Jennifer Armentrout: Shadows

Dawson’s eyes narrowed into a shrewd stare. “Does this have more to do with you and Adam than Daemon and Ash?”

Her lips puckered. “Not at all.”

“Uh huh.” Sympathy for his sister and brother unfurled, and he started pacing. The Elders didn’t control who they were mated with, but they made suggestions, which were more like expectations. Their race was thinning out and needed repopulating. He got that. Didn’t mean he had to agree with it.

But for right now, Dawson had lucked out. There weren’t any other females in his age group here, but one day he knew another Luxen female would be brought in. Or he would be forced to go to her.

And leave his family behind.

He ran his hands through his hair, already knowing he was probably going to be an outcast one day. He’d deny the Elders’ wishes, plain and simple. Just like he knew Daemon would eventually, because he would never end up with a Luxen like Ash.

But Dee? He glanced at her, feeling anger stir. Dee would be with Adam, whether she loved him or not, and that killed him. His sister deserved better.

All of them deserved better.

…

Dawson had barely slept, but he was up and jonesing to get to school, even though the March sun had broken through the heavy clouds, already melting the remnants of snow. It would be a great morning to cut class and go out on one of the many trails, but not today…

On his third bowl of Count Chocula, he leaned against the counter and dug in. “Good morning, bro,” he said, watching Daemon shuffle into the kitchen.

Daemon grumbled something as he ambled toward the pantry. Grabbing a Pop-Tart, he unwrapped and devoured the pastry without toasting it. His gaze flicked up, meeting Dawson’s. “What?”

“Nothing,” Dawson said, swallowing another mouthful. “Gonna be an awesome day.”

Eyes narrowing, his brother asked pointedly, “Why are you so chirpy this morning?”

“I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to be chirpy.”

Dee zipped into the kitchen, her light fading out and revealing a cascade of dark, wavy hair falling over her slender shoulders. She grabbed the jug of milk and went for the Froot Loops. All of them were eating the breakfast of champions.

“Good morning!” She whipped a bowl out of the cupboard.

Daemon arched a brow. “That’s chirpy.”

“And I sound nothing like that,” Dawson replied. “Just saying.”

A frown creased Dee’s brow. “What am I missing?”

“Your brother is all excitable this morning,” Daemon said. “For school. There’s something inherently wrong with that.”

Dawson smirked. “There’s something inherently wrong with the fact that Dee and I have to stand here and talk to you while you’re in your boxers.”

“True that,” Dee murmured, making a gagging motion with her finger.

“Whatever.” Daemon stretched, flashing a lazy grin. “Don’t be jealous I’m the better-looking brother.”

Rolling his eyes, Dawson didn’t even bother pointing out the fact that there wasn’t a single thing different about them. Well, other than the fact that Dawson had a way better attitude. Instead of dumping the bowl and spoon like he normally did, he washed and dried them, setting them aside. Pivoting around, he darted his eyes back and forth between his siblings.

They stared openmouthed at him.

“What?” he demanded.

“Did you just…clean a dish?” Dee backed away slowly, blinking. She glanced at Daemon. “The world is going to end. And I’m still a vir—”

“No!” both the brothers yelled in unison.

Daemon looked like he was actually going to vomit. “Jesus, don’t ever finish that statement. Actually, don’t ever change that . Thank you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You expect me to never have—”

“This isn’t a conversation I want to start my morning with.” Dawson grabbed his book bag off the kitchen table. “I’m so leaving for school before this gets more detailed.”

“And why aren’t you dressed yet?” Dee demanded, her full attention concentrated on Daemon. “You’re going to be late.”

“I’m always late.”

“Punctuality makes perfect.”

Daemon’s sigh traveled through the whole downstairs. “It’s practice makes perfect, sis.”

“Same thing.”

There was a pause. “You’re right. Totally the same thing.”

As Dawson reached the front door, he heard Dee say, “You know you’re my favorite brother, right?”

Dawson smiled.

A deep chuckle came from the kitchen, and then, “I heard you telling Dawson that two days ago. I guess that means today you want to ride with me.”

“Maybe.” She drew out the word.

Closing the door behind him, Dawson stepped outside and headed toward his car. It didn’t take long for Dawson to get to school. Quicker if he lost his human skin but also hard to explain. Since he was early, he listened to music in his Jetta. Then he filed into school, tapped his foot through homeroom, all but bum-rushed the English room, and took his seat, avoiding Kimmy’s all-too-happy smiles.

Twenty seconds in, Dawson realized he wasn’t breathing. Like, not breathing at all. Luxen didn’t need oxygen, but they went through the mechanics to keep up appearances. Looking around frantically, he was relieved to see that no one seemed to notice.

Jesus. He could see the headlines now. Aliens Among Us. Run!

But when Bethany came into class, her dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail, showing off her graceful neck, he may have stopped breathing again. A thousand charming words strung together in his head in a nanosecond, but he averted his eyes to his empty notebook. Notes? Who really took notes in class? Dawson wanted to see if she would talk to him first.

God, he was like a teenage girl. He was so screwed.

Bethany slid around in her chair, pulling one leg up against her chest. She twirled a pen in her right hand. “Hey, Dawson.”

She. Spoke. To. Him. First. It was like winning the lottery, getting laid, and climbing the highest cliff all rolled into one. But he needed to play it cool, because he was trending into lame-o land at a quick pace.

Lifting his chin, he smiled. “You decided to come back for day two. Brave girl.”

“I’m adventurous. What can I say?”

How adventurous? “After I saw the way you handled the paddle yesterday in gym, I can imagine.”

Her cheeks flushed, and it made her all the more pretty. “I’m like a professional ping-pong player. I got skills.”

Without realizing it, he was leaning forward. Only a few inches separated their faces. God, how he loved the fact she didn’t pull away or act coy. She stared back, meeting him head-on.

Words came right out of his mouth. “What are you doing this weekend?”

The pen she held in her hand stopped moving. She blinked, as if surprised, and then her lashes swept back up. “Dad’s been working all week, so we barely see him, and we have family time on Saturday with Uncle Will—” She cut herself off. “But I’m free on Sunday.”

Sunday seemed way too far away, but he’d take it. “Would you like to get lunch?”

Her rosy lips formed an O and then slipped into a grin. “Are you asking me out, Dawson?”

Before he could answer, Daemon strolled down the aisle, his acute gaze drifting over Bethany’s upturned face. He gave her a slight, tight-lipped smile. The smile he typically gave people before he ate them alive.

Bethany smiled back.

Dawson wanted to pummel his brother into the ground. The territorial reaction caused a gut check with reality that didn’t go unnoticed by Daemon. His eyes narrowed. Using the path of communication their kind favored, he sent his brother a little message. Knock it off, brother.