He glanced over at me. “That’s expected. Not like you engage in a little bit of breaking and entering on a daily basis.”
“Do you?”
He chuckled under his breath as April’s two-story, colonial-style home came into view. “I have been known to break into a house or … twenty.”
I shot him a look. “Nice.”
“You don’t have to do this. You can wait with Kent, and that would be okay. Actually, I’d prefer it.”
“No,” I immediately responded. “I can do this.”
Luc nodded as he cut toward the side of the house, passing numerous dark windows. The backyard was fenced, but the gate was open, framed by overgrown butterfly bushes. I could see the outline of a large, outdoor play set. A swing swayed in the breeze, making a soft creaking sound. A wave of goose bumps rose along my arms, under my sweater.
I stopped.
So did Luc.
Instinct roared to life, screaming that we were being watched. No sooner had that thought finished, a shadow peeled away from the back of the house, stepping underneath the faint glow of a solar light.
Grayson.
God.
Relief nearly doubled me over as the tall Luxen said, “No one is inside. At least not alive.”
My hand fluttered to my stomach. “Is someone … dead inside?”
“If there is, I haven’t seen them.”
“Then why would you…?” I trailed off, immediately deciding it wasn’t worth the time or energy to understand why he’d phrased it like he had.
Luc walked up the short set of steps and onto the porch. “Did you guys check out anything yesterday?”
He shook his head. “We just looked around to see if April was here, and that was about it. Then Zoe and I went to several of her known friends’ houses. The house is unlocked, and no one has been here as far as I can tell.”
“Perfect.” Luc glanced back to where I stood. “Want to head in?”
Throat dry, I nodded as I came up the small set of steps, aware of Grayson watching me.
“You sure this is a good idea?” Grayson asked. “Her?”
I stopped and looked at the Luxen.
“Gray.” Luc sighed.
“What? She has no experience in these kinds of things.” Grayson had a point, the jerk. “She shouldn’t even be here.”
“I didn’t know we needed your opinion,” I snapped, and I could practically feel Grayson’s laser-like gaze narrowing on me.
“We don’t.” Luc’s tone was even. “Go keep Kent company.”
Grayson stiffened. “Shouldn’t I be keeping you guys company?”
“Are you going to be able to keep your mouth shut?” Luc returned.
The Luxen seemed to mull that over and then groused, “No.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Then peace out.”
Sending me one last wrathful look, Grayson was nothing but a blur as he left the porch, off to find Kent.
“Why does he hate me?” I asked when I was sure he was gone.
Luc paused in the entryway. “He doesn’t hate you, Peaches.”
I laughed at that. “Oh, come on. He totally hates me.”
Shaking his head, Luc drifted into a dark mudroom. “You’re reading it wrong.”
“Pretty sure I’m reading him exactly right.”
A whitish glow surrounded Luc’s hand as he proceeded into the kitchen, guiding our way. “Once we close some of these curtains and blinds, we can probably turn on a few of the lamps.”
I nodded as I crept behind him, scanning the area. A wooden bowl sat in the middle of the island. There were bananas in it, still fresh. I passed a fridge cluttered with random magnets. There were letters, but not pieced into any kind of word I recognized. Luc moved ahead, systematically closing blinds and curtains, using the Source to guide his way.
The kitchen flowed into a dining room and then a living room with fluffy pillows everywhere. There were magazines on the coffee table, coasters from a local bar on the end tables. The room smelled like apples, and everything about it seemed normal.
Turning, I spied the steps and made my way to them. I’d been to April’s house a few times over the years, so I knew where her bedroom was upstairs. Luc and I went up the carpet-covered stairs, our steps silent, and entered a long hallway.
It was strange being here now, wondering if everything about April had been a performance she’d wanted us to see. Had she always been this … whatever this was? Was her hatred of Luxen real or an act? Did she know what Zoe was, and when we’d been friends, had any of that been real?
