The Burning Shadow

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “I wouldn’t want that to happen. Seriously.” He came around the rear of the SUV. “We destroyed your phone when we got to the house in Columbia. Probably not soon enough. After all, our location was ferreted out with a quickness that was impressive.”

  Months ago, I would’ve flipped out if my phone had been destroyed. I mean, my phone had everything on it. Even a game of Candy Crush that I’d been playing for about two years straight, reaching a level of 935. But today?

  I just sighed. “Okay.”

  Luc leaned a hip against the SUV. He was quiet as I pushed the clothing back down. “I had to,” he said finally.

  Zipping up my bag, I faced him. I knew exactly what he was talking about. “I know you did. I know that sounds harsh, but it had to happen. They were going to kill us—”

  “The man who had his gun on you didn’t have bullets loaded into his gun.” His arms crossed over his chest. “It was some kind of tranquilizer. They weren’t planning to kill you.”

  Shock rippled through me. “Why does that feel worse than them wanting to kill me?”

  “Because it is.”

  A shudder worked its way through me. The Daedalus didn’t want me dead. They just wanted me, and knowing what I did, that would be worse than death. I pushed those thoughts aside, because what could I do about it right now? Nothing. I stepped toward Luc. “Are you okay?”

  Luc didn’t answer for a long moment. “It’s not their deaths that are bothering me, Evie. The moment they came for you, that was it for them. They weren’t going to walk out of there. It’s not even what happened at Foretoken. Losing Chas and Clyde is going to eat at me, no mistake there, but what is happening to you now is my fault.”

  My stomach whooshed.

  “I did this to you,” he said. “I did this to you to save you, and all I’ve done is put you in the crosshairs of the Daedalus.”

  30

  I tried to get Luc to talk to me after what he’d said, but he wasn’t having it, and we really didn’t get the chance. There was no privacy, and we didn’t have time.

  I’d let it go for the time being.

  After using the restroom and grabbing a buffet of chips and cookies from the gas station, we got back on the road. My full stomach told me that I’d successfully pigged out. There was even an orange Fanta soda involved, courtesy of Kent. At some point, Zoe climbed into the seats behind us, stretching out while I stared out the window, watching the tree-covered valleys blur by.

  I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I must’ve, because after some time, I found myself tucked against Luc’s side. Daylight streamed in through the windows as all my senses fired up and started working again.

  Luc’s chest rose and fell deeply under my hand. Steady. The hand above my hip was still. He was asleep, and I didn’t want to wake him. I didn’t dare move or breathe too deeply. My gaze shifted from the back of the seat.

  And right to the ultrabright blue eyes of Grayson.

  I sucked in a startled breath but managed not to move.

  Grayson was peering around his seat, staring at me—at us. Whoa. How long had he been doing that?

  “Creepy,” I mouthed.

  He smiled, and my nose wrinkled. The wide, ear-to-ear smile was even more creeptastic. His gaze flicked up, and then he started to turn around, leaving me to plot how to sit up without waking Luc. I would just need to be stealthy, like a—

  The thumb attached to the hand on my hip moved. Air hitched in my throat. The movement wasn’t a twitch. Oh no, it was a very controlled, slow swipe of the thumb over the curve of my waist, eliciting a sharp series of tingles down my legs and up my side.

  I was back to staring at the seat in front of me, my breathing now fast and shallow.

  Luc was … he was drawing … symbols? An idle circle. A star. An … ampersand?

  He was definitely awake.

  Every part of my being focused on that thumb, leaving no room to think about why I was here, where we were heading, or what had happened. My brain had officially checked out, handing over control to my body, and my body was brimming with curiosity.

  Luc drew a check mark.

  A warm, heady tension swept over me, and inside my shoes, my toes curled. Luc was barely touching me, and my heart was still racing.

