The Better Part of Darkness (30 page)

My lungs deflated. Shit. “What else?” I knew there was more.

“Oh, it gets better, Madigan. I went and raided the Lion’s Den. And you know what? Didn’t find a goddamn thing! Held that bastard in cold cell for three days while we searched! And you know what all it’s gotten me?”

I was afraid to ask. But I didn’t have to.

“Fired! That’s what it got me!”

Hank and I winced at the same time.

“So what about us? The department knows now that I was attacked, that Mynogan was behind the kidnapping.”

A sharp laugh jiggled the chief’s angry cheeks. “You’re not off the hook! Neither one of you is. You can’t just go renegade and run around the city killing off-worlders, even if they are bad. What you both did should land you in jail.”

“Should?”

The chief’s indignation diffused somewhat, and he relaxed into the chair by the bed. “I’ve been offered a new job.”

“What?” Hank and I said in unison.

“Yeah, and you two nutcases are coming with me.”

A quick glance at Hank told me he was as stunned as I was. And we were both hesitant to ask where.

“All right, I’ll ask,” Hank finally said. “Going where?”

“The fifth floor.” At our confused faces, he laughed. “Yeah, I know. There is no name for where we’re going. Just a floor. The fifth in ITF Building One.”

“But the fifth floor is the clerical floor. There’s nothing up there but accountants, bookkeepers, and records clerks.” What the hell was the chief talking about?

“Have you ever been up there, either of you?” We both shook our heads. “Well, there you go. Look, we’ve been given a chance by the higher-ups to keep our heads above water after this fiasco. We answer to no one but them, and as far as the ITF is concerned, they’re on a need-to-know basis.”

“So, what, we’re classified now?” A laugh escaped me.

“To the rest of the world, pretty much. To the assholes and criminals on the street, we’re gonna be their worst nightmare.”

A slow grin split Hank’s face. “I’m liking the sound of this.”

I liked it, too, but then my sane voice interrupted. I couldn’t do this anymore. I’d almost died twice in one year. There was my daughter to consider here. I shook my head and let out a deep sigh. “I can’t do it, Chief. I can’t.”

The chief’s pupils dilated to hard points. “You don’t have a choice, Madigan. It’s either prison or this. You tell me which one is better for your kid.” I felt as if the breath had been kicked out of me. “Look, I know how you’re feeling right now. I know why you don’t want to do this anymore. But damn it, Charlie, the higher-ups aren’t doing this to be nice. They want you and Hank, and they’ll use any leverage they’ve got. Look at it this way,” he said, sitting back. “You can heal yourself now. You got more protection than any off-worlder I know. You bled out almost entirely. Hell, you didn’t even need a transfusion when you got to the hospital.”

That shocked me. “I didn’t?” A creepy sensation crawled up my spine, and all I could see was blood in my vision and the taste of it in my mouth.

I’d kept Mynogan’s blood. Oh, God, I was going to be sick.

Hank was beside me, hand on my back. “Breathe through it,” he said gently. “Deep breaths.”

I put my head toward my knees as waves of nausea rolled through me.

“He’s not
in
you, Charlie. Your body used what it could to keep you alive, but you had enough of your own blood in you to recoup it as you healed.”

It sounded like a theory to me, not fact, but I had to give props to Hank for trying. “So what kind of job are we talking?” I asked, easing back onto the pillows and not wanting to think about blood.

“Well, let’s just say the ITF has cases that need to be handled outside the normal confines of the law. That’s where we come in. You answer to me. I answer to a contact in Washington. And you two have already proven you’ll go above and beyond. The head honchos have been looking for a new team to work Atlanta for months. I know it’s not fair, Charlie, but it’s all we got, and I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

The chief stood, signaling the end of this little meeting. “As soon as you’re recovered, we’ll get to work. The CPP may be disbanded, but Mynogan had a loyal following. And we still have a lot of unanswered questions when it comes to
ash
and Tennin’s involvement. It’s not over.” He opened the door and sighed. “And apparently we have an escaped Adonai serial killer on the loose.”

For some reason that didn’t surprise me. Just add it to the other things on the list: nailing Grigori Tennin, getting Will’s soul back, fixing Hank’s voice-mod problem, ridding myself of this power inside of me, having a heart-to-heart with my daughter because there was no way I could keep lying to her … And now Llyran had escaped.

