The Brightest Night

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  I took a heavy breath. “You did everything you could.”

  “I know.” He continued to rub his hands together. “There are some injuries even I can’t heal. He was dead before his body even hit that table in there.”

  “Did you…” Hairs all over my body began to rise. My gaze left Luc’s profile and zeroed in on the doorway. “Did you know him? Spencer?”

  “Just in passing.” He turned off the water, and I felt his gaze on me. “You okay?”

  The humming in my chest grew stronger. “Do you feel that?”

  “Feel what?”

  A scream rang out from the dining room. “He’s dead? Oh my God! He’s dead.”

  Luc was at the door faster than me, but I was right behind him. I saw several things at once. Viv was sitting on a wooden chair in the corner, her bloodied hands clasped together under her chin. Jeremy and Georgie were spreading a navy-blue sheet over Spencer while Eaton stood beside Viv. Three women stood in the doorway, two humans and a Luxen. One had gray hair flowing to her shoulders. I recognized her from the photos. Doris. She had her arm around the other human girl, the one who’d screamed. Hands covered her mouth as she trembled against the older woman. The woman with pale skin and eyes a golden hue was a Luxen. The rainbow aura gave that away.

  Doris comforted the girl, making soft soothing noises as she started to move her back to the door where another girl stood. It took me a moment to recognize her. There were two main reasons for that. First being the weird, rippling overlay effect that briefly obscured her features, as if there were two of her standing in the same spot—one light, one dark.

  And the second reason was because when that aura disappeared, she looked different. The last time I’d seen her, her blond hair had been limp, she’d had veins that looked like black snakes, and she’d been spewing a blackish-blue bile everywhere before she’d jumped out of the window of Luc’s club.

  I suddenly knew exactly what I’d been feeling in this house the whole time. It hadn’t been Hunter who had caused my skin to prickle and crawl. It had been her.

  Sarah, the sick human who’d mutated into a Trojan and then disappeared, stood before us.

  24

  “This day literally cannot get any more messed up,” Luc growled, and then to me, This is what you felt?

  Yes. I knew that without a doubt.

  I didn’t feel her. At all.

  That wasn’t good, but I wasn’t surprised. After all, a Trojan would go undetected, wouldn’t it?

  “You’re looking a lot better since the last time I saw you,” Luc said.

  Sarah didn’t seem to hear Luc—didn’t seem to even know he was there. She stared at me, her head cocked to the side like a dog catching a note only it could hear.

  “What’s going on here?” the pale-skinned Luxen asked, her dark brows furrowing as she moved to stand in front of what she believed were three humans.

  “Just long-lost friends coming together for a chat.” Luc moved a foot forward. “Why don’t you take Doris and the very traumatized human girl out for some fresh air, Zouhour? Georgie will help you. And while you’re at it, I think the doc could benefit from that. What do you think, Eaton?”

  “I’m thinking we all could use some fresh air.” Eaton stood like a rod as he made eye contact with Jeremy.

  Confusion flickered over Zouhour’s face, but she thankfully listened. She started to turn to Sarah, to include her—

  “Nah, not her.” Luc’s tone was calm, even pleasing. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Eaton take Viv by the elbow, bringing her to her feet. “She’s going to stay.”

  “A walk sounds really nice, the more I think about it.” Eaton led Viv around to the other doorway. “I know a good place. The long way down by the river.”

  Whatever Eaton said meant something to more than half of the people in the room. Faces went impressively blank, one after the other, like a row of dominoes.

  Zouhour’s grip on the crying girl tightened. She’d taken one step, and I saw Sarah’s gaze shift to her.

  Instinct fired warnings left and right, and I felt the Source building in my chest, expanding and stretching. The other in me, the Source, retracted into the center of my chest, tightening and curling. My heart rate kicked up, sending my pulse into overdrive.

  I’ve been looking for you. Her voice was a sudden intrusion, like talons in my mind. I jerked back a step. Our massster is very displeassed.

