A story?
That was not what I’d come here for. I wanted to know what he knew about my mom—about what secrets she could possibly be keeping. But the moment I stepped inside the slightly chilly room and Luc flipped on an overhead light, I wasn’t thinking about what he could know.
This was not the kind of dingy apartment I was expecting.
My wide gaze traveled across the long length of the room. With the exception of two doors, which I guessed led to a bathroom and maybe a closet, the large space was entirely open. There was a huge living room with one of those deep moon-pit-style couches seated in front of shuttered, floor-length windows. A massive TV sat across from it, perched on a metal-and-glass stand. Floors were hardwood throughout, and flowed into a bedroom. The bed—oh my—the bed was on a raised platform. Two long wooden dressers butted up one side of the room, next to a clean desk. Only a laptop sat on the surface.
Looking around, I saw nothing personal. No pictures. No posters. The walls were all bare. Luc brushed past me as I stepped in farther and spied a guitar in the corner, by the TV.
Luc played the guitar?
I peeked at him. He was walking into the kitchen area, one long-fingered hand trailing over what appeared to be a slab of slate countertop. Did he play the guitar shirtless?
I rolled my eyes. I did not need to know the answer to that question. “This is your place?”
“Yep.” He walked to a stainless-steel fridge.
I shook my head. “How is that possible? How do you own this—own the club? You’re only eighteen and I didn’t think Luxen could own property?”
“They can’t, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t found a way around those laws. My name isn’t on any documentation, but all of this is mine.”
“You mean it belonged to your parents?”
He laughed under his breath. “I don’t have parents.”
I frowned. Luxen totally had parents, but then I figured out what that must’ve meant. Luc’s parents were dead, either before the invasion or during. Maybe they had—
“They didn’t leave me money, either,” he cut in, and my eyes narrowed. “I knew a guy once who had been really good with money. His name was Paris. Learned a lot from him.”
Paris? What an odd name. Sounded familiar. Wait. That was a real person in history, right? “Where is Paris now?”
“Dead.”
“Oh. I’m . . . I’m sorry.”
His back was stiff as he lifted a hand, thrusting his fingers through his hair. “Do you know? Wait. Of course you don’t.” He laughed, dropping his hand as he twisted. “Paris was like a father to me. He was a good man, and I . . . I got him killed. That’s not an exaggeration. I involved him in something—something reckless, before the invasion, and he died for it.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“I’ll get back to that part. You want to know why I keep saying I’m not a Luxen? It’s because I’m not.”
I cocked my head to the side and folded my arms. “Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because it’s the truth.” He faced me, and I sort of wished he’d kept his back to me. “I’m an Origin.”
I blinked once and then twice. “You’re a what?”
One side of his lips kicked up. “An Origin. The offspring of a Luxen and a mutated human.”
Several moments passed as I stared at him. “A mutated human?” A hoarse laugh escaped me. “You know what, I think I just need to find Kent and—Holy crap.”
Luc was suddenly right there, towering over me. He wasn’t touching me, but he was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his bare skin. “I have no reason to lie to you. None. You need to understand that I have absolutely nothing to gain.” His gaze met mine. “And everything to lose by telling you what the vast majority of the world doesn’t know.”
I swallowed as I held his stare. “What do you have to lose?”
A long moment passed before he answered. “Everything.”
My heart lurched in my chest. “Then why would you risk everything by telling me anything?”
“Good question.” His head tilted slightly. “But you want to the truth and I’m feeling chatty. The question is: Are you willing to listen?”
Part of me want to find my bag and get the hell out of here, but I did want the truth and I could decide when this was all over if he was lying or not. I nodded. “I’m willing to listen.”
“Perfect.” He turned, and in a blink of an eye, he was in front of the fridge, door open. He grabbed two Cokes. “There’s a lot the public doesn’t know.”
Our fingers brushed as I took the Coke he offered me. I thought about what my mom had said about the public not knowing everything. My grip on the can tightened. “Does it have to do with the group my father worked in? The Daedalus?”
A wry twist of his lips appeared as he nodded. “Why don’t you take a seat?”
Exhaling roughly, I looked around and decided the couch was the safest place. I walked over and sat on the edge. It was a wide and deep couch, and if I scooted all the way back, I’d have to roll out of it.
