For the second time in I don’t even know how many hours, I woke up and had no idea how I’d gotten where I was, but I recognized the damn brick walls.
Luc’s place.
Jackknifing upright, I scanned the dimly lit room. For a moment I thought I was alone until I saw Luc rise from the couch like a wraith.
“You’re awake,” he said, his voice flat. Distant.
I scooted to the edge of the bed. “Why am I here?”
“Well . . .” He walked around the couch but stopped at the edge of the raised platform. “I believe you might’ve knocked yourself out by . . . running into a parked car.”
“I did?” A brief image of running panicked into the darkness surfaced. I sighed. “I did.”
“You took a pretty nasty hit to the head.” He leaned against the back of the couch, staying to the shadows of the room. “You weren’t seriously injured, but I . . . I fixed it.”
“With your special magic healing fingers?”
“Something like that.”
I pushed my hair back. I couldn’t believe I’d actually knocked myself out by running into a car. God officially hated me.
“I once knew of a girl who walked out in front of a speeding truck,” he said. “Well, that’s the story I heard.”
Walking out in front of a moving truck sounded a lot better than running into a parked car and knocking myself out. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Not really.” A moment paused. “We were only a moment behind you. Zoe wanted to give you space. Well, the illusion of space. I shouldn’t have listened to her. If I’d just gone after you, you wouldn’t have seen that.”
I looked over at him, my stomach turning. “The body—”
“The police were called. I think they’re still there. The party was shut down.”
A shudder worked its way through me. “Did you . . . hear who it was?”
“Yeah.”
When that was all he said, dread set in. I clasped my knees. “Who was it?”
“Some guy who went to your school. I think his name was Andy. At least that’s what Zoe said.”
“God,” I whispered, looking away. Andy was one of the guys who’d been eyeballing the young Luxen at school. What I knew about Andy wasn’t good, but I wouldn’t want him or anyone to die like that. It was terrible.
I folded my arms across my stomach. “This is going to make stuff at school so much worse.”
“Probably,” he agreed. “The Origin must’ve followed you there.”
I frowned. “I don’t think it was him, though. I saw something there. I think—no, I know I saw an Arum.”
“What?” He pushed away from the couch, nearing the platform.
I squeezed my knees. “It was just like Kent and Emery said it would look. I thought it was just shadows at first, but then the shadows moved and thickened. The temperature dropped and . . . there was something there.” I shivered. “That’s why I ran.”
“An Arum can’t kill a human like that. They can assimilate some of the Luxen ability if they feed, but when they kill a human, it doesn’t look like what happened to the guy. It had to be a Luxen or an Origin.” He paused. “Or possibly a hybrid, but let’s stick to the first two as possible suspects. And we already know there’s a ticked-off Origin murdering people.”
“I know what I saw. It wasn’t my imagination. And before I saw the body, I heard my name, but—”
“It was in your head?” he interrupted. “The Arum, when in their true form, speak on a different wavelength. It sounds like it’s in your head, but that’s just how your human ears process the sound. But that doesn’t explain how an Arum would know your name.”
“It doesn’t.” I lifted a shoulder. “Then again, maybe another one of my friends is an Arum for all I know. It could be James.”
He snorted. “Arums don’t interact with humans on that kind of level. They stick to themselves. Usually in dark, damp places.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” The moment that came out of my mouth, I tensed. I couldn’t just believe what he said. Not now.
Luc exhaled roughly. “The Arum could’ve sensed the Origin and was tracking him, but instead of finding the Origin, the Arum found you.”
“And I ran.”
“Into a parked car.”
I shot him a look.
“Running was the smart thing to do. That’s what you need to do if you ever come face-to-face with an Arum or a Luxen who is trying to hurt you,” he stated. “You cannot possibly fight them. There is no training a human can do to be able to take one out. Running is why you’re still alive.”
“Well, this convo is making me feel a lot better about everything.”
“It’s just the truth. It’s not meant to make you feel better.”
All righty, then. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it wasn’t even midnight yet. “Where is . . . Where is Zoe?”
“She’s here. Not down in the club, since it’s open, but she’s here.” His shoulders seemed to tense. “Do you want me to get her?”
“No,” I replied quickly, standing. “I don’t want to see her.”
Luc folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t be so tough on her.”
“Excuse me?” I turned to him slowly.
“Don’t be so tough on Zoe. The girl cares about you—”
“She lied to me! Are you serious right now?”
“Zoe lied to you, because what could she tell you, Peaches? There was nothing she could do without you thinking she was crazy. You were never supposed to find out the truth.”
“Well, I did, didn’t I?” Anger rose swiftly. “And don’t call me that.”
“The fact that she’s an Origin and knows the truth about who you are doesn’t change that she’s your friend.”
In the back of my mind, I knew Luc had a point. Hell, he was probably right, but I wasn’t ready to face that. “It’s the fact that everyone I know and care about has been lying to me. That’s just not something you easily forgive.”
“But you could try understanding.”
Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. “Whatever.”
“Whatever? Fine. Let’s move this conversation to something else that’s important.”