  The Source pulsed and then began to unfurl, filling my veins. I tasted it in the back of my throat again. Heated metal and stone. It was happening so fast—the Source was taking control, seizing hold of muscles and nerves, responding to the presence of another Trojan.

  A threat.

  A challenge.

  My fingers twitched as my vision seemed to sharpen, and deep inside me, where the Source radiated, a door was opening.

  I didn’t know what the end result was going to be, whether I would remain or if I was about to become something else. Panic didn’t have the chance to even set in. There were only seconds for me to warn Luc.

  It’s happening, I told him. Get everyone out of here. Now.

  An audible gasp came from the female Luxen, and the gravelly curse that followed was all Eaton.

  Sarah blinked, and her irises were pools of onyx, the pupil a bright star.

  And then the proverbial poo hit the fan.

  Framed photographs floated into the air as inky shadows edged in white light spilled out from Sarah. Those in the room scattered, all except Luc. He …

  Stupid, idiotic knight in shining armor grabbed my arm, thrusting me back behind him as Sarah stepped toward me. A crackling, spitting, intense white light erupted from Luc. He was powerful, unthinkably so, but Sarah was a Trojan.

  And a Trojan’s power was unfathomable.

  No.

  I would not allow him to be hurt.

  Absolutely not.

  The door in me flung all the way open, and raw, potent power flooded my system. My skin came alive as tiny, glittering spots appeared and my mind collapsed into the Source, into instinct.

  I pushed—pushed hard with my mind, shoving Luc and everyone in the room out. There was nothing any of them could do. Not even … him. Purple Eyes. I shoved them all out not just from the room but out of the house, and there was just her and me.

  The Source receded from her as she slid her hand into her pocket, pulling out something black, something like a key fob. The small device sparked memories of pain and loss. Different hands had held that. A small, feminine one. A larger, punishing one. The device hurt. It stole. A growling hiss crawled its way out of my throat.

  Never again. Never again. Never again.

  I moved like a cobra striking, catching her wrist and twisting. A bone cracked, and her scream of rage turned to pain. Her fingers spasmed, and I snatched the device out of her hand. As I closed my fist around it, the Source throbbed in an icy, burning pulse. I opened my hand.

  Dust fell to the scarred floor.

  She watched the particles fall for a moment and then her gaze lifted to mine. A heartbeat passed, and then she spun, taking off through the house.

  Wiping off my palm, I followed after her, passing through a living room and then out the front door, onto a porch.

  People were there, backing away. Humans. Luxen. Others.

  Faces.

  Names.

  One kept them back. Amber Eyes. She kept them back as I went down the steps, wood creaking under my feet. I scanned the area, finding the Trojan caught between a blond Luxen and him. Purple Eyes. His head cranked in my direction.

  The Trojan shifted toward him, the Source sparking to life along its hand.

  I knelt, slamming my hand into the packed, dry earth.

  “Shit,” Purple Eyes grunted. “Get back, Grayson.”

  Too late.

  The ground split, spilling the scent of fresh soil into the air as the tear raced across the space, splitting into two as it reached the three of them, branching of
f and digging down deep. I opened the ground up under their feet, sucking them deep and out of the Trojan’s reach. Their shouts faded to background noise as the Trojan started toward the humans—toward the Amber Eyes who guarded them.

  I wouldn’t do that.

  The Trojan’s muscles tensed, toe turning to point in their direction as its head shot back to me. The Source sparked from my body, charging the atmosphere. Static poured into the air around me. Wind picked up, lifting my hair as the sky darkened above us, full of thick clouds.

  “Jesus,” someone whispered.

  “Jesus ain’t got nuttin’ to do with this,” another responded.

  The Trojan’s hand opened, and the sky erupted in intense white light. A bolt of lightning struck the space between her and them. Another came and then another. Someone screamed, but the sound was lost. Thunder exploded, rattling the windows and the house behind me. The blinding lightning strike receded. Grass smoked, and the Trojan was running toward a distant tree line, her blond hair a flag streaming behind her.

  Primal instinct kicked in, the urge to chase, to hunt greater than the desire to end this. I took off after her, and she was fast, but I was faster.

