CHAPTER 21DAUGHTER OF EVE
DAMON
I shaded straight to Westley’s bedroom in the hope of catching him alone. I had no idea what I was going to say to him. My hands were shaking.
Jonathan in the hospital bed, “A little white kitten, hissing at you and Naomi—”
Jewel on Westley’s bed, sitting too close, fingers interlaced, “—still your little kitten?”
Maybe it didn’t mean anything at all, maybe it was just a chance remark, a meaningless dream.
Maybe tomorrow it would rain gumdrops…
Westley wasn’t in his bedroom. Jewel was, sprawled across his bed with lazy possessiveness.
“If you’re looking for Westley, he’s not here,” she said petulantly.
I propped myself against the windowsill, arms crossed, and looked at her.
She raised an eyebrow and sat up, brushing white-gold curls out of her eye
