The Darkest Star

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  That wasn’t fair or right.

  For some unknown reason, as I stared at them, an image of Luc formed in the back of my head. I could easily see him sitting with them. Well, I could easily picture him sitting at the end of the table like he was ruling over them.

  Did any of his siblings survive the invasion? Were there three Lucs?

  Oh dear.

  “Stop staring at them,” hissed April.

  Feeling my cheeks heat, I swung my gaze back to her. “What?”

  “At them—the Luxen.”

  “I’m not staring at them.”

  “Yes, you totally are.” She lifted her brows as she glanced over her shoulder. “Ugh. Whatever. I don’t have that big of a problem with them being here, but do they really have to be? Can’t they have their own schools or something? Is that too much to ask?”

  My grip tightened on my fork. “April…”

  Zoe closed her eyes while she rubbed at her brow like her head was about to implode. “Here we go.”

  “What?” April said, glancing at the table by the doors. “They don’t make me feel comfortable.”

  “They’ve been going to our school for almost three years. Have they ever done anything to you?” Zoe demanded.

  “They could’ve before they started going here. You know that when they’re in their real skin or whatever you want to call it, they all look alike.”

  “Oh my God,” I groaned, placing my fork on my plate so I didn’t turn it into a projectile. Now I knew the answer to my only question about why the Luxen sat together and didn’t really mingle with the rest of us.

  Because of people like April.

  “I’m out.” Heidi picked her bag off the floor as she rose, sending me a sympathetic look. She knew I wouldn’t leave Zoe to fend for herself. There was a good chance one of these days, Zoe would snap and knock April into next week. “I got to run to the library real quick.”

  “Bye.” I wiggled my fingers, watching her skirt the table and then go dump her trash.

  April was completely undaunted. “That’s the truth. You seriously cannot tell them apart. They all look like glowy human-shaped blobs. So maybe one of them did something when they first got here. How would I know?”

  “Girl…” Zoe shook her head. “They don’t give two craps about you. They are just trying to get an education and live their lives. And anyway, what can they do to you? Nothing.”

  “What can they do? Jesus, Zoe. They are like walking weapons. They can shoot bolts of electricity from their fingertips and they’re super-strong—like, X-Men-level strong.” The centers of April’s cheeks turned rosy. “Or have you forgotten how they killed millions of people?”

  “I didn’t forget,” snapped Zoe.

  “They can’t do that anymore,” I reminded April even though all I could think of was Luc and the other Luxen I’d seen at the club. They were not wearing Disablers.

  April’s foot started tapping under the table, and that was the first sign she was seconds away from really blowing up. “Well, I hope the changes to ARP go through. I really do.”

  “April thinks that it’s completely okay to round up people and relocate them against their will. That’s what the ARP changes are.” Zoe leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. “Registering them is no longer enough. They want to move them to God knows where, supposedly to these new communities designed for them. How can you be okay with that?”

  I glanced over to where James was, but his seat was empty. I looked up and didn’t see him anywhere. Smart boy. He’d bounced out of here like a rubber ball.

  “First off, they’re not people; they’re aliens,” April corrected her with another impressive roll of her eyes. “Secondly, last time I checked, Earth belonged to humans and not glowing aliens who killed millions of people. It’s not their right to live here. They’re guests. Unwanted ones, at that.”

  “Hell yeah!” yelled some guy from the table behind her. Probably the one she’d almost elbowed in the stomach. “You tell them!”

  Heat now crawled down my throat as I slumped down in my seat a little. April was so loud. So very loud.

  “And my third and final point is that these communities aren’t just to keep us safe.” April folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. “They’re to keep them safe too. You heard about them being attacked. Sometimes separate is better. And it’s already kind of like that. Look at Breaker Subdivision. They like being around their own kind.”

  Breaker Subdivision was a neighborhood just like any community of homes that literally looked identical to one another. The one big thing that set it apart was the fact that only Luxen lived there.

