The Brightest Night (Origin 3)

But me?

Would these same people become more comfortable with me once I’d been here awhile? Once I proved I didn’t fall into the stranger-danger category?

I hoped so, because for the foreseeable future, this was my home. Our home. Luc and I actually had a home together. Sort of. Wasn’t like we went out and picked out an apartment or something, but it was just us. Either way, the flutter in my chest had pterodactyl-size wings.

Zone 3 had to become my home, because not only did I need to be somewhere where I could continue to work on the Source, neither the Daedalus nor the Sons of Liberty could find me here.

Hopefully.

Right now, I was safe here. It took no leap of logic to know I wouldn’t be if I were out there. I needed to make this work.

I had Zoe, and Heidi would be here soon, and they were more than enough, but I needed to make friends here, too. Connections. Something that led to something other than a half-scared smile. Hell, I’d be happy with a hello. Seemed silly in the big scheme of things, but I wanted to feel like I was a part of what they were doing here and not like an unwanted guest.

They just needed time. That’s all.

I added that thought to the “Kat and baby would be a-okay” record and hit the mental Repeat button.

Shifting on the couch, I unfurled my legs. My stomach ached a little. The quick dinner Zoe and I had ended up eating while we’d waited for news had only tempered my appetite. Maybe I was having sympathy contractions.

Man, Kat was a boss. When Dee had given us an update, she’d briefly mentioned there were no pain meds. Kat had opted out of them in case someone else needed them more than she did. Like, who needed it more than someone pushing out a tiny person? Au naturel childbirth had nope written all over it. There was absolutely no way I could do that without being high as a kite.

The wind kicked up the heavy canopy, and outside the carport, the night was dark and silent with the exception of the occasional cricket … or pain-filled scream. Snuggling under the quilt, I glanced over my shoulder to the side door that hadn’t opened in quite some time. I hadn’t gone inside with Luc, because even though Kat and I had gotten to chat the day before, I didn’t know her like that. I didn’t want to intrude in moments meant to be shared with family and friends. I didn’t want to be in the way, and well, I hadn’t been invited.

Not to mention I really didn’t want to see what was going on in there.

The strange tickling sensation danced its way over the nape of my neck, and this time, I didn’t do the is-there-a-bug-on-me dance. I waited to see if a Luxen showed up or if a giant spider crawled across—

I jerked my head toward the side door as an exhausted scream shattered the calm, ending in a weary groan. I grimaced, lifting the quilt to my chin. I really, really needed to find out if Origins and non-Origins could make babies, because there was nothing about any of what was going on inside that house that I wanted a part of. Ever.

“You look officially traumatized.”

Gasping, I spun my head around. Grayson stood just inside the canopy, the string lights casting a warm glow over his form, and yet, he still reminded me of one of those carvings done in ice. Wariness trickled through me. After today, I was confident he was fantasizing about turning me into an episode of Forensic Files in which I was murdered and my body fed to hogs.

He arched an eyebrow that was only a shade or two darker than the swept-back blond hair. “I scared you.”

“No.” I still held the quilt to my chin. “You didn’t.”

“Is that so?” Grayson smirked, and boy, he could deliver some of the most impressive smirks I’d ever seen. He glanced over my shoulder to the closed door, and then his glacial-blue eyes settled on me. “You do look traumatized.”

Slowly lowering the quilt, I mulled over how to answer that question. Grayson and I had probably only had one almost noncombative conversation since I had known him, and while he might’ve said that the dotted effect my skin took on earlier was beautiful, he also could’ve been suffering from extreme brain trauma at that point. I had no idea what he’d been doing before he’d joined Luc and me. He could’ve been repeatedly banging his head against a wall for all I knew.

“Listening to someone in labor is a little traumatizing,” I finally said.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a Blow Pop. One of his Luxen talents had to be conjuring an endless supply of those things. “Then I hope you and Luc are being careful.”