“Oh great,” I snapped. “Can’t wait to hear this.”
He ignored me as he stepped up on the platform. “What in the hell were you thinking? There is a psychotic Origin on the loose and what do you do? You spend all day driving around, practically wearing a neon ‘come break my other arm’ sign.”
“I—”
“Then you go home, leave your freaking house in a mess, scaring the shit out of Sylvia, causing her to think something happened to you.”
My eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“Because I was there, watching over you to make sure you didn’t end up dead.”
“Oh my God, that’s not okay! I told you that I didn’t want you doing it. You could’ve had Grayson or Daemon—”
“Pretty sure after the stunt you pulled this morning, that was enough punishment for Daemon,” he shot back, eyes afire. “And then you go to a party. A party, knowing there’s an Origin who apparently wants to use you in some cliché revenge plot? Are you out of your mind?”
I was about five seconds from being out of my mind. “Why am I even here with you? I told you I didn’t want to see you again.”
His lips twisted into a smirk. “Do you want me to take you home then, to Sylvia?”
“No.”
“Then congrats, you’re stuck with me.”
Turning to him, I closed my hands into fists. “That doesn’t mean I have to stand here and listen to you.”
“Damn straight you do. What you did tonight, by going to that party, was absolutely, fundamentally—”
“Want to use another adverb?”
“Yeah.” His jaw locked down. “How about irresponsibly, recklessly, and carelessly immature?”
I sucked in a stuttered breath. “You’re acting like I just found out today that my parents are getting divorced and I’m overreacting.”
“I don’t think you’re overreacting. I cannot even fathom what you must be thinking or feeling, but that doesn’t mean you made smart choices today.” Luc’s lips formed a thin, hard line. “I didn’t spend half of my godforsaken life trying to keep you alive for you to just throw it all away!”
I sucked in air, and something, something exploded inside of me, like a buckshot, and I got right up in his face, putting my hands on his chest. He caught my wrists. “I don’t belong to you, Luc! My life doesn’t belong to you! No matter what you did for me.”
Luc drew back as if I’d slapped him. “I never said you did.”
My entire body was trembling. “I want to make something very clear. My name is Evelyn. You can call me Evie. That is who I am, no . . . no matter who I used to be.”
“I know,” he said solemnly, his gaze never leaving mine. “Nadia doesn’t exist. Not anymore.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what happened next. Maybe he pulled my hands back to him, or maybe that was all me, but suddenly my palms were flat against his chest. He was wearing a shirt, but the heat of his body seemed to burn through the cloth, searing my palms.
Neither of us moved.
We both seemed frozen, and then Luc did move. He lifted a hand, placing it over mine—over the hand that rested above his heart.
My gaze darted to his and I found it difficult to breathe. The fluttering was back in my ruined chest, overshadowing the wrecked feeling that threatened to pull me under and never let me resurface. The fluttering rapidly became something else, a burning and tingling that spread much, much lower.
My fingers curled into his shirt. What was I doing?
Luc was, well, he was Luc. He wasn’t even really human. As I stared up at him, I had to admit to myself that I’d stopped caring about the whole not-being-human thing after the first time I’d seen him shirtless.
I was that shallow.
I fully accepted that.
Whatever.
But what was I thinking?
I was thinking about stretching up on the tips of my toes and kissing him. That was what I was thinking about. And I didn’t want to think anymore—think about who I really was or all the lies that now made up my life.
I just wanted to feel—feel what I never did when I was with Brandon. I just wanted to feel—feel real. Like I was a person who existed and who had a past and a future.
Luc’s eyes flared a sudden deep and stunning violet. His gaze lowered to my mouth. An intense emotion rolled across his face. Luc let go of my hand and stepped back, but for once I was quicker than him. I stretched up and slid my hands up his chest, to his shoulders, and I brought my mouth to his.
I kissed Luc.
The first touch of our lips was like hitting a live wire. Little darts of pleasure shot through my veins as the flutter in my chest spread lower. My lips tingled from the contact and my skin flushed, and Luc . . . he just stood there, as still as a statue.
He wasn’t kissing me back.
He wasn’t doing anything.
Oh holy Lord, what was I doing? I was kissing Luc, and he wasn’t even touching me. His hands were at his sides, and I was hanging on to him like a feral octopus.
I needed help.
Serious help.
I let go and rocked back a step and then two. My legs bumped into the bed. The wrong kind of heat—murky, sweltering heat—suffocated me while Luc stared at me like I’d lost my mind, and there was a good chance that I had.
I totally had.
His chest rose and fell sharply.
Mortification overcame me, and words stammered out. “I sh-shouldn’t have done that. I don’t even know why I did. So let’s pretend it never happened? Maybe it didn’t? Maybe this is a weird dream, and we’ll—”
Luc closed the small distance between us in less than a heartbeat. One arm folded around my waist as his other hand thrust through my hair, tangling up in the strands.