“Your mother told you that the Luxen had been here for a while, right? And that the Daedalus worked on assimilating them into society, hiding them. That’s not all they did.” Luc strode past me, placing his unopened can on the end table. “You see, the Luxen are hard to kill, something the world learned during the invasion.”
Shivering, I twisted and watched him.
“It’s not just because they’re powerful, able to tap into what they call the Source and utilize it as a weapon.” Luc stopped by a dresser, yanking a drawer open. “It’s also because they can use it to heal themselves, which is what Chas did when he returned to his true form. But the really interesting thing is what they can do to humans with that power.”
“Kill them?” I asked, popping open the can.
He chuckled as he pulled out a long-sleeve black shirt. Thank God. “They can heal humans.”
My hand jerked, and carbonated goodness seeped over my fingers. “What?”
As he pulled the shirt over his head, I looked away before I got caught up in watching all those muscles start doing weird and interesting things. “Luxen can heal anything from minor scrapes to near-fatal gunshot wounds. Of course, they have to want to do that, and most never did before the invasion, because their way of life—their safety—harbored on the fact that humans didn’t know they existed. Running around and healing people with their hands is going to draw attention. People who did know the truth ended up disappearing. Even now. People who know the truth go missing. The truth is dangerous.”
A shudder worked its way through me. And now I was going to know the truth.
Tugging the hem of his shirt down, he faced me. The shirt only helped a little. “And healing humans can have strange side effects. If they healed a human multiple times or if it was a massive job, like legit saving someone’s life, it could change the human.”
I took a sip of the soda as Luc made his way back to the couch. “Mutate them?”
“Yep.” He sat down next to me. “In some cases, not all, the human would take on some of the Luxen’s characteristics, able to use the Source. They would be stronger and they wouldn’t get sick.”
I mouthed that word. Hybrid. It sounded like something straight out of a science-fiction novel. “But those hybrids are still . . . human, right?”
“Yes? No?” He shrugged. “I guess that’s up for debate, but what isn’t is that everything changed once the Daedalus realized the Luxen didn’t get sick and that they could heal humans. Groups like the Daedalus started out with the best of intentions. They studied the Luxen, seeing if they could use their genetics to cure human diseases, everything from”—exhaling roughly, he looked away—“the common cold to certain cancers. The Daedalus knew the key to eradicating diseases was in Luxen DNA. They developed treatments and serums derived from Luxen DNA. Some of them worked.” Another terse pause. “Some of them didn’t.”
Stunned, I stayed quiet and listened.
“It blew the door off what was possible when they learned that the Luxen could mutate humans, turning that human into a hybrid of sorts.
“Sometimes the human wouldn’t mutate. They’d become normal again. Other times they . . . sort of self-destructed. There’s some . . . mysticism involved in the mutation of a human, so the Daedalus studied that, coming up with treatments to insure that the mutations took hold. The Daedalus was dedicated to improving human life. They were doing some good. For a while.”
I had a feeling things were going to take a sharp turn.
“Studies turned into experiments, the kind that violated probably every level of ethics that ever existed. It didn’t take long for them to realize that a Luxen could breed with a human he’d mutated, producing children that were in many ways more powerful than a Luxen.” He paused. “And the Daedalus experimented on them—many generations of those children. Keeping some around. Destroying others who didn’t meet their expectations.”
Revulsion rolled through me as I leaned forward, placing my can on the floor. “Oh my God.”
“Many of those children never met their parents.” Luc’s features sharpened like a blade. “Then . . . the Daedalus was partnered with the Defense Department. It became more about creating soldiers than about curing diseases. Entire generations of those children grew up in labs and hidden facilities. Some never stepping outside. Many died in the same twelve-by-twelve room they were raised in. Others were planted into the military, government positions—billion-dollar companies.”
My jaw was practically in my lap. This was . . . This was wow.
He put his hand on the couch beside my thigh and leaned in. “Whatever passion some of those doctors had in the beginning became twisted.” Slowly, he lifted his gaze to mine, and I sucked in an unsteady breath. “Especially when they started forcing the breeding.”
Sick to my stomach, I wanted to look away from Luc, but it felt like that was like looking away from the truth, from what I knew he was going to say.
Luc lifted his arm and slowly began rolling the sleeve of his shirt up, exposing a powerful forearm. He looked over his shoulder, raising his other hand. Something flew off the kitchen countertop and landed in his hand. I realized it was a knife, a very sharp one.
