The Burning Shadow (Origin Series)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Unease slithered through me as I lifted my face to the pounding water, but I forced my mind blank, and then I stitched every broken part back together. I washed my hair twice, scrubbed my body down twice with the wonderful woodsy-scented body wash that I was sure belonged to a dude. I even scrubbed the bottoms of my feet and between my toes. By the time I finished with my shower, my body was pink from all the scrubbing, and I thought I had pulled it together.

  I grabbed one of the big, fluffy towels and wrapped it around me, cinching the two halves above my breasts. Finding a comb, I got down to working out all the ridiculous tangles while staring at my feet, because avoiding the mirror felt like it would be counterproductive to keeping it together.

  Satisfied with my hair, I opened the bathroom door, stepped out, and immediately came face to chest—a well-sculpted, golden, damp chest.

  Luc’s chest.

  Gasping, I stumbled back a step as my hands flew to my towel, holding on to it for dear life. My gaze shot to his.

  All the oxygen fled my lungs and my body and my brain at the sight of his expression, his stare.

  His eyes were wide, and the purple hue was literally churning, swirling with a potent emotion that singed the tips of my ears. His features were stark and sharp, full of tension. Lips parted, he didn’t seem like he was breathing at all as he stared at me, and he …

  Luc looked … hungry.

  A fine shiver skated over my skin. Demands rose to the tip of my tongue. Hold me. Touch me. Kiss me. Be with me, because then I wouldn’t have to think about anything else, and I knew Luc could make that possible.

  His gaze dipped—dropped to where my fingers clenched the towel and then lower. The towel was big, but it wasn’t long. It barely covered all the lady bits, and his gaze was slow and heavy like a caress.

  My heart started pounding in my chest, and those impossibly thick lashes rose as he dragged his gaze back up. I felt like I wasn’t even wearing a towel.

  I felt bare.

  Our gazes collided, and I realized how close we were standing. Only a couple of feet separated us.

  His chest rose. “You’re…” He trailed off, but that one word was deep, raspy.

  That one word felt bare.

  A hand lifted from his side. One leg moved forward, toward me, and a warm flush spread across my skin. The pupils of his eyes turned to diamonds.

  I dampened my lips as a nervous, edgy feeling swamped me, and a deep, throaty sound came from him, causing the muscles low in my stomach to tighten.

  I knew if he touched me right now, I would be lost. He would be lost.

  Luc blinked, and it was like a switch being thrown. He stepped back. His cheeks seemed to deepen in color. Was he blushing?

  Oh my God, Luc was blushing.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rough and raw. “I just took a shower in the other room and was coming in here to grab the guitar. I was going to be in and out.” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

  I believed him, but confusion surfaced. “It’s okay.”

  Luc opened his mouth but seemed to change his mind. For a second, he looked wholly unnerved. He pivoted around, movements stiffer than his normal fluid grace, and he left the room without looking back. And I stood in the same spot for several moments, wondering what in the hell had happened. What was going on with him?

  I glanced over to where the guitar still sat.

  Then I quickly got changed. Barefoot, I padded across the room and went out into the hall. I saw the open doorway to the bedroom across the hall. Somehow I knew he was in there.

  I walked over and peered inside. Luc was standing in front of a narrow bed, all the long, lean muscles of his back on display as he pulled a shirt on over his head. As his head poked free of the collar, he stilled, letting the hem float down.

  Luc knew I was there.

  “You forgot the guitar.”

  “Yeah, I kind of did.” He turned so slowly, and such relief flickered across his face when he saw me that I wondered if he’d thought I was still wearing only the towel.

  Feeling unsure, I lingered in the doorway. “I saw that you had a guitar at your apartment. I’m guessing you play and it wasn’t just for display.”

  That statement sounded as stupid out loud as it did in my head.

  Luc nodded.

  “Is that bedroom normally yours?”

  “Yes, but the room is all yours.” Luc faced me fully, his gaze roaming over my face. “You should probably get some rest. Grayson and Zoe headed out to the grocery store to pick up some food. They’ll be gone for a little bit.”

  “I don’t think I can sleep right now. Too much going on in my head.” Tiny balls of uncertainty took root in my chest. I wanted to ask why he wasn’t staying with me, but I couldn’t get the words out. Maybe he just wanted to give me my space or have some space for himself. It wasn’t a big deal.

  “Understandable,” he said.

  Anxious energy buzzed through me as I clasped my hands together. “Is Kent still passed out on the couch?”

  “Yeah. A nuclear bomb could be dropped and he wouldn’t wake up.”

  “Must be nice.” Right at that moment, I ran out of things to say—well, things I had the courage to say. I started to leave. “Okay, um. I guess I’ll try to get some rest—”

  “My real name is Lucas.”

  Thinking I was hearing things, I turned around.

  Luc sat on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least that’s what I was called when I was with the Daedalus. I never had a last name. I was just Lucas.”

  Walking back to him, I stopped just short of touching him. Some innate instinct told me he wouldn’t want that. “Last names are overrated.”

