Origin Page 9
Staring at him, I had no idea what to say.
“Let me ask you a question, Ms. Swartz. Where exactly do you think Daemon Black, his family, and his friends fall?”
“They aren’t interested in subjugating a house fly!” I barked out a harsh laugh. “Insinuating that is just ridiculous.”
“Is it?” He paused. “You can never really, truly know someone. And I am sure when you first met Daemon and his family, you never would’ve assumed what they are, correct?”
He had me there.
“You have to admit that if they were so good at hiding the fact they weren’t even human, how good they must be at hiding something as invisible as their allegiance,” he said. “You forget that they are not human, and they are not, I can assure you, a part of the ten percent that we trust.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I didn’t—couldn’t—believe what he said, but he had said all of this without an ounce of scorn. As if he were just stating facts, like a doctor would when telling a patient he had terminal cancer.
He turned back to the window, lifting his chin. “It is speculated that there are hundreds of thousands of Luxen out there, in space, who traveled to other points in the universe. What do you think would happen if they came here? Remember, these are Luxen who have had little to no contact with mankind.”
“I…” A shiver of unease traveled up my spine and across my shoulders. Turning my attention to the window, I watched a Luxen flicker into his true form. When I spoke, I didn’t recognize my own voice. “I don’t know.”
“They would obliterate us.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, still not wanting to believe what he was saying. “That sounds a little extreme.”
“Does it?” He paused, sounding curious. “Look at our own history. One stronger nation takes over another. The Luxen’s and even the Arum’s mentalities are no different from ours. Basic Darwinism.”
“Survival of the fittest,” I murmured, and for a moment I could almost see it. An invasion of Hollywood proportions, and I knew enough about the Luxen to know that if that many came here, and they wanted to take over, they would.
Closing my eyes, I shook my head again. He was mind-screwing me. There wasn’t an army of Luxen about to invade. “What does any of this have to do with me?”
“Besides the fact that you are strong, as is the Luxen who mutated you, and your blood could possibly help us come one step closer to a successful batch of LH-11? We would love to study the connection between you and the one who mutated you. Very few have been able to do it successfully, and it would be a great achievement to have another Luxen who could successfully mutate other humans and create hybrids who are stable.”
I thought of all those humans Dawson had been forced to mutate and watch die. I couldn’t bear it if Daemon had to go through that, creating humans that would only…
I took a deep breath. “Is that what happened to Carissa?”
“Who?”
“You know who,” I said tiredly. “She was mutated, but she was unstable. She came after me and self-destructed. She was a…” Good person. But I stopped, because I realized that if the sergeant knew anything about Carissa, he either wasn’t talking or he simply didn’t care.
A few moments passed before he continued. “But that’s not the only thing Daedalus is concerned with. Having the Luxen here who mutated you would be great, but that’s not what we’re focused on.”
I looked at him sharply, and my heart rate picked up. Surprise shuttled through me. They weren’t focused on luring Daemon in?
“We wanted you,” Sergeant Dasher said.
It felt like the floor moved under my feet. “What?”
His expression was neither cold nor warm. “See, Miss Swartz, there’re those nine thousand Luxen we need help dealing with. And when the rest of the Luxen come to Earth—and they will—we will need everything in our arsenal to save mankind. That means hybrids like you, and hopefully many more, who can fight.”
What the…? I was sure I’d slipped into an alternate universe. My brain pretty much imploded.
Dasher regarded me closely. “So, the question is, will you be with us, or will you stand against your own kind? Because you will have to make a choice, Miss Swartz. Between your own people or those of the one who mutated you.”
Chapter 6
Daemon
After saying good-bye to Dawson and Bethany, I left the house just as dawn broke. What had happened with Beth haunted my every step. She seemed a little better, but I didn’t know. I had no doubt that Dawson would take care of her, though.
I looked back at the house. A cold, distant part of me acknowledged that I might not see this place, or my brother and sister, ever again. That knowledge didn’t lessen my resolve.
I headed in the opposite direction of the colony, picking up speed. Although I stayed in my human form, I moved faster than I could be tracked.
Dawson had told me earlier that my car had been stowed away at Matthew’s, which helped detour local law enforcement that weren’t bought out by the DOD and were actually concerned about another set of missing teenagers.
It took me less than five minutes to make the trek to Matthew’s cabin in the middle of nowhere. I slowed as I reached his driveway, spying his SUV.
I smirked.
I needed to get out of state, at least into Virginia. I could travel the entire way in my true form. Hell, it probably would even be quicker, but I’d wear myself out, and I was pretty sure the little meet and greet I was going to do at Mount Weather would be exhausting.
