The Burning Shadow (Origin Series)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “You need to text me later and tell me what he has,” she ordered.

  “Will do.” I waved goodbye to her and James, who, with his red-rimmed eyes and dazed stare, looked like he’d just woken up.

  James wiggled his fingers at me, yawning.

  Out in the hall, I hurried through the throng of students, making my way to the back entrance. It was way too easy to leave. All I had to do was open the doors and then walk out into the early October sun.

  I cut through the manicured lawn and then up the steep hill, heart thumping heavily. I really had no idea what Luc could have in a box. If it was some kind of pet, Mom would flip.

  She didn’t do animal hair of any kind, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about scales or furless pets in general.

  I trekked across the asphalt of the parking lot, the flutter intensifying in my chest as I spotted my car and the guy lounging against it.

  Luc stood with his long legs crossed at the ankles, leaning against the driver’s door. He was wearing that gray, slouchy knit beanie that I had a thing for and his reflective silver aviators. My steps slowed as my heart sped up.

  Today he wore a shirt that, ironically, featured a spaceship beaming someone up, and it said in bold, white letters, GET IN, LOSER.

  He was holding a box. A small white one wrapped in red ribbon. There was definitely not a kitten or a puppy in the box. It was only big enough that maybe a very large tarantula or a lizard would fit.

  I would straight-up knee him in the man parts if he had a damn furry spider in that box.

  He looked up as I approached, those full lips tilting in a small smile. “There you are. I was starting to worry that maybe I was going to have to come in there, raise some holy hell, and get you.”

  I eyed the box. “You do realize that I have at least two more classes?”

  “I do.” He pushed off the car and leaned in, his warm breath dancing over my ear as he said, “But what I have planned for you is much more fun.”

  The skipping motion danced through my insides. “Does it have to do with whatever is in the box?”

  “What’s in the box is just the beginning.”

  I stared at the box in his hand. There were no holes to let any amount of air into it. “Is it a panda?”

  “Don’t think a panda would fit in this.”

  “A koala bear, then?”

  “Dear God no. We’d all die if that were the case.”

  The corners of my lips curved up. “I don’t think koala bears are that aggressive.”

  “Yes, they are, Peaches. They’re demons disguised as fur balls. Ask an Australian.”

  “I don’t know any Australians.”

  “I do.” He shifted the box under his arm. “Let me see your car keys.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you need my keys, and what’s in the box? I thought you were worried about it suffocating.”

  “I need your keys because I’m taking you somewhere, and you’ll get the box once we’re in the car.”

  Perhaps I should turn right around and head back into school. That would be the smart thing. I shouldn’t be skipping, especially with Luc. But the curiosity got the best of me, as did something far stronger—something that felt familiar.

  “Okay,” I said, reaching into the pocket of my bag. I pulled out my keys, unlocked the car, and then handed them over to Luc. “If I get in trouble, I’m totally blaming you.”

  “It’ll be worth it.” He grinned as he slipped past me, opening the car door without even reaching for it.

  Lazy.

  Tossing my bag in the back seat, I hurried around the rear of the car and climbed into the passenger seat. The box was now in Luc’s lap, and it wasn’t moving around like there was anything in it.

  Anything alive, that is.

  Turning on the car, he looked over at me as he dragged his lower lip between his teeth. “You ready for your surprise?”

  I nodded.

  Luc handed the box over. “Be careful with it.”

  The box wasn’t light, but it wasn’t all that heavy, and as I placed it in my lap, nothing inside moved. I glanced over at Luc. “What’s in this box?”

  “It’ll ruin the surprise if I tell you.” He eased the car out of the parking space. “Open it.”

  Wary, I slipped my fingers under the red, satiny ribbon, sliding it off. Drawing a deep breath, I lifted the lid, prepared for something to spring out and sting me in the face.

  Then I saw what was in the box.

  I opened my mouth.

  I closed my mouth.

  And then a loud laugh burst out from me as I stared into it, not really believing what I was seeing.