  “You sound like a politician,” I told her. “Like one of those creepy ones who don’t blink when they’re talking into the cameras.”

  “I blinked. Like, five times during the very impressive speech I just gave.”

  I arched a brow.

  Zoe pressed her lips together. “The Luxen don’t want to hurt us.”

  “How do we know that?” April shot back.

  “Maybe because there hasn’t been an attack in over three years?” Zoe suggested, her tone pitching like she was explaining something to a misbehaving toddler. “That could be good evidence of such a belief.”

  “Just like there weren’t attacks leading up to the night they made our planet their bitch?” April widened her eyes. “We didn’t know they existed until they literally came zooming out of the sky and started killing everyone, but that didn’t change anything.”

  A dull throb started in my temples as I pushed strands of hair out of my face and my gaze crept back to the table full of aliens. Could they hear April? I looked away, wanting to crawl under the table. “I’m pretty sure they just want to be left alone.”

  Frustration heightened the color in April’s cheeks. “I know you can’t be a fan of them, Evie.”

  My hands dropped into my lap as I stared at her, and I knew what she was going to do. She was so going to go there.

  “Your father died because of them.” April’s voice was low and urgent, as if I had no idea that had occurred. “You can’t be okay with them living next to you or going to school with us.”

  “I can’t believe you just brought up her dad.” Zoe grabbed the edges of her tray, and for a second I thought she might smack April on the head with it. “You know, you’re like a test run at having a child who disappoints you on the regular.”

  April’s expression was the definition of unrepentant.

  “None of this has anything to do with what happened to my dad.” I drew in a shallow breath. “And yeah, some of them are scary, but—”

  “But what?” Zoe asked quietly, her gaze latched on to mine.

  I shoved my hand through my hair and then lifted a shoulder. My tongue tied up. I struggled to get out the words I wanted to say. I didn’t know how to feel about the Luxen, especially after everything Mom had told me. No matter what my dad did or didn’t do, he died fighting them. And no matter if some of them had been on Team Human for years, they still scared me. What human in their right mind wouldn’t be scared of them?

  I just didn’t know.

  And I also didn’t know if that was, in fact, worse than having an opinion.

  April shrugged as she scooped up a forkful of spaghetti. “Maybe this discussion is pointless. Maybe none of it will matter.”

  I looked at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  A small twist of a smile curled her lips. “I don’t know. Maybe they’ll smarten up and decide there’s another planet out there more … accommodating to them.”

  11

  Zoe waited for me by my locker at the end of the day as I switched out my books, grabbing my bio textbook so I could prepare for an exam tomorrow.

  “Are you heading home?” she asked, resting her head against the locker next to mine.

  “I should.” I grinned when Zoe lifted her brows. “But it’s so nice outside and I was thinking about heading out to the p
ark.”

  “Taking pictures?”

  I nodded. The weather was perfect for taking photos, cooling down so the leaves were changing colors. Impromptu photo sessions were why I always kept my Nikon with me from the moment Mom had surprised me with it last Christmas. “Mom didn’t say I was grounded.”

  “Sure,” Zoe drew the word out. “Good luck with that.”

  I closed the locker door and then hitched my bag up on my shoulder. “What are you up to?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Need to study, but I’m probably going to just sit on the couch and marathon old episodes of Family Guy.”

  I laughed as we headed down the hall toward the parking lot. Zoe’s parents, both of them, had died before the invasion in some kind of freak plane accident, so she had been shipped off to live with her uncle, who was never home. I only saw him once from a distance. They used to live closer to DC, but had ended up here after everything.

  “So, I only heard bits and pieces about your trip with Heidi to that club.” Zoe caught the door, holding it open as we stepped out into the bright afternoon sun. “She was telling me it got raided while you guys were there?”

  I pulled my sunglasses out of my bag and slid them on as we followed the mass of people going toward the parking lot. “Yeah, it was wild. I’ve never seen anything like that. At all.”