“There’s something odd about this house,” Luc said as he opened a door and found the linen closet.
“What makes you say that?” I moved along the other side of the wall.
“There’s not a single sound here. No fan. No bumps or bangs of air kicking on and off.” Now that he pointed it out, I realized he was right. “It’s like walking through a graveyard—a haunted graveyard.”
I shuddered as I opened the door to what appeared to be a guest bedroom. “Thanks for putting that in my head.”
“You’re welcome.” A door opened, and then Luc said, “You said she had a little sister, right?”
“Yeah.”
“This must be her room.” He stepped inside. “There’s some clothing laid out on the bed. Looks like something that belongs to a child.”
My fingers curled over the cool handle, heart thumping. Where was April’s family? Were they whatever she was, including her little sister? I moved ahead, pushing open the door to April’s bedroom with one hand while I fiddled with the obsidian hanging from my necklace, rubbing my thumb along the smooth rock. The blinds in this room were already drawn, and I hurried over to a bed, turning on the lamp. I saw the makeup vanity first, where several tubes of red lipstick were neatly stacked in a little cubby.
“Jackpot,” I heard Luc say from somewhere out in the hallway. “Found an office.”
Her room was impeccably neat, much … like Mom’s. Everything had its own place. A small bookshelf with books lined up in … alphabetical order? I squinted. Yep. Wow. Scarves rolled up in a basket on top, makeup stacked in cubbies, and her desk free and clear of clutter. It was like I remembered.
On the center of her perfectly made bed was a stuffed unicorn.
I knew that unicorn.
During the summer after school started back up, the summer I remembered, we’d gone to the county fair. Zoe had won that stuffed unicorn and had given it to her.
I don’t know how long I stared at the unicorn, but I finally tore my gaze from it and approached her desk, opening the drawers. Nothing but staplers and an assortment of colorful paper clips. Her walls were bare. No pictures. No paintings or posters, and I thought she’d had photos before. I turned to her dresser, letting go of the obsidian.
I really didn’t know what I was looking for. Not like there would be a diary April kept, explaining everything.
Though that would be helpful.
Opening the first drawer, I saw a bunch of undies and winced. Was I really going to go—
Luc suddenly appeared behind me, folding his arm around my waist, drawing me back against his chest. “Someone is here.”
21
My heart jumped into my throat as I whispered, “What?”
“Just came through the front door.”
“Shit,” I hissed, stomach hollowing.
“I want to see who it is and what they’re up to.”
I nodded, hoping that meant no one was killing anyone tonight. Unless it was April. I was totally down with killing her.
A grin flashed across Luc’s face. “Bloodthirsty. I like it.”
There was no time to be annoyed with him reading my thoughts. Luc, obviously way more skilled at this kind of stuff, launched into action. Moving fast, he picked me up as if I were nothing more than a stunned kitten. The dresser drawer closed, and the lamp flipped off without him touching it, pitching the room into darkness as h
e spun toward the closet door.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs, nowhere near as quiet as we’d been. My body flashed hot and cold. A second later, I was pressed back among shirts and sweaters as Luc quietly and quickly closed the closet door behind him.
Hangers swayed, clacking off one another and sending a plume of dust into the air. My hand snaked out, and I caught them, stilling the little bastards a handful of seconds before April’s bedroom light came on.
My heart was speeding so fast I thought I might be sick as Luc reached behind him, placing his hand on my hip. There was no space between us as he stepped back, keeping me against the wall.
The last time we’d been in a closet, it had ended with a stolen kiss and flying ART officers.
I was really hoping there were no ART officers involved this time.
Through the tiny gaps in the slats of the closet door, I saw a woman wearing black trousers stride into the room.
I gripped the back of Luc’s shirt, pressing my lips together. He squeezed my hip in return. Whoever was in the room opened the dresser I’d been at—
My nose suddenly tickled and itched. The dust! The tickling grew until my eyes watered. Oh no. I could feel it. A sneeze building in the back of my nose.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
This was a terrible idea. Horrible idea. I was going to spin-kick myself in the face for coming up with this.