  Crashing into her from behind, I brought her down, my hand on the back of her head. She grunted as I slammed her face into the hard ground.

  The Source pulsed out from her. I’d made a mistake. Got too close. I knew better. The power expanded, thrusting into me like a speeding freight train. It threw me back, slamming me into a tree. Pain flared all along the back of my skull. I slid down, catching myself before I fell. Wetness tickled down my neck.

  She scrambled forward on her hands and knees before springing to her feet. She took off again, and so did I.

  A bolt of Source cut through the trees. Bark splintered beside me, tiny pieces slicing my cheek. As I slid to a stop, the tree behind me ripped from the ground, thick clumps of dirt hanging from roots as it winged toward me. I hit the ground as it flew over, scant inches above me. Lifting my head, I caught sight of the tree and stopped it. The tree hung suspended, needles showering the ground as I shifted my gaze to where the Trojan popped out into a beam of sunlight. I sent the tree spinning toward her.

  She jumped to the side but wasn’t fast enough. The roots smacked into her, the speed ripping into her skin and flesh. She stumbled backward into another tree, writhing. Her eyes widened, and I recognized the glaze. There was pain, but behind it was something far more potent.

  Fear.

  Smiling, I pushed up and rose to my feet. She slipped around the tree, and then she was running once more. I started after her, slow at first and then picking up my pace.

  The trees were a blur as she cut between them, darting in and out of streams of lights breaking through the heavy branches, and then we exploded out from them, cutting through the tall reeds of an open field. Houses loomed up ahead, rows and rows of identical flat, one-story homes.

  She cut to the left, heading straight for the first house. The front door swung open, ripping off its hinges as she raced up the cracked driveway. She entered the house, and I slowed, my gaze flickering over it. Boarded-up windows. Tears in the roof. My senses crept out from me as I stalked across the porch. The house was empty except for her, and the air was dusty, stale. I walked through a barren, dark room.

  Shouts came from the outside, but they meant nothing to me as I tracked the Trojan through the house, to the kitchen stripped of appliances and counters.

  I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of dirt and blood. I wondered if she would run again. The corners of my lips curved up. I hoped so. My body thrummed with the possibility. It would be far too easy. She was wounded, but wounded prey was still fun.

  I prowled forward.

  Breathing heavily, the Trojan backed up as she wiped the blackish-blue blood from below her mouth. She didn’t engage, though there was opportunity and weapons. Floorboards she could rip up. A ceiling she could bring down on me. Discarded tools that could cut and maybe even kill.

  She used none of that, still moving away from me, her chest rising and falling.

  I halted in the center, studying her. Why?

  She seemed to understand what I was asking. “I don’t know how.”

  My lip curled.

  “They haven’t trained me.” She wiped at the blood again. “Taught me just the basics. I’m supposed to…”

  Sssupposssed to what?

  “Find you.” She lowered her hand. “See if the Cassio Wave works this time. If it did, I was to bring you back with me.”

  And if not?

  Her breathing slowed. “Then I had failed. You know what that means.”

  I wasn’t sure. My brain was a chasm of memories and thoughts, needs and desires. I slipped past them, past the glimpses of laughter and eyes the color of amethyst jewels, shoving aside grief-soaked images to the one where he stood behind me, his hands on my shoulders.

  I knew that man.

  Jason Dasher.

  And I also knew I did not like when he stood behind me. Only a fool would take their eyes off him. He could move as fast as any of us, even faster.

  “Failure,” he said into my ear. “Failure is the option of those who court death. I do not, will not tolerate it. Look. Open your eyes and look to see what failure is.”

  I opened my eyes, and before me was what remained of another like me, clothing and skin soaked with blood, the white floor stained with a river of crimson that seeped to the center, to a rust-colored drain. The blood slowed there, forming a grotesque and shocking pool of wasted life and infinite, soulless ambition.

  Hatred filled my chest, and with the Source, it found a home. I curled my hands into fists. My gaze met hers. She stared at me in silence, eyes black except for white pupils. She did nothing, said not a word from there.