Just a day in the life,
I thought ruefully.

After the chief left, Hank sat on the edge of the hospital bed and, like me, took a long moment to ponder the chief’s words. Finally he straightened his back, dragged his fingers through his hair, and turned his gaze to me. “So, are we doing this, then?”

What choice did we have?

Going off the grid, having no one to answer to but the chief, being the worst nightmare to criminals who deserved it … I gave him a shrug, feeling a small smile tug the corners of my mouth. “What the hell.”

It was fitting that my first view of the darkness I’d brought to Atlanta would be seen with Hank at my side. I’d kept the hospital curtains drawn, hadn’t asked about it, and had basically avoided the issue until the last possible minute. And now it couldn’t be avoided; I had to leave the hospital. Of course, leaving in a wheelchair wasn’t exactly my style, but I cooperated because, quite frankly, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand once I saw the damage I’d done.

Maybe sitting down was the best thing for everybody.

“Aaron said it won’t last,” Hank said quietly as he pushed me through the elevator door and into the hallway that led to the main lobby. “You made it out of the circle before your last drop was spilled and your life force gone. He’s not sure how long, but the League seems to think the darkness shouldn’t spread too far or last forever.” He paused, and I heard a small sigh. “I won’t lie to you, Charlie, it’s been hell trying to calm the fear and panic once it reached the city. The ITF has managed to keep your name out of the media so far, but you should know … some people in the department blame you. Others think you’re a hero.”

Joy. “And you?”

“I think you’re out of your mind, as usual.”

I laughed even though my hands clenched and unclenched the armrests. “Thanks.” And then he turned the corner.

My heart hammered quick and hard against my rib cage.

I could see it through the main lobby’s wall of glass. My mouth went dry, too dry even to swallow. The front doors slid open, and we glided past a florist, through another set of glass doors, and then we were out.

Outside. In the dark. At 11A.M.

The blue sky and sunlight had been replaced by an undulating, churning mass of gray. It was not the complete darkness of night, more like the darkness of a total eclipse or a very nasty thunderstorm with the darkest damn thunderclouds you ever saw. Occasionally a bright flash, similar to heat lightning, would illuminate the darkness, but it was the only light from above. It moved and seethed like a living entity, an entity built on my blood. My gut twisted.

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted my horror. I glanced over my shoulder as the florist we’d passed approached. “The lady at the front pointed you out,” he said to both of us and then switched his gaze to me. “You’re Charlie Madigan, right?”

“Yeah?”

“These are for you.”

He stuck them out, but Hank snagged the flowers with an unamused glare that made the guy dip his head and then hurry to his van.

Once he was driving away, Hank handed me the flowers. They were lilies. Bloodred. I secured the vase between my thighs and picked out the note card, feeling a sudden pang of apprehension.

Charlie,

I like what you’ve done with the place.

My vision distorted. Hank’s voice drifted away as he asked me who the flowers were from, but I couldn’t answer because I couldn’t breathe.

Panic blasted through me like an arctic wind, then doubled back to blanket me. It was the panic of the trapped, of that precise moment when you realize that you can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t do anything physical at all. You can only think and feel the drumming of your heart and the intense surge of adrenaline as it races through your system.

Then, just as suddenly as the feeling came, it was gone.

The world blinked back into focus—sharp, gray, slithering focus that lay like a living shroud over the city. A dark city. Electric goose bumps snaked down my arms and thighs. A Charbydon paradise. Hell on Earth.

There’s more than one monster in this city.
The last words Otorius had spoken to me echoed through my mind.

I knew who had engineered me and made me call the darkness, and that monster was dead. But why the hell did I get the feeling this was only the beginning, like I’d just been played big time, like I’d fallen into something way bigger and far more complex than darkness and
ash
?

As I sat there in the wheelchair, hospital traffic going by, people walking in and out, the earthy scent of lilies invading the air, I knew one thing. Grigori Tennin might
like what I’ve done with the place,
but I had created the darkness. It was my blood that had called it, and it was my blood that would fix things. I was the lone wolf, the only one of my kind in existence, and I had the power inside me to change everything.

Grigori Tennin was about to learn a valuable lesson: there was one thing more dangerous than making a deal with the devil, and that thing was
me.

To my sister, Kameryn Long, who reads everything I write, good or bad, and who always asks for more, regardless. Thanks for always being there and for being my best friend. You rock.