  “I guess so.” A wry grin twisted his lips. “No one calls me that anymore. Hell, most don’t even realize that Lucas is actually my name. Not even Zoe. Paris did, though. You…” He exhaled heavily. “You knew. I told you when we were younger.” There was a pause. “I don’t even know what made me start thinking about it, but I just wanted you to know again.”

  Sympathy rose as I watched him, even though I was now discovering that I’d been given something that had the possibility to further mutate me—something that had given me the ability briefly to fight and to kill. There were gaps of time that couldn’t be accounted for, an entire summer that was just missing, and it made me sick to think too deeply about it. I was an experiment, but I still had no idea what it was like to grow up as he and Zoe had. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter how powerful they were. They still had human emotions and thoughts, wants and needs, and everything had been stripped from them, even a last name.

  My heart broke for him—for all of them and for us. “You could give yourself a last name, you know?”

  “Seems a little late for that.”

  “Why?” I leaned against a dresser. “I don’t think there’s a time limit on picking a last name.”

  He inclined his head. “You know, you have a good point.”

  “Of course I do.” I smiled faintly. “Pick one.”

  His brows lifted. “Right now?”

  “Why not? Not like we have anything better to do.”

  Stretching out his long legs, he crossed them at the ankles. “We have to figure out what was done to you.”

  I tensed. “We do, but can we do that right now?”

  One side of his mouth tipped up. “No. Only because there’s not much we can find out while here. When we get to Zone 3, there will be people there who may know. Or will know where to go.” He paused. “It’s weird.”

  “What’s weird?”

  “That I don’t know what was done to you,” he replied, folding his arms over his chest. “I keep thinking about it. I know everything. Always. But this? I have no clue.”

  “Well, that’s a crappy time for your all-knowing skills not to kick in.”

  “Truth.” He eyed me.

  “You also don’t know what Sarah and April are—or were, which
is probably what I am,” I pointed out.

  “Thanks for showcasing my flaws.”

  I smiled. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “That and telling me to pick a last name.”

  I nodded.

  Luc’s gaze lifted to mine. A moment passed, and then he patted the space beside him. “Sit. I need your help, and your closeness will give me inspiration.”

  “That makes no sense.” But I pushed away from the dresser and went over, sitting on the bed. There wasn’t much space, so our thighs were pressed against each other’s. “Happy?”

  He looked over at me, his smile mysterious. “Getting there. Okay.” He crossed his ankles. “I think I know what I want my last name to be.”

  “What?” I said.

  “I think it will be a fitting last name. You’ll like it.”

  “Only the good Lord knows what this is going to be,” I replied dryly.

  “King.”

  “What?” I arched a brow.

  “King. I’m going to give myself the last name King.”

  “Wow.” I laughed. “I don’t even know what to say about that.”

  “Luc King. I think it sounds amazing.”

  “I think it sounds like you should be a mob boss.”

  “Like I said, completely fitting.”

  Running my toes through the soft carpet, I grinned. “It does have a nice ring to it. Luc King, badass extraordinaire.”

  “What? You think I’m a badass?”

  I shot him a sidelong glance. “You know you’re a badass. I mean, come on. You can hover off the ground.”

  “Is that a requirement for being a badass?”

  “I’m pretty sure that it is.” Tucking my hair back behind my ear, I stopped moving my feet. “So, this whole Zone 3 thing. I really don’t understand it. Those towns are basically useless, right? No electricity. Nothing. And they’ve all been evacuated.”

  Luc inhaled deeply. “The cities aren’t empty. They never have been.” He twisted toward me, planting a hand on the bed behind him. “The general public thinks that the nice, caring government went in there and evacuated everyone after the EMT bombs were dropped and all the Luxen were dead, right?”

  My forehead creased. “They had to, right? Because nothing works there—no lights, no cooling or heating. No stoves or medical equipment. I could keep going, but I think you get the point.”

  He studied me closely. “They didn’t.”

  Disbelief gave way to pure shock. “Are you seriously telling me that they left people there … walled up in those cities, and then told the world that they evacuated every human out of there?”

  “Yes. That’s what I’m telling you.”

  I gaped at him. I had no reason not to believe him, but this was huge and also horrific.

  “There were people who couldn’t evacuate. Those who were elderly or sick. Those who were too poor or had family they needed to take care of. People—human people—that the government decided were not worth saving. People they judged and decided wouldn’t make tomorrow a safer, better day.”

  Horror rose. “Oh my God…”

  His face was hard. “I don’t think God had anything to do with that, but people did. Humans. Biggest assholes on Earth.”

  Couldn’t argue that.

  “Each of the zones had varying degrees of population in them. A lot of people have … well, let’s say that their living conditions were so poor, many didn’t make it past the first year of the walls. Many of them were dying inside those walls, in those barren cities being fed a lie that help was coming, and finally help did come. The Luxen.”

  “The … unregistered Luxen?”

  “Yes. Those cities may be without electricity, but they are not without power.”

  So much disgust and anger filled me that I couldn’t even think straight. How could they just leave people there? How could they be so damn inhuman?

  How did the world not know this? The walls had gone up quickly, unbelievably so, but how could the world not know that there were people in those cities?

