Page 24 of Origins
“You said that you weren’t going to analyze me!” I gasped, indigent.
“I’m not analyzing you,” he responded with a smug look. “I was stating a fact. You appear to be passive and quiet, yet come up with such eccentric conclusions. So it’s easy to see that you have a vivid imagination. Plus, you basically brought up vampires. It wasn’t a leap for me to figure out what you were thinking.”
He tilted his head as I pouted, and the light from the fireplace reflected back from his intense gaze. “You don’t need to answer, but I can’t figure out howyouare friends with Finn.”
I pursed my lips—this was not a good topic.
After a moment of silence, he seemed to have gotten the message because he just sighed. “Even so. I’d like the chance to be your friend, too. You seem to trust Finn, so do you think you could trust me?”
My breath caught. He knew some of my weirdness, and he still offered. In fact, he knew more about me than I did at this point. And after everything that happened yesterday, he didn’t judge me. Instead, he wanted to be myfriend.
“Why would you want to be my friend?” I couldn’t even look at him as my voice broke pathetically at the question. I didn’t understand the offer, even though I wanted it so much. And although I wasn’t sure how I’d keep his friendship from Finn, I desperately needed it.
But I should decline. There was no way that this would end well. However, when I opened my mouth to speak, I heard myself saying, “That would be wonderful,” instead.
Chapter Eight
Sound
“Excellent, then it’s done,” Damen replied happily. He sat back in his seat, a confident air about him. “That being the case, we’ll get started right away. Is tonight good? Yes. We’ll all come over to Professor Hamway’s house with you. I’ll even have Julian pick up some Chinese food.”
I wasn’t even sure what to say.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “You don’t like Chinese? That’s a shame. I was excited for moo goo gai pan. Well, pizza is fine too, I suppose.”
What in the world was he talking about? I blinked at him, stunned. “But—”
“We’re friends now. You don’t want to be?” Damen interrupted—looking genuinely worried that I’d change my mind.
No, Ididwant to be friends, but… I only nodded numbly in response.
He flashed me a triumphant grin. “Well, friends don’t let friends get haunted by vengeful spirits. We have a ghost to hunt.”
My finger was in the air in protest, even though I had no idea why. I didn’t even know what I could say. I had wanted help, and planned on asking…one day. But this—it almost felt as though I had been outmaneuvered in some way.
“So, baby girl,” Damen sounded smug, all of his attention focused on me.
I squirmed under the attention. What did he want? Plus, he was still using that nickname. If I was going to be his friend, I didn’t think it was appropriate for him to be calling me ‘baby girl’.
“What kind of sensitiveareyou?” he asked. His tone was flirty, but his grey eyes turned serious.
Again, his bluntness stumped me. He was just moving right along, wasn’t he?
But I wasn’t sure how to answer, because I really didn’t know much of anything about my sensitive nature…
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I didn’t even know there was a term for it before. I thought that I was just cursed…”
I was so embarrassed.
“Well, you aren’t cursed.” Damen seemed to be thinking. “There’s nothing wrong with not knowing either. There’s a lot of misinformation out there. And even if you did know, it’s easy to become confused. Tell me about your experiences, and we’ll see what we can figure out.”
I wasn’t sure how this was relevant to the haunting—but whatever. He seemed to know what he was doing.
“I mostly get a feeling…” I paused, trying to decide how to describe this in a relatable way. “As if you are in a pool of murky water, and something brushes up close to you. It’s that feeling you get when you know you’re not alone.”
Damen hummed, writing in his notepad, and glanced up. “That’s a good analogy, actually. Most sensitives can only say that they justknow. Can you see the spirits? If so, do you have to do anything in order to communicate with them?”
“Not all the time.” I pulled at my hem as I recalled past instances. “Not like I used to…”