His mouth landed on mine, crashed into mine, and I might’ve stopped breathing. He pulled me up against him until only the tips of my toes remained on the carpet and all the interesting parts were nearly lined up, chest to chest, hip to hip.
Luc kissed me—kissed me as a deep sound rumbled from the back of his throat. The little shivers of pleasure intensified. My brain completely shut down as my senses were overwhelmed.
He shuddered against me, and my arms swept around him, my fingers digging into his arms and then in his soft, silky hair. The kiss deepened as the tip of his tongue touched mine.
I sparked.
His hand traveled down my back, creating a wave of maddening sensations throughout me. Vaguely, I thought the overhead light flipped on and then turned back off, but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t care. Not when his hands gripped my hips and he lifted me an inch or two and oh . . .
Thinking was so overrated.
His kisses were devouring and he kissed as if at any given second we’d be ripped apart and he was making the most of those precious seconds. But then Luc moved, and I didn’t even know how we ended up on the bed, but we were falling, topping backward. My back came flush with the bed, and my eyes flew open.
His eyes . . .
They were a beautiful shade of purple, and the pupils were as white and gleaming as freshly fallen snow.
He planted one hand in the bed beside my head and one knee next to my leg, supporting his weight as he hovered over me. “This kiss . . .” he said, voice thick. “This is beautiful too.”
My chest squeezed. I knew he was comparing this to our first kiss, the one I didn’t remember. The one I would never remember. They were the good memories Luc had. Memories I wouldn’t—
“Don’t.” Luc touched my cheek. “Don’t go back there, Peaches. Stay here.”
The crushing pressure eased off, replaced by a different sense of urgency. I wanted more than kissing. I wanted—
“What do you want?” he asked, his gaze holding mine.
“You,” I whispered, cheeks burning.
“You have me.” His thumb dragged along my lower lip. “You’ve always had me. Always.”
My breath caught around a sudden knot in my throat. Raw emotions threatened to rise up and consume me as tears burned the backs of my eyes. I gripped his shirt and pulled. He ducked his head, letting me pull his shirt off. My gaze roamed over his chest, his stomach, and lower.
I reached for him with a shaking hand. My fingers skimmed the dips and hard planes of his stomach, down to the button of his low-riding jeans. Blood thundered.
Catching my hand, Luc pushed it into the mattress, and then he was coming down, his hips settling between my legs and then he was sipping from my lips, kissing me in a way I’d never, ever been kissed before.
His hand left mine, trailing over my arm and then down, under my shirt. Those fingertips brushed over my skin, causing my back to arch. His mouth left mine, blazing a path over the line of my jaw and then down.
He made this deep, throaty sound as the bridge of his nose dragged along the side of my neck. “Peaches.”
I shivered.
“God.” He nipped at my skin, eliciting a sound from me I’d never made before. “I love peaches.”
Things kind of spun and spun from there. My shirt was gone, we were skin to skin, and my legs were wrapped around his moving hips. There was a popping sound in the room and a sudden scent of burnt plastic. Way, way back in my mind, I thought I should be concerned about that, but I was drowning in him, in us, and his skin . . . it was humming. I could feel it vibrating under my fingertips, against my own skin, and it was the strangest, most amazing feeling.
There was no room for thinking or feeling beyond this moment. Not when his mouth made its way back to mine, not when I was panting against his swollen lips, and I knew I was on the precipice of something major, something beautifully unknown, and then I was falling over that edge, tumbling and spinning. I was humming.
“Luc,” I said, gasping.
He suddenly stilled above me, his breath dancing over my lips, and I was waiting—wanting him to do more, want more. He cursed and wrenched away, flipping onto his back, onto the bed.
My eyes went wide, and I was once again staring at the ceiling, my entire body trembling as the pleasant, sultry haze faded. Slowly, I turned my head to look at him.
I sucked in air.
A faint, whitish shimmer surrounded his entire body. One arm was thrown over his face. The other hand was clenched, resting atop his heaving chest. My gaze dipped. His jeans were unbuttoned and shoved down his lean hips. Had I done that?
I so had.
“Luc,” I repeated.
“I need a moment.” His voice was rough, like sandpaper.
I waited a moment. “Luc.”
His knuckles looked like they were bleached white. “I can’t.”
All the liquid heat that had invaded my muscles vanished in an instant. Suddenly cold, I folded my arms over my bare chest and sat up. My hair fell forward, slipping over my shoulders. I shivered for a different reason. “Can’t what?”
Luc pulled his arm away from his face. His eyes were squeezed tight. “I can’t do this with you.”
A sickening sense of dread filled me. “I don’t understand. It sure . . . felt like you could. That we . . . that we would.”
He made this sound like he was in pain. “Your head is so messed up right now. Doing this feels like I’m taking advantage of you, because come tomorrow, you’re going to be pissed at me again,” he bit out, jaw clenched.
I hated to even think about it, but he kind of had a point there.
He sat up with startling speed and rose from the bed. He stood before me. His hair was a tumbled mess, his chest and stomach bare, those jeans unbuttoned. “I can’t do what I want to do to you, with you, when you don’t even know who you are.”