The Darkest Star

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “We’re selectively pretending certain things didn’t happen.”

  “God,” I groaned as disappointment trickled into my veins. It was obvious he didn’t trust me completely, and I didn’t know why that bothered me, but it did. Which was stupid, because it wasn’t like I trusted him either. “I thought we…” I thought we were past all that. Man, that was such a stupid thought, I couldn’t even begin to explain.

  His gaze sharpened. “We what?”

  I drew in a deep breath. “I do not like you.”

  Luc bowed in my direction, sending a shock of hair over his forehead.

  “Don’t be mad at him. You can never be too safe nowadays. I mean, have you seen the news? Just the other day, a known Luxen community center in Denver was bombed.”

  I hadn’t heard that.

  “Someone walked right in, put a backpack down, walked out, and blew up a bunch of innocent people, including humans. So, we’re careful.” Kent hitched my bag over his shoulder. “But I won’t let your bag out of my sight.” He brought it around to his chest and hugged it close. “It’ll be my new best friend.”

  My gaze flickered over him and his Mohawk. The hair had to be standing up a good seven inches. “Okay.”

  “I thought we could chat upstairs, where it’s more comfortable,” Luc intervened. “You coming?”

  This was how I figured most horror films started out, but in for a penny, in for a pound …

  So I sighed my annoyance and trekked after Luc. He held the door to the stairwell open for me. I walked through and started up the stairs.

  Luc easily caught up with me, and Kent was right behind him. Trying to shake the nervousness, I trailed my hand along the railing.

  Miraculously, they were quiet as we rounded the second floor. Luc kept walking, continuing up several flights of stairs, and I vaguely wondered if it would kill them to have an elevator.

  Not even out of breath while I was seconds from dying, Luc opened the door to the sixth floor. This hallway looked like the one on the second floor except it was wider and had fewer doors.

  “I’m gonna make myself scarce with your bag.” Kent walked past us, whistling what sounded like a Christmas song under his breath, and opened one of the doors down the hall. “You two kids behave yourselves! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  My eyes widened. As Kent disappeared into the room, Luc said, “Kent is … Well, he’s different, but he kind of grows on you.”

  “Yeah.” Legs burning, I forced one foot in front of the other until Luc stopped outside a wooden door. My heart flip-flopped in my chest. “How’s Chas?”

  “Better. He’ll be back to hundred percent by tomorrow.”

  “He’s lucky,” I said, and Luc looked over at me. “I mean, if he were human—”

  “He wouldn’t have survived the attack,” he finished for me. “And if he wore a Disabler, he wouldn’t have been able to heal himself.”

  I worried my bottom lip, looking down. “Is this … your room?”

  “More like my apartment.”

  His apartment. Right. Not like he just had a bedroom in his parents’ house. For all I knew, he had been hatched from an egg somewhere.

  Luc lifted an arm, brushing his hair from his face. My gaze followed the movement of all his skin and muscles. He dropped his arm as he faced me.

  Our gazes connected, and I found I couldn’t look away. There was something entrancing about his stare, and for a long moment neither of us spoke. A weird edginess surfaced, the same I felt when I’d been here on Saturday, and it seeped into the hall and settled over my skin like smoke. It was like being near an electric storm. I half expected the overhead lights to dim or explode.

  He lowered his gaze, breaking the connection. His voice was low. “I’m glad you came.”

  I blinked. “You are?”

  A moment passed. Dark, impossibly thick lashes lifted. Amethyst eyes latched on to my eyes once more. “Yeah. I didn’t think you would.”

  I crossed my arms and shifted my weight from one foot to the next. “Would you blame me if I hadn’t?”

  “No.” A wry grin formed.

  Warmth hit my cheeks. “You were right earlier. I’m not even sure why I’m here.”

  The grin spread as he turned, pressing his finger against a pad. Fingerprint read and processed, the lock unclicked. High tech right there. “I know why.”

  My stomach tumbled a little. “Why?”

