Shadows

Over her shoulder, moonlight sliced through the window.

Ash stilled and then straightened. Her lower lip stuck out. Somehow, she was still hot as hell. “Okay. What’s going on, because you are so not on the same page as me.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know. I just feel…” He couldn’t put it into words, because he wasn’t sure how he felt. He shook his head. “It’s nothing with you. I swear.”

She looked like she was going to argue, but remarkably decided not to. “Okay. Well, maybe…maybe tomorrow we can pick this back up?”

“Yeah, of course.” He cupped her cheeks gently and kissed her. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

Ash gathered her stuff up and left. He lay back on his bed, suddenly exhausted. Before he knew it, he opened his eyes and it was morning. Holy hell, he’d never just conked out like that.

Pushing himself up, he scrubbed at his eyes and yawned.

The tension in his shoulders and neck was still there. Great.

On his way downstairs he passed Dawson’s bedroom. The door was cracked open. From the hallway he could smell the roses he’d bought for Bethany.

Maybe he should do something like that for Ash — wait. Daemon pushed open the door. Dawson hadn’t been home. And it was obvious that he’d been pla

“Dee?” He went down the steps, three at a time. She was sitting on the couch, huddled up in a little ball, wrapped in a quilt. “Have you heard from Dawson?”

“No.” She looked dog-tired. “Maybe he stayed over at Bethany’s.”

All night with her parents being there? He doubted that. Going into the kitchen, he made Dee and himself some breakfast. They ate in silence, which was unusual. Dee always had something to talk about.

“You feeling okay?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I feel beat.”

“Same here.” And the weird feeling in his stomach, like a bundle of knots, kept growing and growing. Nothing he did, even ru

Sometime in late morning, right before he was about to go to Bethany’s house and see if his dumbass brother just couldn’t be bothered with letting him know where he was, there was a knock on the door.

It was Officer Vaughn and Officer Lane.

Daemon took a step back without speaking. Something…something awful was creeping up his throat, into his head.

Officer Lane looked terrified. “Sorry to arrive without warning, but we need a few minutes of your time.”

Okay, they were never sorry before. Ever. As if he were moving through water, he turned to his sister. Her pale face was tight. On autopilot, he sunk down beside her.

Vaughn remained by the door, his eyes sharp. It was Lane who sat in the recliner and clasped his hands together. “I need to ask you a few questions about Dawson.”

His mouth went dry. “Why?”

“Was he with a human girl by the name of Elizabeth Williams — also known as Bethany or Liz?”

The knots had turned into acid. Had the DOD found out about Dawson and Bethany? The DOD knew that the Luxen and humans had…relationships, even though it was a little bit on the forbidden side of things — for obvious reasons.

“Why are you asking?” Daemon sat straighter, figuring two officers were about to disappear if they’d discovered Dawson had exposed what they were.

Lane glanced at Vaughn, then took a deep breath. “Was he with her last night?”

“Yes,” Dee answered. “They’re friends. Why are you asking?”

“There…there appears to have been an incident last night in Moorefield.” There was a pause and all sorts of horrible things rushed through Daemon. “We don’t know what happened, but I am sorry, he was gone. Both of them were.”

Daemon opened his mouth to speak but lost his voice. Gone? As in, they weren’t where the DOD thought they were, because he surely couldn’t mean gone as in gone. He started to stand but couldn’t will his legs to work.

His sister drew in a shaky breath. “He’s coming back, right? With Bethany?”

Daemon bit down on his molars. Gone was a term humans loved to use when they couldn’t wrap their tongue around the word dead. As if saying gone somehow lessened the blow.

Vaughn’s expression remained impassive. “Both of them were dead. I’m sorry.”

Daemon couldn’t maintain the useless task of breathing. He locked up, every muscle, every cell. A roaring sound, like a low growl, filled his ears. His vision dimmed.

“No,” Dee said, whipping toward him. Hands flew to her hair, tugging erratically. “No. Dawson’s not dead! We’d know. He’s not dead, Daemon! He’s not!”

Lane stood, visibly awkward, and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

There was a pressure building in his chest. “I want to see my brother.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“Take me to my brother’s body now!” His voice shook the windows and the humans, but he didn’t care. “So help me, if you don’t…”

Vaughn stepped forward. “Your brother’s body and the human’s have been disposed of.”

“Disposed…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. Nausea rose sharply. Disposed of…like nothing more than trash that needed to be taken out. “Get out…”

“Daemon,” Lane said. “We are truly—”

“Get. Out!” he screamed.

The officers couldn’t have left quicker.

The wooden floor quaked beneath his feet, rolling until a keening howl accompanied the movement. The house shook on its foundation. Windows rattled. Pictures slipped from the wall, shattering against the shaking floor. Furniture toppled over and elsewhere in the house, more things fell. He didn’t care. He would destroy everything. He had nothing left without his brother… Dee. Oh, God. Dee.

Daemon started toward his sister, but found his legs just wouldn’t keep going. He stopped, bending at the waist as a wave of pain that felt so real slammed into his gut. Not his brother. He couldn’t really comprehend what just happened. You don’t wake up and everything is normal only to have your entire life destroyed in seconds.

“Please, no,” Dee whispered. “No, no, no.”

He knew he needed to pull it together for his sister, but a cyclone was building inside him. All he could think about was the day in the kitchen. Him hugging Dawson — that couldn’t have been the last time he would hug him. No — no way.

Daemon racked his brain. When was the last time he’d seen Dawson? Yesterday? He was eating a bowl of cereal. Froot Loops. Laughing. Happy.

Last time took on a whole new meaning.

Lifting his gaze, he saw Dee was blurred. Either she was losing hold on herself or he was. Had he ever cried before? He couldn’t remember.

She seemed to wobble, and he shot toward her, catching her before she fell, but then they both hit the floor, holding each other. Daemon turned his head to the ceiling, letting out an unearthly roar that surely broke the sound barrier, shaking the house again. Windows rattled and then blew out this time. The tinkling sound of glass falling cut through the wake like distant applause.

And then there were Dee’s sobs. Heart-rending sobs racked her slender body and shook him. The sound broke his heart. She kept flipping in and out of her natural form, falling apart in his arms.

Dawson wasn’t coming back. His brother wasn’t going to walk through that door ever again. There’d be no more Ghost Investigator marathons. No more teasing fights with Dee over who ate the last of the ice cream. And there weren’t going to be any more arguments over the human girl.

The human girl…

Dawson had lit her up like a beacon — that had led the Arum straight to Dawson. That was the only explanation. The Rocks still protected them in Moorefield. The Arum had to have seen Bethany…

Never in his life had he hated humans more than he hated them right then.

Sorrow and rage rippled through him as his light burned reddish-white. Dee’s tears poured through the bond, her whispered denials kept coming, and God, he would’ve given his own life at that moment to take away her pain and loss.