“Because I don’t understand why being friends with them would make you think I would hurt you,” I told him, even though I knew why humans feared the Luxen, whether that was right or wrong. “And because I don’t want to hurt you.” I paused. “Even though you were in my house.”
“I didn’t know anyone moved in.” His gaze nervously shot toward me and then skittered back to the door. “It had been empty all this time.”
“We just moved in a few days ago. I’m new here, but I know some of the people here.” That also wasn’t exactly a lie. “Do you live here?”
The kid didn’t answer.
My mind raced, trying to figure out what I could say that would keep him talking and wouldn’t make him even more nervous. I decided it might help if I told him my name. “My name is Evie, by the way, and like I said, I just got here a few days ago with my boyfriend.”
Another quick glance in my direction. “Is your boyfriend one of them?”
“Is he a Luxen? No.” That was also not exactly a lie, but the kid wouldn’t know that Origins or hybrids existed.
“But you’re here, so you’re one of them that support them,” he said.
“I do. The Luxen here are nothing like the ones who invaded,” I said, really hoping this wasn’t the time Luc decided to show up. “Unless you know something I don’t? If so, I really hope you tell me.”
He didn’t say anything for so long that I thought he wasn’t going to answer, but he did. “We don’t go near them.”
“We?”
The kid took a deep breath and then looked at me, and this time, he didn’t look away. I thought that was a step in the right direction, but there was a heaviness in his stare. This kid had seen far too much in his young life. “I was trying to steal your stuff.” He lifted his chin, and his shoulders squared. “You caught me, and I don’t believe you’re not mad, so don’t even try to lie.”
“You caught me off guard. Scared me a little, but I’m not mad. I wouldn’t be standing here and trying to talk to you if I were. Besides, it’s not like you’re stealing my food. That stuff was here when we arrived.” I forced a casual shrug. “And it’s not like you took the peanut butter. If you had, then I wouldn’t be remotely happy.”
He blinked.
“I like peanut butter.” I smiled. “A lot.”
A long moment passed as he did nothing but stare at me. “You’re weird.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I think I am.”
“Definitely are,” he confirmed. His wary gaze never left me, but he seemed to relax a little, no longer glancing at the entrance to the kitchen every three seconds.
“So, are you going to tell me your name, at least?”
“Nate.” He shifted uneasily, scratching his fingers through his hair. “Just Nate.”
Relieved and a bit surprised that he’d shared his name, I said, “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Nate.”
He stared at me again, this time as if I had a third arm sticking out of the middle of my forehead.
I didn’t dare move closer to him. “You don’t live in this community, do you?”
Nate moved from one foot to the other. “I don’t live here.”
Thinking of the flashing lights I’d seen, I almost shoved it aside. The city was dead and everything of value scavenged. How could anyone live there, let alone more than one person, and not have been seen?
But if he didn’t live here, and I seriously doubted he could get through the wall without being seen, there could only be one other place. Houston may be dead, but it was a big city, and if the community had taken all the goods from the city, it would make sense that he was doing virtually the same, scavenging the community.
“Do you live in the city?” I asked.
He stopped fidgeting.
“I mean, where else could you live?”
Nate gave me a half shrug.
Even though I already suspected as much, it still sent me reeling. “How do you live there? Are you—?” Alone? Without parents? I cut myself off before I asked those questions. I already knew there were more than just him. He’d said we, and I had a feeling I had to choose my questions wisely.
“I make do,” he mumbled, glancing at one of the cans of green beans.
“I guess you’d have to. Can I ask you something else?” When he gave a quick nod, I said, “Why are you living there and not here?”
“We aren’t from here, and we don’t trust them,” he said, his eyes flashing. “They killed people. We all saw them, right after the invasion, before they dropped those bombs. We saw them touching people and becoming them, killing them.”
He was talking about how the invading Luxen had rapidly assimilated the human DNA, virtually assuming the humans’ physical appearance. Total Invasion of the Body Snatchers style, but …
“The invading Luxen were dangerous. They were killers, but the Luxen here didn’t do that.”
His chin jerked up. “How can you know? You said you just got here.”
“Because I know that there are a lot of Luxen who were living here, on Earth, long before the others came, and the vast majority of them never hurt anyone. Some of those Luxen are here, in this community, living with humans—helping them. Some of them are even my friends I met before I came here,” I explained, the last part a wish that rolled off my tongue all too easily. “And hey, I’m not saying all Luxen are perfect examples of, well, an alien race, but I think the ones here are good.”
Nate went quiet again as he seemed to digest the news that the Luxen have been here. There was no shock or denial. I had a feeling this kid had been exposed to enough in his short life that he knew anything and everything was possible.
“Or have you seen something different from the ones here?” I pressed.
“How would I know if I have? The way they look isn’t the way they always do,” he argued, and man, he had a point. Luxen chose their human form, the ones who’d been here for a while having done so by slowly taking a little human DNA here and there, but some Luxen could easily change their appearance by mirroring those around them. “Any of them could be killers, but they just look different now.”
