The Brightest Night (Origin #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,79

confirming what I’d already suspected. They would’ve kept putting people in Luc’s path, little time bombs waiting to be exploited.

The pink in her once pale cheeks deepened. “I guess you all just—” A rattling cough shook her entire body. “I guess you all just got lucky with the whole cancer thing.”

Sylvia turned back to the photo album, her fingers trailing over the photo of Evie. “There is no such thing as luck, Nadia.”

My lips parted. No. There was no way she could mean what I thought she did. The Daedalus couldn’t give people cancer.

But they could take alien DNA and meld it with humans’. They could create entire species and use technology the public had no idea even existed. They were capable of anything.

“Evie, I need you to wake up.”

The weird dream rippled without warning, the gray countertops and white cabinets fading until everything went black. It lasted seconds, maybe minutes. There was no concept of time, and then everything came back into focus.

“Why are you telling me this?” Nadia asked, wincing as she shifted on the stool. “Because the serum doesn’t work and I’m going to die anyway? If that happens, Luc will find out. He will kill you.”

“The serum worked, Nadia, and that’s why. You’re going to get very sick, very soon. You already are starting to feel the effects. I can see the fever in your skin. I bet your joints are beginning to ache.”

Nadia shuddered.

“The fever will get worse, and it will feel like you’re dying. I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Mom closed the photo album. “And then a new life begins.”

A dawning sense of horror crept into Nadia’s watery eyes. “You’re going to mutate me.”

Mom didn’t respond.

Another tremor coursed through Nadia’s body, and then she was scrambling back from the island, turning as if to run, but she only made it a foot before she doubled over, her knees giving out.

Out of reflex, I moved, but Mom reacted with Luxen speed, catching Nadia before she could hit the floor. Scooping Nadia’s hair out of her face, she carefully placed her on her knees. And it was in the nick of time, too.

Nadia’s entire body spasmed violently, and then she threw up blackish-blue bile that shimmered. I knew what that signified. She was mutating.

I was mutating.

“What have you—?” Nadia heaved again, tears streaming down her face. Black stained her lips. “What have you done to me?”

“Saved your life,” Mom whispered, kneeling beside Nadia. She reached for her, but Nadia shrank away from the touch. “You will never get sick again, Nadia. You will be better, and then they will make you stronger.”

Nadia stared down at her hands, her body trembling as the veins under her skin became inky.

“The reason why I told you all of this?” Mom asked. “Because eventually you won’t remember any of this. You won’t remember ever being here as Nadia. You won’t even remember Luc.”

Nadia lifted her head. “No.”

Sylvia nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“No!” she cried. “You can’t do that. You can’t take my memories. I won’t forget him.”

Sylvia said nothing as my heart cracked in my chest. She would forget him. I would forget all of him and all of this.

“I won’t forget him.” Nadia’s head jerked as her back bowed, the angle unnatural. “I won’t forget him. I won’t—”

She screamed as her arms twisted, her body bending as if all the bones had turned to liquid. Her head snapped to the side, and I gasped.

Nadia looked straight at where I stood, black seeping across the whites of her eyes like an oil spill. “Don’t forget.”

* * *

The abyss came for me and held me tight in its grasp until a new voice, one I was unfamiliar with, tugged me from the recesses of sleep. Drawn into a semiconscious state, I wasn’t sure if I was still dreaming or not.

The woman spoke softly, so I heard only bits of what she said, and it didn’t make a lot of sense. “It’s the same as it was last night. Her vitals are, well, they’re perfect. Like an athlete in her prime.” Her voice faded out only to return in the same quiet, calm tone. “All I can say is that she’s sleeping.”

“There is no way she’s just sleeping.”

Luc.

That was definitely Luc, and there was a heavy thread of concern along with a razor-sharp edge of anger. I wanted to tell him it was okay, because it was, but my bones felt like they were weighted with lead.

“I know, but there’s no