The Better Part of Darkness (17 page)

The entire room froze. Even Grigori.

My blood pressure soared. With one bad move I’d be history, and I prayed to God I was reading him right.

Another eruption of laughter boomed through the room, startling me and everyone else. Grigori’s chair shook with the sound. As it receded, he wiped the corners of his eyes with his napkin. “Charlie Madigan. You make me laugh. You’re not the brightest female in the world coming here like this, but you have
grômms,
I’ll give you that. You and me, we will bargain.”

A female jinn shot up from a table at the far end of the chamber. “She cannot bargain; she has nothing! Her blood, her blood for my Neruk!”

Jaws dropped. It was obvious she’d made a terrible, fatal mistake.

Grigori pushed back from the table and stood, both hands coming to rest flat on either side of his plate as he focused on her. Her dark gray skin turned to light ash. She fell to her knees and tripped over desperate-sounding words in the jinn tongue.

A vein thickened in Grigori’s temple and ran back along his bare head. His eyes glowed brighter and brighter. His breathing became shallow, taxed, but also in a way that suggested he relished this part of his job. He shouted something short and brusque, causing the female’s head to jerk up. Their eyes connected. Power leaked into the chamber. The hairs on my arms rose as the female’s eyes began to glow so bright, they burned. No one moved to help her. A primal scream tore from her throat as violet-orange flame shot from her eye sockets and open mouth.

Appalled silence descended on the chamber as she fell over dead, black blood and brain matter leaking from her ears, eye sockets, and open mouth.

I gulped down the repulsion that rose in my throat, stunned by her death. I knew the jinn had power, and I also knew the tribe boss possessed the power of life and death over his tribe. I just never realized how literal that statement really was until now.

Hank emanated such intense fury that I closed my hand over his wrist and squeezed.

Grigori scanned the room, daring anyone else to object. Satisfied, he sat down and resumed eating. After he stuffed another huge piece of steak in his mouth, he said, “What can you give me? Why do you come here instead of awaiting my summons?”

Good question. “I came to ask for time, and for information.”

“You are confused.” He waved his fork as he spoke. “You, Detective, owe
me
. Not the other way around.”

“I don’t have the monetary value of your two warriors,” I said carefully. “And I probably never will. But I do have access to the ITF, to things you might find useful.” Hank went rigid beside me. I was treading a very thin line between good cop and bad cop, but I had to find something that would satisfy Grigori for the time being. And then I’d arrest his ass for drug trafficking and murder. I’d say whatever I had to in order to walk out of there in one piece.

He thought as he chewed, eyeing me like a cat deciding how to first play with its mouse before devouring it. “I will consider debt paid for one of my warriors,” he began slowly, “if you arrange visitation for one of my jinn to see Lamek Kraw in cold cell”—he spat on the floor at those two words—“and you put my daughter on your payroll at ITF.”

Sian sucked in a horrified gasp, just as pleased as I was at the prospect of her working for the ITF.

Sure, getting her a position at ITF could be arranged if it came to that, but getting the folks at Deer Isle Federal Prison in Maine to pull Lamek Kraw out of cold cell confinement for a visit was going to be highly unlikely. But, with luck, I’d have Grigori Tennin joining his jinn brethren in the north as soon as I made it out of this cave.

“And for the second?” I asked.

“The second … I will think on it and let you know.”

“Done,” I said. “I’ll need time to make arrangements.”

Grigori shrugged as though he couldn’t care less, but I saw through the game. He had something brewing inside that huge skull of his and there was only one thing better to a jinn boss than extracting revenge in blood—putting the law in their pockets. Of course, I was lying my ass off and playing a dangerous game with a dangerous criminal, but I didn’t have any other options at the moment. I couldn’t hide from the jinn and the debt unless I wanted to leave town and disappear. And I wasn’t going to turn tail and run, not from my city.

“Jazel Tel is the name of my jinn who will go north. You have two days.”

My face was on fire, but I nodded, knowing full well he could see right through my lies, and that made me more concerned than anything else. With a dim glow in his cunning violet eyes, he leaned close and held out his massive hand.

