The Burning Shadow (Origin Series)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Luc sat, tugging me down with him in the plush grass. From where we were, we overlooked the river cutting through the valley. The hand he held trembled in his tight grasp. “You remember?” he asked, his voice rough as if his throat were thick.

  I rubbed my palm over my leg, nodding as I swallowed hard. “I remember you running up the steps, and it was like we’d done that so many times before and I could never catch you, but then I did. You…” I squeezed my eyes tight and then reopened them. “You let me catch you, and I kissed you. I stretched up, threw my arms around you, and kissed you. Is it real? The memory?”

  His striking features were pale as his hand spasmed around mine. “It’s real.”

  The next breath I took got stuck as I curled my fingers around his. I closed my eyes again, seeing him as a boy—his features the same but softer and younger, his body familiar but thinner. I inhaled sharply as a cool breeze lifted my hair, tossing it over my face.

  “It was right after the invasion and things had begun to calm down. We came back to see if anything here had been impacted, and it was like the only place for miles around that had been untouched.”

  “That’s strange.”

  “It was, but the day we came here … it was a good day. You were feeling good.” He let go of my hand, and when I opened my eyes, he was tugging the beanie off his head. “It was after you were given the—”

  “Prometheus serum?” I said, and those wide, questioning eyes shot to mine. “Daemon told me about it.”

  Luc stared at me for a long moment. Tension crept around his mouth, and then he exhaled heavily. “The Prometheus serum seemed to work for a few days. You had more energy. You weren’t nauseous at all. You could eat. And all those goddamn bruises that covered you had started to fade. I was still cautious. Didn’t want you out running around, but you wanted to come up here, and who was I to deny you?”

  Luc stared out over the valley. “Sometimes I wonder if you knew the serum hadn’t worked beyond giving you a respite from the disease. Looking back, I think you did.” Lifting his hands, he scrunched his fingers through his hair. “Anyway, that was the day you kissed me, and damn, it takes a lot to catch me off guard, but you’d managed to do just that. I had … these feelings for you. I didn’t like them at first. I didn’t even understand them.” His fingers curled around the short strands of hair. “And I’d always thought you saw me as a brother. That’s all I could let myself think. I was young. You were even younger.”

  I didn’t know how anyone could look at Luc as only a brother other than someone who was legit his sibling, but I kept that to myself.

  “But you kissed me and…” He dropped his hands as he tilted his face to the sun, eyes closed. “It broke me in a way I didn’t even know you could be broken.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” I felt like I needed to apologize.

  “It was…” He lifted his hands, shaking his head. “It wasn’t bad, Evie. Not at all.” A quick smile appeared and then disappeared. “Do you remember what you said to me afterward, while I was staring at you like an idiot?”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

  “Do you remember anything else?”

  “No. Just that, but as soon as I saw the sign for the town, I felt weird. I told you that.” I threaded my fingers through the grass. “Is that why you brought me here? To see if I’d remember anything?”

  “Yes? No? I don’t know. Mainly, I brought you here because it was someplace I knew you used to love. I’ve been wondering if you’d still feel the same.”

  Taking in the ancient trees and the valleys and rivers below, I could see why I’d loved this place. There was a calming effect to it, being close to civilization and yet somehow surrounded by nature and rich history. “I think I could grow to love it again.”

  He was silent and then asked, “Do you want to stay or leave?”

  I knew if I said I wanted to leave, he would be standing faster than I could finish the sentence, but I didn’t want to leave. “Not yet.”

  “Okay.” His throat worked on a swallow.

  Companionable silence fell between us as I watched the limbs move in the wind, shaking loose dying leaves and sending them fluttering to the ground. The scent of river and soil surrounded us, and if it hadn’t been for the million steps we climbed to get here, I would’ve raced back to my car for my camera.

  “What did I say to you?” I asked, remembering what he’d said. “After I kissed you?”

  Luc was quiet for a long moment. “You said, ‘Don’t forget this.’”

