The Better Part of Darkness

by Kelly Gay

  Her eyes narrowed into a calculating expression so obvious that I had to bite the inside of my cheek to hide my smile. Her voice was still soft and sleepy when she spoke. “Daddy still loves you, you know?”

  I released my teeth from my cheek, unsure of what to say, and sat on the toilet lid to give myself some time to form a response.

  “And he misses us.”

  If she hadn’t looked so calm and calculating, I would have pulled her into a hug. But this wasn’t a raw emotional moment. This was Matchmaking 101.

  “Em,” I began, and then changed my tactic from what I was about to do, which was pretty much pat my daughter on the head and not address the real issue. No, I didn’t want to brush her off, nor did I want to play make-believe. She shoved her wild hair behind both ears. “Here, gimme your brush and I’ll fix it.” I waited for her to turn around and then dealt with the tangles. “Did he tell you to tell me all this?”

  “No. But he’s sad and just misses us. I think you should give him a break, Mom.”

  “Mmm,” I responded, not really knowing what to say. “All done.” I set the brush on the counter. The bathroom had begun to steam, so I flicked on the ex haust fan. “Go get your breakfast. We’ll talk about Dad later. Hey, maybe we’ll go to Varsity and get some hot dogs for dinner, okay?” She gave an impatient nod, my attempt at distracting her obviously failing miserably.

  “You’ll think about it then?”

  “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

  She turned and hugged me with surprising strength, nearly choking me. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too, kid.”

  I remained on the toilet lid for a few more seconds, staring at the closed door and wondering how in the hell was I not going to disappoint her.

  It was a mistake to jump back into things with Will right now, but would she understand that? She was bright, thoughtful, and so open with her feelings. The last thing I wanted was to destroy her optimism and make her a jaded little version of me.

  Sighing and wishing I had a magical parenting manual with all the right answers, I stripped down and moved my stiff body into the shower, turning the knob to cool.

  The weakness that came with sleep clung valiantly to me even under the cool spray of the shower, but soon my mind woke up and my movements became quicker as I lathered my skin with soap.

  My body still felt the same, still looked the same, but inside I was different, changing, able to do things that no human should be able to do. Bryn’s words from the night before haunted me. I’d done some remarkable and horrible things, but I wasn’t facing them. I was forging ahead with the investigation and telling myself I’d deal with it later. Only, I knew myself well enough to know later would never come. Not if I could help it.

  How had I become so good at avoidance?

  It was the same with my past, avoiding thoughts of Connor and the guilt that plagued me. And it was the same with Will.

  The pipes whined as I turned off the shower and then stepped from the tub. Any thoughts of Connor and Will were pushed aside. I had too much to deal with today, and I couldn’t get distracted. That could, quite possibly, get me killed.

  After the shower, I crossed the apartment in a towel and my bare feet, speaking quickly to Bryn as she and Emma ate at the counter. “Just need to borrow some clothes.”

  I heard Bryn say to Emma as I entered my sister’s bedroom, “Don’t have to worry about your mom borrowing anything nice. She always picks the most boring things I own.”

  Emma giggled.

  “I heard that!” I called over my shoulder as I scanned her closet. Sorry, Bryn, but today happened to be the day I actually needed something nice. And her tapered black knee-high skirt and matching black sweater tank with cardigan would do nicely. I even snagged a pair of reasonable pumps.

  When I exited the room, Bryn choked on her orange juice. “Did someone die and I don’t know about it?”

  Emma came out of the spare bedroom with her backpack. She stopped mid-stride and eyeballed me from toe to head. Then she turned to my sister. “That’s a little better than boring, right, Aunt Bryn?”

  Bryn handed Emma her lunch bag. “Well, since they are my clothes, I’ll say yes. It’s a start.”

  “Thanks a lot,” I told them both and then focused on my sister. “Do you have a glamour spell lying around? I don’t want anyone to recognize me. Something small should do, change of hair color, that sort of thing.”

  “Sure. A batch just came in at the shop. Hold on a sec and I’ll get you one.”