  “His name is Diesel,” Luc explained as he pulled out of the parking lot, turning right. “He likes to be cuddled and held.”

  “Luc, it’s a…” Another laugh escaped me as I shook my head. I couldn’t believe what I was even staring at.

  It was a rock.

  A hand-size, oval-shaped rock nestled in cotton balls. And it wasn’t just a normal rock. It had a face—a face drawn by a black marker. Two round eyes that had purple eyeballs. Eyebrows. An angle-shaped nose. A wide smile. There was also a lightning bolt drawn above the right eyebrow.

  “It’s a rock, Luc.” I looked over at him.

  “His name is Diesel. Don’t judge him for the shape and form that he comes in.”

  I stared at him, mouth hanging open. “Was he attacked by Voldemort?”

  “Maybe.” That half grin appeared. “He’s lived a very interesting life.”

  Slowly shaking my head, it took me a couple of moments to even formulate a coherent response. “You made me leave school early because you had a rock for me?”

  “Now, Peaches, he’s a pet rock, and I didn’t make you do anything.”

  I gaped at him. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d heard the words pet and rock used in the same sentence.

  “And where was I supposed to keep him while I waited for you to get out of class?” he asked. “The trip to school already scared him since I was moving so fast.”

  “I don’t even know what to say right now,” I murmured. Diesel the pet rock smiled back up at me. “Thanks?”

  “You’re so very welcome.”

  I blinked as I stared down at the rock, fighting a silly grin, because this whole thing was just so stupid and silly that it was actually sort of amazing.

  “So, learn anything interesting in class today?” he asked, and when I looked up, I realized we were on Interstate 70, heading west.

  “Not really.” I held on to the box. “April was protesting again. We kind of got into it.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing much.” I stared out the window. Shopping centers gave way to tall elms and oaks, their leaves a stunning array of golds and reds. “She’s … I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t even understand how Zoe could’ve been friends with her.”

  “Zoe has amazing restraint.”

  “If you spent any time with April, you’d understand how amazing that restraint really is,” I said, looking over at him.

  It struck me then how much my life had changed in a matter of weeks. A little over a month ago, I couldn’t even fathom being in my car right now, going Lord knows where, with someone like Luc, while I was supposed to be sitting in class, stressing over what the hell I was going to do when I graduated. Every single aspect of my life, from the minor to the extreme, had changed. Some were in major ways, and others, like right now, were small and barely noticeable, but crept up on me.

  Evie from two months ago wouldn’t dare to do something like this. I didn’t skip school. Hell, I’d been almost too afraid to go into Foretoken the first night with Heidi.

  But now?

  This was an adventure. This was fun despite all the insane things that had happened and were sure to come. I needed this.

  I looked down at Diesel and smiled against the sudden burn in the back of my throat. I hadn’t realized until this very moment th
at I needed this—the goofy-as-hell pet rock and this trip to wherever.

  Glancing over at Luc, I wanted to hug him. Maybe do more. Like kiss him. Except that might cause him to wreck, and I liked my car.

  “Peaches?” Luc was waiting.

  Flushing, I was grateful that for once he didn’t appear to be peeping on my thoughts. “I just want to kick April in the face. That’s all I have to say.”

  He chuckled. “Please try to refrain from doing that, or at least make sure I’m there first to witness it.”

  Laughing, I let my head fall back against the seat. I saw a sign for US-340 West and, underneath it, the words Harpers Ferry. I repeated them absently. There was something familiar about it. I knew it was a town in West Virginia, but there was something more about it. Had I been here before or heard of the town? “Are we going there? Harpers Ferry?”

  “Yeah. We’re about thirty or so minutes out from there now. It’s a small, old town. Famous for John Brown, an abolitionist. When he raided the federal armory in town with the intention of arming the slaves, it basically led to the Civil War a year later.”

  All of that sounded familiar. The Civil War was covered extensively in class last year, but I couldn’t shake the odd tingling sensation at the nape of my neck.

