Luc laughed. “Long story for a different day—if there is a different day.” Those extraordinary peepers slid back to me. “Do you have any idea what they will do to you if they realize you’re a fully functional hybrid?” He tipped his head down, grinning. “We are so very rare. Three of us together is actually quite amazing.”

“I have a good imagination,” I said.

“Do you?” Luc’s brows rose. “I doubt Blake has even told you the half of it—the worst of it.”

I glanced at Blake. His expression went on lockdown. An icy wind ran up my spine that had nothing to do with my lack of clothing.

“But you know that.” Luc stood and stretched, like a cat after a nap. “And still you are willing to take the huge risk of going into the hornet’s nest.”

“We really don’t have a choice.” Daemon shot the quiet Blake a dark look. “So are you going to give us the codes or not?”

Luc shrugged, running his fingers over the stacks of money. “What’s in it for me?”

I exhaled roughly. “Other than pissing off Daedalus, we really don’t have much to offer.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that.” He picked up a cluster of hundreds secured with a rubber band. A second later, the edges of the bills curled inward, paper melting until the scorched scent filled the air and nothing remained.

I was envious, considering the whole using-light-for-heat-and-fire thing completely passed me over. “What can we do for you?”

“Obviously money’s not an issue,” Daemon added.

Luc’s lips twitched. “Money isn’t needed.” He brushed his fingers off on his jeans. “Power isn’t, either. Honestly, the only thing I need is a favor.”

Blake snapped off the wall. “Luc—”

His eyes narrowed. “A favor is all I want—one that I can collect at any time. That’s what I want in return, and I’ll give you all you need to know.”

Well, that sounded easy. “O—”

“Wait,” Daemon cut me off. “You want us to agree to a favor without knowing what that favor is?”

Luc nodded. “Where’s the risk if you know everything?”

“Where’s the intelligence if we don’t?” Daemon shot back.

The kid laughed. “I like you. A lot. But my help doesn’t come without its own peril in exchange.”

“God, you’re like the preteen mafia,” I muttered.

“Something like that.” He flashed a beatific smile. “What you—all of you—don’t understand is there are things much, much bigger than a brother’s girlfriend or a friend…or even ending up under the man’s thumb. There’s change brewing behind the winds, and the winds are going to be fierce.” He looked at Daemon. “The government fears the Luxen, because they represent mankind’s fall from the top of the food chain. To fix that, they’ve created something much stronger than a Luxen. And I’m not talking about ordinary little baby hybrids.”

I shivered. “What are you talking about?”

His purplish eyes met mine, but he said nothing.

Paris folded his arms. “Not to be rude, but if you’re not willing to deal, there’s the door.”

Daemon and I exchanged looks. I honestly didn’t know what to say. It seriously was like making a deal with the mafia—with a creepy kid-mafia boss.

“Guys,” Blake said. “He’s our only chance.”

“Christ,” Daemon muttered. “Fine. We owe you a favor.”

Luc’s eyes gleamed. “And you?”

I sighed. “Sure. Why not.”

“Awesome! Paris?” He held out his hand. Paris bent down, grabbed a small MacBook Air, and handed it over. “Give me a sec.”

We watched him punch away at the keyboard, brows drawn in concentration. While we waited, a door at the back of the room opened and the young girl from the stage peeked her head into the room.

Luc’s head jerked up. “Not now.”

The girl’s frown was epic, but she closed the door. “She’s the girl on—”

“Don’t finish that sentence if you want me to continue. Don’t even talk about her. Frankly, you’ve never even seen her,” Luc said, eyes fastened on the screen again. “All deals will be off.”

I clamped my mouth shut even though I had a thousand questions about how the two of them got away and how they were surviving virtually unprotected.

Finally, Luc placed the laptop on the desk. The screen was split into four sections, black and white, also grainy, like security film. One image contained woods. Another was of a tall fence and gate, the other a security booth, and the final one showed a man in uniform patrolling another section of fence.

“Say hello to Mount Weather—owned by FEMA, secured by Homeland Security. Nestled away in the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains, it’s used as a training facility and a stowaway for all the pretty officials in case someone bombs us,” Luc said, snickering. “Also known as a complete front for the DOD and Daedalus, because underground, there are six-hundred thousand mother-effin’ square feet for training and torture.”

Blake stared at the screen. “You hacked into their security systems?”

He shrugged. “Like I said, star pupil and all. See this section here.” He pointed to the screen where a guard patrolled the fence, almost blending into the grainy background. “This is the ‘secret’ entrance that doesn’t exist. Very few people are aware of it—Blakey-boy is.”




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