Shadows

Chapter 9

Dawson didn’t need directions to Beth’s house, but he went through the motions of asking for them anyway. It wasn’t as totally stalkerish as it looked, though. Mainly it was due to the fact that it really wasn’t that hard to find anything around Petersburg. Especially when you knew the layout of the area as well as he did.

Ever since the day outside of the school, when he pulled the Superman-speed crap, he felt like he was walking around on pins and needles. Bethany hadn’t brought it up again, but he knew she was thinking about it. Every so often, he caught her looking at him as if she were trying to really see him. See behind the clothes and the skin, to what really existed underneath.

Part of him liked that. The other part was terrified. If she ever found out…

Easing the Jetta down the narrow road choked with elm trees, he took a deep breath. No doubt she wouldn’t want anything to do with him if she knew that more than 90 percent of his DNA was from out of this solar system.

Was it wrong, lying to her? He wasn’t sure. Honestly, he’d never even asked himself that when he’d messed around with human girls before.

He had no clue what that really said about him.

The old farmhouse came into view, rising up against the gray skies of early April, and he saw three cars parked out front. One was a Porsche, which he knew belonged to her uncle.

Dawson had been surprised when she’d asked him last night if he wanted to come over. From what he’d gathered, her parents would flip if she brought a boy home. But here he was.

He parked the car and climbed out, smoothing his hands over his jeans. Probably should’ve worn something nicer. Not that he met a lot of human parents, since his interactions with human girls didn’t get this far.

Stopping in front of the door, he let out a long breath. Sneaking out so that Dee didn’t question where he was going had been the hard part. Parents would be a piece of cake.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Mom and Dad will be so proud that she brought home an alien.

Before he could knock on the door, it opened, revealing a tall, slender woman who looked waaay too young to be Bethany’s mom. Eyes that matched Bethany’s met his. The woman blinked and looked like she wanted to take a step back.

“You must be Dawson,” she said, placing a hand against her chest.

Dawson smiled. “Yes, ma’am. I’m here to see Bethany.”

Footsteps pounded down the stairs, cutting off Mrs. Williams’s response. Bethany appeared behind her mom, eyes wide. She wiggled around her, grabbing Dawson’s hand. She pulled him inside.

“Mom, meet Dawson. Dawson, meet Mom.”

Her mom arched a brow. “That’s not how you typically introduce people, Bethany.”

“Works for me,” she quipped, tugging him toward the stairs.

A man stepped out from what appeared to be a living room, a remote control in his hand and a confused expression on his face. “Uh…”

“And that’s Dad. Little butt — er, Phillip is taking a nap.” Over her father’s shoulder was a frail, thin wisp of a man. Dawson almost didn’t recognize him from the few times he’d seen the doctor around town. “And that’s my uncle.”

Dawson gave them a wave. “It’s nice to meet—”

“We’re going upstairs.” She started for the steps, shooting him a look that had him grinning.

“Keep the door open,” her mom called from the bottom.

“Mom,” Bethany whined, cheeks flushed. “It’s not like that.”

Dammit. He wanted it to be like that and then some. Her mother repeated the order again, and Bethany pulled him down the hallway.

“I’m so sorry. My mom thinks whenever a boy is in my bedroom that must mean we’re making out or something.” She dropped his hand, opening her door. “It’s so embarrassing.”

Dawson stepped around her, scanning her bedroom. Music played on low from her laptop. There wasn’t much going on, just the basics, with the exception of the easel sitting in front of the window. “Do you have boys in your bedroom a lot?”

She laughed as she skirted around him. “Oh, yeah, all the time. It’s like a train station in here.”

His brows shot up. He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.

Seeing his expression, she laughed again. He loved that sound — loved that she laughed so much. “I’m joking,” she said, sitting down on the bed. She patted the spot next to her. “Actually, you’re the first boy to be in my bedroom.”

A rush of possessiveness hit him hard. Ignoring it, he sat beside her and leaned back, watching her from behind hooded eyes. “Well, you are new still. Unless you work fast, I’d hope I’m the first guy.”

She twisted around, sitting cross-legged. “I bet you’ve been in many, many girls’ bedrooms.”

He shrugged one shoulder.

Her eyes narrowed. “Come on, with someone who looks like you, there’s probably a line of girls hoping to take you home.”

“So?” He reached out, tugging on the hem of her jeans. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you are.” She frowned. “Sometimes I wonder why.”

Dawson stared at her a moment, then laughed. She couldn’t be serious. There was no way she didn’t know how pretty she was or how her laugh drew people to her.

Her frown deepened. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Yes,” he replied. He shot forward, moving faster than he should have, and caught her hand. “You can’t tell me you’re surprised that I’m here. I’ve been your shadow since the first day you arrived.”

Beth’s eyes dropped to where his hand wrapped around hers. After a moment, she settled down. “I know I’m not ugly, but you’re…you’re…”

A grin pulled at his lips. “I’m what?”

Crimson stained her cheeks, and his grin spread into a smile. She pulled her hand free, but he didn’t think she was mad. “You know what you are,” she said, reaching over and picking up a large album. “Anyway, I found this old photo album. You want to look at it?”