“You’re right.” I took a shallow breath. “But the ones here and the vast majority of others, out there in the world outside these walls, don’t want to hurt anyone. They just want to live. That’s all.”
There wasn’t a single thing about the look on his face that said he believed me, so I wasn’t surprised when he said, “I’ve got to go.”
Knowing the only way I could stop him was to get physical—and that wouldn’t do anything to help build trust for me or the Luxen—I nodded. “Okay. You can have the food if you want. I think there were some old plastic bags in the pantry. Would probably make it easier for you to carry.”
His eyes widened slightly. “For real?”
I nodded.
Nate started to bend down to grab one of the nearest cans, but jerked upright. “Why?” he demanded. “Why would you let me take the food?”
I glanced at one of the cans. “Creamed corn? Not my food of choice.”
There was a twitch of the boy’s lips, a hint of a grin. “It’s gross, but my…”
“But what?” I asked when he trailed off.
His gaze fell to the can, where it lay just at the corner of the island. “What’s the catch?” he asked instead. “There has to be a catch.”
Heaviness settled in my chest. “There’s no catch, Nate. You need the food, right?”
His cheeks pinkened under the dirt, and I realized I’d said the wrong thing, but before I could slap myself, he said, “I do.”
Relieved he hadn’t denied that to his own demise, I moved backward until I was against the sink. “Take what you want. No catch.”
Nate stared at me for several moments. “What about the peanut butter?”
“You can’t have that.”
Those lips twitched again, and then he didn’t waste time, snatching a bag from the pantry and gathering up the cans and s
mall pack of bread. I would’ve helped, but I sensed he wouldn’t be comfortable if I got close to him. So many questions rose to the surface as I watched him. Like how did he get out of the city and move about without being seen? How many others were in the city? How old was he? Were there more kids? Adults? Others too afraid of the Luxen to reach out for help? I kept quiet, though. Nate may be taking the food, but that didn’t mean he trusted me.
I waited until his bag was in hand before I spoke. “If you need more food or anything, you can come here. Or if you, you know, just want to hang out?”
He didn’t respond.
Maybe the last offer was a bit much, but I wanted him to know that it was okay if he came back.
Cradling his bag to his chest, he inched his way toward the back door. He opened it as he looked over his shoulder at me. “Please don’t tell anyone you saw me. You might think they’re different and they’re safe, but if you tell them, they’ll come looking for us. The others—they’ll run.” His lower lip trembled. “They can’t make it out there alone if they do. Please.”
“There are more kids?” I asked.
He looked down at the bag he carried and nodded.
“How many?”
“That doesn’t matter. Just don’t say anything. Please.”
It didn’t matter, because I couldn’t fathom how one kid survived, let alone more. I couldn’t promise my silence. Even if I wanted to, because Luc would likely overhear my thoughts, and Nate was right. I had a feeling if Cekiah or anyone else learned of these kids, they’d go for them, and if they were afraid enough to run, they had a large enough city to hide in. I wouldn’t hide this from Luc, but that didn’t mean the others needed to know.
Lying was a necessity here. At least that’s what I told myself, because Nate didn’t need to know any of that. “Promise me if you need more food or anything, you’ll come back here, and I won’t tell the others.”
His eyes narrowed. “You blackmailing me?”
“I wouldn’t call it that,” I reasoned.
“What would you call it, then?”
“Graymailing you?”
A surprised giggle burst from him. “You are weird.”
“True,” I murmured. “Do we have a deal?”
Nate was slow to nod. “Deal.”
“Good.”
Nate left then, without another word, and it was hard not to follow him. I released a ragged breath, hoping that wouldn’t be the first and only time I saw him.
* * *
Finishing off the peanut butter, I roamed the backyard, looking for any sign of which way Nate had gone. There was none. Thoughts jumping from my conversation with Cekiah, Kat, and Dee, and Nate’s appearance, I sat under the large oak with leaves of burnt gold. Looking up as I screwed the lid back onto the jar, I saw a tiny blackbird staring down at me.
Huh. That was the first bird I’d seen here.
Lying back, I watched the little guy hop along the branch. I didn’t let myself dwell on what Kat or Cekiah had said. I couldn’t. I was already afraid of losing control, and stressing over what would happen wouldn’t help keep my panic at bay or whatever was inside me calm. My mind made its way back to Nate and the questions I couldn’t ask.
How I dozed off after everything, I had no idea, but I must’ve, because the next thing I felt was the touch of fingertips against my cheek, and the hum of electricity skittering over my skin. When I opened my eyes, I saw impossibly long, thick lashes and slivers of violet tanzanite.
“Hi there,” Luc murmured, a small smile playing across lips that were decadently full.
“Hi.”
“I’m wondering something.” Luc was stretched out beside me, lying on his side with his cheek resting against his hand.
“What?” I murmured, wondering how long he’d been there.
“Why are you lying in the backyard, under a tree, cradling a jar of peanut butter to your chest?”
“Huh?” My brows snapped together as I looked down, and hell if I wasn’t cradling the jar. “I fell asleep with it.”
“I feel like I need to be a better boyfriend if you’re turning to peanut butter for support.”
