The Burning Shadow

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  * * *

  “Is it true?” Zoe demanded the moment she appeared by my locker, her tight, honey-colored curls pulled back in an impeccably neat bun I could never master.

  Opening the door, I looked over at her. I had no idea what she was talking about. “Is what true?”

  “What?” She stared at me. Cocking her arm back, she punched me on the arm. “Are you serious?”

  “Ouch.” I rubbed at the spot. That wasn’t a light punch, but I was grateful for it, because things had been a little weird between Zoe and me this morning. Not bad or anything like that, but just like we both were walking on eggshells around each other. Not exactly a huge surprise there. I was still processing the fact that we hadn’t organically become friends or that not only was Zoe an Origin—like Luc—but that she had also known me when I’d been Nadia.

  Zoe was obviously worried that I was holding things against her, but I really wasn’t. Things were weird, but she was still my friend—one of my best friends, and I wasn’t going to let how our friendship started destroy what we made of it.

  Plus, almost dying made me realize how pointless grudges were while driving home the whole you-never-know-if-you’ll-have-a-tomorrow kind of thing. Unless holding a grudge involved April. With her, I was going to cuddle and feed and water that grudge.

  Zoe cocked her head. “You got into it with April this morning?”

  “Oh. Yeah. That.” Shaking out my arm, I pulled my English textbook out and shoved it onto the shelf.

  Zoe looked like she was going to hit me again, so I leaned away. “You had all morning to mention you got into it with April. I just heard some girl I’m not even convinced goes to school here talking about it while I was in the bathroom.”

  I grinned. “It wasn’t a big deal. She tried to talk to me, and I wasn’t having it.”

  Zoe caught my locker door as it started to close on its own. The orange and tan bangles around her slim wrist clattered softly. “Not a big deal? I need to know exactly what you said to her that apparently caused her to throw her poster at Brandon.”

  My brows shot up. “She did that?”

  She nodded. “Yep.”

  An evil little giggle rose in the back of my throat. I told her what I’d said to April as I grabbed my history textbook and shut the door. “I guess I got under her skin.”

  “Sounds like it. God, she’s the worst.”

  I nodded as we edged around a slow-moving younger student. “So, what did you do yesterday?”

  “Nothing much. Just watched this really sad documentary about coma patients.”

  Zoe watched the weirdest things.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “Luc came over,” I said in a low voice. “Mom made him grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

  “Wow.” She nudged my side. “That’s awesome.”

  “Well…”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “At first it was. He and I sort of hung out for a while first and talked.” I could feel my stupid cheeks warming. “But things went south between them pretty fast. They argued and it got ugly. Both ended up apologizing.”

  “Even Luc?” She sounded surprised.

  “Yep. I guess things are okay now, but they’re never going to be fans of each other.”

  “Really can’t blame them,” Zoe said. “They have a…”

  “Messed-up history? Yeah.” We entered the cafeteria. It smelled like burned pizza. “But I think it’s big that they both apologized. I think they’re going to try the best they can.”

  “I would’ve loved to have been a fly on the wall when you yelled at both of them,” Zoe said as we went through the line. “You’re scary when you get mad.”

  I laughed at that, because when I got mad, all I could do was yell. If Zoe or Luc got mad, they could burn down entire houses with a flick of their wrists. The idea of Zoe thinking I was scary was laughable.

  After I loaded my plate up with what I thought might be roast beef but sort of looked like stew, Zoe grabbed a pizza, and I tried not to puke over her poor life choice.

  James was already at the table, munching from a bag of chips. His size was super-intimidating to most, but he was a big cuddly teddy bear who hated confrontation … and Foretoken. Couldn’t quite blame him considering the one and only time he’d been there, he’d met the meanest Luxen ever.

  Grayson.

  Ugh.

  The Luxen had basically told James he’d reminded him of one of the victims in the old movie Hostel, and how creepy was that?

  As soon as we sat down, James demanded, “So, what is the best Taken movie? One. Two. Or three?”

  I stared at him.

  “There are three of them?” Zoe asked.

  His mouth gaped, and a chip fell out, causing me to giggle. “How do you not know there are three of them?”

  “I haven’t seen any of them,” I admitted.

  He blinked at me. “If I were wearing pearls, I’d be clutching them right now.”

  Heidi dropped into the seat next to James, her crimson-colored waves brushing against cheeks that were way paler than normal. Immediately, my stomach twisted as instinct blared a warning.

  Zoe must’ve picked up on it. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you guys know Ryan Hoar?” she asked, and my stomach sank. The last couple of weeks, when someone asked that, good news did not follow.

  Chip halfway to his mouth, James looked over at Heidi. “Yeah, he’s in my art class. Why?”

  “I don’t know who that is,” Zoe said.

  “He’s kind of tall and skinny. Usually changes his hair color a lot. I think the last time I saw it, it was green,” Heidi explained, and that sounded vaguely familiar.

  “Actually, it was blue on Friday,” James corrected. “I haven’t seen him yet. Art is my last class.”

  “You’re not going to see him,” Heidi said, placing her hands on the table. “I just heard from his cousin that he died over the weekend.”