  Luc opened the door. “Because I’m going to tell you a story.”

  16

  A story?

  That was not what I’d come here for. I wanted to know what he knew about my mom—about what secrets she could possibly be keeping. But the moment I stepped inside the slightly chilly room and Luc flipped on an overhead light, I wasn’t thinking about what he could know.

  This was not the kind of dingy apartment I was expecting.

  My wide gaze traveled across the long length of the room. With the exception of two doors, which I guessed led to a bathroom and maybe a closet, the large space was entirely open. There was a huge living room with one of those deep moon-pit-style couches seated in front of shuttered, floor-length windows. A massive TV sat across from it, perched on a metal-and-glass stand. Floors were hardwood throughout, and flowed into a bedroom. The bed—oh my—the bed was on a raised platform. Two long wooden dressers butted up one side of the room, next to a clean desk. Only a laptop sat on the surface.

  Looking around, I saw nothing personal. No pictures. No posters. The walls were all bare. Luc brushed past me as I stepped in farther and spied a guitar in the corner by the TV.

  Luc played the guitar?

  I peeked at him. He was walking into the kitchen area, one long-fingered hand trailing over what appeared to be a slab of slate countertop. Did he play the guitar shirtless?

  I rolled my eyes. I did not need to know the answer to that question. “This is your place?”

  “Yep.” He walked to a stainless-steel fridge.

  I shook my head. “How is that possible? How do you own this—own the club? You’re only eighteen and I didn’t think Luxen could own property?”

  “They can’t, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t found a way around those laws. My name isn’t on any documentation, but all of this is mine.”

  “You mean it belonged to your parents?”

  He laughed under his breath. “I don’t have parents.”

  I frowned. Luxen totally had parents, but then I figured out what that must’ve meant. Luc’s parents were dead, either before the invasion or during. Maybe they had—

  “They didn’t leave me money, either,” he cut in, and my eyes narrowed. “I knew a guy once who had been really good with money. His name was Paris. Learned a lot from him.”

  Paris? What an odd name. Sounded familiar. Wait. That was a real person in history, right? “Where is Paris now?”

  “Dead.”

  “Oh. I’m … I’m sorry.”

  His back was stiff as he lifted a hand, thrusting his fingers through his hair. “Do you know? Wait. Of course you don’t.” He laughed, dropping his hand as he twisted. “Paris was like a father to me. He was a good man, and I … I got him killed. That’s not an exaggeration. I involved him in something—something reckless, before the invasion, and he died for it.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  “I’ll get back to that part. You want to know why I keep saying I’m not a Luxen? It’s because I’m not.”

  I cocked my head to the side and folded my arms. “Why do you keep saying that?”

  “Because it’s the truth.” He faced me, and I sort of wished he’d kept his back to me. “I’m an Origin.”

  I blinked once and then twice. “You’re a what?”

  One side of his lips kicked up. “An Origin. The offspring of a Luxen and a mutated human.”

  Several moments passed as I stared at him. “A mutated human?” A hoarse laugh escaped me. “You know what, I think I just need to find
Kent and—Holy crap.”

  Luc was suddenly right there, towering over me. He wasn’t touching me, but he was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his bare skin. “I have no reason to lie to you. None. You need to understand that I have absolutely nothing to gain.” His gaze met mine. “And everything to lose by telling you what the vast majority of the world doesn’t know.”

  I swallowed as I held his stare. “What do you have to lose?”

  A long moment passed before he answered. “Everything.”

  My heart lurched in my chest. “Then why would you risk everything by telling me anything?”

  “Good question.” His head tilted slightly. “But you want to the truth and I’m feeling chatty. The question is: Are you willing to listen?”

  Part of me wanted to find my bag and get the hell out of here, but I did want the truth and I could decide when this was all over if he was lying or not. I nodded. “I’m willing to listen.”

  “Perfect.” He turned, and in a blink of an eye, he was in front of the fridge, door open. He grabbed two Cokes. “There’s a lot the public doesn’t know.”

