The Darkest Star

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “Please,” she said again, her eyes glistening. “Please just sit down and we will talk. We will—”

  “No.”

  She took a step toward.

  “Don’t.” My voice cracked. “Don’t come near me.”

  She stopped.

  My entire body trembled. “Just stay away from me.”

  I pulled the door open, stepped out, and smacked the button on the side of the wall. The garage door groaned open as I yanked the car door and tossed my bag onto the passenger seat. Muted daylight poured into the garage as I rounded the front of the car—of the Lexus that had belonged to Dad.

  But he wasn’t my dad.

  Because if Mom wasn’t my mom, then he wasn’t my dad.…

  But she was the only mom I knew, and I loved her. I knew her.

  My hands were shaking as I climbed into the car. I started it as the garage door swung open. Mom stood there, calling my name, but I gunned the car in reverse. Tires squealed as I backed out of the driveway. I made it to the end of the driveway when movement out of the corner of my eyes caught my attention.

  I slammed on the brakes and then looked to my left. “What the hell?”

  A man strode across my front yard, a tall dark-haired one I recognized immediately. Daemon. What was he doing here? My gaze flew to the open garage and I saw Mom.

  Daemon appeared at my driver’s door, tapping on the window. I hadn’t even seen him move. He was in the yard and then right there.

  In a state of stunned disbelief, I rolled down the window.

  He bent over, placing his hands on the open window. “Where you heading to? I doubt it’s school.”

  I blinked once and then twice. Then it hit me. Daemon was here because of Luc, because of that Origin. Holy crap, how long had he been out here? I clenched the steering wheel as I stared into eyes that were impossibly green.

  Mom was saying something as she walked forward, but I couldn’t look away from the Luxen. I remembered the look on his face when he first saw me at the club. I remembered Luc quickly shutting him up, but Daemon had looked at me with surprise. I’d chalked it up to me being a human.…

  “Do you know who I am?” My voice was hoarse, unfamiliar to my own ears.

  An easy smile formed on his lips. “Why don’t you turn the car off and step out? Go inside. Okay?”

  “What is my name?” I asked, my knuckles aching from how tightly I was clenching the steering wheel.

  Something flickered over his face. “Let’s head inside. You shouldn’t—”

  “What is my name?” I shouted, my voice giving out on the last word.

  “Hell,” he muttered, glancing toward the garage. “Call Luc.”

  My stomach plummeted all the way to my toes. I didn’t want them to call Luc. I didn’t want them to do anything.

  Pulling my foot off the brakes, I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal. Daemon cursed as he jerked back. The car flew out into the street, fishtailing. With my heart racing, I shoved the gear into drive and floored it. Wind and rain poured in through the open window as I sped through the subdivision.

  None of this was true. It was too unbelievable to believe, too out there to even consider.

  But Mom was a Luxen.

  And she said I was that girl—that girl who Luc claimed had been his only true friend. The girl he’d admitted some ten hours ago he was still in love with.

  That was the deal. I stayed away if you stayed away.

  No.

  No way.

  I wasn’t her.

  My name was Evie.

  That was who I was.

  I passed the entrance as I dragged in deep, even breaths, hitting the open stretch of road.

  My name is Evelyn Dasher.

  Tears blurred my vision as I eased off the gas. My mother’s name is Sylvia Dasher. My father—

  Daemon suddenly appeared in the center of the road, several yards away. Screaming, I slammed on the brakes. The wheels lost traction on the rain-slick asphalt. The car spun out, and by some act of God, I didn’t lose control. The Lexus coasted to a stop.

  Dragging in deep, uneven breaths, I watched Daemon start toward me. My hands slipped off the steering wheel as emotion boiled up from deep within, like a shaken soda bottle. I smacked my hands over my face and opened my mouth to scream, but there was no sound. Nothing came out. I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel, my fingers curling into my skin. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real. I dropped my hands, clutching my knees as my stomach roiled.

  I actually might get sick.

