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The Arum struggled wildly under him, but Dawson clamped a hand around the SOB’s throat and pinned him there. Without saying a word, he plunged the blade deep into the Arum’s center.

There was a flash of golden light and then the Arum broke into pieces that hovered in the air for a few seconds, like an irregularly shaped puzzle. And then they simply fizzled out.

Dawson stood and swayed to the right. Pain arced up his leg. He looked down and noticed it seemed off. As if his left leg was going the wrong way, bent at an odd angle. Broken. Slipping the obsidian into his back pocket, he sighed and changed into his Luxen form so he could heal. It would take a couple of minutes to repair the damage, but at least he wouldn’t feel it now. And anyway, he had more important things to worry about.

He faced Beth.

She was standing under one of the scorched trees, her arms wrapped around her waist. Trembles ran through her body, and he hated that she’d seen this — seen him kill.

Bethany?

Her head cocked to the side and she blinked. Are…are you okay?

Hearing her voice again in his thoughts was a heady, unexplainable feeling. Coming back to her, he knelt and cupped her cheeks. His light enveloped her as he pressed his lips to against hers. Through their bond, he heard her saying his name over and over again. Dawson. Dawson. Dawson.

It’s okay. It’s over.He slipped back into his human form, pulling her against his chest, resting his cheek against hers. Their pounding hearts beat in unison. I’ll never let anything happen to you. I promise. You’re safe with me.

Bethany’s fingers dug into his shirt as she shivered. I know. I love you.

He would never grow tired of hearing those three words, through their bond or spoken out loud.

Dawson?A shudder rolled through her body. A moan was muffled against his neck. I don’t feel…I don’t feel good.

He let go, stepping back. Beth—

She didn’t trip, but it seemed like her legs gave out on her. He reached for her, but she hit the ground, face pale as she pushed up to her knees. Her skin looked damp and clammy.

Fear tripped up his heart as he shot toward her. Was she hurt? The Arum hadn’t reached her, he was sure. “Bethany, what’s wrong?”

A shudder rolled through her body. “Dawson…”

Kneeling beside her, he grasped her shoulders. Her moan sent his heart racing. His eyes darted around quickly. “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I don’t feel good,” she said, her voice weak. And then he heard her as clear as day in his head. I think I’m on fire.

Placing his hands on her cheeks, he found her skin to be hot. Too hot. Her lids were heavy, hiding her eyes. “Bethany, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Something’s wrong—”

A twig snapped nearby. In a flash, four shadows swallowed them, and his stomach pitched. Oh, God, no. There were more Arum.

Gathering her close, he knew he was too drained to fight off four of them. For the first time in his life, he envied his brother’s strength. Bethany was going to die, and it was all his fault. Because he was too weak to protect her.

He held her tighter. I’m sorry, he said through their mind link. And he’d never meant those words more than he did then.

Tensing his shoulders, he gathered his remaining strength. This might be the end, but no way was he going out without a fight. He’d take as many of the bastards with him as he could. He squeezed Bethany one last time and turned to face them.

There was a flash of intense light, blinding even him, and before he could shed his human form, something cool was placed against his neck. Then his world went to hell. It felt like the light was being torn from underneath the skin, muscles pulling, bones snapping. Red-hot, fiery pain exploded, taking…taking everything. Him. Sight. Sound. Everything.

The last thing he felt was Bethany being pulled from his limp arms. A finality of black crashed over him in waves he couldn’t surface from, welcoming him into the nothingness that dug in deep, refusing to ever let him go.

Chapter 19

Daemon rolled his shoulders, unable to shake the sudden tension building in his back and neck. Like he’d slept wrong, but he’d done a whole lot of not sleeping.

“Babe, you’re not paying attention to me at all.”

He glanced over at Ash. She’d ordered summer dresses off the Internet or something and was doing a little peek-a-boo modeling show. And by her current state of dress, he must’ve missed the good stuff.

Extending an arm, he said, “Sorry.”

She swayed her hips over to him. Instead of taking his hand, she climbed onto his lap and started going for it. Her mouth was everywhere — his lips, cheeks, throat, lower. Normally he would’ve been all into this, especially since Ash had been sweet that day. But his mind…it was someplace else.

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 planning on coming back last night. He dug his cell out of his pocket. There were no messages from him.

“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 running, eased them.

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.