Oblivion (Page 51)

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.

Pulling my hand free, I stepped back. My light slowly faded, and then I returned to the form she was more familiar with. “Kat.”

She stared at me, slowly shaking her head.

Perhaps I should’ve waited on the whole show-and-tell thing. “Kat?”

“You’re an alien,” she whispered as though trying to convince herself.

“Yep, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Oh…oh, wow.” She curled her hand, holding it to her chest. “So where are you from? Mars?”

“Not even close.” I laughed. “I’m going to tell you a story. Okay?”

“You’re going to tell me a story?”

I nodded as I dragged my fingers through my hair. “All of this is going to sound insane to you, but try to remember what you saw. What you know. You saw me do things that are impossible. Now, to you, nothing is impossible.” I waited for that to sink in. “Where we’re from is beyond the Abell.”

“The Abell?”

“It’s the farthest galaxy from yours, about thirteen billion light years from here. And we’re about another ten billion or so. There is no telescope or space shuttle powerful enough to travel to our home. There never will be.” As if our home still existed, I thought as I stared at my open palms. “Not that it matters if they did. Our home no longer exists. It was destroyed when we were children. That’s why we had to leave, find a place that is comparable to our planet in terms of food and atmosphere. Not that we need to breathe oxygen, but it doesn’t hurt. We do it out of habit now more than anything else.”

Recognition flared across her features, and I bet she was thinking about the day at the lake. “So you don’t need to breathe?”

“No, not really.” I shrugged. “We do out of habit, but there are times we forget. Like when we’re swimming.”

“Go on.”

I waited for a moment, wondering if she could handle all of this, and then decided to go for it. I refused to acknowledge the part of me that wanted her to know everything. The part that wanted to desperately know what she’d think if she knew the real me. “We were too young to know what the name of our galaxy was. Or even if our kind felt the need to name such things, but I do remember the name of our planet. It was called Lux. And we are called Luxen.”

“Lux,” she whispered. “That’s Latin for light.”

“We came here in a meteorite shower fifteen years ago, with others like us. But many came before us, probably for the last thousand years. Not all of our kind came to this planet. Some went farther out in the galaxy. Others must’ve gone to planets they couldn’t survive on, but when it was realized that Earth was sort of perfect for us, more came here. Are you following me?”