Shadows (18 page)

“Yeah, I just don’t think I’ve ever been this high up before.”

Dawson smiled. “We aren’t that high up, Bethany.”

Her throat worked. “It doesn’t feel that way.”

Was she afraid of heights? Oh crap, if that were the case, this was a bad idea. “You want to head back down? We can.”

“No.” She shook her head, giving him a wobbly smile as she pried her fingers off his arm. “I want to do this with you. Just…just go slowly, okay?”

Part of him wanted to pick her up and zip her back down to the meadow below, but she insisted and he trusted her to tell him when she’d had enough.

Twenty minutes later, he scrambled up the flat rock and reached down to her. “Give me your hand. I’ll pull you up.”

Eyes narrowed with determination, she placed her hand in his. Warmth cascaded through his chest in response to her trust. Tugging her up, he held her until she was ready to stand. And when she did, he noticed that her legs shook a little as she turned around.

Bethany clutched the camera hanging around her neck. “It’s beautiful.”

He rose to his feet, placing his hands on his hips as he took it all in. The sky was that rare, perfect kind of blue. Clouds were fluffy, looking like they were painted in. Tips of ancient elms rose up, concealing the ground below.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “It’s amazing. A different world up here.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “It would be so cool to be able to sit up here and paint.”

“We could do that.”

Bethany laughed. “I don’t think I’d be able to get my stuff up here.”

“Ye of little faith,” he teased. “I can zip your stuff up here and have it ready in three seconds.”

She grinned. “It’s so strange. Sometimes I just forget…what you are.”

Most people wouldn’t know how to take that, but he recognized it for what it was. And that was why he…why he loved her.

Looking away, he clamped his mouth shut. The words had been in his chest for weeks, maybe months, demanding to be spoken, but any time he tried to force them out of his mouth, he locked up. Bethany hadn’t said those words, either, and if she didn’t feel the same, he was afraid he’d scare her off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her inch cautiously toward the edge. “Be careful,” he said.

“I’m always careful.”

Dawson pivoted around and crossed to the other side of the rock. From where he stood, he was almost in perfect alignment with where the colony existed. He sighed, closing his eyes. Neither him nor Daemon had heard from them since the beginning of this year. Soon, he realized, soon he would have to face them, and they’d want to talk about mating. What would he say? There was no way he could even entertain the idea of being with someone else. But he couldn’t tell them about Bethany. He wouldn’t be able to tell them anything. And that would go over like a—

A wicked sense of dread shot through him, forcing his eyes open. He glanced down at the sandstone rocks below his feet. The crystals embedded deep into the sediment winked. The surface was shiny, still damp from the recent rain. Slick—

A gasp shattered his core, barely audible but as loud as thunder. The scream that came next chilled his entire body.

There hadn’t even been a second—time seemed to have stopped, though. His heart pounded in his chest as he whipped around, catching the blurred outline of Beth’s flailing arms.

Lead settled in his stomach, but he shot forward, slipping out of his form without thinking about it. He was fast, but all it took was a second—a second for gravity to do its thing. To reach up and suck Bethany down into nothing but space.

But it was worse than just empty air, because then he would’ve had time to catch her.

He went over the edge blindly, knowing that the side she’d slipped off of had several jagged outcroppings that were bone breaking.

And one, a spike about ten fight long and six feet wide, had stopped her fall about thirty feet down.

His light flared around them, until he could no longer see her pale face but only an outline.

He’d promised he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. A second—a goddamn second—he had turned away from her. This was his fault. He shouldn’t have brought her up here after so much rain had soaked the ground, coating the bottom of her sneakers. He shouldn’t have kept going up the hill when he’d seen how nervous she was, how shaky her legs were.

He should’ve been able to stop this—to save her. What the hell kind of power did he have if he couldn’t have
saved
her?

Dawson screamed again, the sound in his ears that of sorrow and rage. But Bethany couldn’t hear it. No one could hear it. Something wet was on his cheeks. Tears, maybe. He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t see past the pulsating light.

He rested his head against hers, his mouth inches away from her parted lips. His body shook. He inhaled and then exhaled…and the world seemed to stop again.

Wake up. Wake up. Please wake up.

An unknown instinct propelled him forward, a whispering of ages before him. An image filled his mind, of Bethany basked inside and outside in light—
his
light. It poured through her body, a part of him attaching to her skin, muscles, and bones. He invaded her blood, wrapped himself around her on a cellular level, mending and repairing, healing torn skin and muscle, stitching together shattered bones. It went on and on, seconds into minutes, minutes into hours. Or maybe it wasn’t even a minute that had passed. Dawson didn’t know. But he wasn’t breathing; he wasn’t losing the image or the pleading litany in his head.

Wake up. Wake up. Please wake up.

At first, he wasn’t sure what was happening. He thought he felt her stir in his arms. Then he thought he heard a rough first breath—a weak gulp of air.

Wake up. Wake up. Please wake up.

He was shaking, his light pulsating erratically.

“Dawson?”

The sound of her voice—oh, her sweet voice—destroyed his world for the third time. His eyes flew open, but he still couldn’t see her beyond his own light.

