Jennifer Armentrout: Shadows

A brittle smile appeared. “It’s working like it should. I’m not terminal.”

Being a doctor and getting sick must suck. You’d know all the statistics, the treatments, the side effects, and prognoses inside and out. No escaping the truth behind the disease or cushioning what was to come.

And Bethany hated being around it. Did that make her a terrible person? Uncle Will was family. But death had never really touched her life. Neither had sickness outside of a cold or flu.

Uncle Will was staying with them while he went through his treatments. Once he was feeling better, he’d move back into his own house, but they’d still stay here. The close call with death had her mom yearning to make what was left of her family close-knit.

Mom buzzed around Uncle Will some more, making him a cup of hot tea while he asked about school. Bethany excused herself as soon as she could. Giving Phillip one last tickle, she bolted from the kitchen and headed upstairs.

The top floor had once been nothing but a loft. Now it had three bedrooms and two baths. She went down the narrow hall and nudged open her bedroom door.

It was a sad bedroom.

No posters. No real personal effects except the canvas and a small table full of paints by the large picture window in the corner. A desk was beside it, holding a laptop she rarely used. Internet was spotty at best here, and she’d rather be spending her time painting than lurking on the net. A TV sat on the dresser. Another thing she rarely messed with.

The fact that she wasn’t big on TV shows or movies usually made it hard for her to connect with other people her age. She couldn’t tell anyone who the hottest new singer was or the name of the teen heartthrob sweating up the silver screen.

Bethany didn’t really care.

Head in the clouds was what her mom always said.

Rolling her stool toward the easel, she tugged her hair up into a messy bun and sat down. An empty mind was always best to start with when she wanted to paint. Let whatever came to her flow to the paper. Except it wasn’t happening today. When she closed her eyes, she kept seeing one thing. Well, one person .

Dawson.

Bethany wasn’t boy crazy. Sure, she had her moments of wanting to skip around like a demented puppet when a cute guy showed interest, but guys didn’t really affect her. Not to the point that a name brought a flush to her cheeks. Even Daniel — ex-boyfriend extraordinaire — hadn’t made her feel this way, and they’d almost gone all the way.

Sorry, Mom .

But there was something about Dawson. More than just how good he looked. When he talked to her in art class, he seemed…in awe of her. Had to be her imagination, just like her reaction to him, because she didn’t know him and an attraction of that magnitude just didn’t happen. Not at first sight, and not in real life. Stress — it had to be stress.

Picking up a sharpened pencil, she shook out her shoulders. She wasn’t going to let herself get obsessed with a boy.

Without giving much thought to what she was doing, she stared at a blank piece of canvas, and then started to sketch the outline of a face. A face she would eventually fill in later. Glancing at the table of paints, she frowned, knowing there was no way she’d get that hue of green right.

Yep, not obsessed at all.

He was obsessed.

Dawson stared up at his bedroom ceiling, flipping in and out of his true form like someone was throwing a switch. The room was dark…and then whitish-blue light bounced off the walls. On. Off. On. Off. Unable to keep form was a sure sign of agitation or a severe distraction.

And his distraction had a name.

Bethany Williams.

In his human form, he rubbed the heels of his palms down his face and groaned. There was no reason why he’d spent the last three hours thinking about her. Ha. Three hours? Try the last ten hours.

A blur shot through the room, and before Dawson could lower his hands, Dee flopped down on the bed beside him, her eyes wide.

Dee was probably the only real love of his and Daemon’s lives. Both of them would rain down hell on anyone who messed with their sister. She was their treasure. At home , the females of their race had been cherished. Something the human males didn’t seem to do.

Full of energy and a natural love of just being around others, Dee was like a cyclone that blew through people’s lives. She was also his best friend. They had a bond, one that ran deeper than what they shared with Daemon. Dawson never knew why it was like that. There was this wall around his brother that even they couldn’t really break through. Growing up, it had always been Dee and Dawson.

Dee’s hand fluttered around her as she spoke. “I was outside, and it looked as if a light show was going on in your bedroom. Daemon said you were probably mas—”

And Dee also knew no boundaries.

“Ah, no, please don’t finish that sentence.” He lowered his hands, eyes narrowing at his sister. “Don’t ever finish that sentence.”

She rolled her eyes as she tucked her legs under her. “So, what were you doing?”

“I was thinking.”

Her delicate brows arched. “Thinking caused the light show? Wow. That’s kind of sad, Dawson.”

He grinned. “I know, right?”

She nudged his leg. “Yeah, and you’re not telling me the truth.”

“And yeah, it’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Her evergreen eyes rolled. “When did you become Dad? It’s bad enough that Daemon is all parental on us. Not you, too.”

Daemon was parental. He was only a few minutes older than them, but he made sure those few minutes counted.

And the last thing Dawson wanted to do was talk about Bethany with Dee. Talking about Bethany with any of them would be an unnecessary complication at this point. Luxen weren’t forbidden to date humans per say, but the DOD wasn’t down for it and what was the point? Hooking up was one thing, but a relationship? It wasn’t like Dawson could be upfront with what he was. If he did, the DOD would make sure the human disappeared, and who wanted that on his conscience? Then there was the big question. How could you be in a serious relationship with someone and hide who you were?

Not to mention the fact that no one knew if humans and Luxen could even…mate. Offspring were unheard of.

“Why were you outside?” he asked instead.

Her shoulders deflated immediately. “Ash was here.”

Oh, no.

“So, she and Daemon aren’t seeing each other. Again.” Their relationship was like a soap opera for sixteen-year-olds. Granted, the Luxen matured a lot faster than humans, but Dawson couldn’t figure the two out. “And she was outside, yelling at him. Can’t believe you didn’t hear.”

That’s because he was so wrapped up in thinking about Bethany. “Why was she yelling?”

“I don’t know. Daemon probably was looking at another girl or something.” She sighed. “Or he didn’t want to hang out. You never know with her. I sometimes wish they’d break up and stay apart.”

“You just don’t like Ash.”

“It’s not that I dislike her.” Dee pushed off the bed and shot across the room, appearing beside his window. “I just think she’s a bitch.”

Dawson choked on his laugh. “Yeah, you don’t dislike her at all.”

She spun around, hands planted on her hips. “She’s not right for Daemon. And he’s not right for her.”

Sitting up, Dawson swung his legs off the bed and stood. Close to midnight and he felt like he could go for a run. It was going to be a long night. “Who is right for Daemon?”

“Someone who’s not needy, for starters,” she said, skipping over to the bed. “And someone who really cares about him. You know Ash chases after him because it’s expected. Not because she really loves him.”