Considering how ticked off I was at Matthew right at the moment, I was going to enjoy “borrowing” his car, since mine would draw attention from those I didn’t have time to deal with. I slid into the driver’s seat, reached down, and yanked on the manifold hiding the wires.
When Dawson and I were little, we used to hotwire cars with our fingers for shits and giggles at the mall in Cumberland. Took us a couple of tries until we discovered the exact charge needed to do a jump-start and not fry the computers or the whole wiring system. We’d then move them into different parking spots and watch the owners come out, dumbfounded by how their cars had moved.
We’d bored easily as kids.
I wrapped my fingers around the wires and sent a little charge through them. The car sputtered, and the engine turned over.
Still had the magic touch.
Not wasting any time, I got the hell out of Matthew’s driveway and headed for the highway. There was no way he’d be as understanding as Dawson, at least not at the moment.
My brother was set to take care of a few things for me. He’d move enough money to get Kat and me by for a couple of years to an account I’d meticulously kept off the radar just in case shit went downhill one day.
And shit definitely had gone downhill.
Dawson and Dee also had strategically hidden “oh-crap” accounts, just as the Thompsons did. Matthew had gotten us doing that. I used to think it was paranoia, but, damn, he’d been smart. There was no way I could come back, and neither could Kat. We’d have to find a way for her to see her mom, but neither of us could stay here when I got her out of there. It would be too dangerous.
But before I headed to Mount Weather, I had a little visit to make.
Blake couldn’t have been the only one to screw us.
There was a teen hybrid who had a lot of explaining to do.
A little bit after noon, I stashed Matthew’s car behind the rundown gas station on the same road as Luc’s club. Not that the potholed dirt pathway was really a road. The last thing I wanted was for them to know I was coming. Something about Luc was off, and in a big way. The fact that he was barely a teenager and running a club was a big clue. And he was out here, with other Luxen, and unprotected from the Arum?
Yeah, something was off about the kid.
Staying in my human form, I took off through the weeds and into the wooded area behind the gas station. Bright sunlight filtered through the branches, and warm May air rushed me as I flew over the uneven ground. Seconds later, I cleared the stand of trees and hit the overgrown field.
Last time I’d been here with Kat, the field was nothing more than a frozen patch of grass. Now the reeds whipped at my jeans and dandelions carpeted the grass. Kat had a thing for dandelions. She couldn’t keep her fingers off them when we’d been training with the onyx. From the moment those yellow weeds started poking through the ground, she’d snap them up and pop their heads off.
A wry grin tugged at my lips as I skidded to a stop in front of the windowless door. Demented Kitten.
I placed my hands on the steel door, sliding them down the center, feeling for gaps or locks to manipulate. There was no way this door was unlocking anytime soon.
Backing up, I scanned the front of the building. Squat and no windows, more like a warehouse than a club. I stalked around the side, knocking empty cardboard boxes out of the way. In the back was a loading dock.
Score.
Pressing my hands on the thin gap between the doors, I heard the wonderful sound of locks unclicking. I quickly eased the door open and stepped into a dark storage area. Slipping through the shadows, I hugged the wall, my gaze flitting over white containers and piles of papers. There was a distinct smell of alcohol in the air. Another door loomed ahead, and I opened it. The minute I stepped into the narrow corridor lined with dry erase boards with stick figures—what the hell?—drawn all over them, the hair on the back of my neck rose, and a cold shiver snaked its way down my spine.
Arum.
I barreled out of the corridor, seconds from flipping into my true form. Instead I ground to a halt, face-to-face with the business end of a sawed-off shotgun.
That would sting.
The proud owner of the redneck killer was Big Boy the Bouncer, still rocking overalls. “Hands up, and don’t even think about going Lite-Brite on my ass, pretty boy.”
Jaw clenched tightly, I raised my hands. “There’s an Arum here.”
“No shit,” the bouncer said.
I cocked a brow. “So Luc is working with Arum, too?”
“Luc ain’t workin’ for no one.” The bouncer stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “Where’s that girl who’s normally with ya? She be sneakin’ around here, too?”
He glanced behind me, and I took advantage of the momentary distraction. My hand shot out faster than he could react. I snatched the shotgun from his grip and flipped it around. “How does it feel to have this pointed at your head?” I asked.
Big Boy’s nostrils flared. “Ain’t feelin’ real good.”
“Didn’t think so.” My finger itched on the trigger. “I’d like to keep my pretty face intact.”
The bouncer chortled. “And you do have a pretty face.”
Banjos started playing in my head.
“Oh, look,” said a new voice. “A love connection is made.”
“Not quite,” I said, wrapping my free hand around the barrel.
“Did you think I didn’t know you were here?”
Without taking my eyes off Big Boy, I smirked. “Does it matter?”