  My eyes drifted shut, and I immediately saw her—my mother in her true form, lying dead on my bedroom floor. Sorrow punched through the pleasant haze. I stiffened as my thoughts wandered from that to another train wreck. After what happened with April, I knew it would be a while before my life returned to normal. If it ever would. I guessed I’d held some hope that I’d be able to return to school, see James, and graduate. That I could have those two lives. But as I lay there, nestled against Luc, escaping to a city I’d never been to and then to another I’d believed destroyed, I realized that maybe I knew why Luc hadn’t wanted to include me in what he did at the club.

  There was no straddling these two worlds. You were either in or out, and now there was no choice. I was in over my head.

  His hand stilled.

  Slowly dragging in a deep breath, I turned my head and looked up.

  Amethyst eyes met mine. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” I croaked out.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, and I knew he was talking about my loss of choice. Maybe he didn’t even need to peek in on my thoughts to know where my thoughts went.

  I sat up, pushing the hair out of my face, not at all surprised to find that it felt like a squirrel had nested in it.

  Looking over my shoulder, I saw that Zoe was still out, curled up on the back seat. Turning back around, I clasped my hands together.

  “Nice of you all to finally join us,” muttered Kent from the driver’s seat.

  I couldn’t believe he was still driving, but I realized the bruise and split lip were gone. I glanced at the passenger seat. Had Grayson healed him?

  I looked out the window, squinting. I had no idea where we were. We were surrounded by thick, tall trees sporadically broken up by cute, old-looking homes. Kent turned down a narrow road, and those ancient oaks eventually blanketed the street, creating an eerie canopy that reminded me of steepled, bony fingers.

  This was not how I imagined a suburb of Atlanta looked. “Where are we?”

  “About five minutes out from where we need to be, Evie Beanie,” answered Kent, and I frowned. “We’re in Decatur.”

  Evie Beanie? I think I preferred honeybuns. “How far is it from Atlanta?”

  “Not far at all. A handful of miles,” he answered. “MARTA rail system runs from Atlanta to here. A lot of commuters. A lot of people that aren’t going to pay attention to us.”

  My hands twisted together nervously. “The … trees are beautiful. Creepy but beautiful.”

  “Decatur is an old town, founded before the Civil War.” Luc shifted on the seat beside me. A second later, he smacked his hand down on the back of the seat, making me jump.

  “What the—?” Zoe shot up, stopping mere inches from hitting her head on the roof of the car. She swung toward Luc, eyes narrowing. “Asshole.”

  He grinned as he lifted his hand, dragging his fingers through the messy waves. “We’re almost there.”

  “You know, you could have woken me up in a nice way,” she shot back.

  He chuckled under his breath. “You know me better than that.”

  “True,” she muttered, sitting back. Her gaze flickered to mine. “How long have you been up?”

  “Just a few moments.”

  “Bet he didn’t wake you up like that.” She sighed.

  I grinned a little, and it felt weird as I faced the front. Letting out a shaky breath, I went back to staring out the window, because that was easier than, well, thinking about everything at the moment. The Yukon slowed and then hung a right, climbing a steep hill. Sunlight peered through the trees as some of the oaks cleared. A house came into view.

  A large log-style house.

  Two stories with a raised front porch, the place
looked like a retreat. I leaned forward, my gaze skating over the many windows. “Whose house is this?”

  “Mine,” answered Luc.

  Leaning back from the window, I looked over at him. “What?”

  One side of his mouth kicked up. “I own many properties under a false identification with real money.” He paused, scratching idly at his chest. “This is one of them.”

  Shock rendered me speechless, and I didn’t know why, out of everything that had happened, him owning multiple properties surprised me so much. Maybe it was because he hadn’t mentioned it. Then again, I couldn’t fathom when that would’ve come up in conversation.

  The Yukon halted outside of a wooden garage door. Grayson opened the passenger door. The engine was still rumbling when where we were really truly hit me.

  I wasn’t in Maryland anymore.

  I was in Georgia, in a town I’d never heard of.

  “What happens now?” I asked no one in particular.

  It was Luc who answered. “We go inside.”

  Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I looked at him.

  “We rest up. We wait,” he said, his gaze holding mine. “That’s what we do.”

  None of that sounded like enough. Not at all. We could rest. We could wait. But there was more. “We need to find out what the hell was done to me and why it led to this.”

  Admiration danced across his striking features. “We will.”

  * * *

  The inside of the house was jaw-dropping, just as beautiful and spacious as it was on the outside. The lower level was completely open, the space dominated by a large living room with one of those sectional couches that were two wide cushions deep; the kind of couch that sucked you in and never let you out. There was a TV about the size of the Yukon mounted to the wall. There was a dining area and a kitchen worthy of a top chef. There were stairs that led to a second floor.

  “Do people live here regularly?” I asked, thinking it was a waste of beautiful space for it to sit empty.

  Luc walked ahead, toward the kitchen. “A lot of people are in and out, but no one stays here on the regular.”

  “It’s my favorite place.” Kent dived onto the couch, landing with a happy-sounding grunt. “‘Wake me up before you go-go…’”

  I stopped behind the couch, frowning at him. He’d face-planted on one of the cushions, and all I could see was the limp, blue mohawk.

  Grayson drifted into the kitchen, following Luc, who was now at the fridge. “We’re going to need to stock up on some food and drinks,” he said, head tilted as he eyed whatever was in the fridge.

  “How long do you really think we’ll be here?” I asked.

  “As long as it takes for Daemon to know what went down.” Closing the door, he straightened and walked behind a huge kitchen island. “That’s what we’re waiting on. See that door there?” He nodded at the two across the kitchen. “The one on the left is the pantry. The one on the right leads down into the basement. Don’t go down into the basement.”

  “Well, that sounds like the start of every horror film,” I replied.

  He shot me a dry look.

  I lifted my hands. “Okay. Whatever.” Not like I was planning to. Basements were always full of spiders, cobwebs, and ghosts, but now I was super curious.

  Zoe brushed past me. “I’m heading upstairs to pick out a room.”

  “Not fair!” came Kent’s muffled voice, but he didn’t move from his prone position on the couch.

  Zoe shook her head as she started toward the stairs. Picking up my bag, I followed her. “There are two master suites,” she explained when we reached the top. “One at the end of each hall.”

  “You’ve been here before?”

  Zoe nodded, not looking at me.

  “When?”

  She walked toward a closed-up room with double doors. “The last time was this summer when I…”

  My mind raced back in time. “When you said you were going on vacation with your uncle? You told me you guys were going to Ocean City.”

  “I came here instead.” Zoe pushed opened the door, and cool air that smelled faintly of woodsy teak greeted us. “I had to. Anyway, you take this bedroom. It has its own bath, like the one at the other end, which I am totally commandeering. The guys can have the other bedrooms and share the other bathroom.” Flipping on a light, she stopped and turned to me. “Because I am so not sharing a bathroom with them.” She paused. “But I’m guessing you’ll be sharing one with Luc?”

  I didn’t know how to answer that. We were together. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Sharing a bedroom, though, seemed … next level. So, I just shrugged.

  Zoe arched a brow.

  Walking into the spacious bedroom, I dropped my bag on the bed and then sat down. Zoe joined me after a few seconds. We said nothing as we sat there, staring at the closed door of the bathroom. I scanned the room, spying a guitar in the corner.

  This was Luc’s room.

  She spoke first. “This wasn’t how I was expecting my week to go.”

  My lips twitched, and then a rough laugh burst from me. “Same.”

  “We’re going to be okay.” She knocked her shoulder off mine. “We’ll make our way to Zone 3, and there will be people there that can tell us what was … done to you. They’ll have answers, and we’ll be safe.”

  Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Will we see Emery and Heidi again?”

  “Yes. Of course. They’re heading there, but they’re going to lie low for a while. They were spotted, so they just have to be careful.”

