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.”