“Why would they have Dawson? They told us he was dead. Obviously Bethany isn’t, but that doesn’t mean he’s alive. So get that out of your head, Daemon.”

Anger flashed in Daemon’s deep green eyes. “If it was one of your siblings, would you ’get it out of your head’?”

“All my siblings are dead.” Matthew stalked across the room, stopping in front of us. “You guys are all I have left, and I will not stand by and humor false hope that will get you killed or worse!”

Daemon sat down beside me, taking a deep breath. “You’re family to us, too. And Dawson also considered you family, Matthew.”

Pain flashed in Matthew’s ultra-bright eyes, and he looked away. “I know. I know.” He moved over to his recliner and sat down heavily, shaking his head. “Honestly, it would be best if he weren’t alive, and you know that. I can’t even imagine…”

“But if he is, we need to do something about it.” Daemon paused. “And if he’s truly dead, then…”

Then what kind of closure would that be? They’d already believed he was dead, and finding out that it wasn’t the Arum would rip open old wounds and dump salt on them.

“You don’t understand, Daemon. The DOD would have no interest in Bethany unless…unless Dawson healed her.”

Blake had been saying this all along. The confirmation relieved me.

“What are you saying, Matthew?” Daemon asked, keeping up with the cluelessness.

Matthew rubbed his brow, wincing. “The elders…they don’t talk about why we’re not allowed to heal humans, and they have good reason. It’s forbidden, not only because of the risk of exposure on our end, but because of what it does to a human. They know. So do I.”

“What?” Daemon glanced at me. “Do you know what happens?”

He nodded. “It alters the human, splicing his or her DNA with ours. There has to be a true want for it to work, though. The human takes on our abilities, but it doesn’t always stick. Sometimes it fades. Sometimes the human dies from it or the change backfires. But if successful, it forms a connection between the two.”

As Matthew went on, Daemon grew more agitated, and rightfully so. “The connection between a human and a Luxen after a massive healing is unbreakable at a cellular level. It marries the two together. One cannot survive if the other perishes.”

My mouth dropped open. Blake had so not told me that, but that meant…

Daemon was on his feet, chest rising with every rough, painful breath. “Then if Bethany is alive…”

“Then Dawson would have to be alive,” Matthew finished, sounding weary. “If he had in fact healed her.”

He had to have. There was no other reason why the DOD would be interested in Bethany.

Daemon just stared at the fire, twisting and curling on itself. Once again, I wanted to do something to comfort him, but what could I really do to make any of this better?

I shook my head. “But you just said he couldn’t be alive.”

“That was my weakest attempt to persuade this one from getting himself killed.”

“Did you…did you know this the entire time?” Raw emotion filled Daemon’s voice. His form started to fade, as if he were losing all control. “Did you?”

Matthew shook his head. “No. No! I believed both of them to be dead, but if he did heal her—did change her—and she’s alive, then he has to be alive. That’s a big if—an if based on whether or not Katy really did recognize someone she’s never met.”

Daemon sat down, eyes glittering in the firelight. “My brother’s alive. He’s…he’s alive.” He sounded numb, lost, even.

Wanting to cry for Daemon, I dragged in a shallow breath. “What do you think they’re doing to him?”

“I don’t know.” Matthew stood unsteadily, and I wondered how much he’d been drinking before we arrived. “Whatever it is, it can’t be…”

It couldn’t be good. And I had a sinking suspicion. According to Blake, the DOD was interested in acquiring more mutated humans. What better way to achieve that goal than capturing a Luxen and forcing him to do it? Bile rose. But if it took a true want to successfully change a human, how could Dawson truly want to heal them when forced? Was he failing, and if so, what was happening to those humans? Matthew had already said it. If the change didn’t stick, they were horribly mutated, or they died. My God, what could that do to a person—to Dawson?

“The DOD knows, Matthew. They know what we can do,” Daemon said finally. “They’ve probably known since the beginning.”

Matthew’s lashes swept up, and he met Daemon’s stare. “I’ve never truly believed they didn’t, to be honest. The only reason I never voiced my belief is because I didn’t want any of you to worry.”

“And the elders—do they know this, too?”

“The elders are just grateful to have a place to live in peace and be basically separated from the human race. Stick their heads in the sand kind of thing, Daemon. If anything, they probably choose to not believe our secrets aren’t safe.” Matthew glanced at his empty glass. “It’s…easier for them.”

That sounded incredibly stupid and I said so. Matthew smiled wryly in response. “Dear girl, you do not know what it is like to be a guest, do you? Imagine living with the knowledge that your home and everything could be whipped out from under you at any moment? But you have to lead people, keep them calm and happy—safe. The worst thing would be to voice the darkest of your concerns to the masses.” He paused, eyeing that glass again. “Tell me, what would humans do if they knew aliens lived among them?”

