The Brightest Night (Origin #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,202

I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice, but Tabby—she’s the only family I’ve got left. You met her. She was the one who loves—”

“Creamed corn,” I interrupted, recalling the first time he’d been at the house. “That little girl who grabbed the can is your sister.”

“Yes. I didn’t even think he knew she was my sister. She must’ve slipped up and said something. I’m sorry, but he’s got my sister, and he’ll hurt her.” Nate dropped to his knees, clasping his hands together. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you everything when I saw you, but I’m scared. I didn’t want to do this, but he’ll hurt her. I know he will.”

Luc moved, and Nate swung his head toward him. He knelt so they were eye level. “I can read your mind, so it’s best to continue being honest. I’ll know when you’re lying.”

Nate gaped at Luc, and it was obvious that he’d never known that was possible. Anger flashed through me, directed at both Nate and Morton, but I wrapped my hand around Nate’s arm, tugging him to his feet. “Tell us everything.”

His lower lip trembled. “You’re going to hate me.”

“I think you need to worry more about us growing impatient,” warned Daemon.

“You need to talk and do so fast,” Luc agreed as Grayson casually moved so he was behind Nate.

“It’s okay,” I told Nate even though it really wasn’t. “Just tell us everything and tell us the truth.”

The boy seemed to pull himself together. “He had us all afraid of the Luxen—the people that live here. It wasn’t hard. Many of us remember what it was like when they came. We all saw some scary stuff. I knew something was up when he asked that I—”

I heard it the same time Luc did, which was only a heartbeat later. Grayson spun around, and Daemon stiffened. Footsteps echoing from within the darkness. Multiple ones.

Grabbing ahold of Nate, I shoved him behind me as the darkness seemed to expand.

“They’re soldiers,” Nate said. “I saw them earlier. The others didn’t, but Morton made me see them.”

“Jesus,” Daemon muttered. “How did they get in?”

“The tunnels,” whispered Nate, fingers clinging to the back of my shirt. “He had us dig out the tunnel from the inside. We spent three years doing it.”

If this was something they’d been working on for years, then I knew only one thing could be behind this.

The Daedalus? I said to Luc.

Unfortunately.

But it didn’t make sense. If the Daedalus had been working to get into the city unseen for three years, then they had to know what was going on here.

“The other kids? Are they in on this?” Daemon demanded.

“No. I swear. They dug the tunnels, but they didn’t know why. I didn’t until a few days ago.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Luc confirmed, and that part made me feel a little better knowing we weren’t sending a bunch of foxes to the hen house.

“I’m sorry, Evie,” Nate continued to whisper. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

“You can apologize later,” I cut him off as the footsteps came to a sudden halt. I stared deep into the darkness. “I need you to be quiet now.”

Tiny pinpricks of light appeared in the darkness.

“Brace yourself,” Luc warned. “They’re here.”

Daemon and Grayson slipped into their true forms, twin intense lights.

And then they were here.

Dozens and dozens of ART officers spilled out of the darkness. Rows of them dressed in white, their shields hiding their faces. All of them carried rifles, the kind I knew were modified to carry a dangerous, often deadly electrical current.

They were all aimed at us.

I’ll take care of the guns, Luc said. You take care of them.

Done, I said, letting instinct take over. All the practice had helped erase fear of losing control, but this would be different. I wasn’t moving objects or people, but I couldn’t let panic take grip. I tapped into the Source. The power in the center of my chest stretched as if it were waking up, and then it flooded my system.

“On the floor and in human forms. Now,” one of the officers commanded. “Or we shoot.”

Luc sighed as my skin tingled. “Boring.” And then he lifted his hands. “I’d expect better.”

Fingers twitched over triggers, but they weren’t fast enough. The rifles were ripped from their grasps and flew toward the ceiling. Metal groaned and caved as the barrels were melted and bent. Electrical pulses lit up the chambers of the rifles, bursting out the back in mini, harmless explosions. I wished I could see the