To my parents, Cheryl and Allen Hogan, who have always believed in me and my dream of becoming a writer even as a teen (thanks for that word processor!), and whose unwavering support is one of the reasons I am still writing today.

To all my family, friends in real life, and those in the WWW (you all know who you are); I’m so grateful for your support. I wish I had room to list you all, but in this round, I’d like to mention: Chester Groves, the Pixie Chicks, the Wildcards, and HCRW. And my girlfriends who continue to be my friends even though I’m in hermit/writer mode 95 percent of the time: Jaime Foutty, Sheri Widmann, and Coleen Heathcock (and a shout-out to the hubs, Joe and Kevin).

And, finally, I am deeply and happily indebted to one Jonathan Gay who makes my writing day possible in more ways than one; to Audrey for being patient, helpful, and an all-around cool kid; and to Jamie—well, just because. Without you guys this book never would have been written.

A serial killer was in my bathroom. In my heavily warded house. This was
so
not good.

“I thought it quite spectacular. It’s all over the news.”

My nostrils flared as goose bumps erupted on my arms and legs. Slowly, I straightened. I was completely bare. No weapons. No way out. My grip on the razor tightened. His outline moved beyond the white shower curtain, pacing from one end of the floor to the other. “What do you want, Llyran?”

He ignored the question as though I hadn’t uttered a word. “I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here in your bathroom.”

“Um, yeah, and how the hell you got into my house,” I said evenly as my mind scrambled for a plan—any plan—but I didn’t have much to work with, unless stabbing him with the blunt edge of a Wonder Smooth Vibrating Razor was a plan.

“Oh, that part was easy, Charlie. I can mask myself … make myself a wisp of air. You can’t see me, smell me, sense me until it’s too late.” His outline stopped at the sink, his height, slumping somewhat, giving me the impression that he was leaning against the countertop. “You can do that, too, you know. All that and more. You have great power in you. Great … potential.”

“So you broke into my house just to tell me that?” I reached for the bar of soap with my other hand. If he came for me, it was going right into his eye. Might give me a chance to make it to the bedroom and the night-table drawer where I kept an extra set of weapons.

Small clinks and movement echoed above the shower spray. The faint scent of my perfume reached my nose, and I knew the creepy bastard was examining my toiletries, picking things up, setting them back down. “Nice,” he muttered. “You see, the thing is, Charlie, you and I are a lot alike. Unique. Determined. Powerful.”

“I’m not a murdering sonofabitch.”

“Necessary evils,” he said simply. Another glass bottle clinked onto the marble countertop. “I came to make you an offer, Detective.”

My fists tightened around my “weapons.” The soap shot from my grip and hit the shower wall with a loud bang. Great.

Okay, calm down.

He was here. The shock was over. My weapons were stupid, and I had to concentrate. I closed my eyes and began to focus, to seek out the Elysian part of me that I was just learning how to use.

“Come with me, Charlie, and I’ll stop playing badly with others.”

I blinked. “Stop killing? Just like that?”

The shower had turned lukewarm, but I shivered as though it were freezing, taking a small step back so the spray hit below my thighs, totally baffled that Llyran had invaded my home just to make me a deal. A freaking deal. I almost laughed. History proved I sucked at making deals.

I rubbed a hand down my face and tried to focus again.

“I want to open your eyes,” he said. “Show you the future.”

Focus, Charlie. Focus on the light. You know it’s there. It’s there in your blood, in every part of you, just waiting for you to say the word.

The small drops of water that bounced off my skin began to hover. I no longer felt chilled because the warm vibration of power began to hum through me, growing, becoming attuned to my thoughts and my wishes. My prey had come to me, and if I could keep him here long enough to gather my strength, I had a good shot at ending his playtime for good.

“Well?” he asked.

“You know what I think, Llyran? I think you’re a schizophrenic sicko with a massive ego problem. I’m surprised you even got into my house with a head as big as yours.”

I let my hands fall to my sides, still gripping the razor, and closed my eyes, completely immersed in the thrumming line of power that ran through me, like a live wire just waiting for a switch to be hit.

Visualize your thoughts. Give direction to your power.

And … now!

I hit the switch.

The bathroom door slammed shut as the spray of the shower amplified, directing outward and blowing out the shower curtain. It flew straight for Llyran’s shadowy form, covering him. He cursed, struggling to remove it and slipping on the wet floor as the water swirled around the room.