He leaned back on his elbows. “We can do whatever you want.”

Her lashes lifted, and he felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach when their eyes met. No. Not that. Like when he shed his human skin and took his real form. That rush of pure electricity and power when his being became light.

That is what he felt when Bethany looked at him.

More than anything, he wanted to know what was going on in that head of hers, what was making her eyes so dark that it was almost difficult to tell the difference between her pupils and irises. Did she feel it? God, he hoped he wasn’t reading her wrong, because if so, this was all about to get really awkward.

But it wasn’t like humans were all that different from Luxen, once you got past the whole alien thing.

She showed him pictures of her family from Nevada, flipping through the album with a soft smile on her face as she made a comment about this relative and that one. But man, did he ever have a hard time paying attention to them.

All he wanted to see was sitting right next to him — on a bed, no less.

He couldn’t stop staring at her — at the finely arched eyebrows, her cheekbones, the way her lips curved, how she tilted her head—

Bethany laughed, lifting her chin. “You’re not even looking at the pictures, Dawson.”

He thought about lying but grinned instead. “Sorry. You’re distracting.”

“Whatever.”

She had no idea that he could literally stare at her all day. It was like he was obsessed. Whipped is what Daemon would say, but his brother didn’t understand. Hell, Dawson wasn’t even sure he understood what he was doing here, with this girl — this beautiful human girl.

This was trouble.

And he really didn’t care.

Over the low hum of music, he could hear her parents talking with the doctor. His eyes flicked to the bedroom door. Willing it closed the rest of the way with a soft click, he turned his attention back to Bethany, but she didn’t appear to notice.

“I’m glad you invited me over,” he said.

She turned slightly and surprise flickered across her face.

His gaze dropped to her parted lips. They were dangerously close to his, which meant he was on the verge of doing something he couldn’t turn back from. “Bethany?”

“Yeah?” she murmured, lashes lowering.

“Nothing…” He leaned in just a fraction and inhaled deeply. Damn. She smelled wonderful. Like vanilla and roses. Every part of him liked that. Reaching up slowly, he placed his palm against her cheek.

Bethany didn’t pull back.

Reassured by that, he spread his fingers out, cupping the delicate curves. Her lashes lowered completely, shielding lovely eyes. Warmth gathered inside him, like a tightly wound ball. Why, out of everyone, did he have to feel this way with her — a human?

Did it matter? Honestly? Dawson had never looked at humans the way Daemon and most of the other Luxen did. They weren’t frail, helpless, or inferior creatures. So why would he be surprised at being attracted to one?

And then it hit him. Dawson just hadn’t expected her.

…

Several heartbeats passed before Bethany swallowed. Inviting Dawson to her house was pretty much a bold move on her part. So she’d been a ball of nerves all day. When she’d broken the news to her parents, she’d had to give them Dawson’s life story, which wasn’t much. Then she’d been all jumpy with him in her bedroom, so close to the damn paintings she’d done of him now hidden away in her closet.

Somehow, with him sitting on her bed, it changed things.

The whole point of inviting him over was so that he’d returned the invite — bring her to his house. Now she wasn’t really thinking about that.

Dawson was inching closer, his breath moving over her lashes, the tip of her nose, her cheek… She felt like she’d lost her balance.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he asked, voice deep and husky.

“No.” But he really didn’t have to. She could tell by the way he looked at her, and that was better than any pretty words.

His breath danced over her chin. “You’re beautiful.”

Okay, hearing the words really was super nice. “Thank you. You aren’t too bad yourself.”

As Dawson laughed, his nose brushed hers, and she sucked in air like she’d never breathed before. He was so damn close…

“I want to kiss you.” There was a pause, and her heart soared, chest swelled. “Is that all right with you?” he asked.

Was it? Oh, wow, yes it was. But she couldn’t find the words. So she nodded. Before she could close her eyes, Dawson breached the minuscule space separating them and brought his mouth flush against hers.

He brushed his lips over hers, and she felt the velvety-soft touch all the way to the tips of her curled toes. Then his mouth moved over hers again, as if testing what she thought, waiting for her response. With her heart in her throat, she placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned in.

A shudder rolled through Dawson, and he cupped her cheek. Her skin hummed as the kiss deepened. Somehow one of her hands ended up clutching the front of his sweater, pulling him closer, because there was still some space between them and that space was too much.

Dawson’s hand slid to the nape of her neck, guiding her down so that she was under him and his arms were the perfect kind of cage. And he kept kissing her, changing the angle, causing her pulse to thrum through her body and along her nerve endings. Then he pressed down, fitted against her from knees to shoulders, and she was drifting in raw emotions and heat.

A very real, intense heat that beat at her, lapped at her in waves.

There was something magical in the way he kissed, because she swore she was seeing stars behind her lids. It was taking the air right out of her lungs. Slow, heady warmth stole through her veins. Something buzzed, like a timer in her ears, but boy oh boy, she didn’t care. Not when Dawson was kissing her. Not when a hand fell to her shoulder, slid down her arm, over the curve of her waist, to her hip.

Not even when the white light behind her lids grew to be so intense she had to open her eyes.