  The CPP political rally had decided to use the momentum of my case to garner more media attention. Not exactly what I needed if I was to avoid the jinn and sneak into the rally and try to confront Otorius and Mynogan. Finding the source of the ash was priority number one, and the only lead I had was the CPP.

  After I parked the Mustang, I opened the foil package Bryn had given me and placed the small, paper-thin blue wafer onto my tongue. It dissolved instantly, making my eyes burn for a few seconds as an energetic tingle swept through my limbs to my fingertips and toes. Some of the residue hit the back of my throat, making me gag on a taste similar to Nyquil mixed with oregano.

  As the party trick worked its magic, I gathered Bryn’s big black purse, with my firearms inside, checked the side mirror, and then walked my new blonde-headed, green-eyed self across the parking lot, heels clicking against concrete with quick, no-nonsense steps. For forty-nine bucks you, too, could change your look for an hour or two. Small price to pay for some. Thank God, glamour spells were short-lived, or law enforcement would have one hell of a problem identifying suspects and criminals.

  My heart kept a steady beat against my rib cage as I moved toward the large crowd that had gathered in the outdoor venue of Centennial Plaza. A line of limos was parked nearby. The crowd was a mix of humans, jinn, goblins, imps, fae, and the occasional being from Elysia. Reporters from CNN, WSB-TV, 11ALIVE, FOX 5, and every other major news station in Atlanta were there. Maybe I should’ve brought along a pad and pen. Television cameras were set on either side of the stage as well as individual handhelds carried around by TV crews.

  The black outfit soaked up the late morning sun. By the time I weaved my way through the crowd to get a front-row view of the stage, sweat beaded my brow and lower back.

  The first speaker stepped onto the stage. The crowd jostled me forward. Otorius. For thirty minutes, I listened to him spout filth about the department and me in particular. It took everything I had not to vault onto the stage and arrest him simply for being an asshole.

  The crowd added to the heat in the plaza, making me remove the cardigan and drape it over my arm. Maybe black wasn’t the best choice. I wasn’t Charbydon like many of those around me, in their jackets and coats. It made me hot just looking at them.

  My sense of smell was unusually strong today. The races of Charbydon and Elysia had very distinct aromas, but they were normally only detectable up close and very personal. I guessed it was the crowd and the heat, but the unmistakable odor of tar covered me in a fine film.

  The droning on and on of one distinguished member after another added layers of agitation and impatience. Several times I spied jinn bodyguards scanning the crowd in their jackets and dark glasses, hands behind their backs. But, so far, thanks to Bryn, not one had given me a second glance.

  And then I noticed Cassius Mott standing on the edge of the stage, behind the blue curtain, talking to Otorius like they were old friends. His blasé attitude and cheesy grins made my blood boil. His kid was in the hospital and here he was hobnobbing with the CPP of all people? After years in law enforcement, it wasn’t that difficult to identify a drug user. And Cass had money and access and years of possession charges swept under the rug thanks to his brother’s close association with the ITF. But the fact that he was here, now, was a major red flag. The guy didn’t meddle in politics. I doubted he even knew the name of our governor.

  More importantly, Cass had the resources to manufacture a
nd/or distribute a new drug. Another suspect added to my mental list.

  Finally Mynogan stepped onto the temporary stage, drawing my gaze away from Cass. The crowd cheered and surged forward, pinning me against the barrier around the stage and only a few feet away from a jinn bodyguard. I gave him a geeky smile, shoved the sunglasses back up my nose with my middle finger, and assumed a rather pinched, proper look, keeping my lips thin and cheeks sucked in as I pretended to be engrossed in the speaker.

  “Welcome, citizens of Atlanta!” More cheers. “Thank you for coming today. And thank you for coming together, for bringing a sense of community to all races and beliefs. We are all one, and our voice is one …”

  Blah, blah, blah …Yeah, right. Charbydon nobles were as stuck-up and prejudiced as the Adonai. What the hell was he up to? He obviously supported the CPP, was no doubt a registered member by now. He spoke like a politician, looked like a politician, had the resources of a politician …

  Oh, hell.

