Shivering in the cooler air, I forced my eyes to stay open. I couldn’t let them close. He got . . . impatient when I closed them. He’d think I wasn’t paying attention, and he . . . had problems with that. Issues.
This guy had a lot of . . . issues.
He was sitting on the grass a few feet from me, cross-legged, and I was where he’d deposited me, against a tree. He’d dragged me out of the house, and it had been a blur because he moved so incredibly fast, but I didn’t think we went that far. I was sure we were in the woods that surrounded the subdivision.
I’d lost my shoes somewhere. I think on the road outside my house. One entire pant leg had been torn off all the way to my upper thigh, having snagged on a branch. Some of my skin had snagged too. That hadn’t stopped him. Neither did the moment the edge of my shirt got caught. My trembling hands held the shredded material together.
I was trying not to think of my mom and what kind of condition she was in, because if I did, I’d lose whatever precious control I had, and I couldn’t afford that right now if I wanted to survive this.
“He really has no idea who I am?” he asked, nose pinched. “At all?”
“No,” I whispered, wincing. Talking made my face throb.
The Origin exhaled loudly. “Well, that’s a blow to the ego. I shouldn’t be surprised, though.” He tilted his head back and stared up at the stars peeking through the bare branches. “He forgot about us more than once, but he won’t forget again.”
My head had taken a few knocks. Probably a few too many, because sometimes it felt like the ground was swaying under me, but I was starting to put things together.
“Why . . . why are you doing this?” I ignored the lancing pain along my jaw. “Why did you kill those people?”
“I already told you why.”
“But that family . . . and Andy—”
He frowned. “I didn’t kill them. I’m kind of offended that you think I run around aimlessly killing people.”
I opened my mouth, but I was unsure of how to respond to that, but why would he lie? He’d easily admitted to Colleen’s and Amanda’s murders.
“By the way, what should I call you? Evie? Nadia? Evelyn?” He paused, and I saw he pupils of his eyes burn white. “Peaches?”
I swallowed hard and croaked out, “Evie.”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
A tremor coursed down my arms. “You met me when I was—”
“When you were a young girl, dying of a disease? Yes. I met you very briefly. You came into the room I was placed in—we all were placed in—and you read to us.”
“I don’t—”
“Remember? I see.” He leaned forward, and I tensed. He could be soft-spoken and friendly, charming, even, but he was like a cobra striking. “I’ll remember for the both of us. You read Where the Wild Things Are after the world began to fall apart. We liked you.”
“It . . . it doesn’t make sense.”
His placed on hand on the ground by my foot. “What doesn’t, Evie?”
“You’re . . . one of them. One of those kids—” I gasped as his hand shot out and wrapped around my ankle.
“So, he did talk about us?” Interest filled his voice. He squeezed hard. “Evie?”
“Yes,” I said breathlessly, hands spasming around the ragged material of my shirt.
His hand slid up, fingers digging into the raw skin of my calf. “Tell me what he said?”
“It’s not possible,” I repeated, trembling as the pain arced up my leg. “You can’t be one of them.”
“Why? Because he killed us all?” He laughed. “Or because I don’t look like you’d expect a ten-year-old to look?”
I stared at him.
That smile didn’t fade. “We were all dark stars, but Luc . . . he was the darkest. Do you know what I mean?”
I didn’t.
But then he looked to the side. His lips parted. “Finally. Told you.” His gaze swung back to me. “He’d find us. After all, eventually that blond Luxen wouldn’t check in, and Luc . . . Well, he’s not stupid.”
Slowly, he lifted his hand from my leg and then rose with a fluid grace that was shockingly familiar. He turned, standing in front of me.
There was a weird part of me that knew when Luc drew close. I have no idea how I knew, but I did. There was relief. There was also stark terror.
I saw Luc prowl through the cluster of trees, catching a glimpse of him before the Origin in front of me shifted, blocking my view. My heart stuttered in my chest as I glanced around for a weapon of some sort. There were rocks. They wouldn’t do much, but they would be something.
The Origin’s hands moved to his sides, and I swore he trembled.
“Let me see her,” Luc demanded, his voice barely recognizable. It was coldly furious.
The Origin stiffened as if steel had been poured down his spine. “It’s always, always been about her. Some things never change. Fine.” He stepped aside. “Whatever. She’s still alive.”