  “That was fun,” Daemon said, and then the door opened on its own accord. “But I need you to get out of the car.”

  Slowly, I lifted my head and numbly unhooked my seat belt. I stood on legs I couldn’t feel as rain pelted me in the face.

  “Come on.” His voice was softer, and so was the sudden grip on my arm. He walked me around to the passenger side. “My job was to make sure you got to school safely. Been a while since I played bodyguard. Not doing a great job at it.”

  I got in the car. Before I could blink, Daemon was in the driver’s seat, closing the door and rolling up the window. He shoved his hair, wet from the rain, back from his face.

  My breath caught. “I don’t want to go back there.”

  “If you don’t go back there, then you’re going to Luc.” He looked over at me. “Those are the two choices.”

  I wanted a third choice—actually, I did want to see Luc. “The club.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” The car started moving and he looked over at me. “Seat belt. The last thing I need right now is Luc losing his mind if you end up going through a window or something.”

  “You stepped out in front of the car,” I reminded him as I buckled up. “That could’ve caused an accident.”

  “I made sure it didn’t,” he replied.

  Go figure. It hadn’t been my driving skills that had prevented a wreck. I looked out the window, not really seeing anything. Maybe that woman back there wasn’t my mom. Maybe a Luxen had assimilated her and she was pretending to be my mom.

  Stop.

  That was my mom. It sounded like her—smelled like her and talked like her. As much as I wanted to believe that wasn’t her, it was. So did that mean what she claimed was true? That I wasn’t Evelyn? That I was this other girl? That everything I’d known and believed … since, well, since I could remember, was a lie?

  “You doing okay over there?” Daemon asked.

  I closed my eyes against the burn. “Did you … did you know me before you saw me in the club?”

  There was a long pause, so long that I didn’t think Daemon was going to answer. And when he did, I wished he hadn’t. “Yeah, I knew you.”

  * * *

  I left Daemon in the hallway downstairs and climbed the six damn flights of steps. I went to Luc’s door, closed my hand, and beat my fist off it like I was the police about to serve a warrant.

  The door swung open and there was Luc. Hair damp like he’d just gotten out of the shower and still … painfully beautiful to look at.

  Surprise washed over Luc’s face as he stepped back, letting me inside the apartment. He closed the door behind him.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at school?” He’d changed from last night. Gone was the Henley, and in its place was a black shirt. I was guessing Mom hadn’t been able to get ahold of him. “Did something happen?”

  I was never quite worthy of her—of her friendship, her acceptance and loyalty.…

  Seeing him after what I’d learned this morning was like being smacked in the face and told it was a kiss. If what I had been told was true, he had been.… he had been—God, I didn’t even know. But it was wrong. It was beyond wrong.

  I’d asked Luc about Nadia last night, if he still loved her, and he’d said—

  He’d said, “With every breath I take.”

  I didn’t stop to think. I only acted.

  My hand shot out and my palm smacked across h
is cheek with stinging force. His head snapped to the side and then swung back. Luc’s pupils widened as horror gripped me.

  I’d hit him.

  I’d never hit anyone in my life.

  And I didn’t even feel bad about it.

  Red blossomed along his cheek. “Was that for last night? Because I didn’t leave before your mom got home?” He paused, eyes flashing. “Or was it because you lay there and pretended to be asleep while you wished I’d stayed?”

  My hand cocked back again, but Luc was prepared this time. He caught my wrist and hauled me forward. Air pushed out of my lungs at the chest-to-chest contact.

  “Hitting is not nice,” he said, his voice steely. “Pretty sure they taught that in kindergarten, Evie.”

  “Evie?” I laughed, and it sounded even more wrong. Worse than brittle. It sounded near hysterical.

  His brows knitted and then smoothed out as understanding seeped in. His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak as he dropped my wrist as if my skin burned his.

  Words festered and finally boiled over as I stumbled back a step and kept going, until my back hit the door. “Why didn’t you tell me you saw my m-mom yesterday?” My voice cracked on that one, powerful word. “When you were with me last night, why didn’t you tell me you’d talked to her?”

