The Burning Shadow (Origin Series)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  I thought about what Emery and Kent had said. “She said something was done to her.”

  His eyes met mine. “What?”

  No way.

  Luc hadn’t heard her, either?

  I glanced at Dawson, and he looked as if he didn’t know what I was talking about either. “I thought I heard her say something.”

  “Say what?” His fingers dragged over the nape of my neck.

  “I thought she said, ‘They did something to me,’ but you all didn’t hear her?”

  Dawson shook his head.

  Luc’s gaze searched mine intently. “No, Peaches. We didn’t hear that.”

  What the hell? Had I imagined that? My shoulders slumped. Maybe it was an auditory hallucination? Or I thought the sounds she was making were words? The mind could do that, take sounds and turn them into something familiar.

  Luc still watched me, brows pinched.

  “You know, it kind of reminded me a little bit of the people that the Daedalus mutated with those newer serums.” Dawson’s jaw worked as he stared at the floor. “I saw enough of it with my own eyes while I was … with them.”

  Air lodged in my throat. Dawson had been with the Daedalus at some point? I remembered what Luc had said about the Luxen that had been held by the Daedalus and all the terrible things the organization had forced them to take part in. Unspeakable things.

  “It’s like what some of those subjects went through, but not. The ones I saw were a lot … bloodier.” Dawson exhaled heavily. “And the Daedalus is no more, so it can’t be that.”

  “But that doesn’t mean that someone didn’t get their hands on leftover serums or injections, just like we already suspected.” Luc now had my hair between his thumb and forefinger. No one in the room could see it, but it felt like everyone knew because I was so hyperaware of what he was doing. There was something soothing about his touch and the gentle tug on my scalp every time he ran his thumb over the strands of hair. “It’s possible that’s what happened to her.”

  “Or maybe—God, I can’t believe I’m saying this—but maybe it is some kind of sickness,” Emery said, exhaling heavily. “We don’t think there’s anything we can pass to humans, but things evolve, right? Or maybe it’s something human we haven’t seen yet. You all saw the news about the people that got sick with something that resembled the flu, right? Killed them quickly and supposedly had symptoms that none of the doctors had seen before. You guys had someone already die at the school, and then the other guy got sick.”

  “Can we all just acknowledge that a flu doesn’t do that?” Kent was still perched on the arm of the couch. “Unless it’s, you guessed it, a zombie flu.”

  Dawson cracked a grin.

  “She levitated,” Luc reminded Emery. “Straight up left the floor. That’s more supernatural than viral.”

  Emery exhaled heavily. “We need to find her, because that’s the only way we’re going to figure this out.”

  Actually, I had an idea. A good one. A smart one. A helpful one.

  Excitement thrummed through me. For once, I could actually be useful when it came to their problems instead of being a part of their problem. “I can talk to, um, my mom. I mean, if anyone knows anything about the Dae—”

  “No,” Luc cut me off. “Absolutely not.”

  I stiffened. “Why not?”

  His eyes flicked to mine, and those jewel-tone eyes were as hard as granite. “I don’t want you discussing anything you see here with Sylvia Dasher.”

  My skin prickled like an army of fire ants had descended on me. “That makes no sense. She already knows about Ryan and Coop, and if anyone knows—”

  “Wait.” Dawson pushed off the wall, arms unfolding as he stared at me, his eyes slightly wide. “You’re the daughter of the Dashers? I thought you were—”

  “Kind of,” I said. “She’s kind of my mom.”

  A whitish glow began to surround Dawson’s body as he moved toward me. The center of his pupils turned white, encompassing the irises until his eyes shone like hard diamonds.

  I didn’t see or feel Luc move.

  One moment he was lounging next to me, and a heartbeat later, he was directly in front of Dawson, eye to eye. “You need to calm down,” Luc said, his voice as soft as it had been when he’d spoken to Sarah. “Evie has nothing to do with the Daedalus.”