I saw him, and I couldn’t explain the raw emotion expanding in my chest. There’d been many, many moments I thought I’d never see him again. Or my mother. Or my friends, but he stood there, shoulders straight and legs spread wide as if he were some kind of avenging angel about to lay waste to a world of sinners and saints.
Luc’s gaze flickered over me, from my dirt-caked feet to the mess that was my face. There was a tightening to his jaw, a hardening to his churning eyes. He took a step toward me.
“Don’t,” the Origin said. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”
Luc halted, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. “I already regret so much.” The black shirt he wore strained at the shoulders. “I should’ve known.”
“You know?” the Origin asked, turning sideway. Open wonder, as well as a measure of satisfaction, filled the Origin’s face.
“Part of me did, I think. I just couldn’t believe it.” Luc’s gaze held mine. “The Daedalus obviously didn’t give you the same serum they gave me. You’re not aging well. What did they give you?”
“What didn’t they give us? Maybe if you stayed around long enough, you would’ve noticed that we were different than you—than Archer and the rest. That what they gave us was aging us rapidly,” the Origin explained. “A souped-up version that included more than a dash of growth hormones. After all, if we aged more quickly, we would’ve been more useful, wouldn’t we? Imagine going through years of puberty in months. It’ll make you slightly moody.”
“And really psychotic? Is that your excuse? Is that why every last one of you turned into miniature serial killers in training?”
“It definitely had something to do with it, I imagine. You freed us and then you left us.” He looked over his shoulder. “For her. Then you came back and you gave up on us.”
Luc flinched. “I didn’t give up on you. I let you go. I let you escape, because I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“You killed all of them and you did let me go.” The Origin stepped away from me, his attention fully on Luc. “You didn’t look for me. You didn’t even take a second to find me. You rushed back here for her.”
Luc said nothing for a long moment as he stared at me. “I did look for you. You were gone.”
“Did you? You must think that. Just like you think you destroyed the Daedalus.”
The breath I took got stuck.
“Where do you think I’ve been this whole time?” he asked, and Luc didn’t show a single reaction to the suggestion the Daedalus was still operational. “Took me long enough to get here, but you don’t know that. You’ve had other, more important priorities. But I’ve been here. Shadowing you. Watching. I’ve been so close, trying to figure out how you could just”—he looked up to the sky and shrugged—“let me go. But then I saw her at the club and I knew.”
“I let you escape, because I was operating under the false belief that you weren’t a sociopath. That out of all those little creeps, you were the one who was going to make it. Obviously I was wrong. You’re just as psychotic.”
My eyes widened slightly.
“So, what’s the point of all of this? You came and you found me, then you waited, and now what? We’re here. You and me. That’s what you wanted,” Luc continued. “Let her go, and then you and I can work this out.”
“If I let her go, I don’t think she’ll make it very far,” he replied. “And I’m not talking about what I did to her. I’m talking about what you had them do to her.”
I jolted.
Luc turned his head just the slightest. “What does that mean?”
“I’ve seen some things. Learned things,” he said, and I could hear the taunt in his voice. “You have no idea what’s coming. I do.”
Luc raised a single brow. “Well, that’s incredibly vague.”
“It’s really not.” He paused. “By the way, looked into her thoughts. She thinks I killed that family and that guy at some party. That wasn’t me.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that? Because you’re obviously a trusting and sane individual?”
“Perhaps I would be trusting and sane if you just paid attention. If you tried with me like you—”
“You’re right.” Regret tightened the lines of Luc’s face. “Maybe if I had done something differently, you would’ve turned out differently.”
“Maybe,” the Origin agreed, but then dipped his chin and smiled. “Then again, I was always smarter than the rest, wasn’t I? I hid it better. Even from you, the great and powerful Luc. The most powerful Origin ever created. The prize and ultimate disappointment of the Daedalus.”
“You’re starting to sound like a fan,” Luc replied, his tone bored.
“But I know the truth.” He circled Luc, coming to his back, and Luc still didn’t take his eyes off me. “There was one fatal flaw the Daedalus didn’t engineer out of you.”
“Is that so?” Luc murmured, his gaze dropping to my hands.
“Humanity,” he answered. “They didn’t eradicate that from you. That’s why you let me escape.”
Luc fell quiet as the Origin made it to his side, standing only a few feet from him.
“I want you to say it.” The Origin cocked his head, solely focused on Luc. “Say my name.”
