“Daemon—”
“You don’t have a choice. Right now, you’re a huge risk. You are a danger to my sister. I will not let anything happen to her.”
Anger flushed her face. “And then after the trace fades? Then what?”
“I prefer that you’d stay the hell away from all of us, but I doubt that’s going to happen. And my sister does care for you.” I let go of her elbow and leaned back, beyond frustrated. “As long as you don’t end up with another trace, then I don’t have a problem with you being friends with her.”
Her hands balled into fists. “I’m so grateful to have your approval.”
I forced a smile. How much more clearly did I need to put it out there for her? She was in danger and she was a risk. This…this wasn’t personal. “I’ve already lost one sibling because of how he felt for a human. I’m not going to lose another.”
“You’re talking about your brother and Bethany,” she stated.
“My brother fell in love with a human…and now they’re both dead.”
Chapter 16
Sometimes Kat was as open as a picture book. Everything she thought and felt plainly visible on her face. I watched as the irritation eased away, replaced by sympathy I wasn’t comfortable seeing.
“What happened?” she asked quietly.
Part of me wanted to ignore the question. To say something ignorant and distract her, but there was another half of me that wanted to…to talk about it, to really talk about it. That part won out. “Dawson met Bethany, and I swear to you, it was like love at first sight. Everything for him became about her. Matthew—Mr. Garrison—warned him. I warned him that it wasn’t going to work. There was no way we can have a relationship with a human.”
I stared over her shoulder, at the tree line. “You don’t know how hard it is, Kat. We have to hide what we are all the time, and even among our own kind, we have to be careful. There are many rules. The DOD and Luxen don’t like the idea of us messing with humans. It’s as if they think we’re animals, beneath them.”
“But you’re not animals,” she said, a bit fiercely. It was kind of cute watching her come to my defense for once, even though I probably didn’t deserve it.
“Do you know any time we apply for something, it’s tracked by the DOD?” I shook my head, disgusted. “Driver’s license, they know. If we apply for college, they see it. Marriage license to a human? Forget it. We even have a registration we have to go through if we want to move.”
“Can they do that?” Shock flooded her voice
I laughed drily. “This is your planet, not ours. You even said it. And they keep us in place by funding our lives. We have random checkins, so we can’t hide or anything. Once they know we’re here, that’s it. And that’s not all. We’re expected to find another Luxen and to stay there.”
Her gaze sharpened. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
“It’s not.” I sat up, draping my arms over my bent knees. “It’s easy to feel human. I know I’m not, but I want the same things that all humans want—” What was I saying to her? I cleared my throat as my jaw worked. “Anyway, something happened between Dawson and Bethany. I don’t know what. He never said. They went out hiking one Saturday and he came back late, his clothing torn and covered with blood. They were closer than ever. If Matt and the Thompsons didn’t have their suspicions before, they did then. That following weekend, Dawson and Bethany went out to the movies. They never came back.”
Kat closed her eyes.
“The DOD found him the next day in Moorefield, his body dumped in a field like garbage. I didn’t get to say good-bye. They took his body before I could even see him, because of the risk of exposure. When we die or get hurt, we resort back to our true form.”
Her voice was soft when she spoke. “Are you sure he’s…dead then, if you’ve never seen his body?”
“I know an Arum got him. Drained him of his abilities and killed him. If he were still alive, he would’ve found a way to contact us. Both his and Bethany’s bodies were taken away before anyone could see. Her parents will never know what happened to her. And all we know is that he had to have done something that left a trace on her, enabling the Arum to find him. That’s the only way. They can’t sense us here. He had to have done something major.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know there’s nothing I can say. I’m just so sorry.”
Lifting my chin, I gazed up at the sky. The weight of losing Dawson was like a hundred-pound ball of lead settling in my stomach. It hurt. Still hurt like it was yesterday. Still woke up some nights and found myself in his bedroom, wishing I could just see him one more time.
“I…I miss the idiot,” I said raggedly.