Bethany? Are you…?
He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t believe somehow she was alive in his arms. And how could she be? Along with losing her, he’d lost his mind. A wave of raw pain crashed through him.
Bethany, I love you. I’m sorry I never told you. I love you. I wish I had told you. I love you. And I can’t…

I love you, too.

Those whispered words weren’t spoken out loud. They were inside him, reverberating through his body and the part of him that had developed something human—a soul.

He pulled his light back into himself. He couldn’t believe what he saw.

Bethany stared up at him, her warm brown eyes shining with tears. Her face was still pale, but color infused her cheeks. There were smudges of blood around her ears and at the corner of her mouth, but she was looking at him.

“Bethany?” he croaked.

She nodded and whispered, “Yeah.”

Hands shaking, he touched her face, and when she closed her eyes, he panicked. “Bethany!”

Her eyes flew open. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

It couldn’t be, but she was alive and breathing in his arms. He ran his fingers down her cheeks, smoothing away the hair caked with blood. His chest was doing that crazy swelling thing again. “Oh, God, I thought…I thought I lost you.”

“I think you might have.” She gave a shaky laugh. “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve been paying—”

“No. Don’t apologize. This wasn’t your fault.” He kissed her forehead, then her cheek and the tip of her nose. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay. I’m tired…a little dizzy, but I feel good.”

He was exhausted. As if he’d fought a hundred Arum all at once. Pressing his forehead against hers, he breathed in her clean scent. He couldn’t close his eyes, afraid she might vanish.

Bethany trembled. “What did you do, Dawson?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

She let go of his hand and cupped his cheek. “Whatever you did, it saved…it saved me.”

Bethany was alive! She was here in his arms, touching him. His cheeks felt wet again, but he didn’t care. Nothing else mattered except the girl he cradled to him.

…

Bethany stayed in his arms and on that damn cliff for what felt like hours, and she didn’t want to ever leave his embrace. She was warm wrapped in his arms. But they had to go. She stood, surprised that she even could. There was no doubt in her mind that at least one of her legs had been broken. And by the amount of blood that had dried in her hair, she was sure her skull had been cracked like an egg.

She put the pause on those thoughts.

Right now, she couldn’t even begin to think about what had happened.

Dawson looked weary as he climbed, but he lifted her off her feet, holding her against his chest. There was only one way to get back down. “Hold on and close your eyes,” he said.

Bethany did as instructed and felt the change in him. His body hummed, and she could see his bright light behind her lids. The wind rushed at her face, blowing her hair back. Seconds later, his lips brushed her forehead. When she realized he was walking, she struggled in his arms. He was obviously weaker now and shouldn’t be carrying her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said, staring at him. Dark smudges had already bloomed under his eyes. What he did had worn him out. “But I can walk.”

“I’d rather carry you.”

She smiled. “I’m not going to fall again. I promise.”

Dawson didn’t find the joke funny, not that she blamed him. It took a little convincing that she could walk before he set her down, but he didn’t let go of her hand or take his eyes off her the whole way back to the car.

The drive to his house was quick and quiet. When he killed the engine in front of the house, he faced her. “Bethany…”

In that instant, she remembered what she’d heard. Him saying he loved her over and over again. A knot formed in her throat, and her eyes burned. “Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely. “For whatever you did. Thank you and I love you.”

Dawson leaned back in his seat, smiling weakly. “I wish—”

“I know. I heard you. And that’s all that matters.”

He kissed her gently, as if he were afraid he’d hurt her. “I’m going to drive you and your car home, then come back to my house.”

“I’m really okay.” She glanced down at herself. Her shorts were torn and her hoodie was bloodied. She was a mess. Thank God her parents had taken Phillip to a puppet show in Cumberland and Uncle Will would most likely be in bed when she got there.

Outside of the car, he pulled her into a fierce hug that she didn’t want to end. He smoothed back her hair, kissed her until she thought she’d stopped breathing again.

“You’re glowing,” he murmured against her temple.

“How badly?”

“You’re bright but beautiful.” There was a pause when he kissed her forehead. “Brighter than I’ve seen. I’ll feel better getting you home and checking out the area first, okay?”

Oh, no. Her heart sank. All the ground they’d made with the others would be lost. “Your family and friends—”

“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

It was hard not to worry, but right now, her brain was spinning with everything. Once inside her car, he got behind the steering wheel and smiled at her. He looked so tired; his hair was a mess of black waves and his shirt was covered in her…her blood. She swallowed thickly, forcing her gaze forward.

Standing on the porch was Daemon. By the brutal look on his face, there was no doubt that he’d seen them—seen her trace.

…

Bethany’s house was dark and silent when she walked in. All she wanted to do was shower all the blood and grime off and sleep for a year. Dawson was coming back over, and she was going to sneak him in. A first for her, but she knew he honestly needed to be near her right now. Dawson was rattled, still shaky over what happened.

So was she.

In the kitchen, she grabbed a bottle of water and downed it in one gulp. The memory of falling haunted her steps as she threw the plastic in the trash. She’d fallen and the impact—oh, God—the pain had been so intense but brief. Final.

And then there had been nothing.

Bethany wasn’t sure how long that nothing had lasted, but the next thing she’d heard was Dawson telling her to please wake up and that he loved her. At first, she’d been confused. Had she fallen asleep? But then it hit her.