  I stilled. God. Maybe I had known that the serum hadn’t worked, because that was a hell of a thing to say.

  “How ironic is that?” He chuckled, but it was without any lightness. “Like I would ever be able to forget what it felt like for your lips to touch mine. Like I could ever forget you.”

  “It was me who forgot.” Tears pricked my eyes as I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. He couldn’t forget me, and I’d forgotten him. “I’m sorry.”

  His gaze shot to mine. “For what?”

  “I don’t know.” I lifted a shoulder and rested my cheek on my knees. “For all of this? Because it seems easier to not have these memories.”

  “No. Not at all.” Luc leaned over, bringing his face close to mine. “I cherish every single memory I have of us. Even the sad ones. I wouldn’t trade a second of them for anything, because I had my memories and you had a second chance. You lived.”

  More tears clogged my throat, and I closed my eyes. “And you lost me,” I whispered. “I lost you.”

  “Did we lose each other?” he asked, and then I felt his fingers on my cheeks, chasing a tear that had sneaked free. “You and I are here right now, aren’t we? Somehow, you found me, and I’m not someone who believes in happenstance. I don’t think it was a fluke that you walked into Foretoken with Heidi. I think it was something that was bound to happen and I…”

  I opened my eyes, finding his. “What?”

  “I was just waiting.”

  * * *

  “It really is a pet rock.” Heidi was staring at Diesel, who now rested in a nice little bed of cotton and rolled socks on top of my nightstand. “Holy crap.”

  It was after school the following day, and it had been a while since the three of us just hung out. Zoe was in the computer chair I never used, toeing herself around my bedroom, and Heidi and I sprawled along my bed.

  “I don’t know if that’s the strangest thing I’ve seen in a while or the most amazing thing.” Heidi’s chin was propped up on her fist, and her crimson-colored hair was pulled up in a high, messy topknot. “I think pet rocks stopped being a thing before we were born, but I think it’s the most amazing thing.”

  “It is.” I smiled into my comforter. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed so loud.”

  Zoe shook her head as she toed herself closer. “Part of me was hoping it was, like, a snake or something.”

  My eyes widened. “I do not do scales of any sort.”

  “I know. Then I could’ve had it.” She grinned at me. “By the way, did you get your Halloween costume?” she asked Heidi.

  She nodded. “Sure did.”

  “What are you dressing up as?” I asked.

  “Rainbow Brite,” she answered, and I laughed. “Didn’t see that coming, did you?”

  “Actually, I kind of already think of you as Rainbow Brite, so…” I looked over at Zoe. “What about you?”

  “I think I’m going as Wonder Woman.” Her arms flopped over the sides of the chair. “Or maybe Daenerys? Not sure. You?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Heidi’s brows knitted. “You’re coming to Foretoken with us, right? I figured your anti-Foretoken oath has officially been broken.”

  “Yeah, it has, and I’m going, but I haven’t really thought about it. I’ll figure something out. I have time.” Sitting up, I glanced at the television and saw the breaking news banner along the bottom of the screen
. “Something is going on.”

  Heidi followed my gaze as I leaned over her, but the remote was still too far away. “What’s going on in Kansas City?”

  Zoe lifted her hand, and the remote flew from the edge of the bed to her hand. I shot her a jealous glare as she turned the volume up.

  A male reporter was on the screen, his brown hair cropped close to his skull. I vaguely recognized him. “We’ve just received a statement from officials concerning the alarming activity at the apartment complex in Kansas City. Jill, can you update us?”

  A dual screen appeared, revealing a dark-skinned woman in a pale pink turtleneck. She was standing across the street from a several-story, gray brick building that was cordoned off by yellow tape and partially blocked by ambulances and fire trucks. “Yes, Allan, we’ve just received word from Sergeant Kavinsky that this apartment complex on Broadway is under a complete quarantine at this time. There’s been no official statement, but we do know that the situation began last night when a coworker of one of the tenants came to the building to check on an employee of”—she glanced down at something she held in her hand, off-screen—“a local advertising and marketing firm who had missed work both Thursday and Friday and had no contact with the employers. It was this coworker who discovered several severely ill individuals inside the complex—all of whom, we are told, are now deceased.”