My cheeks flamed. “Uh, they’d probably riot and go nuts.”

“Exactly,” he murmured. “Our kinds are not that different.”

Nothing was really said after that. We all sat there, lost in our own troubles. My heart was cracking into a million pieces because I knew Daemon wanted to rush Vaughn and Nancy right now, but he wasn’t that reckless. There was Dee, and any action he took would affect her.

And apparently it would also affect me. If he died, then I’d die. I couldn’t even fully wrap my head around that. Not right now with everything else going on. I decided to leave that until later to freak out over.

“What about the Arum thing?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” Matthew refilled his glass. “I can’t even fathom a reason why the DOD would be working with them—what they could even gain. The Arum absorb our powers, but never healing—nothing of that magnitude. They have a different heat signature than we do, so with the right tools, the DOD would know they weren’t dealing with us, but to walk up to an Arum or a Luxen on the street, there would be no way to tell us apart.”

“Wait.” I tucked my hair back, glancing at a silent Daemon. “What if the DOD captured an Arum, believing it to be a Luxen, and you guys were studied, too, right? Forced to assimilate into the human world? I don’t know what assimilation entails, but I’m sure it was some kind of observation, so wouldn’t they have noticed eventually, especially with the heat-signature thing?”

Matthew got up, went to a cabinet in the far corner. Opening it, he pulled out a square bottle and poured himself a glass. “When we were being assimilated, they never saw our abilities. So, if we work off the theory that they’ve known for some time, they studied our abilities on Luxen who could never tell us that the DOD is aware what we can do.”

Nausea rose sharply. “You’re saying that those Luxen would be…”

“Dead,” he said, turning around and taking a drink. “I’m not sure how much Daemon has told you, but there were Luxen who didn’t assimilate. They were put down…like feral animals. No stretch of the imagination to believe that they used some Luxen to study their abilities, to learn about us, and then got rid of them.”

Or sent them back as spies—ones who could keep an eye on the others, report back to the DOD with any suspicious activity. Seemed paranoid, but this was the government we were talking about.

“But that doesn’t explain why the Arum would work with the DOD.”

“It doesn’t.” Matthew moved to the fireplace. He propped his elbow on the mantel, swirling the ruby liquid with his other hand. “I am afraid to theorize over what that could mean.”

“Part of me doesn’t even care about that right now.” Daemon finally spoke again, sounding tired. “Someone betrayed Dawson. Someone had to tell the DOD.”

“It could be anyone,” Matthew said wearily. “Dawson didn’t try to hide his relationship with Bethany. And if anyone was watching them closely, they could’ve suspected something happened. We all watched them when they first got together. I’m sure some of us didn’t stop.”

That did nothing to really calm Daemon. Not that I expected it to. We left Matthew’s house shortly after that, silent and stuck somewhere between hope and despair.

At my mom’s car, I handed him the keys when he asked for them. I started toward the passenger side, then stopped. Turning around, I went back to him and snaked my arms around his taut body.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, squeezing him tight. “We’ll figure out something. We’ll get him back.”

After a moment of hesitation, his arms wrapped around me and held me so tightly I could’ve molded to him. “I know,” he said against the top of my head, his voice firm and strong. “I’ll get him back if it’s the last thing I do.”

And part of me already knew and was afraid of what Daemon was willing to sacrifice for his brother.

Chapter 24

Daemon didn’t want his sister to know Dawson was most likely alive. I promised, mainly because I understood that imagining what was being done to Dawson right now was probably worse than thinking he was dead. Daemon didn’t want to share that helplessness with his sister.

He was that kind of guy, and I respected him for it.

But there was a rising tide of sorrow for his brother I wished I could take away.

During the next couple of days, I did my training with Blake and then after he left, Daemon and I would drive to Moorefield. Brian hadn’t returned home since the night we’d seen him and Nancy with the Arum. I had no idea what Daemon planned, but whatever it was, I wasn’t letting him do it alone, and for once he wasn’t hell-bent on doing everything alone.

On the Thursday before Christmas break, Blake and I worked on manipulating light. It was harder than freezing an object. I had to pull from within me, to tap into an ability I had no real understanding of.

Frustrated after hours of me not being able to produce even a spark of the deadly light, Blake looked like he wanted to run his head into a wall. “It’s not that hard, Katy. You have it in you.”

My foot tapped the floor. “I’m trying.”

Blake sat on the arm of the recliner, rubbing his brow. “You can move things easily now. This shouldn’t be that much harder.”