  “The world only sees what it wants to see,” Luc answered my unspoken question quietly. “They don’t want to acknowledge just how inhuman humans can be. This isn’t the first time people have been left behind when tragedy strikes.”

  “How could they hide it, though? Not everyone in the world is an uncaring douchebag.”

  “The pulse bombs. Airplanes can’t fly within a hundred miles of those cities. Drones don’t work, either. Satellite images are disrupted over the areas, as are cell phone signals. Experts say it’ll be like that for at least another decade or so.”

  He was right. I’d dumbly forgotten about the fallout radius and how several major airports near those cities had had to relocate. “So these people are just stuck there?”

  “For now,” he said. “They are being taken care of.”

  “By the Luxen? By unregistered Luxen?”

  “Registered and unregistered.”

  “When did you start helping Luxen go there?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t shut me out like he often did.

  He didn’t.

  “When President McHugh starting campaigning. He said things that made a lot of Luxen uneasy. It started with wanting to move Luxen to their own communities.” His lip curled in a sneer. “I think communities is code for another, less attractive C-word that history has never favorably looked upon.”

  A shudder worked its way through me. No, not for one second did I think anything good could come from Luxen-only communities.

  “Zone 3 is one of our hideouts for those we’re moving and if anyone needs to lie low. Obviously, transporting Luxen has its risks.”

  “Obviously,” I murmured, once again awed by him, by all of them. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this or not, but what you’re doing is amazing.”

  He shrugged. “What I’m doing also means a lot of people owe me favors.”

  I eyed him closely. “I don’t think collecting favors is the only reason you’re helping the Luxen.”

  Luc didn’t immediately reply. “And why would you think that?”

  “Because I feel like I know you well enough to know that’s not true,” I told him.

  His gaze flickered over my face, and I wished he’d touch me. Wished that he’d do more.

  “I don’t think you know me as well as you think you do,” he said.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because you’re giving me far too much credit.” One shoulder lifted, and then he changed the subject before I could respond. “Obviously, a big issue with the zones is communication. Since cell phones don’t work within about a hundred-mile radius of the cities, we set up hot spots outside that radius, places where messages can be left on burner phones.”

  “A Harry Potter owl would be cooler,” I muttered.

  “True.”

  Silence fell between us as my mind wandered over what I’d learned. There was a sense of awe and hopelessness, a weird mixture. The thing was, Luc and the gang couldn’t move all the Luxen to safer areas. Many would be forced into these communities.

  Something had to be done, because there was no way all the Luxen could be moved out.

  “Hey.” The back of his hand brushed over my cheek as he caught a piece of hair, tucking it back behind my ear.

  I lifted my chin, and my gaze moved to his. Bright eyes the color of the most intense lilacs held mine. It seemed like he’d been about to say something, but words had fallen by the wayside.

  His fingers lingered just below my ear. A spark flared to life, passing from his skin to mine, humming in the air. I took a breath, but it didn’t go anywhere.

  Please.

  That was all I could think. Please. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to lose myself in him. I wanted to forget, and I wanted to remember.

  Tension lined his mouth, and my heart sped up. His breath was a warm stroke along my cheek, moving closer and closer—

  A swift curse carried up from th
e living room, and I jerked back, a little breathless as Kent’s voice boomed. “Luc? Evie? I think you two need to come down here.”

  I could feel Luc’s intense gaze as I rose, not really seeing the room. “I thought you said he was still passed out and a nuke wouldn’t even wake him.”

  He cleared his throat, but when he spoke, there was this smoky quality to it. “Apparently, I was wrong.”

  Somewhat disappointed, and totally confused by why I hadn’t just kissed him, I hurried out of the bedroom. Luc was right behind me, easily slipping past me and heading down the steps first.

  I glared daggers into his back, and at the bottom of the stairs, he looked up and winked.

  My eyes narrowed.

  Kent was sitting up on the couch, his attention focused on the TV. His mohawk had given up on life and had flopped over to the side. “You guys need to see this.”

  “See what…?” Luc trailed off, and then he cursed.

  “What?” My gaze followed Luc’s as I stepped down into the living room and looked up at the TV.

  My jaw dropped.

  There was a picture of my mom—my beautiful, happy mom. It was her Fort Detrick badge.

  The floor swayed.

  A hand—Luc’s hand—wrapped around my upper arm just as the image on the TV changed.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  There was my face—my smiling yearbook photo, to be exact, and underneath my face and my name were words in capital letters that blurred together.

  WANTED IN CONNECTION WITH THE MURDER OF COL. SYLVIA DASHER.

  32

  I’d laughed.

  I’d sat down and listened to the Columbia chief of police’s briefing while my mom’s picture was on the left side of the screen and mine was underneath hers. The police chief said I was a suspect in an ambush-style killing.

  I didn’t even know what ambush-style killing meant. Like I’d hidden in a freaking bush somewhere and then jumped out?

  The police chief also said I was considered armed and dangerous.

  That’s the exact moment when I laughed.

  So that was my reaction to hearing I was suspected in my mother’s murder. I laughed, and I felt like I was going to laugh more. Like in the never-stop-laughing kind of laugh.