The Burning Shadow (Origin 2)

“Not far at all. A handful of miles,” he answered. “MARTA rail system runs from Atlanta to here. A lot of commuters. A lot of people that aren’t going to pay attention to us.”

My hands twisted together nervously. “The … trees are beautiful. Creepy but beautiful.”

“Decatur is an old town, founded before the Civil War.” Luc shifted on the seat beside me. A second later, he smacked his hand down on the back of the seat, making me jump.

“What the—?” Zoe shot up, stopping mere inches from hitting her head on the roof of the car. She swung toward Luc, eyes narrowing. “Asshole.”

He grinned as he lifted his hand, dragging his fingers through the messy waves. “We’re almost there.”

“You know, you could have woken me up in a nice way,” she shot back.

He chuckled under his breath. “You know me better than that.”

“True,” she muttered, sitting back. Her gaze flickered to mine. “How long have you been up?”

“Just a few moments.”

“Bet he didn’t wake you up like that.” She sighed.

I grinned a little, and it felt weird as I faced the front. Letting out a shaky breath, I went back to staring out the window, because that was easier than, well, thinking about everything at the moment. The Yukon slowed and then hung a right, climbing a steep hill. Sunlight peered through the trees as some of the oaks cleared. A house came into view.

A large log-style house.

Two stories with a raised front porch, the place looked like a retreat. I leaned forward, my gaze skating over the many windows. “Whose house is this?”

“Mine,” answered Luc.

Leaning back from the window, I looked over at him. “What?”

One side of his mouth kicked up. “I own many properties under a false identification with real money.” He paused, scratching idly at his chest. “This is one of them.”

Shock rendered me speechless, and I didn’t know why, out of everything that had happened, him owning multiple properties surprised me so much. Maybe it was because he hadn’t mentioned it. Then again, I couldn’t fathom when that would’ve come up in conversation.

The Yukon halted outside of a wooden garage door. Grayson opened the passenger door. The engine was still rumbling when where we were really truly hit me.

I wasn’t in Maryland anymore.

I was in Georgia, in a town I’d never heard of.

“What happens now?” I asked no one in particular.

It was Luc who answered. “We go inside.”

Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I looked at him.

“We rest up. We wait,” he said, his gaze holding mine. “That’s what we do.”

None of that sounded like enough. Not at all. We could rest. We could wait. But there was more. “We need to find out what the hell was done to me and why it led to this.”

Admiration danced across his striking features. “We will.”* * *The inside of the house was jaw-dropping, just as beautiful and spacious as it was on the outside. The lower level was completely open, the space dominated by a large living room with one of those sectional couches that were two wide cushions deep; the kind of couch that sucked you in and never let you out. There was a TV about the size of the Yukon mounted to the wall. There was a dining area and a kitchen worthy of a top chef. There were stairs that led to a second floor.

“Do people live here regularly?” I asked, thinking it was a waste of beautiful space for it to sit empty.

Luc walked ahead, toward the kitchen. “A lot of people are in and out, but no one stays here on the regular.”

“It’s my favorite place.” Kent dived onto the couch, landing with a happy-sounding grunt. “‘Wake me up before you go-go…’”

I stopped behind the couch, frowning at him. He’d face-planted on one of the cushions, and all I could see was the limp, blue mohawk.

Grayson drifted into the kitchen, following Luc, who was now at the fridge. “We’re going to need to stock up on some food and drinks,” he said, head tilted as he eyed whatever was in the fridge.

“How long do you really think we’ll be here?” I asked.

“As long as it takes for Daemon to know what went down.” Closing the door, he straightened and walked behind a huge kitchen island. “That’s what we’re waiting on. See that door there?” He nodded at the two across the kitchen. “The one on the left is the pantry. The one on the right leads down into the basement. Don’t go down into the basement.”

“Well, that sounds like the start of every horror film,” I replied.

He shot me a dry look.

I lifted my hands. “Okay. Whatever.” Not like I was planning to. Basements were always full of spiders, cobwebs, and ghosts, but now I was super curious.

Zoe brushed past me. “I’m heading upstairs to pick out a room.”