Daughter of None

10.

Lex

By the time I reached my apartment, my hands were shaking so badly I nearly inserted the key into the neighbor’s door. Twice. When I finally got it right, I staggered inside and collapsed onto my bed like a Victorian ghost fainting on a chaise, hoping sheer stillness might convince my brain to knock it off.

No such luck.

The images wouldn’t stop. His smile—radiant, devastating—warped into a grimace of pain, again and again, a reel from some twisted internal movie. I bolted upright and made a noble sprint to the bathroom, barely making it before I retched into the toilet.

Once the convulsions subsided, I rested my forehead against the blessedly cool porcelain, whispering a little “thank you” to the inanimate object that was now my best friend. I felt warm—too warm. Fever. Had to be. Just a fever. Nothing a cool bath and some denial couldn’t fix.

I started the tub, making sure the water was lukewarm. Tepid, even. The bath equivalent of a shrug.

I sank into the water with a sigh that bordered on a death rattle and let the quiet take over.

But my mind had other plans.

The vision returned—he was still chained in that massive, ominous chamber. The air glowed red, steam coiling off his skin. His chest heaved, muscles straining. His head snapped up, sweat-slick hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes opened—brilliant, glacial blue. They glowed like fury incarnate.

He roared, pulling against the chains. They groaned. Warped.

Right before they snapped, I heard it again—a whisper, soft and certain.

“Lio.”

I jolted upright in the bath. My heart thudded painfully.

Then I noticed it.

Steam. Lots of it.

The lukewarm bath I’d filled minutes ago? It was now a hot tub. Literally. I dipped a hand beneath the surface and hissed.

I definitely didn’t crank the heat. Unless fever dreams now included secret telekinetic bath powers.

I got out, dried off, and threw on leggings and an oversized tee. Comfort fashion for full-body existential crises. My skin prickled like I had ants marching under it, and everything felt… off.

When I shuffled into the kitchen, Cas was there—cool as ever—unloading grocery bags like he lived here.

"Hey, kitten. Heard you came home sick. Thought I’d bring you a few things until you’re feeling better," he said, not even glancing at me.

"Cas," I said carefully, "I think you should leave. I may be contagious. Or radioactive."

He finally looked up—and blinked. The smirk evaporated. His usual smugness cracked for just a second.

"You look like you lost a fight with a dragon."

"Feels about right," I muttered.

"What’s going on, sport?" he asked, smoothing his expression back into casual concern.

"Just a fever," I lied like a pro.

His jaw tightened, but he nodded. "I’ve got a friend—a nurse. Let me give her a call. You should lie down."

I nodded, too tired to argue. As I stumbled back to my room, I heard him muttering and then loudly cursing when his phone clattered to the ground.

Mr. Unflappable didn’t flap. Something was very wrong.

I peeled back the sheets on my bed and froze. A shattered glass lay in the mess. Because of course it did.

I sighed, knelt on the floor, and started picking up the pieces. Because if the world was falling apart, at least I could clean up one small mess.

Then—sting.

I looked down at my finger, ready to curse again.

But it wasn’t blood that trickled out. It was… gold. Thick, gleaming, molten gold.

"Oh, perfect," I muttered. "Because bleeding normal would be too boring."

Before I could process further, Cas appeared, grabbing my hand with a muttered curse.

"Nope. No need to worry about that, Lex. Let’s just—yep, back to bed with you." He slapped a bandage on my finger with suspicious speed. Where had it come from? The Cas Emergency First Aid Dimension?

He tucked me in like I was some sick toddler, and just as a knock sounded at the door, he practically bolted for it.

From my bed, I heard them talking. Well—hissing.

"You’re slacking," Cas growled.

"Do not forget who you are speaking to," a woman snapped back.

Oh, joy. More people.

Cas re-entered, eyes darting to me like I might’ve exploded in his absence. Behind him strode a tall, unnervingly graceful woman who looked like she belonged in a perfume ad titled Mystical Wrath. Her long, dark hair shimmered as she moved. Her expression said she’d seen too much—and had no time for nonsense.

I blinked up at her.

"Have we met?" I croaked.

"You’d remember if we did," she said, gaze boring into mine.

Her eyes—amber and piercing. Familiar in a way that made my stomach flip.

"I’m Lex," I offered, extending a hand like this was some weird fever tea party. "Welcome to my completely un-haunted home."

"Caly." She shook my hand firmly—and then froze. Her eyes widened. She sucked in a breath and pulled back fast.

"What are you feeling?" she asked sharply.

I glanced between her and Cas, both suddenly Very Serious.

"Just warm. Weird dreams. Nothing a good nap won’t fix."

Caly shot Cas a look and nodded toward the hallway. They left and closed the door—but not well enough.

"Fix it," Cas snapped.

"I... I can’t."

"Excuse me?"

"It’s too strong. I’m dulling it as much as I can."

"This is literally your only job. They’ll sense her."

"Watch your tongue, Shield. I’ve slaughtered for less."

Okay. Definitely not a normal nurse.

Cas stormed back in like a man possessed.

"Let’s go, kitten."

He ripped the covers off me like we were late for brunch.

"Wh-what—"

Pain stabbed through my skull. I groaned, clutching my head. The room tilted.

"Holy gods," Caly whispered.

I slipped in and out of consciousness. The next time I surfaced, they were arguing like an immortal married couple.

"Water," Caly said.

"Can’t be salt."

"A river—"

"Leads to the ocean."

"A lake?"

"Needs to be secluded."

"You didn’t have a plan for this?"

"We weren’t expecting her to manifest! That’s why we had you!"

I blacked out again.

When I opened my eyes, I was in the back of a car, cold air nipping at my skin. Doors slammed. Someone was tapping my cheek.

"Up we get," Caly said matter-of-factly, like this was a group hike and not a magical breakdown.

I groaned and sat up. We were in a forest clearing beside a shimmering lake, the pine trees thick and quiet around us. A small stone house puffed smoke into the air. It was cold enough to see my breath, and yet—I was burning from the inside out.

Without thinking, my body moved. Straight into the water.

Clothes and all.

The ice-cold lake bit into my skin, and I nearly shrieked—but then the ache began to fade. The fire dulled. The chaos dimmed.

I stayed submerged until my thoughts stopped spinning.

One image lingered. The blue eyes. His eyes.

They were the only thing that felt clear.

When I finally emerged from the water, soaked and shaking, I knew it wasn’t over.

But at least now—I was awake.