I let go of one side of my shirt and reached over, placing my hand in the loose, rocky soil. I dug until I found a decent-sized rock.
“Your name no longer matters.” Then Luc looked at the Origin. “And you’re wrong about the humanity thing. It comes and goes. I just hide it better.”
I gasped as Luc struck.
Luc spun, grabbing the Origin by the collar of his shirt. For a second they were eye to eye, and then the Origin was flying backward. He slammed into the tree, the impact sending several branches to the ground. The Origin fell, shaking the ground.
Within an instant Luc was in front of me, his fingers splaying around my cheeks. “Peaches. God.” He tilted my head back as I clutched the rock. Warmth radiated from his fingers, easing the throbbing in my jaw.
He was healing me.
“I need you to get up and get out of here,” he said as the warmth poured down my spine. “It’s going to hurt. It’s going to be hard, but I need you to run as fast as you can—”
Luc shifted suddenly, covering my entire body with his, shielding me as something bright and hot hit him in the back. His entire body shuddered as the smell of burnt clothes and flesh stung my eyes. Pain tightened the lines of his striking face. I dropped the rock.
“Luc,” I whispered, realizing he’d been hit—hit with something bad. Panic blossomed in my chest as I reached out, grasping the front of his shirt.
He let out a roar of rage that would’ve sent anyone running, and he spun around, throwing his arms up. A terrible rumble shook the ground, knocking me onto my side. Tiny pieces of rock and clumps of dirt lifted up in the air. Trees all around us rattled as what was left of their leaves floated to the ground. A loud crack reverberated through the trees.
The Origin was standing several feet in front of Luc. “There it is. The great and powerful Origin known as Luc. I’m so scared.”
When Luc spoke. His voice was deep and booming, shaking my rib cage. “Oh, you should be.”
I slid backward off the ground without being touched.
He stalked toward him, skidding to a stop as the trees trembled with fury. Several of them snapped and lifted, their gnarly roots dripping clumps of soil as the rich scent of earth filled the air.
My God . . .
I made it to my knees just as one of the trees whipped out. I couldn’t see the Origin. I had no idea if the tree had hit him or not, but another one flew out. Several kept coming, piling on top of one another, shaking the ground every time they landed.
Luc lowered his arms and started to twist at his waist.
Trees exploded, sending rock and bark shooting in every direction. I didn’t even see Luc move. I was suddenly flat on my back and his body was over top mine as the jagged, sharp pieces rained down. He jerked, and his hands slipped from my shoulders as he fell to the side.
“Luc. Luc!” Confusion gave way as horror as I could see the dark stains spreading all along the front of his shirt at a rapid clip. “No. No!”
His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving. Under my hands, his chest felt still—too still. Bitter panic exploded. “Luc!”
“Oh, I think I might have broken him.” The Origin laughed softly. “Just a little.”
With my hands shaking, I cupped Luc’s cheeks. Blood trickled out of the corner of his lips. “Please. No. God, no.” Acute horror choked me. “No. No. Please.”
“I don’t think God is listening.” He was closer. The air heated around me. “I think God stopped listening a long time ago.”
Luc’s skin warmed under my palms. Faint white lines appeared, a soft glow in the darkness, and I cried out, remembering what the Luxen had looked like as they died. Was it the same for an Origin? I didn’t know.
Hatred rose from deep inside me, as fierce and bright as the brightest star in the night sky as I stared down into Luc’s face. No. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t fair. He saved me years ago, and now he would die because I couldn’t fight back. He was going die trying to protect me—dying and taking all the memories of us with him. Memories I suddenly, desperately knew I needed to learn, to know if those good memories he’d talked about had included me.
“This would’ve happened eventually,” the Origin said. “You’ll see.”
My cheeks felt damp. Tears coursed down them. My hands slipped off Luc’s chest to the ground. Under my palms were several thick pieces of bark. Sharp pieces. The same that had impaled Luc over and over, possibly killing him. My fingers curled around one of them.
“I didn’t want to do any of this.” The Origin’s voice sounded like lightning. “Not really.”
I never thought I could kill someone.
Maybe who I was before could’ve. I didn’t know, but it was something I never thought I was capable of purposefully doing.
Not until that moment.