I squeezed my eyes shut as my fingers dug into Luc’s back. He turned his head toward me, and I planted my face into his back, praying to God I could stop the sneeze, because I knew if we were exposed, Luc would react first and think later, and we had no idea who was out there, if they were bad or good … or human.
The drawer closed, clicking into place. A shiver of electricity danced over my skin, radiating from Luc. Tension poured from his body, electrifying the small space. Could he tell I was about to sneeze? Was he reading my—
It happened.
My entire body jerked as the sneeze came out as a small achew.
“Shit,” Luc muttered.
Eyes wide, I jerked my head back just in time to see the woman in front of the dresser spin toward the closet doors.
Everything happened so fast.
Luc shoved me back as the closet door swung open, slamming into the wall. A whitish, snapping energy powered down his arm, spitting sparks into the air around us as the woman lifted her arm. A bolt of Source left Luc’s outstretched hand.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
The woman screamed as her body spun around, arms pinwheeling. A gun. She’d been holding a gun before it flew into the air along with something white, and then both fell to the carpet as she hit the bed, clutching her shoulder.
Luc staggered into me, and my arms went around him, trying to catch him, but it was no use. He was too large and heavy. I was hit with a wicked sense of déjà vu as Luc went down onto one knee, his grunt of pain sending a jolt of pure terror through me as his weight dragged me down to the space between the closet and the bed.
No.
No way.
Red, nickel-sized holes appeared in the front of Luc’s shirt, and those holes quickly started to leak, running down the front of his stomach.
“No!” I shouted as I gripped his shoulder. This wasn’t possible. This was Luc. He couldn’t be shot. “No.”
That word didn’t change reality. Luc—oh God—Luc had been shot. Three times. Horror gripped me with icy talons.
I can’t do this without him.
The voice that entered my thoughts sounded like mine but wasn’t and carried a heaviness that felt like years in the making.
Panic exploded as Luc rolled onto his back, eyes screwed tightly shut and lips thinned. The glow of the Source flickered around his arm and then went out as the veins under his eyes filled with brilliant white light, becoming visible under the skin. Those holes—those wounds—seemed to be spreading. I placed my hands over them, trying to staunch the flow of … reddish-blue blood.
“Luc,” I whispered. He was powerful. He was a freaking superhuman, but he had been shot in the chest three times, and he had a heart in that wrecked chest. I’d felt it beating, and one of the holes—oh God—
I cut those thoughts off.
Luc was going to be okay. He had to, because I could not lose him. Not like this. Not ever again—
The woman rolled off the bed onto the other side. My wide gaze swung around the room, spotting the gun lying a few feet in front of me.
Scrambling forward on my knees, I snatched the gun up as the woman rose, swaying unsteadily. The metal pressed into my palm as I leaped to my feet and I got my first real good look at her. She was older, with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. I’d never seen April’s mom. This woman didn’t look like her, except for the ghoulish red lips, but who else could it be? One hand was pressed into her shoulder. Blood poured down her arm.
She screamed, rushing me, and I …
Instinct roared to the surface, taking over. My brain clicked off as I leveled the gun and pulled the trigger. I didn’t hear the crack of the gun firing, but the bullet struck true. The woman jerked backward, arms going limp as she fell onto the bed, sliding about an inch or so before stopping. Her chest didn’t move. Her eyes were open, wide and unseeing. Her forehead …
A haze of familiarity crept along the edges of my thoughts, just out of reach of me grasping it and making sense of it. There was this sense of being here before—having done this before? That couldn’t be right, though. I’d never even held a gun before.
I sure as hell had never shot anyone before, but a voice whispered at the edge of my subconscious. You pick up a gun, you aim to kill. Not to wound. To kill. That voice … it was familiar …
Slowly, I lowered the gun.