  Our fingers brushed as I took the Coke he offered me. I thought about what my mom had said about the public not knowing everything. My grip on the can tightened. “Does it have to do with the group my father worked in? The Daedalus?”

  A wry twist of his lips appeared as he nodded. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

  Exhaling roughly, I looked around and decided the couch was the safest place. I walked over and sat on the edge. It was a wide and deep couch, and if I scooted all the way back, I’d have to roll out of it.

  “Your mother told you that the Luxen had been here for a while, right? And that the Daedalus worked on assimilating them into society, hiding them. That’s not all they did.” Luc strode past me, placing his unopened can on the end table. “You see, the Luxen are hard to kill, something the world learned during the invasion.”

  Shivering, I twisted and watched him.

  “It’s not just because they’re powerful, able to tap into what they call the Source and utilize it as a weapon.” Luc stopped by a dresser, yanking a drawer open. “It’s also because they can use it to heal themselves, which is what Chas did when he returned to his true form. But the really interesting thing is what they can do to humans with that power.”

  “Kill them?” I asked, popping open the can.

  He chuckled as he pulled out a long-sleeve black shirt. Thank God. “They can heal humans.”

  My hand jerked, and carbonated goodness seeped over my fingers. “What?”

  As he pulled a shirt over his head, I looked away before I got caught up in watching all those muscles doing weird and interesting things. “Luxen can heal anything from minor scrapes to near-fatal gunshot wounds. Of course, they have to want to do that, and most never did before the invasion, because their way of life—their safety—harbored on the fact that humans didn’t know they existed. Running around and healing people with their hands is going to draw attention. People who did know the truth ended up disappearing. Even now. People who know the truth go missing. The truth is dangerous.”

  A shudder worked its way through me. And now I was going to know the truth.

  Tugging the hem of his shirt down, he faced me. The shirt only helped a little. “And healing humans can have strange side effects. If they healed a human multiple times or if it was a massive job, like legit saving someone’s life, it could change the human.”

  I took a sip of soda as Luc made his way back to the couch. “Mutate them?”

  “Yep.” He sat down next to me. “In some cases, not all, the human would take on some of the Luxen’s characteristics, able to use the Source. They would be stronger and they wouldn’t get sick.”

  I mouthed that word. Hybrid. It sounded like something straight out of a science-fiction novel. “But those hybrids are still … human, right?”

  “Yes? No?” He shrugged. “I guess that’s up for debate, but what isn’t is that everything changed once the Daedalus realized the Luxen didn’t get sick and that they could heal humans. Groups like the Daedalus started out with the best of intentions. They studied the Luxen, seeing if they could use their genetics to cure human diseases, everything from”—exhaling roughly, he looked away—“the common cold to certain cancers. The Daedalus knew the key to eradicating diseases was in Luxen DNA. They developed treatments and serums derived from Luxen DNA. Some of them worked.” Another terse pause. “Some of them didn’t.”

  Stunned, I stayed quiet and listened.

  “It blew the door off what was possible when they learned that the Luxen could mutate humans, turning that human into a hybrid of sorts.

  “Sometimes the human wouldn’t mutate. They’d become normal again. Other times they … sort of self-destructed. There’s some … mysticism involved in the mutation of a human, so the Daedalus studied that, coming up with treatments to insure that the mutations took hold. The Daedalus was dedicated to improving human life. They were doing some good. For a while.”

  I had a feeling things were going to take a sharp turn.

  “Studies turned into experiments, the kind that violated probably every level of ethics that ever existed. It didn’t take long for them to realize that a Luxen could breed with a human he’d mutated, producing children that were in many ways more powerful than a Luxen.” He paused. “And the Daedalus experimented on them—many generations of those children. Keeping some around. Destroying others who didn’t meet their expectations.”

  Revulsion rolled through me as I leaned forward, placing my can on the floor. “Oh my God.”