  “It’s also kind of known for the fact that it sits right at the juncture of the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers,” he was saying. “Beautiful town, luckily virtually unscathed from the invasion.”

  I nodded, hearing what he was saying, but at the same time, consumed by the sense of being here before. But I knew I hadn’t. At least not that I remembered, so unless—

  Holy crap.

  Was I remembering coming here as Nadia? Or was it just common knowledge picked up in school buried in my subconscious?

  The tingling sensation increased throughout the remaining drive. The scenery was beautiful, especially when we crossed the bridge and I was able to see the town, off in the distance, situated on the face of the mountain that was a stunning kaleidoscope of yellows and burgundies. My fingers itched to grab my camera from the back seat, but I was frozen, soaking in the white-tipped waves of the river under the bridge and the view of a distant church.

  A nervousness lit up my veins. Stomach twisting in raw knots, I fell silent as Luc turned right at a small hotel and I got my first close look at the town as it dipped and rose, houses scattered over hills and valleys. He’d taken another right, and as we crested the next hill, the homes and businesses tightly stacked together struck a chord in me.

  Lower Town.

  I blinked, my fingers gripping the box in my lap. We were driving into what was called the lower town, a street packed with quaint restaurants and locally owned shops. How did I know that? Was that covered in class? Or …

  Reaching a stop sign, Luc waited until a group of people wearing sun visors and carrying cameras crossed. Tourists. He then turned left onto cobblestones and into the parking lot for what appeared to be a train station.

  “You okay over there?” Luc asked as he turned off the car.

  I nodded. “Yeah. It’s just … I don’t know. This place seems familiar, and I don’t know if it’s from school or if…”

  “Ask me, Evie.”

  I swallowed and slowly looked over at him. Luc had removed his sunglasses, tucking them into the visor. “Did we come here before?”

  Violet eyes met mine. “Yes.”

  I sucked in a short breath. “I feel like I know this place, but I don’t know if it’s because of school or something else.”

  Luc was quiet for a moment. “We came here a lot. Actually, it was one of your favorite places. There’s an old cemetery you liked to take pictures of.”

  A strangled-sounding laugh escaped me. “That’s dark.”

  His grin was quick. “The cemetery wasn’t what you loved the most.”

  “What was?”

  Looking away, he opened the driver’s door. “You’ll see.”

  For a good minute, I sat there, trying to decide if I was ready to do this. This was the first time I was truly going somewhere I used to frequent as Nadia, a place that meant something. What if I went wherever Luc was taking me and I didn’t feel anything? Just nothing?

  What if I felt something?

  The possibilities were equally terrifying, and while there was a tiny part of me that wanted to stay in the car with my pet rock, I wasn’t that Evie anymore.

  I couldn’t be that Evie anymore.

  With a shallow breath that did nothing to ease the pressure clamping down on my chest, I opened the door and climbed out, carefully placing the box on the seat.

  The window was cracked, but I left it like that. Luc was staring at me, and I grinned. “Letting air in, you know, so Diesel doesn’t get too hot.”

  A wide, beautiful smile traveled across his features, momentarily stunning me. It was a rare smile. A real one that reached his eyes, warming them.

  “Look at you, already thinking of Diesel.”

  Laughing, I closed the door and joined him. “So, where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” He started walking, and I knew he was slowing down his pace so I didn’t have to speed walk to keep up with him.

  We crossed over to the sidewalk, passing several places that were grilling or baking something that smelled amazing. Luc maneuvered us so that he was on the left, closest to the street, a weird move I didn’t fully understand. As we walked down the sidewalk, our progress hindered by the people taking pictures and their sweet old time, my left hand brushed his right, sending a jolt of awareness through me.

  Was he going to take my hand? And hold it?

  My heart gave a silly little skip at the thought.

  We hadn’t held hands before, at least not that I remembered.