I tensed.
“When you cut a Luxen, they will heal in a couple of minutes, sometimes longer, depending on how deep.” The sharp point hovered over his taut skin. “When you cut a hybrid, they, too, will heal. Not as fast, but definitely quicker than a human.”
I clasped my hands together. “Luc—”
Too late.
Pressing down, he dragged the knife over his skin, slicing deep. Bluish-red blood beaded on his flesh. Before I could launch myself off the couch to grab towels, the skin closed over the wound, sealing up.
“Holy crap.” No blood. No cut. It was like he hadn’t just sliced his skin open. My gaze shot to his.
“But a child of a Luxen and a hybrid—an Origin—heals immediately.”
Understanding flared to life as I glanced down at his arm and then back to his striking face. “You . . . You’re one of those kids?”
He nodded and then leaned to the side, placing the knife on the end table. “Watch.”
I was so watching.
A faint white glow appeared over his pointer finger. Leaning away, my eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Don’t—”
“It’s okay.” The light washed over his hand, licking down his arm. “Origins aren’t transparent. . . .” He grinned. “Like jellyfish.”
I could see that. His arm was fully formed underneath the intense light.
“Origins’ eyes are like mine. Same color. Same kind of pupils.”
I forced my gaze to his. Who had eyes like his? They guy I’d seen with Chas. “Archer. He’s an Origin?”
As Luc nodded, the glow warmed his features like he was leaning over a candle. That explained the weirdness of his pupils, something I’d never seen on a Luxen. “There used to be more Origins. There aren’t . . . many left.”
I bit down on my lip. “What happened to them?”
Luc didn’t answer for a long moment. “That’s another story for another day.”
My gaze flicked up his face and then back to the whitish glow humming over his hand. Some bizarre, innate urge to touch him—the light—woke up inside me.
“You can,” he said, voice low and deep. “You can touch it. You won’t be hurt.”
My heart skipped a beat as I lifted my hand. “Can . . . can Origins read minds?”
A secretive smile played over his lips. “Some of us can.”
Oh hell no. I froze. “Can you?”
“I can.”
I started to draw back. I’d been right all along. Good Lord, the kind of stuff I thought around him? The bad? The really bad? The really embarrassing?
“I try not to do it. Like, I don’t go peeping in people’s thoughts. Sometimes I can’t help it, especially when a person is broadcasting loudly.” His gaze met mine. “You are . . . quiet most of the time. I’ve only picked up a few things unintentionally. Just parts of thoughts.”
“Why would I believe you’re not reading my mind on purpose?” If I had that ability, I’d totally be doing it every five seconds.
The light around his hand pulsed. “Because if I did read your mind, I probably wouldn’t like what I found.”
Startled by his blunt honesty, I was at a loss for words. Part of me wanted to apologize.
“Touch the light,” he coaxed. “I know you want to. And it’s not from reading your mind. It’s written all over your face.”
Luc was right.
I wanted to.
Probably a sign of insanity.
Swallowing hard, I reached out. Time seemed to slow as my fingers neared the glow. The air was warm around his hand. Not hot. Tensing, I tipped forward. My fingers parted the light, and a jolt of electricity danced over my skin. The light spread from Luc to me. It felt like a soft hum.
My breath caught.
Touching the light didn’t hurt. Not at all. It felt like I was running my fingers through sunbaked air. Little tendrils of light flicked out, curling around my hand.
This wasn’t just light, though. It was power—pure power that could be harnessed into a weapon—a weapon that had killed my father.
I pulled my hand free, pressing my palm into my leg.
The light dimmed until Luc’s hand and arm looked normal. His pupils looked weird once more, as if they were stretching.
I cleared my throat. “What else can you do?”
Luc didn’t answer for a long moment. He just looked at me in a way that made me feel like I was some kind of jigsaw puzzle he couldn’t piece together. Our gazes collided and held. My breath caught. Something . . . something hot and unwanted flared to life between us.
His throat worked on a swallow as he looked away. “We’re susceptible to the same weapons as the Luxen—Tasers and electric pulse guns are not our friends. Anyway, everything that a Luxen can do, we can do better.”
“Wow.” I laughed, pushing the odd feeling aside. “That’s extremely modest of you.”
A small grin appeared. “I knew someone once who said modesty was for saints and losers.”
