The Brightest Night (Origin #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,102

disappear on him again, and knowing that was a very real concern for him caused my heart to ache.

But the fact that Luc didn’t wake up proved just how exhausted he was. He needed to sleep a day or two, but I couldn’t sleep yet.

Restless, but nowhere near as much, I found a pair of leggings in the dark and pulled them on. In the back of my mind, I knew I would’ve had one hell of a time finding those black pants before, but I didn’t obsess over that. Improved eyesight was definitely a cool benefit, but I’d talked to Luc telepathically tonight.

I’d also moved a shirt with the Source.

Luc and I had also had sex.

I wasn’t sure which one of them felt more life-altering. All of them were for different reasons. So, there was a lot I could obsess over, rightfully so, but I didn’t want to stress over any of it.

An idea had occurred to me while I’d lain there in bed, and I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. Heading to the kitchen, I quickly grabbed a few cans of food and a couple of bottles of water, placing them in one of the paper bags stacked on the floor of the pantry. If Nate had come by while I’d been sleeping, he could’ve been looking for food and gotten scared off by the presence of so many different people in and out of the house. Even if he hadn’t been, maybe if he found the bag, he would come back.

With the bag in hand, I slipped out into the cool night and looked around. Spotting the furniture by the firepit, I figured that would be a good place to leave the bag. I placed it on the cushion and then turned, looking up. The sky was blanketed with tiny dazzling stars, some brighter than others. Had the sky always looked like this, or were my eyes just registering it better now? I had to think the fact there were no light sources of any significance for miles and miles had to be why so many stars were visible.

Either way, it was absolutely beautiful.

The soft wail of a baby broke the silence, and I turned to Kat and Daemon’s house. The cry came again. A soft, very frustrated wail that was most definitely coming from outside.

My feet were moving before I told them to. Curiosity had taken hold as I walked along the fence line, toward the front of the house and through an area that was only six feet wide and was more grass than stone. As I grew closer, the owh-sounding wail weakened, and I felt the creepy-crawling sensation along the back of my neck. My gaze tracked over the covered porch as I inched out into the front lawn.

Daemon was on the porch with the baby. I didn’t see him, not through the heavy curtains, but I didn’t feel that sensation when I was around Kat.

Low, masculine shushing sounds came from the porch, and they were answered by an even sleepier whimper.

Feeling like I was intruding, I turned away, but one of the curtains peeled back, and there Daemon was, glowing like a rainbow to my all-new, extra-special Arum eyes, and in his arms was this tiny thing that glowed white with a purplish tint.

A baby Origin.

The light show faded until it was barely visible. There was a whole lot of skin to see, as Daemon was shirtless, but it was the child who had my attention. He was wrapped up in a fuzzy white blanket—which was normal, I supposed—but this blanket had a teeny-tiny hood, and that hood had half of a face and ears—

“Is that a llama hood?” I blurted out, and the baby let out another cry. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t be talking if you’re trying to calm him or something.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Talking doesn’t stop him from sleeping. A bomb going off probably wouldn’t stop him from sleeping.” Daemon sighed as he looked down at the child. “And yes. It’s a llama blanket, hood thing.”

Relieved, I stared at the llama blanket. “Luc?”

“Who else?” He descended the steps, his feet also bare. “I hope Adam’s extra-strength screams didn’t wake you.”

“No. I couldn’t sleep.” Surprised that Daemon was actually walking across the driveway to where I stood instead of rushing the baby away from me, I just stood there.

And like a doofus, I said the stupidest-sounding thing possible. “I’ve never seen a baby.”

His steps