  “Yikes,” I whispered as Heidi sat up and leaned into me.

  “We have also been told that the coworker has been quarantined, as there are fears of exposure to whatever has sickened and perhaps killed the tenants of this building,” Jill continued. “This apartment complex has fifteen units, and from what we have been able to gather, all tenants in the complex are accounted for inside.” She turned her body, angling slightly toward the building. “We have also exclusively learned that one of the deceased tenants of this building, a Lesa Rodrigues, worked at a Luxen outreach facility in Kansas City. Now, we contacted this group and are currently waiting for a response, but this situation appears to be very reminiscent of the event in late September at a home outside of Boulder, Colorado, where a family of five were found dead, their bodies showing signs of a massive, destructive infection of some sort. The father of that family, a Mr. Jerome Dickinson, was a property manager at a Luxen subdivision.”

  The camera zoomed out, capturing the activity on the sidewalk below the apartment. There were several people in white biohazard suits disappearing behind one of the fire trucks as the reporter continued to speak.

  “Sergeant Kavinsky has said that they do not believe that there is any threat to the community at this time; however, they are asking that people try to stay away from the apartment complex and the Luxen outreach facility on Armour Street. We have received word that the facility is also currently being quarantined as a preventive measure until they can determine if there is any risk to the public. The nearby buildings here, which house many businesses, will also be closed until further notice.” She faced the camera once more. “Now, a source close to this investigation who has seen the bodies of the deceased is saying that the condition of the remains are nearly identical to those in Colorado, leading this person to believe that the individuals in this complex, like the family in Boulder, have died of some sort of virus or infection. This source is saying that even though authorities are not publicly stating this yet, it is believed that the infection occurred after close contact with a Luxen.”

  Oh no.

  Heidi stiffened against me, and my stomach sank all the way to the floor. A massive, destructive infection like … like possibly a flu? Like the kind of flu that killed Ryan?

  “That’s bullshit,” Zoe spat.

  “If you remember, the cause of death for the family in Boulder is believed to be partially from a hemorrhagic-type fever and a cytokine storm—the body’s overwhelming reaction to an infection. Sometimes you will see that in severe flu cases or with other viruses, but officials investigating the Boulder family have stated that while they believe that was an isolated case, whatever had sickened and killed the family has not been seen before.”

  The male reporter suddenly returned to the side of the screen, replacing the image of the apartment building. “And now we have an entire building quarantined with possibly the same sickness, hundreds of miles away.”

  Jill nodded. “It hasn’t been confirmed, but our sources suspect that it is the same illness that struck down the family in Boulder.”

  The male journalist’s gaze turned somber. “With the increasing acts of violence and terror in cities all across the nation, this surely will help President McHugh’s push to repeal the Twenty-eighth Amendment and increases the likelihood of legislation such as the Luxen Act and reinstatement of the Patriot Act, which is legislation backed by President McHugh, being passed.”

  Jill agreed while I stared at the screen.

  Beside me, Heidi swallowed thickly. “Do you think it’s possible that whatever Ryan had is what these people died of?”

  “I don’t know,” I murmured. “They said that whatever these people had wasn’t a threat to the community, and we’re like a thousand miles from there, but…”

  “But you guys heard what I heard, right?” Zoe asked, turning to us. “Sounds like they’re gearing up to blame the Luxen for whatever made these people sick.”

  * * *

  “Mom!” I yelled the moment I heard her come home that night, close to midnight, my feet thumping off the steps as I headed downstairs and into the foyer. There was one person I knew who was well familiar with viruses and biological gross stuff that could be passed from one person to the next. Mom. She was a fountain of knowledge since she worked at the United States Army Medical Research and Material Compound at Fort Detrick in Frederick.

