Brother.
Pulling back, the Arum tried to take his human form. Vulnerable as he was in his true form, he wouldn’t stand a chance with him. None of the Arum did.
Dawson was betting that Arum even knew the name to the light, had whispered it in fear. A dry, rasping laugh caught in Dawson’s throat. His brother would love that.
White light crashed into the shadowy form, throwing the Arum back several feet. Trees shook and the ground rolled, tossing him to and fro like he was nothing more than a pile of limp socks. And the light took up a fighter stance before him, protective and ready to give his life for his family.
A series of bolts of intense light shot over Dawson, smacking into the Arum. A keening, high-pitched wail pierced the sky. A dying sound. God, did he hate that sound. And probably should’ve waited to hear it before he’d approached the Arum earlier. Water under the bridge.
Since the draining had been cut off, feeling was returning to his limbs. Pins and needles spread up his legs, over his chest. Sitting up, he still flickered in and out. From the corner of his eye, he saw his brother back the Arum up and then take human form. Bold. Brazen. He’d kill the Arum by hand. Show off.
And he did. Pulling out a knife made of obsidian, he launched himself at the Arum, said something in a menacing tone before shoving the blade deep into his stomach. A gurgle cut off another wail.
As the Arum splintered into smoky, shadowy pieces, Dawson concentrated on who he was—what he was. Closing lids that weren’t really there in his true form, he pictured his human body. The form he came to favor over his Luxen one and connected to in a way that should’ve brought forth a wealth of shame but never really did.
“Dawson?” his brother called out, then spun around and rushed to his side. “Are you okay, man?”
“Freaking peachy.”
“Christ. Don’t ever scare me like that again. I thought—” Daemon cut off, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I mean it. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
Dawson climbed to his feet without help, standing on shaky legs and swaying a little to the left. He looked into eyes that were identical to his own. No more words needed to be spoken. No thanks necessary.
Not when there were still more out there.
Chapter 1
Students filed into class, yawning and still trying to rub the sleep out of their eyes. Melted snow dripped off their parkas and pooled on the scuffed floor. Dawson stretched out his long legs, propping them on the empty seat in front of him. Idly scratching his jaw, he watched the front of the room as Lesa strolled in, making a face at Kimmy, who looked horrified by what the snow had done to her hair.
“It’s just snow,” Lesa said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not going to hurt you.”
Kimmy smoothed her hands over her blond hair. “Sugar melts.”
“Yeah, and shit floats.” Lesa took her seat, yanking out last night’s English homework.
A deep, low chuckle came from behind, and Dawson grinned. The girl cracked him up.
Kimmy flipped her off as she flounced to her seat, her eyes trained on him like she was planning her next meal. Dawson gave her a tight smile back, though he knew he should’ve just ignored her. To Kimmy, any attention appeared to be good attention, especially since she had broken up with Simon.
Or had Simon broken up with her?
Hell if he knew or really cared, but he didn’t have it in him to completely ignore her. Placing a zebra-print bag on her desk, Kimmy continued to smile at him for another good ten seconds before looking away.
He shook out his shoulders, positive he’d just been visually molested—and so not in a good way.
The laugh came again, and then in a voice low enough only for him to hear, “Playa. Playa…”
Stretching his arms back, he smacked at his brother’s face as he grinned. “Shut up, Daemon.”
His brother knocked his hands out of his face. “Don’t hate the game…”
Dawson shook his head, still half smiling. A lot of people, mostly humans, didn’t get Daemon like he and his sister did. Very few made him laugh like Daemon did. And even fewer pissed him off as much. But if Dawson ever needed anything or if there was an Arum nearby, Daemon was the man.
Or Luxen. Whatever.
A portly older man strolled into class, clutching a stack of papers that signaled their quizzes had been graded. A chorus of groans traveled through the room, with the exception of Daemon and him. They knew they totally aced it without even trying.
Dawson picked up his pen, rolling it between long fingers and sighing. Tuesday was already shaping up to be another long day of boring classes. He’d rather be outside, hiking in the woods despite the snow and brutal cold. His aversion to school wasn’t as bad as Daemon’s, though. Some days were worse than others, but Dawson found his classmates made the experience more tolerable. He was like his sister in that way, a people person hidden in an alien body.
He smirked.
Seconds before the bell rang, a girl hurried into class, clutching a yellow slip of paper in her hand. Immediately, he knew the chick wasn’t from around here. The fact she was in a sweater and not a heavy jacket when it was below thirty outside sort of gave it away. His gaze roamed down her legs—really nice, long, and curvy—to her thin flats.
Yep, she wasn’t from around here.
Handing over the paper to the teacher, she lifted her slightly sharp chin and gazed across the room.
Dawson’s feet hit the floor with an audible thump.
Holy crap, she was…she was beautiful.
And he knew beautiful. Their race had won the genetic roulette when they adopted human forms, but the way this girl’s elfin features were pieced together was absolute perfection. Chocolate-colored hair slid over her shoulders as she kept scanning the room. Her skin held a healthy glow from being out in the sun a lot—recently, too, from the vibrancy of it. Finely groomed eyebrows set off tilted eyes framed with heavy lashes. Warm brown eyes connected with his, then his shoulder, and then she blinked several times as if trying to clear her vision.