The last thing I wanted was to make contact, but I wasn’t about to back down now. Gritting my teeth, I placed my hand in his, ready to shake on it, but he jerked me forward. My ribs crashed into the table as one of the female guards whipped out a wicked-looking blade, stepped to the table, and, in one swift movement, pressed the sharp tip against Hank’s Adam’s apple, blocking him from making a move.

Grigori slammed my hand down on the table and used his dagger to slice my palm clean open, the sting of cut flesh robbing me of breath. His hand held my wrist firmly, squeezing so hard I was sure the bones would crack. His wide nose nearly touched mine.

Indignation and rage fired my blood, surging through me with that familiar hum of power and clouding my vision so badly it was like wearing prescription eyewear that wasn’t yours. Nausea rolled through my stomach. I closed my eyes, using every ounce of strength to bank the power and stay in control.

“Swear it. Swear your oath now, Detective,” he demanded in a hiss of words, his eyes bright and fervent and his breath reeking of wine and steak. “In blood. At my table. Do it.”

My teeth ground together, as I wanted nothing more than to slam my fist into his overbearing face. “I swear.”

Grigori Tennin gave me one last hard look and then released me. “She is bound!” he shouted to the tribe, his words echoing deeply through the chamber.

I slumped against the table for a second to catch my breath and then pushed back, cradling my bloody hand and wondering if being “bound” was really as bad as it sounded. The guard sheathed her dagger and returned to her station behind Grigori.

Grigori’s mouth widened in a slow Cheshire grin. “Watch out for the rogues and sympathizers, though, Detective. There are many, I think, who would like to see your blood soak the ground.” He chuckled as though he’d made some intensely witty joke and then returned to his meal.

Without a parting look, I pivoted and limped out of the chamber, my ankle still sore. Asshole. The initial pain of the cut had subsided, leaving my palm with a strong, pulsating ache. “We need a sample of that drug,” I said to Hank as we passed through the stone archway.

“Not now.”

He grabbed my arm as I stumbled on the uneven ground, my chest burning with sour rage. His fingers squeezed my bicep, and he leaned slightly so our words wouldn’t carry down the corridor. “You’re bleeding, and unless you want to deal with the advances of a bunch of sex-crazed jinn, save it for another time.”

Our passing, well,
my
passing drew every jinn female to the archways to watch. “They wouldn’t care if it hadn’t been for you,” I whispered sharply.

We had to press our backs flat against the wall as a group of females carried Len like a trophy down the corridor. I suppressed a shiver at the bright gleam in their eyes. Poor guy had gotten
way
more than he’d bargained for when he bought that spell.

Once we were through the bar and out onto Solomon Street, I had to pause to catch my breath. Every muscle ached and the damn heels were getting on my last nerve. I wanted to hit something or scream at the top of my lungs. Instead I jerked off one of the pumps and flung it with a low screech at the brick wall. It bounced back and nearly hit Hank.

I stood there for a long moment, my good hand on my hip, in utter disbelief at how wrong everything was going. Hank picked up the pump and handed it to me. I glared at him for a long moment before taking the damn thing and putting it back on.

The streetlamp gave me just enough light to inspect my wounded palm. It was angry red and still bleeding. He’d cut me with his nasty steak knife, which meant I needed to disinfect ASAP. I marched down Solomon Street and didn’t stop until I came to the plaza where Solomon converged with Mercy and Helios.

Hank was right behind me and grabbed my hand when I stopped. “Here. Let me see.” The grave sigh that followed and the grim set of his jaw made me snatch my hand away.

“What? It can’t be infected already.” I looked down. My heart skipped a beat. It was far from infected. It had partially healed. Already.

“You’ve started seeing auras. You went ballistic with those jinn in Underground. And you’re healing yourself.” He pulled me to large water fountain in the center of the plaza and held my hand underneath.

Cold water sent a welcome chill up my arm, and I gave up my anger and resistance, sitting tiredly on the fountain ledge as he rubbed the grime from my palm.

