Oblivion (Lux, #1.5)

“What?” Frustration rose in her voice. “You say you’re not human, and that limits the pool of what you can be! You stopped a truck without touching it.”


“You read too much.” I exhaled slowly. “We’re not werewolves or witches. Zombies or whatever.”

“Well, I’m glad about the zombie thing. I like to think what’s left of my brains are safe,” she muttered, and I glanced at her sharply. “And I don’t read too much. There’s no such thing as that. But there’s no such thing as aliens, either.”

I leaned forward quickly, curving my hands over her bent knees. Her eyes widened as they locked with mine. “In this vast, never-ending universe, do you think Earth—this place—is the only planet with life?”

“N-no,” she stammered. “So that kind of stuff…that’s normal for your… Hell, what do you call yourselves?”

After a beat of silence, I leaned back and tried to figure out what the best way to go about this was. I’d never had to tell anyone about us before. This was a first. And she looked like she was seconds away from laughing hysterically. Not necessarily good.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” I admitted. “Not that I can read your mind, but it’s written all over your face. You think I’m dangerous.”

She wetted her lips. “This is crazy, but I’m not scared of you.”

“You’re not?” Surprise shuttled through me.

“No.” She laughed, and it had a concerning edge to it. “You don’t look like an alien!”

I arched a brow. “And what do aliens look like?”

“Not…not like you,” she sputtered. “They aren’t gorgeous—”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” I smiled.

Her eyes narrowed. “Shut up. Like you don’t know that everyone on this planet thinks you’re good-looking.” She grimaced. “Aliens—if they exist—are little green men with big eyes and spindly arms or…or giant insects or something like a lumpy little creature.”

I let out a loud laugh. “ET?”

“Yes! Like ET, asshole. I’m so glad you find this funny. That you want to screw with my head more than you guys have already screwed with it. Maybe I hit my head or something.” She started to push to her feet.

“Sit down, Kat.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” she fired back. There was my Kitten. I let out a sigh of relief. If she could yell at me, she wasn’t as afraid as I’d feared. We might just make it through this shit storm.

I stood fluidly, keeping my arms at my sides while I allowed my eyes to change. “Sit. Down.”

Kat stared at me—stared at what was likely my green eyes glowing surreally. She sat down. And saluted me.

She literally just saluted me with her middle finger.

Wow. How could I not appreciate that kind of backbone? I grinned even wider. This girl could slay me if I let her.

“Will you show me what you really look like? You don’t sparkle, do you? And please tell me I didn’t almost kiss a giant brain-eating insect, because seriously, I’m gonna—”

“Kat!”

“Sorry,” she muttered.

Closing my eyes, I struggled for patience and calm. When I was sure I could shift without accidentally burning half the forest, I shed my human skin. I knew the moment the transformation was complete because I heard her say, “Holy shit.”

To her, I would look like a man made out of light, which wasn’t too far from what we really were. I opened my eyes. Kat had a hand up, shielding her eyes. The light I threw off was intense, turning night into day.

When I was in my true form, I couldn’t speak in a language that Kat would understand, so I did something I’d only ever done with those of my kind. This was also forbidden. But so was everything I was doing right now, so really, might as well go the whole nine yards.

Luxen had the ability to transfer our thoughts telepathically to one another. We could communicate that way if we were in our true forms, which wasn’t often, but humans could not respond back. We couldn’t pick up on their thoughts.

This is what we look like.

Kat gasped.

We are beings of light. Even in human form, we can bend light to our will. I paused. As you can see, I don’t look like a giant insect. Or…sparkle.

“No,” she whispered.

Or a lumpy little creature, which I find offensive, by the way. I lifted my arm, stretching out my hand to her, palm up. You can touch me. It won’t hurt. I imagine that it’s pleasant for humans.

She swallowed as she glanced at my hand and then up toward the general vicinity of where my eyes were. The she reached out. Her fingers brushed mine. A jolt of electricity, totally safe, transferred from my hand to hers. Whitish-red light danced up her arm. I smiled as her eyes widened.

Gaining courage, she wrapped her fingers around mine, causing little wisps of light to whip out and circle her wrist. My light enveloped her hand.

Figured you’d like it.

Truth was, I liked it, too. In my true form, I was hypersensitive to, well, everything. I liked her touch. Probably a little too much.