Oblivion

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  and the bitter twang of fear coated the inside of my mouth. I staggered to the side, searching for a way around, but there was none. She was on the other side, and she wasn’t alone. There were Arum and there were soldiers piling into the hall behind her. She was trapped.

  She was trapped with them.

  I couldn’t breathe. “Kat…”

  Sirens blasted.

  No.

  I shot forward, but I wasn’t fast enough. It was too late. Emergency doors started to slide down from the top and the bottom. Pure panic fueled my actions. I stopped thinking as more and more of Kat disappeared behind the doors. I reached for her, determined to make it through the lasers in one piece out of sheer will.

  She threw out her hand, and I felt the Source punch through the shield, smacking into my chest and pushing me back—away from the lasers. I fought the concentrated blast until arms clamped down on my waist, holding me back, pulling me away from her.

  I lost my mind.

  Twisting around, I slammed my fist into Matthew’s jaw, but he held on, and after another punch, I gave up on him. Dragging him forward, I reached for Kat. I had to get to her, one way or another, I had to get to her.

  Kat dropped to her knees, and I was a second behind her, hitting mine as Matthew managed to bring me down. Her lower lip trembled as her chest rose sharply. Something cracked in my chest, fissured down my core. Terror I’d never known before exploded.

  “No! Please! No!” My voice broke. “Kat!”

  They were crowding in around her, but she never took her eyes off me. She held my gaze as I tried to shake off Matthew.

  Then she smiled a little, and my chest imploded. It was weak and wobbly and frail, and a part of me died right there.

  “It’ll be okay,” she said, her eyes welling with wetness. “It’ll be all right.”

  The doors were almost closed as I reached out, my fingers spread. Matthew jerked me back, and I braced myself with my other hand. My heart pounded as she was seconds from disappearing behind the door, seconds from being cut off from me.

  My chest ripped right open and I said what I should’ve said days ago, weeks and months ago. “I love you, Katy. Always have. Always will. I will come back for you. I will—”

  The doors sealed shut.

  She was gone.

  I stared at the doors, shaking my head again. “Kat? Kat!” I shouted.

  “Come on.” Matthew pulled me back, coming to his feet. “Daemon, we’ve got to go.”

  I didn’t move. I was dead weight.

  “Kat!” I screamed at the door, my voice breaking over the siren.

  Dawson was suddenly there, grabbing my other arm, and I pulled free, swinging at him, but Matthew caught me from behind, wrapping his arms around mine, pinning them to my sides.

  The look in Dawson’s eyes was wild. “I’m sorry, but we’ve got—”

  “This wasn’t the plan!” I shouted in his face. “We were supposed to make sure she got out!” I twisted in Matthew’s grip. “Let me the hell go. I need to get her.”

  “You can’t,” Matthew said. “We can’t get to her now. Daemon, we’ve got to go.”

  The horror of reality soaked into me. “She’s gone,” I whispered, staring at my brother, and then I lost my shit all over again.

  I broke free from Matthew and whirled toward the door. I pulled on the Source, intent on blowing a hole right through it. I would get to her, one way or another I would get to her.

  Matthew cursed.

  Sudden pain exploded along the back of my head, and I took one step before my legs went out from underneath me. I crumbled like a damn paper bag, down for the count, seeing blackness instead of stars. My brother’s face blurred into focus for a moment.

  “She’s gone,” I repeated as my vision darkened. “Kat’s gone.”

  And then there was nothing.

  Please keep reading….

  Somewhere off Spring Mills exit in Berkeley County, West Virginia

  “I know you’re pissed at me.”

  Paris closed the door behind him, eyeing the young man who was more than just his boss. Luc was his savior. The kid might only be fourteen, and had been much younger when they’d first met, but Luc had saved his life more than once.

  “Pissed might be too strong of a word,” Paris said after a moment.

  Luc had moved from the couch to the cash-covered desk, and he sat behind it once again. He slowly lifted his chin, piercing Paris with the odd purple-colored eyes. Eyes that were a sign of his kind, because Luc wasn’t human, and he wasn’t a hybrid like Blake and Katy.

  Luc was something far, far different.