  Dawson didn’t respond, but Emery had removed her arm from Heidi, her entire body tensed and ready. Meanwhile, Kent looked like he was missing a bucket of popcorn to go along with what he obviously found entertaining.

  The whitish glow pulsed around Dawson, and Luc stepped into him, forcing the Luxen a step back. “She’s not his daughter. She’s had nothing to do with them, man. You need to calm down or I’ll have to make you calm down. You feel me? I’m hoping you do, because I really don’t want to make Bethany a widow and little Ash fatherless.”

  “Luc!” I gasped, scooting to the edge of the couch as Daemon’s warning surfaced once more. “Jesus. That’s a bit much.”

  “No, it’s not.” His reply came on a low growl. “Not nearly enough.”

  I gaped at him. “Yes, it is.”

  The faint light around Dawson faded as a long, tense moment passed. “I feel you, Luc.”

  “Good.”

  Neither moved for a long moment, and then Dawson returned to where he’d been standing against the wall, his jaw thrumming as his emerald gaze flicked from Luc to me. “Sorry, I’m just a little confused.”

  “Welcome to the club.” Kent grinned as Luc returned to the spot beside me.

  Heidi eyed me, her nose pinched like it always was when she was trying to figure something out, and my stomach sank. Since she didn’t know the truth about me, I knew none of this made sense to her.

  Dawson’s entire body was taut and stretched as if he were trying to hold himself back.

  Luc smirked.

  I glared at him until the twist to his lips faded. “That was totally unnecessary.”

  “If you knew what they did to him and what he’d give for just a tablespoon of retribution, you’d understand just how necessary that was.”

  Blood drained from my face as I glanced at Dawson. He didn’t deny what Luc had said as his eyes met mine. If I had been Jason Dasher’s real daughter or if Luc hadn’t been here, would Dawson have hurt me?

  “I don’t want you saying anything to Sylvia,” Luc repeated. “Nothing, Peaches. Absolutely nothing.”

  The corners of my lips tugged down. “She works with infectious diseases, and she—”

  “And she worked for the Daedalus,” he cut me off, pulling his arm off the back of the couch. “She is the absolute last person that needs to know about what happened here.”

  “She worked for them in the past tense,” I reminded him as Kent drew his leg off the chair and straightened. “And she wasn’t a part of the horrible stuff they did.”

  “That’s what she says, Peaches. That doesn’t mean that’s the truth.”

  Every muscle in my back locked up. “You don’t believe her?”

  Luc didn’t respond.

  The dark-haired Luxen in the corner did. “I never met this Sylvia, but I knew her husband well, and I also know that maybe, in the very beginning, the Daedalus had good intentions. They wanted to eradicate disease and to better human life, but there wasn’t a single person within that organization that did not know what they turned into. Everyone in the Daedalus was fully aware of what they were doing and how they were developing their serums.”

  I pressed my hands between my knees. “She didn’t. I swear. I know she worked for them, but you don’t understand.”

  Could I tell Dawson who she really was and what she had done to ensure Jason Dasher wouldn’t hurt another person?

  “She can help us at least figure out what happened to Sarah,” I repeated. “And it’s not like tonight was an isolated case.”

  “Not going to happen.” Luc rose to his feet once more. “What happened at school is not the same as what is ha
ppening here.”

  Whatever grip I had on my patience was lost as I glared up at him. “Last time I checked, bud, you don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do. You don’t get to tell me to do anything.”

  Emery’s eyes widened as Luc pivoted fluidly, facing me. “I do get a say in who knows about what happens here, Peaches. That’s not the same thing as telling you what to do.”

  “That is the exact same thing as telling me what to do,” I snapped.

  “Not in my world,” he replied.

  “In my world, which is everyone’s world, it is.” I shot to my feet, throwing my arms wide. “There is no reason why I can’t tell her, especially when she is probably the only person in this entire city that could figure out what happened to that girl—who is still out there, by the way, running around with black snake veins and hopefully not eating someone’s face!”

  “For God’s sake, the girl is not a zombie, because zombies aren’t real.”