  Then up ahead, to the right, I saw the Gothic-style church I’d spied from the bridge. As we grew closer, I could see how ancient it was, built out of reddish-tan stone, with white trim outlining the steeple.

  “That’s beautiful.” I could feel my eyes widening. “God, it has to be old.”

  “It’s St. Peter’s Church.”

  We stopped to cross the street, and I felt one of his fingers brush over the top of my hand. Heart thumping heavily, I turned my hand palm up, extending a finger along his. Luc didn’t hesitate. His fingers immediately closed around mine, his grip warm and strong. It was such a simple gesture, but it was huge to me.

  “I think it was built in the early 1800s,” he said, voice rougher than normal. “It’s also haunted.”

  My head snapped toward him. “What?”

  Luc was grinning as he led me across the street to the wide set of steep steps that led up to the church. “Yeah, supposedly by a priest or a nun … or a chupacabra.”

  “Chupacabra?” I laughed.

  “I think it was a priest or reverend. A man of the clergy.” He guided me to the stone courtyard of the church, past the crowds taking pictures. We were getting looks—well, he was. Not because of his eyes. Because of that face and his height. “We did a ghost tour down here once with Paris.”

  My smile faded at the mention of the deceased Luxen’s name.

  “You got so scared, you started crying.” Luc was looking ahead. “You made us leave halfway through the tour and take you home.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Never.” He slid me a sidelong glance, eyes twinkling with mischief.

  We went past the church, onto another narrower trail that consisted of earthen-stone steps leading up a rather steep hill surrounded by trees. To the right, there were stone ruins behind the trees, remnants of a brutal past. My calves were burning by the time we reached the halfway point, proof I needed to, like, walk more. Luc’s hand remained around mine, all the way to a collection of smooth boulders that a few people stood on.

  Immediately, I turned to our left and that tingling feeling from earlier resurfaced, but this time, it was all over my body, like I’d walked into a cobweb.

  “This is Jeff
erson Rock.” Luc nodded at the shale rocks that appeared precariously piled on top of one another, perched on the edge of the cliff. Four stone pillars held the top rock up.

  Luc was explaining why it was called Jefferson Rock, something to do with Thomas Jefferson, but there was a buzzing in my ears. A small child raced past us, toward the stone steps we’d just climbed, followed by a ragged-looking father.

  I was drawn to the rocks. Slipping my hand free from Luc’s, I walked over, legs jerky, and I stopped, placing a hand on the boulder as I stared out over the Shenandoah.

  I could never catch him.

  The words came out of nowhere, raising the tiny hairs all over my body. Dizziness swept over me, sudden and acute. Air seized in my lungs. I didn’t know if it was because of the height or—

  “Careful,” Luc murmured, suddenly beside me, a hand on my lower back. “Really don’t want to go diving after you.”

  I drew in a breath to speak, but nothing came out. White flashed behind my eyes, and suddenly, I didn’t see the roaring river down below or the blue, cloudless sky.

  I saw a boy running past the church and up those old, ancient steps. He was laughing, and the sun turned his hair bronze. He was running too fast, and I couldn’t catch up to him.

  I could never catch him.

  I tried—I always tried.

  And he let me catch him by the rock, when our clothing was covered with dust and sweat dotted our skin, and I’d kissed him. I’d stretched up on the tips of my red-and-white sneakers, looped scrawny arms around his neck, and I’d kissed him.

  The memory fragmented as quickly as it had formed, disappearing like raindrops in the sun.

  “Evie?” Concern filled his tone.

  “I…” I couldn’t catch my breath as I stared into his eyes—the eyes of the boy I kissed right here, years ago. “I remember.”

  6

  Luc had taken my hand again, leading me away from the people crowding Jefferson Rock, farther up the trail and to the grassy knoll that bordered the cemetery.

  Nothing about the irregular rows of white and gray tombstones was familiar to me. Some of them were decayed with age, others glossy and new, but the sensation of invisible fingers along the back of my neck continued.