The Brightest Night (Origin #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,43

the side. “The world could use a lot of things.”

“Cekiah is one of the council members,” Zoe jumped in. “And one of the first Luxen who came here.”

She was a council member? Eaton would’ve shared what I was with a member of the council, wouldn’t he? “How did you end up here?” I asked.

“Before the war, I lived in a community of Luxen in Colorado, one of the ones the Daedalus helped establish for those … assimilated.” Cekiah’s gaze never wavered from mine. “After the invasion, I met Daemon and his siblings there. Luc, too. He was a very young man at that time, but even at that age, you listened when he spoke. He didn’t trust the registration program that was being created even though many were hopeful, foolishly so. I, like Luc, had a feeling that numbering and tracking us was the beginning of something that would not end well. And when he and Daemon found evidence that there were people trapped within the walled cities, I had to do something. The idea that people were just forgotten, shut away from a world that believed them to be dead? It gave me nightmares. Thankfully, I wasn’t unique in that sense.”

“But you and everyone who came here to help are unique,” I told her, meaning it. “You didn’t stick your head in the sand because it didn’t involve you. A lot of people I know, a lot of humans, would’ve done that.”

“Thank you, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit that there was a self-serving angle to my altruism,” she replied. “It afforded a perfect way to fly under the radar.”

Zoe laughed. “Yeah, you could’ve flown under the radar by leaving the U.S. like many of the Luxen did.”

I blinked. That was the first I’d heard of that. “They did?”

Cekiah laughed, the sound rich and throaty. “Many fled to Canada when they pulled out of the ARP agreement, along with several of the European countries. I considered it,” she admitted, and the humor dancing in her eyes faded into shadows. “But the nightmares—they were real. I wouldn’t have been able to live myself.”

“And it won’t matter how far anyone goes,” Zoe said, “if the Daedalus succeeds.”

“True.” Cekiah stepped forward. If she was surprised to hear about the Daedalus, she didn’t show it. “I saw you two outside and wanted to say hello, but I won’t keep either of you much longer.” Finally pulling her gaze from mine, she looked pointedly at Zoe. “You, however, had better carve out some time so we can properly catch up.”

“Of course,” Zoe murmured, and it was evident she was pleased to hear the request.

Those powerful tawny eyes flicked back to me. “I need to be blunt with you.”

Zoe stiffened, but I held myself still, unbelievably so. I had a sinking feeling I knew what was coming.

“Luc spoke with me about who you are, who you really are,” she said, and Zoe’s attention snapped to the older Luxen. “He stopped by with Daemon earlier. He told me what I needed to know, and he did so while requesting that the knowledge of what you are stays with me. Luc asked that I not share it, not yet, with the remaining council.”

My heart started to thump. I didn’t want the people here to know. If they were to find out, their looks of suspicion and distrust would no longer come from a place of wariness but from fear. Hell, they could even demand that I leave, and I didn’t even want to think of Luc’s response to that. Nor did I want to face a reality where I’d be out there, trying to get my abilities under control when I could be found by either the SOL or the Daedalus.

“Cekiah,” Zoe started.

“Let me finish.” Cekiah silenced Zoe with those three words. “My instinct isn’t to lie to those who feel a bone-deep responsibility to those here, and Luc knows that. I don’t know you, and I don’t say this to be unkind, but I have a feeling you don’t know yourself, either.”

I flinched at the all-too-true words.

“I only know what Luc has assured me, and all anyone has to do is look at Luc when he speaks of you to know he cares only about your safety,” she continued. “His request didn’t make me remotely happy. However, as Luc was quick to remind me, I owed him my silence.”

How many people owed Luc favors? Seriously. Still, relief swept through me.

“As I told him, if