The Darkest Star (Origin 1)

The bluntness of his question was jarring. “You weren’t exactly nice to me when we first met. Like, at all.”

“I wasn’t,” he agreed.

I waited to see if he would add on to that statement, and when he didn’t, I sighed with irritation. “Look, I could go into extensive detail about all the signals you’ve been throwing off, but I really don’t feel like putting that much effort into it. You don’t seem to like me either, Luc.”

“I like you, Evie.” His hand lifted with startling quickness and he picked up a piece of my hair. “Lots.”

I snatched my hair free. “You don’t know me well enough to like me, and if you do like me, you have a terrible way of showing it. Terrible.”

Somehow he got closer, and I didn’t even know how, but when he spoke, his voice sent a shiver curling down my spine in an oddly pleasant way. “You’d be awed and amazed by what I do know.”

I resisted the urge to retreat.

“And I already told you. I don’t people well.”

“Not peopling well is a crap excuse,” I retorted, and started to step around him, but a sudden thought occurred to me. I stopped, refocusing on him. “Were you in my house last night?”

That half grin kicked up a notch. “If I was in your house last night, you would’ve definitely known.”

My stomach dipped like I was standing too close to the edge of a steep cliff. “I don’t know what that means.”

Luc opened his mouth.

I lifted a hand. “I don’t want to know what that means.”

He dipped his chin. “I think you know exactly what it means.”

I thought I did, but that was beside the point.

“Why would you ask if I was in your house last night?” he asked.

When I started to tell him it didn’t matter, I stopped myself. I found that I wanted to tell him—tell someone, to see if they, too, thought it was my imagination, like Zoe had. “When I was home last night, I heard a crashing sound downstairs, and when I went down there to check—”

“You hear a random noise in your house, you go downstairs and check it out?”

“What was I supposed to do? Call the police and say, ‘Hello, officer, I heard a noise downstairs. Can you come check it out?’”

“Yes,” he said. “Unless you’re equipped with a shotgun, and you just might be because of Sylvia, you don’t go downstairs.”

I shook my head. “Whatever. I went downstairs, and the back door was open even though I know damn well I’d closed and locked that door. And while I was standing there, I felt someone standing behind me, but when I turned around, no one was there. Then the back door slammed shut.”

Everything about Luc changed in that instant. The teasing quality to his voice and the curve of his lips were gone. “What else happened?”

“My . . . mom’s office door was open and it’s always locked. Always.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other as the scent of exhaust fumes rose. “One of my friends, Zoe, actually came over, and I think she thinks I was overreacting, but I know what I saw. What I heard and . . .”

“And?” he asked quietly.

I leaned against the side of the building and looked away. “I felt . . . I swore I felt someone touch me.” I waited for him to say something obnoxious, but when he didn’t, I drew in a shallow breath. “Mom went into her office last night when she got home, like she always does, but she didn’t mention anything. If something was taken or messed up, I think she would’ve said something to me. Like, asked if I’d been in the office.”

Luc was staring at me.

“I know Zoe thinks I left the door open, but I know I didn’t. It had to be a Luxen. How else could someone move so fast without me ever seeing them? I know it sounds bizarre, but—”

“No.” Luc’s jaw was as hard as his tone. “If you think someone was in your house, Evie, then someone was in your house.”

My heart turned over heavily. It was equally nice and disturbing to have someone believe me.

“You didn’t see anyone, though?”

I shook my head. “Like I said, they were fast. But why would a Luxen come into my home and not take anything and just leave?”

Luc didn’t answer for a long moment. “Well, that is the question of the day, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“But you know what the more important question is?” he asked. “What if a Luxen was in you house and they did take something? You said Sylvia’s office door was open, but it’s normally locked.”

“It’s always locked.” My gaze flew to his. “Why wouldn’t she mention that then?”

Luc didn’t answer for a long moment, and when he spoke, he didn’t answer the question. He posed another one. “How well do you think you know Sylvia Dasher?”