  The Source spilled out from me, rippling in shadows of dusk over my body. The taste of burned ozone coated the insides of my mouth. My skin crackled as the Source pulled and pulled. Wind roared through the room, whipping my hair across my cheeks as it lifted anything not bolted down. Hammers. Broken chairs. Dirt-covered tables. Empty bottles. Trash. All of it became weightless.

  I became weightless as all that power saturated the air around me, turning the room to shades of dusk and dawn. Glass cracked and shattered. A great wrenching shook the house as the roof peeled back like a page turning in an ancient book, revealing dark storm clouds.

  “Evie!” someone shouted, voice close by.

  Sarah stepped forward, whitish-black light erupting from her palm—

  The whirling cyclone of energy, a combustive mix of power and hatred, rose inside me, and it found a target. I let the Source build until it burned my skin and crowded my insides, leaving almost no room to breathe, for my heart to beat, and then, when I could no longer hold it in, I let it go.

  The burst of power left me in a wave. Flung up and outward, the explosion of the Source was more than a bomb detonating. Once released, the Source was a concussive force, simply disintegrating whatever was in its path the moment the shadowy light reached it. Brick. Plaster. Wood. Cloth. Steel. All of it turned to glittering ash, surrounding me like a thousand fireflies, slowly drifting to the ground, where no worn carpet stained by years of living existed. No subfloor or crawl space. The sparkling ash blanketed the reddish-brown clay and loam that lay several feet from where I hovered.

  I stared at the spot where she had stood. Nothing was there. Not even ash. A keen sense of satisfaction swept through me.

  She failed.

  I had not.

  I smiled as I surveyed what remained. The absolute destruction seemed to be limited to the ground below where I floated; however, the blast had released a shock wave, shaking the nearby homes and shattering some of their windows. Curtains now drifted out of the gaping holes and into the silence of the built-upon hills and valleys overlooking a steel tomb of a city.

  “You can fly?” a tiny voice asked.

  Strands of my hair lifted off my shoul
ders, flowing out and around me as my gaze lowered.

  A small child stood barefoot on the cracked sidewalk, a young girl of four or five. She wore overalls, the legs rolled up and one strap unbuckled and hanging loose, revealing the blue shirt covered with yellow-and-white daisies. Her hair reminded me of the darkest chocolate, too wild to be kept in the pigtails that were desperately trying to rein in the waves and curls. A fluffy stuffed llama was clutched to her chest as she stared up at me with wide, stunning eyes the color of violets.

  Her eyes reminded me of something.

  Of someone.

  “Can you?” she asked, creeping closer to the edge of the sidewalk, to where the raw earth was exposed.

  Could I? “I’m not sure.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “You should try to find out.”

  The little girl was right. I should try to find out. So I willed myself forward, toward her, and I drifted through the air.

  “You can fly!” Her heart-shaped face broke out a wide, uninhibited smile as she shoved a little fist in the air and hugged the llama closer.

  The corners of my lips tilted up. “I can.”

  “I wish I could fly. I can only make other people fly. I’ve tried to do it myself, but Mama got real sad when I tried, and Daddy yelled.” Her nose scrunched. “It’s the only time I’ve heard Daddy yell.” She lifted her llama to her chin. “Did you do this?”

  “I did.”

  “Is your daddy going to yell?”

  “I…” I wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I don’t have a daddy.”

  “But you have two names.” An impish grin appeared. “I want two names.”

  I did have two names, because I was two people, and I was something other.

  “Ashley! Oh my God!” A woman raced up the sidewalk, a fuzzy pink blanket gripped in one hand as hair the same dark chocolate color streamed out from behind her.

  The little girl named Ashley glanced at the woman. “Mama is gonna cry again.” The devilish grin reappeared when she looked back at me. “I was supposed to be napping, but I felt you.”

  The woman only spared me a brief glance before she scooped up the little girl in her arms. She backed away, pressing the blanket to the girl’s back. The woman looked at me then, her gaze never leaving me as she moved farther away.