I let my head fall back against the grass. “You could never compete with peanut butter.”
“That sounds like a challenge.” One side of his lips kicked up.
Beyond the leaves, the sky was orange over Luc’s shoulder. Dusk. “I must’ve napped the afternoon away. I’m probably covered in ticks.”
He dragged the tips of his fingers along my cheekbone as he nodded.
“Great,” I sighed, cuddling the peanut butter.
“I can check you over. Actually, I would be more than happy to do so. I’m just going to need you to undress. Completely. I can also help with that.”
“I bet you can.” I laughed even as I shivered at the possibility. I refused to believe the attraction that sparked and burned whenever we were around each other could be engineered by a secretive government agency, no matter how many mad scientists they had on their payroll.
Those fingers skated down my throat. “I’m just being helpful. Wouldn’t want to miss a spot and you end up with Rocky Mountain spotted fever.”
“Can I even get Rocky Mountain spotted fever?”
“Probably not. I also don’t think there are ticks in this grass.” He drew his finger along the collar of my shirt. “But we can pretend. I can assure you it would be a lot of fun.”
“You don’t need to convince me of what I already know.” Muscles feeling incredibly loose, I yawned. Loudly. Right in Luc’s face. I flushed, looking away. “Sorry.”
Luc chuckled. “Sleepy, huh?”
“Yeah.” And I really was. There was a good chance I could easily fall back to sleep now. “It’s a peanut butter coma.”
“A what?”
“I ate nearly an entire jar of peanut butter.” I turned my head to him. “Actually, I ate all the peanut better. Sorry.”
His gaze flickered over my face. “You know, I don’t like peanut butter.”
I had to be hallucinating. “Come again?”
“I mean, I’ll eat it if I have to, but just not a fan of it.”
“How? How is that possible?” I demanded. “Peanut butter is life.”
He simply gave me a half shrug.
“I don’t think we can be friends any longer,” I said even as I gave into my urge and reached up to run my fingers through his hair. Soft like silk. He turned his head, kissing my palm before I lowered it.
“Good thing we’re not friends, Peaches.” His gaze dipped to my mouth, the heaviness and intensity in his hooded stare sending a fire sweeping over my skin.
“On second thought, this is actually perfect. This means we won’t ever fight over the peanut butter.”
“See? You and I go together like cheese and bread.” His grin was brief. “Sorry everything took so long today.”
“No need to apologize.”
Amusement danced across his features. “Doubtful. I bet you were beside yourself with loneliness and need.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. No way would I admit how lonely I’d been.
The grin that appeared left me wondering if he knew what I was thinking. Probably.
“I spent some time with Zoe. She took me around the zone. Then Dee came over. Kat wanted to see me.”
“She did?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d that go?”
“Good.” I purposely didn’t think about what Kat had said. Luc may know what they’d do if I proved a threat, but knowing and realizing I knew were two very different things.
His head tilted slightly. “Just good?”
“Yep. They have a lot of baby stuff,” I went on. “And books. So many books.”
“Kat is a huge reader. Back when she was living outside of here, she used to have a book blog. Katy’s Krazy Obsession or something. Daemon used to stalk the hell out of it.”
I grinned, picturing the dark-haired Luxen scrolling endles
sly through posts and pictures of book hauls. The grin faded when I thought about what else I needed to talk to him about.
Luc plucked a blade of grass from my hair. “I didn’t think it would take so long.”
“I heard you had company in the form of Archer and you made a pit stop to talk to Cekiah.”
Whether Luc was surprised that I knew about that or not, his expression didn’t give it away. “Yes. She’s sort of the unofficial leader around here, and I knew Daemon wouldn’t keep what happened from her. Cekiah’s a good woman.”
“Who owes you a favor?”
“There is that.”
“What did you do for her?”
“A gentleman would never share.”
I lifted my brows. “Good thing you’re not a gentleman.”
“True.” Returning to trace the collar of my shirt, he leaned closer. With every pass, he worked the loose neckline farther down. “I helped her locate her missing siblings.”
“That’s all?”
He nodded.
I had a feeling there was a lot more to that story. “How did the talk go with Daemon?”
“I know you were irritated about being iced out of the conversation with him. I’m sorry for that,” he said, and surprise flickered through me.
“Yeah, well, I was irritated.”
“I can’t blame you for that.” He continued dragging his finger along my skin above the collar. “Daemon needed to get what he had to say out of him, but you didn’t need to hear it.” Luc’s lashes swept up and his gaze pierced mine. “Because you already knew what he was going to say, Evie.”
I thought that over. Luc was right. I did know.
“And I know you feel guilt for what you did to him in the woods. You don’t need him compounding that by running his mouth, and I don’t need to throw him through a wall because he’s hurt your feelings.”
Shifting my gaze to the tree above, I saw that the bird was gone. “He told Kat about what happened. She said he’d eventually forgive me.”
“He will.”
Another yawn climbed its way out of me. “Do you really think that?”
“I do. Right now, he’s just worried about Kat and their child and their friends, but that will change once he sees that won’t happen again.”
The Brightest Night Page 13