“There’s no doubt you have power,” he began, quiet and thoughtful. He didn’t have to tend to my wound, but I sensed he needed something to do. And for some reason, I let him. “It’s wild, sporadic, whatever it is …” A lock of sweat-dampened hair fell over his forehead and touched the bridge of his nose. He blew it out of the way, and it made me smile. “Your death could’ve unlocked dormant abilities, or maybe you’re just a late bloomer. We know it runs in the family because of your grandmother and Bryn …”

I didn’t enlighten him about the special relationship I’d had with my twin brother.

For so long I’d denied having or wanting any extra abilities beyond my own God-given human talents. But now, I couldn’t hide it. It was coming out of me whether I liked it or not. The lack of control freaked me out
more
than a little. I didn’t know when or where I’d lose it, and the last thing I wanted right now was to be hauled into ITF Headquarters for evaluation and specialized training.

“I know that look,” Hank interrupted my thoughts.

“What look?”

“The Queen of Denial look. It’s a little too late for that.”

“I wasn’t going to deny it,” I muttered. “I just don’t
want
it, whatever it is.”

“What’re you so afraid of? The average population would kill for any kind of psychic gift, much less the power to heal themselves.”

The rhythmic fall of water into the basin
should
have been calming. The cool spray of water
should
have doused the heat in my face. But it didn’t. What did he know anyway? “I’m not afraid.”

Since it was a lame denial, he didn’t bother with a reply, just dropped my hand, sat down on the ledge, rested his elbows on his knees, and pressed both palms against his tired eyes. “The chief might be able to get Sian some sort of dummy job and even pull strings at Deer Isle, but he isn’t going to authorize a raid on the Lion’s Den.”

“Tennin practically admitted it. Besides, you saw them making it.”

“You’re always so gung-ho, Charlie,” he said, flicking a glance my way. “We saw them making
something
. That’s not enough to go up against an entire tribe.”

“And you’re always so damn cavalier. If I wasn’t a walking sex pheromone, I probably could’ve snagged one of those flowers. Then the lab could’ve analyzed it, connected it to
ash,
and maybe we would’ve had something solid to take to the chief. And if I don’t arrest Tennin’s ass in two days, he’s going to come after mine.”

His shoulder slumped, and his hands grabbed both sides of his head. A short laugh, devoid of humor, escaped him. Then he straightened and looked at me with a wry smile. “Guess lobbing that spell vial wasn’t the best idea in the world.”

Yeah.

He stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see what the chief can do about Lamek Kraw and Sian. It might be better coming from me.” I rolled my eyes, but Hank had a point. He was way better at defusing the chief’s temper than me. I always seemed to make things worse. “You want me to walk you to Bryn’s, protect you from all your hard-up jinn fans?”

“Ha, ha.” It was only a few yards from the plaza. I could make it on my own. I shook my head. “No, go home and get some rest. We’ll meet with Mott later. I’m gonna wash this spell off of me, and see if Bryn knows anything about that flower we saw. I’ll call you later.”

People passed by in a blur as I stared at the healing wound on my palm. Hank was right—most people would kill to have this ability, and I wasn’t knocking it, but the weight of the unknown, of what this might mean, turned my stomach. I’d faced down ghouls and hellhounds without blinking an eye. I
wasn’t
afraid. My throat closed as the truth danced in front of my face. I hated Hank in that moment, hated to admit that he’d nailed it.

Big deal. So I was a little hesitant to admit there was something massively wrong inside me.
Not hesitant, you idiot. You’re scared shitless and you know it.

My shoulders slumped.

I didn’t want to be reminded. Feeling the strength and power inside of me was too familiar. It reminded me too much of Connor, of how it felt when he spoke to me in his mind, of all the times from our toddler years to our teens.
Until you cut him off
. The zing, the tiny hum of energy was him all over again. And honestly, it hurt too damn much to tolerate. The fact that part of it was a darkness that seemed to gain ground inside of me every day made it even harder to accept. I was supposed to be the good guy.