Home > Origin (Lux #4)(24)

Origin (Lux #4)(24)
Author: J. Lynn

Stepping out from under the cover of the trees, I let my human form take hold under a strong beam of sunlight. The guards were oblivious to my presence at first, and as I took another step forward, the conversation I had with Kat the night she finally admitted her feelings for me came to mind.

I’d told her that we made the good kind of crazy together, and I hadn’t known how true that really was until this very moment, because what I was about to do was really, truly, 100 percent certifiable.

The first guard, who was pulling something—a cell phone?—out of his black cargo pants, turned, his eyes drifting through the trees. His gaze moved over me and then darted back. The cell phone fell from his fingers, and he shouted, one hand going for the gun on his thigh and the other for the microphone on his shoulder. The two guards behind him whipped around, drawing their weapons.

Time to get this show on the road.

Summoning the Source, I stayed in my human form, but I knew the moment they became sure of what I was. It was probably my eyes. The world was tinted in a brilliant sheen.

A series of popping sounds followed, telling me that the guards weren’t messing around.

I raised my hand, and the bullets appeared to hit an invisible wall. In reality, it was the energy reflecting the bullets. I could’ve sent them back at the guards, but all I did was stop them. They fell to the ground harmlessly.

“I wouldn’t suggest you try that again,” I said, lowering my hand.

Of course they didn’t listen. Why? That would be too easy.

The guard in the front unloaded his weapon, and I repelled all the bullets. After a few seconds, I was so done with this. Turning around, I extended an arm back toward the trees. They began to tremble. Branches shook, sending a waterfall of green needles whirling into the air. Pulling them forward, I spun around.

Thousands of needles shot through the air, speeding forward. They split around me, heading straight for the dumbstruck guards.

The needles slammed into the men, turning them into human pincushions. Not killing them, but if their grunts of pain and surprise were any indication, it had to sting like a bitch. The guards were on their knees, guns forgotten on the ground beside them. Waving my hand, I sent their weapons flying into the woods, never to be seen again.

I prowled forward, passing them with a smirk. Summoning the Source once more, I let the energy crackle down my arm. A bolt of light hit the gate on the electric fence. A burst of white exploded, dancing across the chain-link, frying out the power to the fence and leaving a nice, comfy hole to walk right through.

Stalking over the neatly trimmed landscape that we had previously run across, I took a deep breath as the doors to Mount Weather slid open.

A freaking army of officers emptied out, dressed like they were ready for Armageddon or a guest spot on a SWAT team. Their faces were covered with shields, like that would help them. Going down on one knee, they leveled a dozen or so semiautomatic rifles on me. Stopping so many bullets would prove tricky.

People were going to die.

That sucked, but it wouldn’t stop me.

Then a tall, slender form came into view, walking out of the dimly lit tunnel. The men donned in black uniforms parted, never taking their rifles off me while allowing the primly dressed woman to easily navigate her way to the front.

“Nancy Husher,” I snarled, my hands curling into fists. I’d known the woman for years. Never liked her, which was compounded by the fact that I knew she worked within Daedalus and had known what really happened to Dawson.

Her mouth spread into the tight-lipped smile she was famous for, the one that said she was about to shove a wicked dagger into your back while kissing your cheek. She was just who I was hoping to find.

“Daemon Black,” she said, clasping her hands together. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Chapter 8


After the disastrous training session, I knew the taste of true fear each time someone neared my door. My heart hammered painfully until the sound of footsteps faded, and when the door finally opened, revealing Archer with my evening meal, I almost vomited.

I had no appetite.

I couldn’t sleep that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, all I could picture was Mo standing before me, more than ready to kick my ass every which way from Sunday. The vast emptiness that had clouded her eyes had quickly blossomed into determination. My beating may not have been as severe if I had fought back, but I hadn’t. Fighting her would have been wrong.

When the door opened the following morning, I was only running on a few hours of sleep. It was Archer, and in his quiet way, he motioned me to follow him.

Sick to my stomach, I had no other choice but to go wherever he was leading me. The nausea grew as we rode the elevator to the floor that housed the training rooms. It took everything in me to step off the elevator and not grab onto one of the bars for dear life.

But he led me behind the room we’d gone to before, through double doors, and then farther down a hall, where we passed through another set of doors.

“Where are we going?”

He didn’t respond until we stopped outside a steel door that glinted from an overabundance of onyx and diamonds. “There is something Sergeant Dasher wants you to see.”

I could only imagine what rested beyond the door.

He placed his forefinger against the security pad, and the light flipped from red to green. Mechanical clicks followed. I held my breath as he opened the door.

The room inside was lit only by one dim bulb in the ceiling. There were no chairs or tables. To the right was a large mirror that ran the length of the wall.

“What is this?” I asked.

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