My brows lifted. “That sounds like someone who was very grounded. And likable.”
Luc chuckled. “If you only knew . . .”
Silence fell around us, and I had so many questions. Like an entire night’s worth of them. “So you . . . you never met your parents?”
Luc shook his head. “Nope. Pretty sure they’re both dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
He raised a shoulder as he rolled his sleeve back down.
I was staring at him, at the planes and angles of his face. I knew I shouldn’t ask this, but kind of couldn’t help myself. “Did you grow up in one of the labs?”
“I did.” His lashes lifted.
“What . . . was that like?”
He looked away, and I didn’t think he’d answer. “It was like nothing. There was no sense of . . . self.” His jaw worked as his gaze trekked over the bare walls of his apartment. “There were no friends. No family. No worth beyond what we were created for. An Origin was just a single entity, but at the same time, all Origins were the entity. We were kind of like computers in a way. All of us. Programmed from birth to obey until . . .”
“Until what?” I asked quietly, innately knowing this wasn’t something he talked about a lot. Maybe ever.
He was still staring at the empty walls. “Until I became self-aware. Sort of like Skynet. You know, Terminator? I just woke up one day and was like, I’m smarter, faster, and deadlier than those who created me. Why was I letting them tell me when I could eat and sleep, when I could leave my room and when I could go to the bathroom? So I stopped obeying.”
I imagined that didn’t involve him just walking out a door. “What were you created for?”
“The basics,” he replied. “World domination.”
I choked on a laugh. “That’s basics?”
“Isn’t that what every idiot who goes down the wrong path in life wants? Maybe it doesn’t start out that way. The Daedalus believed they were on the good side. They’re the heroes in the story, but before they know it, they’re the villains. Same with the Luxen who invaded Earth. They wanted to dominate, because they thought they were the better species. And the Daedalus? They wanted a perfect army, a perfect government—a perfect species. That was us. That was me.”
“God, Luc. I’m so—”
“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” He looked at me. “You have nothing to do with any of that.”
“I know, but . . .” Pressure clamped down on my chest. “Did my parents have anything to do with those experiments?”
“Are you really ready for that answer?”
My breath caught. “I am.”
“Jason was one of the people who oversaw the Daedalus. He knew exactly what they were doing and how they were doing it.”
I already suspected as much, based on what Mom had told me, but still, that was a punch to the stomach. “And Mom?”
He picked up his soda, popping open the lid. “I never saw Sylvia at any of the facilities, but there is no way she didn’t know what they were doing—what her husband was doing. She may not have been part of any of the experiments, but she was sure as hell complicit.”
I didn’t want to believe that. Mom was a good person.
“Good people do terrible things when they believe in what they’re doing,” Luc commented.
“You’re reading my mind.”
He turned his head toward me. “You’re broadcasting very loudly.”
My eyes narrowed.
One side of his lips tipped up. “I’m not saying Sylvia is a bad person. There were a lot of decent people in the Daedalus who believed they were making the future a brighter, safer place.”
“But . . . that doesn’t make what they did okay. What you’ve described to me is horrific.”
“It was.” His eyes met mine. “And I didn’t even tell you half of what they were responsible for.”
My stomach twisted as I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t picture Mom knowing about forced breeding and children being raised in cells, and being okay with that. If so, it was . . . It was sickening, and I wasn’t that surprised that Mom had left all of this out when she told me about the Daedalus.
“You know what I’ve realized?”
“What?” I opened my eyes again.
Luc watched me. “Most people are capable of doing horrible things or looking away from them while they’re doing amazing things. People aren’t one-dimensional.”
“I know, but . . .” I trailed off, staring at my hands. My mom was kind of my hero. She was badass and strong. She kept it together after the invasion and Dad’s death. I didn’t want her tainted like this, but it was too late. The truth had a way of erasing the past you knew.
Smoothing my hands over my legs, I exhaled roughly.
“I mentioned a man’s name earlier. Paris? I said that I got him killed. That’s true,” Luc said quietly as he rose from the couch, and I turned my attention back to him. He was staring at me, his eyes a little wide. “And the really messed-up part of it? He knew what he was getting into. He knew why I was risking him, risking everyone, and he went along with it. And I know if there was a rewind button on life, he would’ve done the same thing—if not for me, for her.”