  “But aliens are?”

  He shot me a bland look.

  “You don’t trust her at all, do you?”

  Luc dipped his chin toward me, voice low. “Not even remotely. I wouldn’t trust her with a lab mouse,” he said, and I gasped, because that seemed excessive. “I wouldn’t even trust her with Diesel.”

  “Diesel is a damn rock!”

  “Exactly,” he retorted smugly.

  I shook my head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I’m being smart. You should try it.”

  “I am!” I shouted. “And maybe you should try not being a demeaning asshole.”

  “I’m not being—”

  “Think really hard before you finish that statement, because you just said I was being stupid,” I cut him off.

  His chest rose with a deep breath. “You’re right. That was wrong. I’m sorry,” he said, eyes flaring an intense purple. “I shouldn’t have said that, and acknowledging that doesn’t change who she is. You might have forgotten that she lied to you and what she took from you, but I haven’t.”

  My fingers curled inward, pressing into my palms. “You lied to me, too, Luc, or are you conveniently forgetting that?”

  “I haven’t forgotten anything.” His features were set, lips pressed into a thin, hard line. “She took the life you knew from you.”

  “You took it from me, too.” I rose onto the tips of my toes, and Luc flinched. “You cannot put it all on her.” A voice I barely recognized as mine left me. “You made the choice to give me to them. You—”

  “How in the hell can you say that? I didn’t give you to them, Evie.” His eyes were storm clouds now, churning and dangerous. “Do I need to remind you of that? I did the only thing I could do to save your life. You were dying, and that bastard Jason Dasher had a cure. It was Sylvia who demanded that I stay away from you afterward. That was a deal she forced me to make, because if I didn’t agree, you would’ve died. I didn’t abandon you. It killed me to walk away.”

  Shuddering at his words, I quickly realized I shouldn’t have said that. “I know you didn’t just give me to them. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, but that doesn’t change the fact that you also kept huge secrets from me.”

  “Yeah, because you would’ve definitely believed me if I’d told you right away.”

  “That’s still no excuse for lying by omission.” Truth was, I wouldn’t have believed him. Who would? But that wasn’t the point, because this whole situation made me realize something very important. Luc kept me in the dark about a lot of things, and I’d thought it was to keep me at a safe distance from the dangerous and illegal things they did here, but now I was beginning to think that wasn’t the only reason. There was a good chance he was keeping me in the dark because of Mom. “You still don’t tell me everything, Luc. You keep stuff from me now.”

  “Like what?”

  “You didn’t tell me about Sarah or what happened with the other Luxen. You don’t tell me 99 percent of the things you do here even though you have officers randomly showing up, and I bet that happens a lot even though I only know of that one time.”

  Luc looked away.

  “Answer this—do you go on these runs? Help move Luxen out?”

  His jaw clenched. “Sometimes I do when you’re at school. Quick trips where Archer or Daemon are coming up to meet me.”

  The breath of air I took went nowhere. “And you never told me about this.” My heart started pounding in my chest. “What if something happened to you on one of these runs? I wouldn’t even know, Luc. I’d have no idea. You’d just be gone.”

  His gaze shot to mine. “I don’t tell you because I don’t want you to worry.”

  I blurted out the truth. “Do you think I don’t already worry, Luc? What you do here is crazy dangerous. Hell, your very existence is dangerous. Not telling me is not going to make me worry less.”

  The line of his jaw softened, as did the glint to his eyes. “You don’t need to worry about me, Peaches. I’m always going to come back to you. That’s a promise.”

  Warmth flushed my face. I’m always going to come back to you. That promise excited and angered me, left me feeling hopeful and full of dread.

  And then the strangest sensation hit me. I’d heard him make that promise before, hadn’t I?

  “I don’t tell you where I go with those Luxen or where they’re taken because knowledge like that puts you in danger, and it also makes you dangerous.”

  “Makes me dangerous?” It took me a moment to realize what he meant, and I couldn’t believe it. “Do you really think I’d tell anyone what goes on here? That I’d do that?”