I twisted and lifted my gaze. The Origin stood there, this thing that was some kind of creation that had gone horribly wrong. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”
He tilted his head to the side and frowned. “What do you know? You remember nothing.”
He was right. I remembered nothing, but I knew enough.
I didn’t give myself time to think about what I was doing. I launched to my feet, cocking my arm back. Surprise flickered across his face, and then that was all I let my brain register as I brought my arm forward with every ounce of strength I had in me, jabbing the piece of bark deep into his eye.
His scream was cut off as I jerked my arm back and slammed the bark into his other eye, ignoring the sound and feel. He went down on his knees, and I followed him as I started to pull the bark out, but it snapped off, embedded deep.
He shifted under me, a solid, heated mass. Bright light surrounded me and then went through me. Throwing my head back, I screamed as a deep, intense throbbing pain lit up the center of my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The pain and light swallowed me.
And then I was flying—spinning through the air. I caught brief glimpses of the sky and trees. When I hit the ground, it jolted every bone, but I barely . . . I barely felt it.
I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t move more than turning my head, and when that happened, it sort of just flopped to the side.
Something . . . something felt wet inside me, like I was drowning from the inside.
The sky erupted in a bright, intense light, and I thought I heard the Origin screaming. The air crackled and spat fire. Shapes took form and blurred as I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but there was a whiteness clinging to the corners. Day turned to night. A roaring sound deafened me as the entire world seemed to bend to the power charging every square inch. The light flared and pulsed. The air . . . The air smelled weird.
Then I saw Luc.
He slammed the Origin into the ground, through it. Dirt spewed into the air, a thick, musty-smelling cloud. Luc lifted him once more before driving the Origin deeper into the hard soil.
“Why?” Luc demanded, clutching the Origin’s throat as he lifted him out of the pit his body had made. Arms flopped limp and useless at his sides. “Why all of this, Micah?”
The name. I remembered Luc mentioning his name when he told me about the kids.
Micah coughed out a broken, bloody-sounding laugh. “Because I knew I couldn’t beat you. You’d do what I couldn’t.”
A horrifying moment ticked by and then Luc dropped him as if he were burned. “What?”
Half disappearing into the ground, Micah let out a groan. “You have no idea what is coming. Everything is over. Everything. I’m not going to be here for that. There’ll come a time when you’re . . .” His voice dropped, and I couldn’t hear what he said until his voice rose once more. “They’re already here.”
I saw Luc’s response.
He stared down at Micah, aghast. A heartbeat passed and then half his arm disappeared into the ground Micah had fallen into. There was a flash of intense light, and I knew . . . I knew Micah was no more.
Relief . . . bittersweet relief swept through me, and I closed my eyes. My heart felt sluggish, and there was a bone-deep cold settling into me.
“Peaches. Open your eyes.” Hands cupped my cheeks. Strong hands. Warm and alive. My eyes fluttered open again.
“How . . . how are you still alive after that?” I’d seen him—seen all the blood. How was he kneeling above me? “How?”
“Wasn’t my time.” His gaze roamed over me as he gathered me into his arms, pulling me to his chest. “Peaches, what did you do? Look at you.”
“I . . . I jabbed his eyeballs out.”
A choked sound left him as he folded one arm around my waist. “I saw that. Not going to forget that for a long time.”
My mouth felt weird, like my tongue was swollen. “I don’t . . . I don’t feel right.”
Luc lowered his forehead to mine as his hand slipped from my cheek, down to the center of my chest. “I’m going to make you feel better, okay?”
I thought I said okay. I wasn’t sure. The world was a whirling kaleidoscope of pain and heat . . . and Luc. There was a distinct impression of being here before, of him holding me as my body gave out, but then that fragment faded.
“I told you to run.” His voice was hoarse as heat flared from his palm, washing over me. I recognized the feeling, welcoming it as it beat back the coldness. The heat spread, working its way through tissue and bone. “Why didn’t you run? Peaches? Talk to me.”
It took a lot to focus on him. “I thought . . . I thought you were dying. I couldn’t let that happen. I wanted . . .”
Something wet danced off my cheek, and I didn’t know if they were my tears or his. “You wanted what?”
My head was heavy. “I wanted to know if . . . if I was part of . . . your good memories.”
Luc shuddered as he bent, curling his body around mine. His warmth was everywhere, filling every cell and part of me. “Yes,” he said, his lips moving against mine as he spoke. “You were all my good memories.”