CHAPTER 2
At three in the morning, Damian decided to pull into an abandon area near Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri. Zeke had gotten drunk, thrown up on the side of the highway, and passed out in the backseat, while Aidyn had finally stopped his . . . tweaking. He parked close to the edge of the lake and got out the car to survey the land. Light from the crescent slice in the sky glittered across the calm water, as the trees around him rustled in the breeze. He glided his hand over the hood of the car, begging it to last one more day until he got home. He put a cigarette in his mouth, lit it, and cracked his neck as he sat down on the hood of his car. Letting his head fall back, he savored the silence, something he’d been lacking for the past 72 hours. If only he could move without his brothers following right behind him. His brothers tailed him everywhere, one step behind him at all times, never shutting up. It was like they were babysitting him to make sure he didn't do anything too terrible. What he did was his matter and nobody else's, so they both needed to stay the hell out of his way. To him, his brothers were assholes, especially Zeke. Zeke got on his nerves like humans did. That was probably the reason he sometimes wanted to kill him. Not to mention, his brother actually cared for those dumb humans too. And every time Damian would kill one, Zeke would pout like a little kid. Jackass. What demon in their right mind would like humans? He cut his eyes at just the thought of it. A disgusting nuisance to the world—that was what they were. One that should be obliterated and Zeke needed to be murdered right along with them. He might be his brother, but he hated him for a lot more reasons than he could count. As for Aidyn, the son of a bitch was probably the only person he talked to on a regular basis. Aidyn was the same height as Zeke, but he was far more different than him. Like Damian, he hated humans. He thought of them as food and the girls as good fucks. The car door popped open, and his moment of peace and quiet slipped away at the snap of a finger. "I like Missouri. We should think about moving here," Aidyn said, stepping onto the knee-high grass and running a hand through his hair. “I, uh, I don’t think Zeke’s over what happened.” Damian nodded. Every time Aidyn talked about anything serious to Damian, he seemed strangely nervous. Damian might have been back to back with Aidyn for the past four thousand years, but he knew his brother found him to be unpredictable. And Damian didn’t blame him—he knew himself to be a stray grenade, waiting for the slightest movement to make him explode. "He's been talking about killing himself and shit. I don't understand how he can be this tore up over the broad." "It's his fault for getting involved with her." Damian paused, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Nice to eat but never keep as pets." Damn straight, never get attached. He couldn't fathom how anybody could get used to one, become attached to it and keep it. Only a dumbass would do that. "And I thought I hated humans." Aidyn cracked his neck as he stood a couple feet away. "He would have probably slit his own throat for that blonde." "Probably will." "I couldn't imagine doing that for anyone, especially a human. Zeke must have inherited our father's curse for falling in love." Aidyn chuckled as he walked towards his brother. "Pathetic," Damian muttered. "I guess I'll have to buy him another one to play house with." His hate for humans and everyone else in the world came naturally. Their ignorant outlook on the unknown irritated him, and he'd be damned if he sympathized for any of them. Having said that—he'd still bang a hot blonde chick with big tits and long legs every now and then. It was kind of a given, and Aidyn agreed with him on that logic. The man's eyes were a cold, vibrant blue . . . and that was all Jade could remember. She stared at the drawing in her lap, confused. She couldn’t tell if she drew them from memory or if they just randomly popped into her head, but she drew them constantly. She must’ve had 70 sketches of them. Sighing, she sat the sketchbook and pencil on her nightstand and threw the covers off her legs. With a stretch, she stood and yawned. The curtains around the large window were drawn open, letting the morning light into her room. In her bathroom, she wet her face and stared at her reflection. She’d drawn the same eyes every night. And just when she thought she knew where she’d seen them from, her brain would draw a blank. "Who are you?" she murmured to herself, still dumbfounded by his face. One day she hoped she could draw the whole face, and then she could possibly feel complete for once. She didn't think it was just someone random, or one she'd made up in her head. No, no, her imagination wasn't that creative, to be able to sum up a pair of eyes so damn detailed that she swore it was from memory. Grabbing a plush white towel off the rack she went back into her room and turned the knobs of the tub. She turned the played the music on her computer and stripped her clothes off, cutting the water off as the tub filled to the brink. Sliding in, she laid her head back against the soft bath pillow that Kara had given her. Her eyes focused on the high ceiling above. Every time she drew them, she'd get these weird tingly sensations in her tummy and the fluttery notion of that love thing in her mind. What was up with that? She didn't like it, made her feel like a moron . . . because they were only a pair of eyes. A soft knock rapped on her door and it slowly opened. "I can't sleep." Erica appeared in just a long white t-shirt, shutting the door behind her. "Me neither." Erica plopped her butt down on top of the bed, crossing her feet at the ankles. Her sister cast a glance toward the sketchbook on the nightstand. “You wake up drawing those eyes again?” “Yep.”
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