His surprise would only last a second. I stepped onto the ledge of the tub and then dove at his curtain-covered form. We both went down to the wet floor, sliding to the wall. Elbows, legs, and shower curtain flailed. I absorbed the pain of random jabs and punches, trying my damnedest to wrap him tighter in the curtain. He growled, shoving me off. I spun across the tile and slammed into the wall.

Shit.

Llyran tore the curtain away and sat up, furious. And there I was, on the floor, naked, both hands flat on the tile, sitting on my hip, facing him, my breath coming hard and fast. My eyes bored into his as I tried to gather my power again.

His red hair was in disarray, but the sight of him awed me just the same, despite the fact that I knew what he was, what he was capable of doing to another living being. He was a mass murderer masquerading in the gorgeous body of a Viking angel, his heart as black as iron.

He blinked, obviously shocked by the sight of me. But his aura practically glowed; he could unleash his own gifts anytime he wanted.

“You are remarkable, Charlie.”

I sat back, and angled slightly, so he only had a side view as his gaze flicked to my breasts. Asshole.

“Why are you killing?”

“Because it is necessary to my cause.”

I cocked my head. “And that would be?” My hip was starting to hurt. I’d have to move soon.

He pushed to his feet, his black tunic and jeans soaked, shaking the water from his red hair. His blue eyes were so light they appeared almost white. He smiled again as I copied his movement, pushing to my feet—hell if I was going to sit on the floor while he stood over me.

Being bare like this and having to endure his blatant ogling brought the dark power of Charbydon coursing through my veins. So easy and swift to rise, this dark energy of mine.

A ruddy eyebrow cocked and he grinned. “I have to admit I didn’t think I’d be seeing this much of you … so soon anyway.”

“What is it with you Adonai? Not every female is going to fall down at your feet.”

A perverse smile tugged his generous mouth. “They all bend in the end, Charlie. And we hardly have to lift a finger. That’s why, when someone like you comes along, it makes the chase thrilling.”

A disgusted shiver shot up my spine, but I kept from flinching. “Is that what this is, a chase? Let me tell you something, you fucking scumbag, not a
single
thing about you appeals to me on any level. I hunt and destroy degenerates like you on a regular basis, and I
love
my job.”

A deep, disappointed sigh whispered through his lips. “I know.”

Let’s see how he liked a little Charbydon justice.

I drew the power from every part of my body, sucking it into a tight ball in the center of my chest and then sending the dark energy surging down my arms. I clapped my hands together, forcing the power into a single bolt aimed straight toward Llyran’s chest. Rex taught me that one.

The Adonai tensed, his eyes narrowing. Just before it hit him, his big hand whipped out and snagged the bolt. He flicked his wrist, slinging the energy backward like a whip. The bolt wrapped around me, and then Llyran yanked.

I screamed, slamming into him, the breath knocked from my lungs, blinking in shock at how he’d grabbed my power.
Grabbed
it. I still had so much to learn. He tried to seize my wrists, but I slapped and kicked, able to evade a firm hold because of my slippery skin.

For whatever reason, he wasn’t using his powers and I wasn’t complaining.

His curses filled the air as he lost his balance and landed on his ass, his back against the tub. Finally he got hold of both my wrists, my stomach pressed flat against his chest and kept there by the fact that he held my wrists wide, arms straight out on either side of me. My nose was inches from his face and I was panting hard.

“You’ll change your mind, princess. In the end, we’ll see exactly what you’re made of.” His eyes took on a fanatical glow. “In the meantime, I’m going to cut a path across your dark city until the streets bleed red. My next one will be just for you.”

“No,” I said, “there won’t be a next one, you bastard.”

I reared back, gritted my teeth, and slammed my forehead into his face.

Pain shot through my skull as Llyran let go of my wrists, cursing. I slumped against him and then rolled off, sliding back on my bare bottom as Llyran covered his nose with one hand. Then he closed his eyes and began chanting.

Every wet hair on my body rose. The bathroom window smashed in … I covered my head as glass rained down … and then my attention was snagged by the wind. The lamppost outside the window illuminated the darkness whirling overhead.

A small tendril of darkness snaked downward, enchanted by Llyran’s summoning.

My eyes widened in total disbelief at the realization of what I was seeing, what it meant. Llyran could manipulate the darkness. Fuck.