“Evie,” Luc groaned, and I jerked as his pained voice snapped me into action.
“Luc!” Whipping around, I dropped to the floor beside him, placing the gun on the floor next to me. I reached for him, pulling up his shirt. A slice of panic cut through me as I saw the three wounds. One on the left side of his chest, entirely too close to where his heart was. One on the right. Another just below. Blood trailed down his stomach, glimmering blue in the light.
His eyes were open, those pupils a brilliant white as he lifted his head off the floor. “This was … my favorite shirt.”
“What?” I laughed, but it came out as a strangled sob. I touched his forehead, brushing his hair back and leaving a smudge of blood behind—his blood. “It’s just a stupid shirt, Luc. You’re bleeding badly. You’ve been—”
“Poked full of holes. I know.”
“Tell me what I need to do,” I begged, because I knew it wasn’t like I could call 911. “Because this can’t be good.”
“Get my phone out of my pocket. The right one. It’ll be unlocked. And call Grayson. It’s not that bad, so he can fix this.”
“Not that bad? You have three bullet holes in your chest!” I shouted at him as I reached into his right pocket, pulling out his phone and quickly finding Grayson’s number.
The Luxen answered on the first ring. “Yo.”
“Luc’s been shot,” I said.
“So? Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Wouldn’t be the first time? What? My gaze swung to Luc’s pale face. “He’s been shot multiple times in the chest, you asshole!”
Luc’s chuckle ended in a groan. “Ouch.”
“You should’ve said that first.” Grayson hung up.
“I think he’s coming.” I slipped his phone into my back pocket.
“He’s coming. With his help, I’ll heal … faster, but…” Lifting one arm, his brow pinched as the whitish-blue light swallowed his hand. “You may want to look away, because this is … gonna be gross.”
There was no way I was going to even blink, because I feared if I did, he would stop talking, stop breathing, and I couldn’t risk that.
“I’ve got to get these bullets out. There’s something … off about them.” Luc’s jaw clenched, and h
is head kicked back against the carpet as his hand trembled and the light of the Source pulsed. A heartbeat later, his back arched and then three bullets tore free from his chest, hovering under his palm.
My mouth dropped open as I fell back on my ass. “Holy shit.”
I couldn’t even believe what I was seeing, and I’d seen Luc do some crazy stuff before. Rip up trees from the roots. Throw Micah several feet through the ground. Recover from injuries that would kill a human in under a nanosecond. But this …
Luc collapsed back, breathing heavily. “Fun times.”
“How?” I pitched forward, grasping his hand. “How did you do that?”
“Special,” he gasped, his pupils ultra-white as he looked at me. “I’m not a … weapons expert, but they don’t look like normal bullets to you, do they?”
The bloodied, small, cylindrical bullets were … odd. The rounded tips were clear, and inside was something that looked like blue light or water.
“No.” I watched his hand close around them. “Shouldn’t they look more … used?”
“I think so. Something must’ve gone wrong with them.” A trickle of blood seeped out the corner of his lip. “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head as I quickly wiped away the smear of blood along his mouth. “For what?”
“You having to shoot her. I should’ve taken her out.”
Muscles along my back locked up as I brought his hand to my chest. “It’s not your fault. I sneezed like an idiot, and I had to do it. Right? She shot at you immediately, before she could even see who you were. She had to be bad, right?”
“Right.”
His eyes closed, and my heart stopped.
“Luc! Open your eyes. Please.”
When he did, his pupils were black once more, and all the blood seemed to have drained from his face.
“I’ve seen you get impaled with branches and get back up, but—”
“Something is up with the bullets.”
“What—”
“Well, this is a freaking mess,” Grayson announced from the doorway, and then he was beside Luc, checking out his chest. “Can it wait until we get you out of here?”
“He can’t wait.” I squeezed Luc’s hand. “Fix him.”
The Burning Shadow Page 25