  “What?” James dropped the bag of chips. “He was at Coop’s party Friday night.”

  Immediately, I thought of Micah. It couldn’t be, could it? Micah was dead, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t done it before Luc ended it. “Was he … killed?”

  “No.” Heidi shook her head. “He caught the flu or something and died from that.”

  “The flu?” James repeated as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard. “Like the sneezing and coughing flu?”

  Heidi nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Wow,” I murmured, unable to think of anyone I knew that had actually died from the flu.

  Zoe stared down at her plate. “That’s sad.”

  “Yeah,” Heidi agreed.

  James said nothing as he sat back, hands falling to his lap. A hush fell over us, and just like that, I learned … or I remembered that a natural death, an unexpected one, was just as heavy as an unnatural one.

  And death was a constant companion, with or without dangerous aliens.

  3

  “Touch it.”

  “Nope,” I said, focusing on the open textbook as I lay curled on my side. I’d been at Luc’s apartment for about an hour, and I needed to study because I had a feeling I was going to have a quiz in history, but within that hour’s time, I’d probably managed to read about one paragraph.

  If that.

  Not only was Luc incredibly distracting, I kept thinking about Ryan. I didn’t know him at all, but he still lingered in my thoughts. To die from the flu at such a young age? That was scary—scary and sad, and I could almost hear my mom’s voice in the back of my head, lecturing about the importance of flu shots.

  The school had already suffered too many losses.

  “Come on, Evie, touch it,” Luc cajoled, and I fought the way my lips twitched in response to his deep voice as I traced idle circles along the soft blanket.

  “No, thank you.”

  “I’m far more interesting than whatever you’re reading.”

  That statement was
annoyingly true. Reading about the Gettysburg Address, something I was confident was covered every single year in school, wasn’t exactly edge-of-your-seat reading.

  “Touch it,” he persisted. “Just a little. You know you want to, Peaches.”

  I lost the battle to ignore him and my gaze flicked from the textbook to the long, lean body stretched out beside me. He smiled, and a flutter picked up in my chest. That smile of his was as dangerous as the Source.

  “Touch it.” Luc let his head fall to the side.

  I shouldn’t be touching any part of Luc, because things with him had a tendency to spin spectacularly out of control in the best and worst possible way.

  “Peaches,” he murmured.

  “What do you…?” I trailed off as I saw what he wanted me to touch.

  The tip of one finger glowed bright white like a mini lightbulb. I sucked in a shallow breath, torn between wanting to pull away and inch closer. “Are you ET?”

  Luc chuckled. “I’m way hotter than ET.”

  “That’s not saying much, you realize that, right? ET is like this lumpy thing made of Play-Doh,” I said, staring at his finger. What I saw was no light. It was the Source, a power not from this Earth but brought here by the aliens. Only the Luxen, hybrids, and Origins could harness the energy to varying degrees. Some could heal with it. Some could move objects. All could kill with it.

  And Luc was adeptly skilled at all uses of the Source.

  “Why do you want me to touch it?” I asked.

  “It’s a surprise, Peaches,” he said. “Because I know you missed me while you were at school.”

  “I didn’t miss you while I was at school.”

  “You shouldn’t tell lies, Peaches.”

  I shot him a look, but the truth was, he did randomly pop up in my thoughts throughout the day, and it was always followed by a dipping motion in my stomach. I had no idea what that meant, if it was something good or bad, but it was weird. I’d spent a decent amount of time with him, so how could I miss him already? I used to go entire weekends without seeing my ex, Brandon, and not really miss him. Actually, if I was being honest, I hadn’t missed him at all.

  “Okay,” I said after a moment. “I did miss you.”

  “A lot.”

  “A little,” I corrected, fighting a grin as I stared at the white glow in his finger and then lifted my gaze to those stunning eyes. “Why do you want me to touch it?”

  He was quiet for a moment, and the teasing eased from his features. “Because this is something you used to love doing.”

  My heart lodged itself in my throat. He meant it was something Nadia loved to do.

  When I first learned of who I was, hearing that name—Nadia—made me sick to my stomach, but now I was thirsty for the knowledge, to know what she liked and disliked, what her dreams were, what she had wanted to be when she got older. If she was like me, scared of nearly everything, or if she was brave.

  I wanted to know what it was about her that had captured the heart of someone like Luc.

  Drawing in a short breath, I lifted my hand, trusting that Luc wouldn’t let the Source harm me. The warm glow was pleasant, like basking in the sun, and it sent a trill of electricity dancing up my arm. The moment I pressed my finger against his, the room exploded with light. I gasped, starting to jerk back.

  “Look,” he urged softly. “Look around us.”

  Eyes wide, I tugged my gaze from where our fingers had disappeared under the glow, and when I saw his room, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

  Luc’s apartment was one large, open space with the exception of a bathroom and closet. From where we were on the bed, I could see straight into the living room and the kitchen that appeared rarely used.

  But every square inch—the large sectional couch and television, the end tables, and even the guitar displayed by the floor-to-ceiling windows—looked like it was covered with twinkling, floating, warm white Christmas lights.

  “What is this?” I watched as one of the dazzling lights drifted past my face. It was so tiny, the size of a needle point.