  The setup was all right there, right in front of my face. He was going to run for office. Just what this city needed—another pompous ass with his own agenda.

  As I listened to him speak, hundreds of spidery footsteps crept up my spine. This guy was connected to me in a way that was tearing me apart from the inside out, and damned if I could figure out why. I analyzed him, noting his sharp black suit, his haughty carriage and mannerisms, yet nothing gave me answers. He’d gone without a coat, which I thought was strange, but perhaps nobles were more tolerant of the “cold” of the southern fall season. All I could get from him were super-bad vibes and a queasy stomach.

  Images of my nightmare flashed again; him smoothing back the blood-soaked hair from my white face.

  I slowed my pulse and regulated my breathing. Several minutes passed.

  Over and over, I reminded myself that he had no power over me, unless I allowed it. But I couldn’t seem to deliberately control the images and the turmoil inside my head the way I wanted. The only thing I could do was cover them with something else. So I changed my focus, remembering the conversation I’d had with Titus Mott. I felt like an idiot, but what the hell? If I truly had psychic abilities, then this was the perfect place for a test drive.

  I tried to sense the different energies around me, carefully reaching out, attempting to separate and pinpoint individual signatures. The dark sunglasses allowed me to study my neighbors openly.

  Nothing happened.

  I was too distracted, noticing every detail of each person I examined and making up wild backgrounds and MOs for them. Definitely not working. So, I tried closing my eyes and releasing the tension of Mynogan’s presence.

  Focus.

  I opened my mind and envisioned a cool, calming breeze to carry away all the negativity.

  Yes, that feels so much better.

  Immediately, a friendly energy pricked my consciousness, an aura in my mind that was green and confident in its power. Instinct kicked in and straightaway I thought: mage. I peeked and found the owner of that aura, a human, in the crowd and saw with open eyes the vibrant colors of green surrounding her. An energetic high swept through me. The next one was jinn. Red. Hot. Filled with irritation and ego. I scanned more of the crowd: another jinn, a goblin, and a Charbydon noble whose aura was a deep, dark purple, full of intelligence, cunning, and a good-sized helping of self-worth.

  Mott had been right. But somehow I’d known. I’d known all along. The super strength and the ability to heal had been a big shock, but this ability, to sense the auras of others in my mind and then to visualize them—I realized I’d had it for a while, just never allowed it to blossom, never intentionally tried to use it. I had always just called it instinct.

  My gaze drifted back to Mynogan. Goose bumps sprouted on my arms and thighs. His aura I didn’t need or want to see. I had a good idea it was blacker and hotter than newly poured asphalt.

  He neared the end of his speech, so I backed away slowly, slipping in between bodies, bumping shoulders and murmuring apologies as I went. My senses were on overdrive. Body odors. Brief flashes of auras. They compounded, building onto one another until I felt as though I was suffocating under a mound of off-world bodies.

  Lungs straining, I managed to break free of the crowd near the curb.

  Dear God! I leaned forward, gasping. But just for a moment. My glamour time was almost up, and I couldn’t afford to attract attention.

  I wasn’t sure what my plan was exactly, only that I needed to get to Mynogan. And I’d figured my opportunity would present itself at some point. When it did, I only had a few seconds to make up my mind. The speech ended with a roar.

  The bodyguards simultaneously turned their attention to the stage, but that would only last for a second. Without time to think, I sprinted around the limo sandwiched between two black SUVs, opened the passenger door, and slid inside, ducking down into the seat and hoping to hell no one had seen or heard me. The driver was standing outside on the other side, clapping.

  Quickly, I pulled my Nitro-gun from the bag and shoved it into the back waistline of the skirt. I prayed this was Mynogan’s limo and he wouldn’t do something unexpected, like get into one of the SUVs.

  I scooted to the far edge of the seat, made my posture straight and my expression blank. Whatever happened, I couldn’t lose my cool. Nobles respected control above all else.