  “There’s a reason why Heidi didn’t ask me to go with you guys. I would’ve told her no.”

  “I couldn’t tell her no. She’s been going there by herself for a while now, and I just wanted to, you know, for her not to be alone.” I stepped around a couple who looked seconds away from either making out or screaming at each other. “I didn’t even get a chance to meet Emery.”

  Zoe was quiet for a moment and then she nudged me with her elbow. “So I heard there was this guy there.…”

  Groaning, I rolled my eyes as we climbed the small hill. What did Heidi not tell her? “There was a Luxen guy there who was a complete ass. Is that who you’re talking about?”

  “That’s the guy who showed up at your house?” When I nodded, she let out a low whistle. “I bet your mom freaked.”

  “You have no idea,” I muttered dryly. Out of all my friends, Zoe was the most … logical one, the calmest one. There was very little we kept from each other, so keeping everything from her felt wrong.

  Honestly, she should’ve been at the club Friday night. She would’ve made sure I didn’t end up in that hidey-hole with Luc. “So, I didn’t tell anyone else this, but when he showed up at my house, Mom pulled a gun on him.”

  “What?” She let out a shocked laugh.

  “Yep.” I kept my voice down as we neared Zoe’s car. Since I hadn’t gotten to school super-early that morning, I had to trek all the way to the back of the parking lot, near the football field.

  “Wow,” she said, laughing again. From the field, a whistle blew. “What did he do?”

  “He melted the barrel.” I shivered at the reminder. To have that kind of unchecked power was unbelievable.

  “That … was all he did?” Zoe reached the door of her car.

  “I think that was enough.” Of course that wasn’t all that Luc had done. “He actually…”

  “What?”

  My cheeks started to burn. I wanted to tell her—tell someone—but at the same time, telling someone felt like that meant I was thinking about it. That I cared about it.

  I wasn’t thinking about the non-kiss. Well, except for last night, when I couldn’t sleep, and the night before that.

  Zoe nudged my arm.

  “He wasn’t wearing a Disabler,” I said instead, shoving thoughts of kissing aside. “I don’t think he’s registered.”

  Leaning against the back door of her car, Zoe crossed her arms. “I think there probably are a lot of them who aren’t registered.”

  “Yeah.”

  She was quiet for a moment. “Anyway, what April brought up at lunch was so wrong.”

  “Which part?”

  She rolled her eyes. “All of it, but especially bringing up your dad like that. It was messed up.”

  “It was.” I dug a thick bobby pin out of the pocket of my jeans, then bent over and gathered up my hair. “But that’s April.”

  “I don’t know.” Zoe squinted as she stared out over the football field. “Sometimes she worries me.”

  Twisting my hair into a bun, I managed to keep my sunglasses on and shove the bobby pin into the thick mass. “She always worries me.” I straightened. “There are days when I don’t even know why I’m friends with her.”

  “There are days I wonder how I haven’t pushed her in front of a bus,” Zoe admitted.

  My smile faded as I thought about the conversation with Mom. If April had known my dad had done bad things, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything she’d said, because my father’s death fit her narrative—her agenda when she talked about the Luxen.

  “You okay?” She moved several curls out of her face.

  “Yeah.” I smiled. “Why?”

  Her brows lifted. “You had a pretty interesting weekend.”

  And she didn’t even know all of it. “Yeah, I did, but I’m okay. Totally.”

  She studied me a moment and then pushed away from the car. “All right, I’ve got to run. Text me later?”

  “Yep.” I waved good-bye to her, then headed behind her car and started rooting around for my keys. I made a promise that I would get to school earlier from now on, because this hike sucked. I found my keys just as my car came into view. I unlocked it, opened the back door, and tossed my bag onto the seat.

  I didn’t even know how it happened.

