Enamored | ✓

4. Dread

"When I woke up I was 17, you kissed my lips in a bad bad dream. Showed me things aren't what they appear to be. Called me angel and set me free." – Melissa Etheridge

I woke up exhilarated between the silky sheets of my lumpy bed. I haven't had a good night's sleep for ages. Usually, my old lumpy bed would give me a backache but as I stared at the ivory ceiling, I couldn't help but stretch my legs and smile to greet the new morning. The lacy amber curtains on my window were opened letting the sun warm my cheeks and brighten my cramped room. Everything was perfect except for the bizarre dream I had last night about meeting a handsome devil and his declaration that my soul belonged to him. My hand unconsciously touched where the supposed mark from my dream was situated.

I froze when I raised my left forearm for viewing. The black ink of his mark glared at me with its alluring patterns of roses and snakes. The design appeared to be done by a talented artist. I knew better. My heart sped up and I started to hyperventilate as the gravity of my situation weighed on me.

Daemon was real.

What he told me last night was real.

And the dark mark on my skin confirmed my worst fears.

A tentative knock caused my body to tense and I quickly hid the tattoo from the intruder by wrapping my left arm with the blankets. My Mom flashed me a smile and set a tray on my bed. The delicious aroma of bacon, eggs, buttery French toast and coffee wafted in my bedroom.

"You made breakfast." I beamed.

"Of course, I missed making you breakfast." She kissed me on the forehead.

The aching feeling in my heart throbbed. I missed her so much. My mother and I had a very close relationship until she and my father began working graveyard shifts as nurses in the hospital to save enough money for my college tuition. Many people claimed I look like her, but I knew they were wrong. Her silky brown hair and emerald eyes was no match for my tousled waist length chestnut hair and simple brown eyes. I thought I looked more like my father.

"Where's Dad?" I asked her.

"He's sleeping. We had a rough night with ten people in a major car accident and burned victims last night in the emergency room." She replied tiredly.

I nodded in understanding. We chatted the whole time of the things we've missed from each other. I caught her up to date with my friends' drama. Angelo is still the golden boy out of all of us, Brittany can be a bitch, but she has a good heart, Ted is still secretly in love with Summer, and Daniel might be on some weed. She listened patiently while I chattered nonstop about work and drama before winter break began. I told her everything except the past few days that occurred with Daemon.

My mother knew I haven't told her everything.

"Was there anything else that happened?" she asked me.

Daemon happened, I thought.

Instead I replied with, "Nope, that's about it."

Guilt slowly ate its way into my stomach. I didn't like lying to my mother. I used to tell her everything. However, I knew she didn't deserve to know about Daemon because it would add to her worries. I ate my breakfast using my right hand using the blanket to cover the mark from her wandering gaze.

My mother tilted her head to the side, her suspicion radiating from her. I smiled at her and complimented on her cooking causing her suspicion to dissipate.

I gazed at the clock behind me and immediately jolted out of bed. I have an hour before my shift starts at Bel Cibo, an Italian restaurant in downtown Los Angeles.