The Burning Shadow (Origin 2)

Within moments, Grayson was encased in light, and he was beautiful—like I imagined an angel looked. All he was missing was the wings.

“I think we need some music.” Kent hit a button on the steering wheel, and music blasted out of the speakers, startling me.

Music? Now was a good time to turn on music? Was he for real?

He was.

At first, I didn’t recognize the fast tempo of the drums or the words. Maybe under difference circumstances, I would’ve, but it was just noise—loud noise that made everything feel more surreal, so much more out of control. My heart rate kicked into overdrive as the white pouch slid from the seat, landing near my feet.

Tires screeched as Kent slammed on the brakes, pitching me forward. I would’ve ended up on the dashboard if Luc hadn’t thrown his arm out, clotheslining me. He grunted as the music flowed, “Oh! I see a man in the back—as a matter of fact his eyes are as red as the sun. And the girl—”

Zoe grabbed my flailing arm, pulling me back as the SUV suddenly careened, going up on two wheels as we spun in the middle of the road, skidding across asphalt.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” I yelled.

“Seat belt!” Luc shouted.

Grayson threw open the passenger door as the lyrics screamed, “And the man in the back said, ‘Everyone attack,’ and it turned into a ballroom blitz.”

Grayson exploded from the vehicle, holding on to the swinging door. For a split second, I was sure he had to be roadkill, but then he shot past our SUV, a blur of light shaped like a human.

“What’s he doing?” I shouted, twisting around as the SUV fishtailed, spinning like a top. My stomach heaved, and I smacked my hand over my mouth. Beside me, Luc hummed along with the music, his fingers tapping off his knee as the entire world spun, completely unaffected as he continued to look for my seat belt while bleeding from three bullet wounds.

In his true form, Grayson appeared between the SUV and the car. His light pulsed, flaring with a reddish tint.

The window beside Zoe shattered, spraying shards of glass everywhere—at my face, in my hair. Someone—Zoe or Luc—pushed on the back of my head.

A bolt of light shot out from Grayson, hitting the front tires of the vehicle.

Sparks flew out from under the front of the car, and it went completely airborne, flying right into the air as the speakers screamed.

The car flew over the SUV, flipping like a cartwheel, hood over trunk. My mouth dropped open.

The car slammed down on its roof on the other side of us, shaking our SUV.

“I’m going to be sick,” I moaned, not fighting when my head was shoved down again. “I’m going to be so sick.”

“And the girl in the corner said, ‘Boy, I want to warn you…’”

I jumped as I heard Grayson slam the front passenger door shut.

The SUV lurched into motion, tires spinning out as I was thrown up and back. My butt came off the seat as the SUV turned sharply. Zoe threw an arm out to brace herself, and I thought someone—maybe Luc—tried to catch me, but it was too late.

My head smacked into the ceiling of the SUV. Pain exploded and powered down my spine, knocking the air out of my lungs as starbursts erupted behind my eyes. There was a flash of blinding white and then a quiet, blissful nothing.22I was surrounded by the scent of pine and citrus and enveloped in humming warmth, lying in plush, warm grass as the hot summer sun beat down on me—on us.

I could stay here forever.

Whatever you want.

The memory dissipated like smoke at the sound of another voice. “You need to be careful, Luc.”

Grayson. He was here, not in my memory, but here, and I was … lying next to Luc? Yes. I was curled up beside him, my head in the crook of his shoulder. How I ended up here was a weird blur.

“I’m always careful,” Luc replied, his voice sounding weary but strong. Surprise flickered through me, because he’d been shot. Three times, and—

Everything came rushing back. April’s house. Luc being shot. Weird bullets. Me … me killing the woman, and then the car chase. I’d hit my head, but I felt fine. Rested. Warm, even.

Someone had healed me.

“Yeah, I’m going to have to disagree with that statement,” Grayson responded. “You got shot three times, Luc. You were distracted because of—”

“I may be lying on this bed, but if you blame her for this, I’m going to throw you through a wall. Not against one, but through one.” Luc’s voice was soft, too soft. “And that’s going to piss me off, because I like my apartment and really don’t want to get a wall replaced.”

I did not doubt for one second that Luc could do exactly as he warned.