Jennifer Armentrout - Shadows

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.

And to change some of the last things he’d said to his brother. You’re going to get that girl killed. Why hadn’t he said he loved him? No. Instead he’d said that . Misery cleaved his soul, sinking in deep like a hot, serrated knife.

His head fell to his sister’s shoulder, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Tears still seeped through, scalding hot against his now-glowing cheeks. Light flickered all around the living room, casting strange shadows of the two forms huddled on the floor together.

Dawson was dead because of him — because he hadn’t warned his brother enough, hadn’t stopped the relationship before it got out of hand. He was dead because of a human girl. And it was Daemon’s fault. He hadn’t done enough to stop him.

He held his sister tighter — the last of his family — and swore never again. Never again would he let a human put his family in harm’s way. Never again.

Daemon wouldn’t lose his sister, no matter what he had to do to keep her safe.

First off, I want to thank the wonderful team at Entangled Teen. Special thanks to Liz Pelletier and her mad editing skills. Thank you to Kevan Lyon for always being a fantastic agent. A huge thanks to my crit/beta partners: Lesa, Julie, Carissa, and Cindy. You guys are the fantastic four of awesomeness. I couldn’t do any of this without my family and friends for being supportive.

Also, a big thanks to Pepe and Sztella for being insanely hot and making the cover art for the series rock.

Jennifer L. Armentrout lives in West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. Well, mostly. When she’s not hard at work writing, she spends her time reading, working out, watching zombie movies, and pretending to write. She shares her home with her husband, his K-9 partner named Diesel, and her hyper Jack Russell Loki. Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent her time writing short stories… therefore explaining her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes Adult and Young Adult Urban Fantasy and Romance.