  “I know what I’m doing.” Luc leaned back in the chair and kicked his feet up on the desk, knocking over a stack of hundreds. He was holding something in his hands, and it wasn’t that damn game system for once.

  “Do you?” Paris’s silvery gaze filled with doubt and a small measure of disappointment.

  “You know what’s going to happen to them.”

  “Who?” he asked innocently.

  His lips thinned as he neared the desk. The money flew off the floor and he caught the stack. Dropping it on the desk, he then folded his arms. “You know who I’m talking about. There is no way that girl and Daemon are going to make it out of Mount Weather.”

  Luc knocked a strand of brown hair out of his face. “I know.”

  The disappointment increased as he stared at Luc. “You have to stop this. You have—”

  “I don’t have to do anything.” Those amethyst eyes sharpened.

  Paris unfolded his arms and raised his hands. “You know what I mean.”

  “And you know why I have to do this. Why I need them to get inside Daedalus.”

  Struggling to not let his frustration show, Paris motioned a chair toward the desk. He sat in it once it settled on all four legs. “You have the serum, Luc. You tried it. It didn’t work.”

  A muscle spasmed along Luc’s jaw. “The old serum didn’t work. I want the serum they gave to that girl that was just in here. That serum could work.”

  “Luc—”

  “Don’t,” he warned, his eyes flashing. “Don’t tell me this is a lost cause. Nothing is a lost cause.”

  “That trip inside Mount Weather sure as hell is a lost cause,” Paris shot back.

  “For them, yes. Not for me.” Luc shrugged, causing the edges of his hair to sway. “They get captured, they’ll get back out, with what I want.”

  For a moment, all Paris could do was stare at Luc. There was no guarantee that if those two teenagers were captured, they’d survive long enough to get what Luc wanted, but Luc knew that. Luc was just willing to risk their lives.

  Luc would risk everyone’s life, including Paris’s, to get what he wanted.

  He sighed as his gaze flickered to the closed door behind the desk. “And what if it doesn’t work, Luc? What if the newest serum doesn’t heal Nadine?”

  A flicker of emotion crawled across Luc’s normally impassive expression, tightening the corners of his almond-shaped eyes. “Then I will make sure Sergeant Dasher and Nancy Husher pay for what they’ve done to her.” Paris didn’t respond to that, because what could he say? Killing was bad? Revenge got you nowhere? And what Dasher and those at Daedalus had done to Nadine, what they had done to so many innocent people and Luxen, weren’t actions easily forgivable.

  Leaning forward, Luc tossed what he held onto the desk. It was a photograph. Paris immediately recognized the man. It was Sergeant Dasher in full uniform standing next to a shorter woman with sleek ash-colored hair. In front of them was a young blonde girl. She smiled at the camera so broadly that her full cheeks looked like she had a mouthful of cotton. A cute little thing—a cute little human thing.

  An icy chill powered down Paris’s spine as he lifted his gaze and looked at Luc.

  “You know who that man is,” Luc said, laughing softly. “That’s his wife, Sylvia. She’s what men with small…well, you-know-whats, like to call a trophy
wife. And that big-cheeked girl is his daughter, Evelyn. We all know what Husher loves most in this world and that isn’t her. I will take them. And that girl there?” He paused. “That’s his pride and joy.”

  Paris had no idea how Luc got a hold of the family picture, but then again, Luc could get almost whatever he wanted.

  “I will destroy him and Nancy, and everything they cherish in this world,” Luc said calmly, as if he were discussing inviting them over for dinner.

  “Even the girl?” he murmured. “Seriously?”

  His purplish gaze was flat. “Even her.”

  Those two words rocked Paris. He jerked in his seat. Sometimes he forgot that there were very few things in this world more frightening than what Luc was and what he was capable of.

  And then there were moments like this when Luc, oh so kindly reminded him that he was the furthest thing from human and that he would do anything, risk anyone, to get what he wanted.

  Paris’s gaze fell to the photo lying next to the cash. He didn’t look at the sergeant or his wife. His gaze lingered on the smiling face of the girl only a year or two younger than Luc.

  Evelyn Dasher.

  Paris knew, and maybe even a small part of Luc realized, that what had been done to Nadine could never be undone, no matter what Luc got his hands on.

  Evelyn Dasher was as good as dead.