  I didn’t know how she could still work for a government that had operated and sanctioned the actions of the Daedalus, but then again, there were many in the government who were fighting for the Luxen, and I figured it was safe to assume that there were also many like Mom, Luxen who were hidden in plain sight. And after everything I’d experienced and seen, I knew you couldn’t make any changes if you weren’t in the thick of it. Sitting by the sidelines or hiding only aided the opposition.

  “In the kitchen,” came the response.

  A candle was burning somewhere, filling the open space with the scent of pumpkin and caramel. I hurried through the living room, where everything was neat and had a place, past the dining room table that had to be replaced after the showdown with Micah, and found her standing at the kitchen island, placing her briefcase and purse on it.

  Her hair was smoothed back into a ponytail, and there wasn’t a single strand out of place. I didn’t need a mirror to know that mine was gnarled and resembled a bale of hay at the moment. There was always this inherent grace and elegance about Mom and the way she moved, and I just sounded like a herd of horses clopping down the steps.

  She lowered her keys. “Should I be worried that you just ran down the stairs at breakneck speed?”

  “Not exactly.” I hopped onto the stool. “I have a question for you.”

  “I might have an answer.” Mom walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, sitting it on a gold-colored coaster. It was new. She had a habit of collecting coasters like some people collected expensive purses or shoes.

  “Can humans get sick from a Luxen? Catch something like a cold or a flu?”

  Mom stared at me for a moment. “You’ve seen the news.”

  “Yes.” I tipped toward her, resting my feet on the lower bar of the stool. “A whole apartment building in Kansas City has been quarantined, and it seems like everyone is sick or dead inside. The reporters are talking like it’s some kind of infection passed from Luxen to humans, but—”

  “Luxen cannot make humans sick, Evie.” Reaching up, she placed two fingers to her temples as if she had a sudden headache. “There is no known cross-species disease. Luxen—we—don’t even get sick, not like humans.” She briefly closed her eye
s. “If those poor people are sick from some kind of virus or infection, it is not from Luxen. If anyone is saying that, it’s an unsubstantiated opinion not remotely based in the science or any of the extensive research that has been done.”

  That’s what the girls and I thought. “Then why would they put that out there like that? You know how people believe whatever they hear or see. They read a stupid post on Facebook about killer spiders hiding under toilet seats, and even though that makes no sense, they believe it and share it five million times. People are going to believe this.”

  Mom shook her head as she lowered her hand to the gray granite island top. “The idea of Luxen carrying some kind of unknown virus that can infect humans is far more salacious than carbon monoxide poisoning or a virus like influenza, which is probably the actual source of these illnesses. After all, it is flu season.”

  “They’re saying that Ryan—that boy I told you about—died of the flu. I know you said that the flu can kill, but is it really that deadly? And could it be the same virus that killed the people in Kansas City and Boulder?”

  “I think it’s unlikely that it’s the same strain, but every year, there are cases of H1N1 and other strains that are quite deadly. Plus, like I told you before, it can be extremely dangerous for those with compromised immune systems. People just don’t report on that kind of stuff, because it’s not going to get the ratings they want.”

  “What those reporters were saying is so incredibly dangerous,” I murmured, turning my gaze to the small window above the sink. “People already…”

  “People already fear us,” she finished for me, her voice so quiet, I had to look at her. “People are already going to assume and think the worst of us, and that is why I must be careful. That is why Luc must be careful.” A chill skated over my skin as my eyes met the exact same shade as mine. Her contacts were a warm brown. “And that’s why you must be careful.”

  7

  “It was my brother’s fault,” Emery said, running a hand over her head, catching the shoulder-length, raven-black strands in her fingers. Her hair was buzzed close to the skull on one side, and I was this close to totally copying her hairstyle. “I love Shia and miss him every day, but it was his fault.”