  He started toward me, his long-legged pace eating up the short distance.

  “Don’t,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t come near me, Luc.”

  He halted, his amethyst eyes wide and endless. “What did she tell you?”

  “Oh, let’s see. She explained that she didn’t give birth to me. Apparently my birth mom died of an overdose? Now, if I was simply adopted, that wouldn’t be a big deal, because a mother isn’t always by blood.” I dragged my hand over my hair, smoothing the strands down. The bun had slipped and was falling free. “But according to her, she’s only been my mom for about four years, and that’s kind of a big deal.”

  Luc’s hands closed at his sides.

  “And you know? I didn’t believe her, because that sounds bananas, but then she turned into a Luxen. Right in front of me.”

  He closed his eyes.

  A knot expanded in my throat and moved to my chest. “But you already knew what she was. Didn’t you?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Didn’t you?” I shouted, hearing my voice snap.

  Lashes lifted. “I knew.”

  “Of course you did. And you know what else she told me this morning? She told me why I didn’t have a trace on me. Because supposedly I was given some kind of weird serum,” I said, swallowing against the knot. “But you know that, too.”

  “Damn her.” Exhaling heavily, Luc walked away from the door and sat on the edge of the couch. “I didn’t know she was going to tell you. If I had, I would’ve been there.”

  Knots formed in my stomach, twisting up my insides. He said that like he meant it, and a distant part of me knew he spoke the truth.

  “Been there for what, Luc? Were you going to be there and hold my hand while she told me that whatever memories I think I have, I don’t? Were you going to share coffee with her while she told me that my name isn’t Evelyn Dasher?”

  He looked like he wanted to get up, but he stayed put. “I would’ve been there to make sure you were okay. Helped you understand who you—”

  “Don’t say I’m not Evelyn. That is who I am.” My voice warbled. “My name is Evie.”

  “I know.” He softened his voice. “You’re Evie.”

  My muscles tensed. “So, let’s say that this isn’t some kind of dream and it’s real. Why didn’t you tell me the truth? You had chances. Especially when you told me about her—about what happened. You could’ve told me then.”

  “I could’ve.” His gaze searched mine. “But would you have believed me? Honestly? If I told you that you were really Nadia Holliday, but your memories were wiped, would you have listened to me or walked away?”

  I inhaled raggedly. Truth was, I wouldn’t have believed him. I was having a hard time believing … Mom. Closing my eyes, I shook my head. “If it’s true, why did you leave me there—leave me with them? I was supposed to be your bestest friend in the whole world. You said you lo—” Unable to finish that, I opened my eyes again. “Why would you leave me with them?”

  His pupils turned white. “I never really left you.”

  26

  Pressure squeezed my chest. Denial was the best defense against the confusion and raw pain springing forth inside me. My mouth moved for a good half a minute without words, and then finally, I said the only thing suitable: “Is this a joke? A really bad joke that—”

  “It’s not a joke.” His voice turned hoarse. “I made a deal with them to save your life. It was the worst and the best decision. Worst because I am incredibly selfish. And best because I had to do something incredibly unselfish.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You don’t remember. I know. But I remember. I remember everything every damn day of my life.”

  I stared at him. “Don’t say that.”

  His eyes burned bright. “Did you come here, hoping I’d lie to you now?” He rose then. “I’m done lying. You want the truth? Here it is. I never stopped thinking about you. I never forgot. I never stopped looking out for you. You forgot me, and that’s okay, because you had no choice, but—”

  “Stop it!” I shouted. “I know who I am. My name is Evie. That has always been my name.”

  Luc shot forward, gripping my shoulders. “Listen to me. You are Evie now, but you’ve only been Evelyn Dasher for about twelve hundred and seventy-eight days and about roughly eight hours, and yeah, I could tell you the seconds if you want to get really detailed.”

  My lips parted.

  “But you were Nadia for nearly thirteen years prior to that.”

