The Brightest Night (Origin #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,175

to the time that Luc and crew should return, we left for the entry house. Grayson joined us, having appeared out of freaking nowhere. The walk to the farmhouse was quiet.

It looked entirely different at night, the driveway and porch lit with torches and solar lights. It was so bright that I knew the Arum I felt as we neared the porch was Hunter. I could see him sitting on one of the rocking chairs, his wife beside him.

Doris stepped out of the house, a tray of glasses. “Figured we’d have more company than normal tonight. Made some sweet tea.”

“Thank you.” I took a glass and then sat on the top step. Taking a drink, I almost moaned in pleasure. It was truly sweet tea, heavy on the sweet part.

Heidi and Emery spoke with Hunter and Serena while Grayson lurked somewhere to my left. I nursed my sweet tea, having no idea how Daemon and Kat were going to handle the news.

“Hey.”

I turned to my left, and just as I’d suspected, Grayson was there, just out of the reach of the lights. He stood in what must’ve been a flower bed at one time. For some reason, I thought about what he’d said last night. You may think I hate you. He sure didn’t act like he liked me, and if he cared for Luc like he did, I really couldn’t blame him for disliking me.

“I have a feeling this is going to go in one ear and out the other. I also have a feeling Luc is going to say the same to you,” he said, voice so low that I doubted anyone else could hear him. “I know you want to talk to Blake, but you need to realize that whatever he tells you, you’ve got to take it with a grain of salt. He’s not to be trusted.”

I nodded.

Grayson was right. I did want to talk to Blake, but if given the chance, could I believe anything he said? That question was going to have to wait.

“By the way, I haven’t said anything about where you were last night,” he added.

“I figured if you had, someone would’ve yelled at me by now,” I said. “But thanks for not saying anything.”

He was silent for a moment. “But I will tell Luc as soon as this little drama plays out.”

“I’m going to tell him,” I whispered. “I wouldn’t hide that from him.”

“I’d hope not.” He then turned away.

What was happening with Nate and those kids was important, but this Blake thing was going to take precedence.

Only a few moments later, I felt them before I saw them. I rose from where I sat, placing the glass of tea out of the way so it wouldn’t be knocked over. I walked down the steps. Moments later, the small group appeared out of the darkness. Four had left. Four had returned. Each wore backpacks and carried duffel bags that appeared close to bursting.

I wanted to race down the driveway, meet him there, just like Heidi was doing, rushing toward Zoe, but I remained where I was, sensing that something big was going to happen the moment Daemon learned the truth. I watched Luc as he stepped farther into the lit area, his striking features breaking into a beautiful smile. It faltered the moment he picked up on my thoughts. I replayed everything that had happened, and I knew he read all of it.

His face went impressively blank as his gaze shifted to where Hunter sat in the rocking chair. Then he walked past me, stopping briefly to kiss me before he unloaded what he’d brought back on the porch. He waited until Daemon did the same, and by then Hunter had gotten his butt out of the chair and stood.

“Daemon,” Hunter said.

The quietness of the Arum’s voice must’ve sent some sort of warning to Daemon, because he went incredibly still. “What?”

“Blake Saunders is alive,” Hunter told him. “And he’s here.”

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Daemon took a step back, arms going to his sides. “That’s not possible.”

“It’s true,” Hunter said. “I fed on the Luxen. I didn’t see how they’re alive, but I know they’re telling the truth about who they are.”

“That son of a bitch is alive, and he’s here?” Daemon started to turn, his pupils a stark white. “Where is he?”

“They’re being held under the library,” Hunter answered.

“Hold up,” Luc said when Daemon started down the steps. “We need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what? He’s supposed to be dead. He needs to be