  He didn’t respond for a long moment. “I don’t think you’d say anything to be malicious, but the fact that you trust Sylvia means there are things I cannot trust you with.”

  Luc and I stood toe to toe, and I realized that everyone had bounced out of the room like rubber balls. We were alone, and I hadn’t even noticed up until that point.

  “I have to trust her. She’s my mom—”

  “Sylvia is not your mother.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling as if I’d been smacked right in the face, because what he said came close to what I was feeling and thoughts that already left me reeling with guilt and confusion.

  Mother. Daughter. Just words and labels, but powerful words—words that went beyond blood.

  It struck me then as I blinked back the uncomfortable burn behind my eyes. She had told her fair share of lies and kept even more secrets, just like Zoe had and just like Luc still did. Things were a little awkward between Zoe and me, and I was just beginning to find my way with Luc, but it wasn’t fair to give them passes and not give one to her.

  Because at the end of the day, she was my mother. She kept a roof over my head and my belly full. She showered me with love and encouragement, and she was my mother in every sense of the word.

  “She’s the only mom I remember,” I said, voice thick. “I love her.”

  “Shit.” Luc thrust his hand through his hair. “Evie, I—”

  “She didn’t have to care for me or provide for me over these years. You know that.” I stepped back from him. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she can’t be trusted completely, but she’s still my mother, and I’m still her daughter. And I don’t believe for one second she’d ever do anything that would put me in danger or hurt me. And I just realized that you don’t trust me, and I don’t even know what to say about that.”

  Luc moved toward me, but I held up my hand as I backed toward the door. He held himself still. “Where are you going?”

  “Home.” I stalked across the room. “You know, where my mom lives.”

  “Evie,” he called out, and I stopped, turning back to him. “I’m serious. Don’t say anything to your mother.”

  My hand tightened on the knob, and if I could tear it off the door, there was a good chance I would’ve thrown it at him. “You don’t have to repeat yourself, Luc. I get it. Peace out.”

  Then I slammed the do
or behind me with enough force I was sure everyone in the club could hear it.

  * * *

  My lungs were burning as I shoved through the exterior doors of Foretoken, keys in hand, stepping out in the cool October night. Taking in deep breaths of the chilly air, I welcomed the breeze that washed over my stinging skin.

  I couldn’t believe Luc had said that to me.

  I couldn’t believe what I’d said to him.

  And I really hoped Sarah didn’t pop out of nowhere and try to eat my face off.

  Anger buzzed through my veins as I forced myself to keep walking, my free hand open and closing. Part of me totally understood why Luc had trust issues when it came to Mom. That didn’t surprise me at all. Look at what happened during #grilledcheesegate. But she’d apologized, and so had he, and he wasn’t even giving her a chance. Worse yet, he didn’t trust me, and that was a shock.

  Heading down the block to where I was parked, I passed several closed-up shops, many of them with HUMANS ONLY signs. I shook my head as I stomped down the sidewalk. What a—

  The streetlamp flickered above me, and then the one across the street did the same. My steps slowed and then stopped as the lamp at the end of the block, near where my car was parked, also flickered.

  That wasn’t normal.

  And the last time the streetlamps had done that, I’d found the dead body of a classmate.

  Nope. Not about to repeat that traumatic event.

  Spinning on my heel, I found myself standing eye to chest. I gasped as I jerked back a step. A man stood before me, so close that I could feel the … iciness radiating off him.

  He was older, maybe in his late twenties. His hair was a deep black, blending into the starless sky above, and his skin was the color of alabaster. His eyes …

  They were the palest shade of blue I’d ever seen, as if the irises had almost been leached of all color.

  A chill invaded my skin. “Excuse me.” I stepped back, heart racing.

  The man cocked his head to the side, his slash of a mouth thinning even further as he sniffed the air.

  Oh no.

  Oh hell no.

  When people started smelling the air, I didn’t want anything to do with that. Muscles in my legs tensed as I prepared to run back to the club just in case—