  “Stop saying that.” I wiggled my arms free, stepping back. “The memories I have right now aren’t fake.” I curled my hands into fists. “They are real—”

  “You prefer Coke over Pepsi. How do you think I knew to give you one?”

  The image of Mom—of her reaction when I’d asked for a Coke—formed in my thoughts, as did what she’d said earlier. I always drank Pepsi, because … that was what had always been in the house.…

  “That’s the funny thing about what they did to you. They wiped your memories, but there are still these innate personality traits there. There are still parts of you.” He crossed the distance between us. “I know you like horror movies and hate the ones that make you cry.”

  “Congrats, did you look at my Facebook profile?” I snapped.

  Luc grinned, undaunted. “You were always interested in photography, even before. You used to whine until Paris would take you to the Potomac River so you could take pictures.”

  “I don’t even know who Paris is.”

  “You did, though. He was like a father to you.” Luc kept going. “You have the same nervous twitch.”

  I drew back, scowling. “I don’t have a nervous twitch.”

  “Yeah, you do. You rub your hands on your hips and knees when you’re anxious.” He arched a brow. “You’re doing it right now.”

  I pulled my hands off my hips and then folded my arms across my chest.

  “Do you still want me to keep going? You constantly mess with your hair. It’s another thing you do when you’re nervous or don’t know what to do with your hands.” He stepped in, tilting his head to the side. “I know you don’t like pizza.”

  My heart flopped over as I stared at him. “Heidi told you that.”

  “No.” Bending so his cheek brushed mine, he said, “But I’m right, aren’t I?”

  He was, but I couldn’t answer.

  Luc lingered close, too close, his cheek just touching mine. “Here’s something you don’t remember and Sylvia couldn’t have known.” A heartbeat passed. “You were my first kiss.”

  I gasped.

  “Granted, we were kids, so it wasn’t much of a kiss.” He dre
w back, the bridge of his nose dragging over my cheek. “It was my favorite kiss.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut.

  Luc’s voice was low. “And I stayed away like I promised Sylvia, because I knew if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to walk away. I stayed close, but I never went near you. I never went looking for you. You were why I left those Origins with Daemon and them. I couldn’t leave you here by yourself. Not for years,” he continued. “You have always been the only priority to me that mattered.”

  The floor felt like it was shifting under me.

  I remembered moving into the house in Columbia, and I remembered my first sleepover and the first crush I had and those memories—

  Those memories were all wispy and smoky, existing on the fringes of my consciousness, and as I tried to pull them forth, they slipped out of my grasp.

  Had they always been like that?

  Oh my God, I didn’t know, because I never really thought back in detail. I didn’t think beyond the invasion—

  I remembered that, though. I remembered the fear and I remembered the way things were before, but …

  Panic dug in deep, and I sidestepped Luc.

  “You don’t have clear memories because they aren’t real memories,” he said softly. “And you never questioned it, because you had no real reason to.”

  “Stop it,” I hissed, spinning toward him. “Stay out of my head.”

  “Kind of hard to right now.”

  I dragged my hands over my hips and then stopped when he shot me a pointed look. What Luc was saying was too much to believe—having this entire life I couldn’t remember, dying and being given a second identity.

  I lifted my chin. “So I’m your long-lost BFF forever and I was given some kind of super-serum that not only healed me, it wiped my memory and implanted false impressions but somehow doesn’t stop me from breaking out in pimples at least once a month?”

  He frowned. “Well, yeah and no. The fever stole your memories. Not the serum.”

  “But why did you leave me?” I cried out, surprising myself with the rawness behind the question.

  “Do you think I wanted to?” he shouted back, startling me. His features sharpened. “I never trusted Sylvia or Jason and they didn’t trust me, but I … I was desperate, and you had agreed. ‘One more chance.’ That’s what you said to me, because I’d already given you all these other serums and they didn’t work. Then you made me promise to let it go if it didn’t work. You made me promise to let you go so the end would be peaceful.” His voice caught, broke a little. “And I agreed.”