I had no idea what he was really talking about, but there was no mistaking the hint of pain and sorrow that pinched his striking features. “Who is . . . her?”
“That’s the story I’m going to tell you.” He paused. “If you still think you have the brain space for it.”
I nodded slowly. “I think I do.”
He backed up and leaned against the wall. In that moment, he looked almost normal. Like he could be any teenage boy out there, but it was his eyes that set him apart. Not the color, but what was in them. An aged weariness churned in the purplish hues.
“I knew a girl once,” he said. A wry grin appeared on his lips. “You know that saying, right? All great stories start with a girl? It’s true, and this girl . . . she was special. Not because she was the most beautiful. Not that she wasn’t, because I thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, but that wasn’t what made her special. She was the kindest and strongest human I’d ever met. She was brilliant and she was a fighter, surviving unimaginable things.”
A twinge of sorrow blossomed in my chest. I already knew this story wouldn’t have a happy ending.
His eyes drifted shut as he tipped his head back against the wall. “She was probably my only real friend—no, she was my only true friend. She wasn’t like me—an Origin. She wasn’t Luxen or a hybrid. She was just a human girl, a tiny thing, who had run away from her home just outside of Hagerstown—a house without a mother, and a father who cared more about getting drunk and high than he did caring for his child.”
Hagerstown? That was where I was from—where I lived before the invasion. What a hell of a coincidence. The world truly was small sometimes.
Luc continued, his eyes still closed. “Somehow she made it from Hagerstown to Martinsburg, a town in West Virginia. I didn’t find her. Paris did, and yes, he was a Luxen. He came across her one night. I don’t even remember what he was doing, but I guess he felt bad for her, so he brought her back with him. She was this filthy, mouthy little thing, about two years younger than me.” The grin appeared again, this time a little sad. “I didn’t like her very much at first.”
“Of course,” I murmured, trying to picture a much younger Luc.
“She never listened to anything Paris or I told her, and no matter how annoyed I’d get with her, she was my . . .” He let out a heavy breath. “She was my shadow. Paris used to call her my pet. Which is kind of offensive when you think about it now, but yeah . . .” A shoulder lifted. “We tried to keep what we were a secret from her, because this was before the invasion, but that lasted all of about fifteen seconds. She wasn’t scared when she learned the truth. If anything, it just made her extraordinarily curious . . . and more annoying.”
A small grin tugged at my lips as I picked up my soda. Now I pictured a young Luc with an impish little girl tagging along behind him.
“Eventually, she grew on me.” The sad smile returned. “She was like a little sister I never wanted, and then as she grew older, as we grew older, she became something entirely different to me.” His eyes closed as a shudder worked its way through him. “I respected her before I even really knew what respect meant. She’d been through so much in such a short life. Things that even I couldn’t comprehend, and I was never quite worthy of her—of her friendship, her acceptance and loyalty.”
A knot formed in my throat. “What was her name?”
His striking eyes held mine as his head tilted to the side. “Nadia. Her name was Nadia.”
“That’s a pretty name.” I toyed with the tab on my soda can. “What . . . what happened to her?”
“Jason Dasher.”
A piercing pain hit my chest as I looked away. I’d known it before I’d even asked it, hadn’t I? My father—the man who I’d just learned was responsible for horrible experiments on innocent Luxen and humans.
My mother’s words came back to me. He made sure that Luc lost someone very dear to him. Oh God. My father had done something to this girl—this girl who Luc spoke of so reverently that it was obvious he had been madly in love with her even at a young age. And probably still was, even though it was painfully clear she was nothing more than a ghost now.
“You apologized at the lake for what he did, but you don’t know what he did. Sylvia does, but she hasn’t told you.”
Curiosity filled me, but so did a hefty dose of dread. I wanted to know, so I would just have to deal with whatever terrible things my father had done. “What did he do?”
He stopped in front of me and knelt with the fluid grace of a dancer. “There is so much you do not know or understand.”
“Then tell me,” I insisted, my fingers denting the can.
A shadow flickered over his features. “I don’t know if—” Luc stopped and turned his head toward the door. A second later there was a knock. “One moment.” Sighing, he rose and went to the door. Grayson stood on the other side. “I thought I made it pretty clear I didn’t want any interruptions?”
Widening my eyes, I lifted my soda and took a sip.
Grayson cast a dismissive glance in my direction. “Unfortunately, this couldn’t wait. It has to do with the . . . packages that were left here last night.”