  I must’ve left my bag half unzipped, because the next thing I knew, a rainbow of notebooks slid out, slipping onto the gravel. My camera inched out next. Gasping, I dropped my keys and lurched forward, catching the camera before it hit the hard ground.

  Closing my eyes, I let out a ragged breath. “Oh, thank you, baby Jesus.”

  “Here you go.”

  Startled by the deep voice, I lost my precarious balance and fell backward, plopping onto my butt. My head jerked up as I clutched my camera to my chest. A guy stood next to my car. Brown hair brushed dark sunglasses. A warm smile curved his lips as he picked up my notebooks. My gaze flew back to his face.

  “These are yours, right?” he asked.

  I eyed the notebooks. “Yeah. They are.”

  His head tilted to the side. “Do you … want them back?”

  For a moment I didn’t move and then I snapped forward, onto my knees. I grabbed the notebooks. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He stepped back as I got up. A dimple appeared in his right cheek. “See you later.”

  Holding my notebooks, I watched him pivot. Some type of leather messenger bag thumped off his thigh as he cut around the back of my car, walking through another row of cars.

  “Huh,” I murmured. I didn’t recognize the guy. Granted, the sunglasses had shielded half his face, but he had to be a student. From what I could see of his face, he looked pretty cute. I really needed to start paying more attention to who I had class with.

  Shaking my head, I shoved my notebooks back into my bag, zipped it up, and then shoved the door closed. I bent over, snatching up my keys. Still holding on to my camera, I opened the driver’s-side door and then came to a complete stop. A weird feeling hit me. The tiny hairs along the back of my neck rose.

  It felt like … like someone was watching me.

  Maybe I was just being paranoid, but I scanned the parking lot. There were people, lots of them, and no one was paying any attention to me, but the feeling didn’t go away. Even when I got into my car and turned it on, the sensation lingered like summer’s heat.

  * * *

  As I was walking the path along the still waters of Centennial Lake, I lifted my camera and stepped back. Composition of a photo pretty much came down to the rule of thirds. Of course, it didn’t work for all photos and I didn’t follow the rule for outdoors o
nes. I always liked photos where the object was slightly off-centered.

  I snapped a picture of one of the largest trees, loving the contrast of its leaves against the deep blue of the sky. Then I zoomed in on the burnt gold and red leaves.

  I didn’t like to look at my pictures until I got home and was able to load them onto my computer. If I got caught up in checking them out, I’d end up just focusing on one image and miss everything else around me.

  Keeping to the edge of the pathway, I was careful not to bother the joggers and people walking their dogs. There were a lot of people out, and as the day progressed, the park would be packed. I could already hear childlike shouts and giggles coming from the playground.

  I came to Centennial Lake often, at least once a week for the last year or so. I loved being outside, taking pictures even though I knew I probably wasn’t that good at it. Mom said my film was great and that I had talent. So did Zoe and Heidi. James wasn’t interested unless the photos were of hot chicks in bikinis. Usually April laughed at my pictures. That was if she was paying attention when I shared them.

  I doubted Mom or Zoe would tell me I was terrible. Sucking didn’t matter, though. It wasn’t why I took pictures. I did it because of how it made me feel.

  Or how it didn’t make me feel.

  My brain just sort of emptied out while I had a camera in my hand. I didn’t think about anything—about how scary the invasion had been. I didn’t think about the surreal quality of the last four years or what had happened the night at the club. I sure as hell didn’t think about the kiss that didn’t even count as a real kiss. Or everything my mom had told me.

  The camera put a wall up between the world and me, and it was an escape, one I looked forward to. I cut off the pathway and trekked up a small mound that overlooked the playground, then sat down. Laughter and squeals drew my attention and I lifted the camera, catching a small girl darting from the slides to the swings, her pigtails bouncing. Another kid, a little boy, nearly belly-flopped off the swing, letting the seat spin back. I caught the empty seat swinging, snapping a picture of it floating, the seat cockeyed in flight.