  The door opened to a throng of legs and reporters’ shouts. I held my breath. The first to get in was the third unidentified Charbydon noble from Veritas. His face I remembered well; the classic features, the high cheekbones, and the sardonic mouth. A lock of sable hair fell into his eyes as he dipped his body into the cab of the limo. Eyes I thought were black were, in fact, the darkest midnight blue shot with silver flecks, like stars in a clear night sky. They widened in shock at finding me crouched against the door. But the shock was quickly replaced by a droll smile that cut slits into each side of his cheeks. Mirth and a brief flash of disbelief danced in his eyes as he sat down next to me, a puff of sage and cedar reaching my nose.

  I found my breath again, but it was almost sucked permanently from my lungs when Mynogan entered right behind him.

  He settled into his seat across from me and the other noble. I braced myself. The only thing that made me feel better was the cold press of my weapon at my back. As his eyes turned to me, no surprise or emotion flitted across his haughty face.

  The door shut, the sound echoing finality through my body. My hand itched to pull my gun, just to put a barrier between us.

  “All set, sir?” the driver asked, getting into the car.

  “Yes, Gavin, thank you,” Mynogan answered in an even tone, his black gaze never leaving mine.

  The car pulled away from the curb, and a thread of panic wove its way into my psyche. Claustrophobia closed in on me. I was in a tiny car with my worst nightmare.

  “Your glamour is fading, Detective Madigan,” he said evenly, adjusting the cuffs on his expensive wool jacket. “I’m sure you realize the entire city is looking for you.”

  My teeth clenched as his words struck anger in me. Much better than fear. I grabbed on to it like a lifeline. “If it wasn’t for the CPP …”

  The male next to me angled in his seat to watch me, his body deceptively relaxed. I ignored him, sensing he was more curious than threatening at the moment. One predator at a time, I told myself, redirecting my attention back to Mynogan. “I know this little charade of good citizenship is nothing but a smoke screen.”

  Mynogan’s lips lifted into what was supposed to be a smile, but it was more like a sick grimace. “Is that so?” He tugged his dress shirt cuffs out from under the suit jacket until the proper amount was shown to his satisfaction. “Do you know, Charlene—”

  “It’s Charlie.”

  His black stare lifted to mine for a second. “Do you know, Charlene, the kind of power the noble class holds?”

  Which translated into: how stupid are you to get into a limo with two of them? I bided my time, th
ough, before I had to pull my gun. “Of course I know. You’re the nobility of Charbydon. By right of bloodline, the nobles control the government, economy, and entire structure of your world. I know very well the power you hold.”

  “We’re an oligarchy, Detective,” the other one said in a deep, mellow tone that sounded way more sensual than it should. “Ruled by two kings, two different royal bloodlines, and overseen by a council of elders.”

  “Carreg is Lord Lieutenant of the House of Astarot,” Mynogan introduced the male next to me. “And I am High Elder of the House of Abaddon.”

  “I know the history,” I said, hiding my surprise at finding them to be actual royals—only royalty served in such high positions in their government. The Astarots and Abaddons kept mostly to their own world, only sending delegates and lesser nobles like Otorius to ours. “Since when do the two Houses agree?” I asked, knowing full well the two ruling families in Charbydon weren’t known for working together. They’d managed their world for eons, but were always, according to scholars, at odds. Kind of like Republicans and Democrats.

  They exchanged looks, and I detected a brief moment of tension. “We do agree on the continued prosperity of our people,” Carreg said slowly. “Cultivating a better relationship with your world will help us in that endeavor.”

  I started to ask him what he meant, but Mynogan interrupted.

  “But do you know the power inside us? The abilities we have, Charlene?”

  My nostrils flared. Oh, this guy was pushing it. “The name is Charlie, and unless you want me to start calling you Mynie then I’d suggest you use it.”

  Carreg covered his laugh with a soft cough as Mynogan leaned forward and pierced me with the blackest, most brutal stare. A streak of fear shot through my system, but his refusal to use my official title or my preferred name pissed me off. Eye for an eye, buddy.

  Pink tinged his perfect olive skin. “I could end your insignificant little life with a thought, Detective.” His voice dripped with menace and disgust. “You possess the life span of an insect and hold just as much power. You have no idea the influence we wield.”