Packages? Wait. Hadn’t that one guy with the gorgeous green eyes mentioned packages? Daemon was his name.
“What’s going on?” Luc demanded.
Grayson sighed as he glanced to where I sat. “Let’s just say they ran into some unexpected problems.”
“Dammit.” Luc was already on his feet, walking toward the door. “Sorry,” he said to me. “I need to handle this.”
“It’s okay.” Bad timing, but I totally understood.
He hesitated for a moment. “This may take a while.”
In other words, I needed to leave. I stood. “All right. I guess. . . .” My gaze met his, and I didn’t know how to say good-bye after everything I’d learned.
Luc turned to Grayson. “I’ll be right there.”
Grayson looked like he rather not leave, but he pivoted stiffly and then disappeared from my sight. Luc faced me, his gaze searching mine as I inched forward. “Are you okay with everything?”
I placed the soda on the counter and nodded. “Yeah. I mean, it’s a lot to learn, but I . . . I believe you.” And I did. All that information was a lot to make up, and I couldn’t fathom why he’d lie about any of it. “I have a feeling, though, that there’s more.”
He looked down at me. “There is.” His body moved, and before I knew what he was doing, the very tips of his fingers touched my cheek. The contact carried a muted static charge. He lowered his head, and I felt his nose brush my other cheek. When he spoke, his tone was oddly rough. “Peaches.”
I inhaled sharply. “It’s . . . it’s my lotion.”
“You’ve said that before.” Luc lingered there, his warm breath puffing against my skin. “I’ll call you, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered, feeling like every breath I took wasn’t enough.
He pulled back, letting his fingers slip from my cheek. “Kent will see you out.”
I looked behind him, and yep, there was Kent standing in the hallway, holding my bag. I could feel my face heat as I walked out of the room.
Kent grinned at me.
Feeling about seven different kinds of awkward, I turned to say good-bye to Luc, but he wasn’t there. “Whoa.” I twisted back to Kent. “Where’d he go?”
“He’s fast.” Kent handed me my bag.
I glanced up and down the hall. It was empty. “Is he invisible?”
Kent laughed. “Sometimes it feels that way. Come on, honeybuns. I’ll lead you out.”
Honeybuns? I had no idea how to respond to that, so we got to walking, all the way down the six flights of stairs. The club floor was empty as he led me to the entrance. I didn’t see Clyde or anyone else.
“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again,” Kent said, opening the front door.
“Yeah.” I gripped the strap of my bag. “Um, thanks for keeping my bag . . . safe.”
He grinned. “It was an honor, Evie.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Bye.”
“Peace out.”
My head felt like it was in a million places as I walked out to where I’d parked. I unlocked the door and sat inside, placing my bag on the passenger seat. I hit the ignition button and then looked over at the closed red doors.
An Origin—Luc was an Origin. Something I didn’t even know existed until an hour ago. And there were hybrids. Good Lord. I slowly shook my head as I wrapped my hands around the steering wheel. Closing my eyes, I squeezed the wheel. What had my father down to that girl? To Nadia? My mom had to know. I couldn’t ask her. If I did, then she’d know I’d talked to Luc, and I seriously doubted she’d be okay with that.
And there was more he hadn’t told me? What else . . . ?
Someone knocked on my window, causing me to gasp. My eyes flew open. “Holy crap,” I whispered.
Chas stood outside my car.
It was definitely Chas, minus the bloody and beaten face. As he stood there peering through the window, his hands on the roof of my car, he didn’t even look like he’d been within an inch of his life a handful of days ago.
I hit the window button, sliding the window down. “Hey.”
His gaze, an intense shade of blue, flickered over my face. “You were there—Saturday. When I was found?”
Glancing behind him and not seeing Luc or Kent, I nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry about what happened to you, but I’m glad to see you’re . . . doing better.”
“Thanks.” He stared down at me. “You’re name is Evie, right?”
I nodded again. I had no idea why he was out here, talking to me.
He looked to his left and his shoulders tensed. Those eerie, intense eyes focused on mine. “You need to stay away from here.”
Caught off guard by the statement, I jolted. “Excuse me?”
Chas knelt down so we were at eye level. “I know you don’t know me, but you saw what happened to me. You need to stay away from here. You need to stay away from Luc.”