  “It’s the molecules in the air lit up.” His breath coasted over my cheek. “The Source can bond and interact with those molecules and the atoms that create the molecules. Normally you wouldn’t be able to see them since they’re too small, but the source magnifies them, and when you see one, you’re actually seeing thousands of them.”

  Everywhere I looked, I saw the dancing little balls of light. “Is that how you can use the Source to move things?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Awed, I took in the stunning sight before me. I wanted to reach out and touch one of the dazzling lights, but I didn’t want to disturb them. “I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “It’s not the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.” His voice was different now, deeper and thicker. As if I had no control over myself, I turned my head toward him.

  Luc’s gaze snagged mine, and a shivery feeling spread over my skin. Every inch of my body became aware of his.

  My heart sped up. “I used to do this with you?”

  He didn’t nod or move, but somehow, he seemed closer. I inhaled the unique pine-and-spice scent of him. “You used to make me do this at least once every day.”

  “Once every day? That seems excessive.”

  “It was in the beginning,” he admitted, and there was no mistaking the fondness that had crept into his tone. “When you were really small—really young, I’d get annoyed because you’d followed me around for hours until I made the fireflies come.”

  “Fireflies?”

  “Yeah.” Thick lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. “That’s what you called the lights. Fireflies.”

  “They do kind of look like fireflies in a jar.” With those intense eyes not focused on mine, it was easier to concentrate on what he was sharing with me. “Did you get mad at me when I’d ask you to do this?”

  “I was always annoyed with you when we were younger.” He chuckled as he pressed the palm of his hand flat against mine. The contact sent another ripple of electricity through me, causing the tips of my fingers to tingle and the dancing lights around us to pulse. “When I wouldn’t do this for you, you’d go to Paris, and then he’d guilt me into doing it even though he could’ve done the same thing.”

  “I wish I remembered Paris.” Especially since Luc spoke of him as if he were like an older brother or father to him and to me.

  “I can help you remember.” His thumb slid along the side of my hand. “Because a lot of my memories were yours.”

  You were all my good memories.

  Pressure clamped down on my chest, threatening to seal off my throat with emotion. That’s what Luc had said to me when I asked if I’d been a part of his rare good memories, and I believed him. I just couldn’t find those memories.

  Sometimes I couldn’t reconcile the two very different worlds—different lives. The Nadia that Luc claimed was bold and brave, kind and strong. The Evie that thought of Sylvia as her mother and had no idea what she was doing half the time. The monster known as Jason Dasher and the hero celebrated all around the States who had never been my father. I had memories of the man, mourned his death, and I actually never met him.

  How messed up was that?

  Worse yet, sometimes I didn’t even feel real.

  Like, did I really love taking photographs, or was that just because it was something Nadia liked? And if that were the case, did it matter because, at the end of the day, I was Nadia? Did I not know what I wanted to do with my life because I had no idea who I really was, my likes or dislikes? Could I trust anything I wanted when I didn’t know if they were my desires, or the real Evie’s, or Nadia’s?

  Did Luc call Nadia Peaches, too?

  “Come back to me,” Luc whispered against my cheek, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

  Blinking, I focused on features that were both painfully familiar and heartbreakingly not. “I’m here.”


  “You went someplace else.” Lifting his other hand, he caught a loose strand of my pale hair and tucked it back behind my ear. His hand lingered, slipping to the nape of my neck. “Do you see these lights?”

  My brow furrowed in confusion. “Yes.”

  “Do you feel my hand against yours?”

  “I do.”

  “And do you feel this?” He slid his hand around the side of my neck, gently pressing his thumb to where my pulse started to pound as his eyes searched mine.

  “I feel that.” I’d have to be dead to not feel that.

  “You’re real, Evie. It doesn’t matter who you used to be or who you thought you were. You are real, and I see you.”

  Air caught in my throat, and my lungs felt like they might burst.

  “And I never once called Nadia Peaches.”

  He’d been reading my thoughts. “Luc—”

  “I couldn’t help it. You were broadcasting your thoughts loudly.” His thumb moved, smoothing over the skin just below my ear.

  It would be wise to pull away and put some distance between us, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. A thrill lit up my veins, and a ridiculous amount of warmth poured into my chest. “So, it’s … it’s all mine, then?”

  The question might’ve sounded ridiculous to anyone else, but I thought Luc understood. “Yeah.” His voice was rough as he drew his hand up, dragging his thumb under my jaw. “It’s all you.”

  A heavy exhalation left me. I couldn’t describe how it felt. It was just a nickname based on the lotion I loved to wear, but still, it wasn’t something that belonged to the Evie before me or to Nadia. It was me, right here and right now, and I latched on to that desperately.

  Luc’s hand tilted my chin to the side. Heat climbed down my throat, flushing my skin. Luc had lips that were as soft as satin and hard as steel. I had no idea how one thing could be both, but his lips were, and I knew this, because I’d touched them, tasted them. Those lips were so close to mine—the closest they had been since we’d last kissed, and that seemed like an eternity ago even though it had only been a few days.

  I’d been his first kiss—well, Nadia had been his first kiss—and I was confident that I had been his last.