  “And then what?” I asked, looking over at her. “What happens once we get there? We find out what … was done to me, but then what?” I huffed out a dry laugh. “We live out our days there, in a city destroyed by EMP weapons? No school. No college. No job, I guess.” I shook my head. “Is that the future?”

  Zoe was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know, Evie. I really don’t.”

  31

  The first thing I did when Zoe left to commandeer her room was to take a shower. I felt sticky and gross, and I hoped once I was clean, my mind would be clearer.

  Rooting around in the bag, I pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt. Even though it was comfortable in the house and November, it was still sticky and humid outside. My hand brushed over a tube as I pulled out a pair of undies.

  Peaches.

  My breath wheezed.

  Mom had packed my favorite moisturizer. I couldn’t believe it. Crazy things had been going down, and my mom had packed my moisturizer.

  Tears burned the backs of my eyes as I placed the tube on the bed and then took out Diesel, placing him on the nightstand. Blinking back tears, I backed away and headed to the bathroom.

  Stripping off my shirt, I yanked off my jeans and stepped out of them, glancing down. I froze. Coppery brown smudges were on my stomach, my thighs …

  My hands hung limply at my sides.

  The blood had soaked through, drying on my skin. I hadn’t noticed it because the jeans were dark rinse. Then again, I wasn’t sure I would’ve noticed anyway. A twisting motion in my chest stole my breath. I looked up, catching my reflection in the mirror above the vanity.

  I almost didn’t recognize myself.

  When I had stopped to use the restroom at the gas station, I hadn’t looked at myself. I don’t know why. I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to look at myself now, but I couldn’t look away.

  Faint shadows formed under plain brown eyes that looked tired. My face was paler than normal, almost like I was about to get sick. Was I? I thought of Sarah and the black bile she’d spewed. It was possible. Who knew what would happen? The freckles were there, always there. My lips looked a little dry, and that was kind of gross.

  I touched my cheek, where the man had struck me. There was no mark. Nothing.

  I looked like I always did. How many times had I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, trying to figure out if I was more Evie or Nadia? How many times had I lain awake at night, struggling to come to
terms with who I used to be and who I was now? Countless times.

  Too many.

  Because it now seemed so clear to me that it didn’t matter. I was a mixture of both, and I was also neither of them.

  I also looked like I hadn’t slept in a week.

  Maybe a month.

  Pulling away from the mirror, I turned on the shower, and within moments, lovely warm steam was building. I peeled off the remaining clothes and stepped inside the stall, biting back a moan when the water hit my skin. Muscles I didn’t even know I had screamed in relief as I turned around, letting the stream wash over me. I looked down at my feet, and a puff of air parted my lips.

  Pinkish water ran between my toes, circling the drain. Blood. Mom’s blood.

  Smacking my hands over my face, I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my lips together, holding my breath.

  Mom.

  Disbelief rippled through me, that part of my brain that still couldn’t believe she was gone. It had only been sixteen or so hours since I’d last talked to her.

  Sixteen hours. Maybe a little more, but just hours ago, she’d been alive …

  Now she was gone.

  And I was now gone, wasn’t I?

  Tiny white lights were forming behind my lids. A burn started in my lungs.

  Were people looking for me right now? Did they leave Mom there to be found by police? The commotion had to have been reported. Had anyone found my mother and begun to ask questions? Was I a missing person, assumed … dead? Or did the public not even know what happened? Maybe we’d been erased.

  My head began to swim, and my body began to feel shattered.

  A tremble shook my arms and then my legs. I started to double over but caught myself. Yanking my hands away from my face, I opened my eyes and mouth, dragging in deep gulps of air, so deep that I choked and then heaved. Throwing out an arm, I slammed my hand on the tile wall and steadied myself.

  Pull it together. That’s what I needed to do. Pull it together. I could do this. I had to do this.

  So I did.

  I opened my eyes and straightened, removed my hand from the tile—the cracked tile. My head tilted to the side as I looked between it and my palm. Had I done that? Or had it been cracked before?