  “Many of those children never met their parents.” Luc’s features sharpened like a blade. “Then … the Daedalus was partnered with the Defense Department. It became more about creating soldiers than about curing diseases. Entire generations of those children grew up in labs and hidden facilities. Some never stepping outside. Many died in the same twelve-by-twelve room they were raised in. Others were planted into the military, government positions—billion-dollar companies.”

  My jaw was practically in my lap. This was … This was wow.

  He put his hand on the couch beside my thigh and leaned in. “Whatever passion some of those doctors had in the beginning became twisted.” Slowly, he lifted his gaze to mine, and I sucked in an unsteady breath. “Especially when they started forcing the breeding.”

  Sick to my stomach, I wanted to look away from Luc, but it felt like that was like looking away from the truth, from what I knew he was going to say.

  Luc lifted his arm and slowly began rolling the sleeve of his shirt up, exposing a powerful forearm. He looked over his shoulder, raising his other hand. Something flew off the kitchen countertop and landed in his hand. I realized it was a knife, a very sharp one.

  I tensed.

  “When you cut a Luxen, they will heal in a couple of minutes, sometimes longer, depending on how deep.” The sharp point hovered over his taut skin. “When you cut a hybrid, they, too, will heal. Not as fast, but definitely quicker than a human.”

  I clasped my hands together. “Luc—”

  Too late.

  Pressing down, he dragged the knife over his skin, slicing deep. Bluish-red blood beaded on his flesh. Before I could launch myself off the couch to grab towels, the skin closed over the wound, sealing it up.

  “Holy crap.” No blood. No cut. It was like he hadn’t just sliced his skin open. My gaze shot to his.

  “But a child of a Luxen and a hybrid—an Origin—heals immediately.”

  Understanding flared to life as I glanced down at his arm and then back to his striking face. “You … You’re one of those kids?”

  He nodded and then leaned to the side, placing the knife on the end table. “Watch.”

  I was so watching.

  A faint white glow appeared over his pointer finger. Leaning away, my eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Don’t—”

  “It’s okay.”
The light washed over his hand, licking down his arm. “Origins aren’t transparent.…” He grinned. “Like jellyfish.”

  I could see that. His arm was fully formed underneath the intense light.

  “Origins’ eyes are like mine. Same color. Same kind of pupils.”

  I forced my gaze to his. Who had eyes like his? The guy I’d seen with Chas. “Archer. He’s an Origin?”

  As Luc nodded, the glow warmed his features like he was leaning over a candle. That explained the weirdness of his pupils, something I’d never seen on a Luxen. “There used to be more Origins. There aren’t … many left.”

  I bit down on my lip. “What happened to them?”

  Luc didn’t answer for a long moment. “That’s another story for another day.”

  My gaze flicked up his face and then back to the whitish glow humming over his hand. Some bizarre, innate urge to touch him—the light—woke up inside me.

  “You can,” he said, voice low and deep. “You can touch it. You won’t be hurt.”

  My heart skipped a beat as I lifted my hand. “Can … can Origins read minds?”

  A secretive smile played over his lips. “Some of us can.”

  Oh hell no. I froze. “Can you?”

  “I can.”

  I started to draw back. I’d been right all along. Good Lord, the kind of stuff I thought around him? The bad? The really bad? The really embarrassing?

  “I try not to do it. Like, I don’t go peeping in people’s thoughts. Sometimes I can’t help it, especially when a person is broadcasting loudly.” His gaze met mine. “You are … quiet most of the time. I’ve only picked up a few things unintentionally. Just parts of thoughts.”

  “Why would I believe you’re not reading my mind on purpose?” If I had that ability, I’d totally be doing it every five seconds.

  The light around his hand pulsed. “Because if I did read your mind, I probably wouldn’t like what I found.”

  Startled by his blunt honesty, I was at a loss for words. Part of me wanted to apologize.

  “Touch the light,” he coaxed. “I know you want to. And it’s not from reading your mind. It’s written all over your face.”