the Darkest Edge Of Dawn (2010) (15 page)

"In any event," Aaron said, "the coincidences in our religious doctrines and myths are quite compelling. The stories of the Old Lore, for instance."

"How so?"

"One of the myths speaks of the first beings, First Ones, made by the Creator. The myth claims that inside of them was the genetic foundation of all three noble races."

"Wait a minute. Three? I thought there are only two."

"Besides Charbydon nobles and Elysian Adonai, the Old Lore claims that
humans
are the third noble race." He leaned forward. "So one Creator gave rise to the First Ones, and eventually, from them, the three races sprang, evolved--there is nothing in what remains of the traditions to tell us how this happened or even what happened to the First Ones."

Thank God this was all fiction. Try telling a noble or an Adonai that they shared a common ancestor, and you'd better have stellar health insurance.

I wasn't a big history buff, but I did find Aaron's words fascinating ... until I realized where he was going with all this. My chin dropped a notch and I fixed him with a bland stare. "Please don't tell me--"

"What exists inside of you, Charlie, might very well be the same genetic code that existed in the First Ones: the genes of all three races."

I dropped my head into my hands and let out a deep exhale, then sat back, stunned and a little harried. "You're saying I'm becoming a First One, a myth? You might as well tell me I'm an orphan from Atlantis."

He laughed. "Remind me to tell you about Atlantis someday. Look, all myths are grounded in truth. It's true I have no way of knowing if the First Ones were real or not, but if they were, if the myths are true like some people believe ..." A shrug was all he gave to finish out that thought. "There's no way to tell what you'll eventually become, no way to know exactly how your body will process the new off-world genes you have. Your entire code is transmogrifying, morphing. It won't happen overnight. You might eventually become a divine being like the First Ones, or something completely unique, something that all three worlds have never seen before."

My mind came to a full and total stop. Just stopped, every thought, every sense replaced by lovely, welcoming white noise.

A singsong echo started. Distant. Two syllables.

"Charrr-leee. Charrr-leeeeee."

Several bright flashes caused my eyelids to close tighter.

"Charlie!"
Sharp, loud, to the point. I reared back, blinking rapidly, my brain scrambling to make sense of what was in front of me.

Two blurry faces. Up close. Peering at me.

"See there, she's blinking."

Flash.

What the hell?

"There. She's coming out of it. Charlie!" The sound of snapping filled the air.

"Liz?" The two faces zoomed out and came into focus. Aaron and Liz. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Yeah. See. Told you," Liz said in her no-nonsense tone, bumping Aaron's shoulder and flicking her small flashlight on and off. "Good as new. Yell if you need me." She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and marched back to her work station.

"Just a moment of shock, Charlie, nothing to worry about," Aaron said. "I imagine it's not every day one hears they might be evolving
back
into a divine being."

There it was again, that white noise.

"Head between your knees," he ordered gently, hand on my shoulder as my head went down and my hands covered my face.

Finally, my body started responding--heart thumping as though it had just restarted, chugging along, picking up speed. Chills spread throughout my insides and manifested as a cold sweat on my skin. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I muttered through my hands, not moving, too afraid I'd pass out.

"Like I said, it's just a theory ..."

"Your theories blow," I said weakly.

Shit, shit, shit.

"Maybe you should go home, get some rest. You want me to drive you?"

"No, I'm fine. I need to get to the office. I'll be okay. Just give me a minute."
Or a million.
I couldn't believe what Aaron had said. I didn't want to be a "completely different person."

"Is there a way to test this theory?" I asked, finally lifting my head. "No
Divine Beings for Dummies
at the library?"

"Very funny. I don't think so. There is no way to test it except to keep evolving like you are." His black eyebrows drew together in deep consideration. "An old Elysian proverb claims that the more at peace you are, the closer to the divine you become. Perhaps try relaxing, putting yourself into a deep state of peace and calm, and then see if you can duplicate these random occurrences you've been having. I'll research more on the First Ones myths. Perhaps then we'll see a similarity or a pattern."

"Okay." I stood. "Thanks, Aaron."

"You sure you don't want to rest for a while? I can take you home."

I've got a Druid King threatening to start a war with the jinn. And a psycho Adonai claiming to be the killer of Daya and the others, one whose next victim will be just for me,
I wanted to say, but instead I said, "No, I'm fine." I gave him a tight smile, seeing no need to fake it, and turned toward the exit, letting my feet carry me on wooden legs down the warehouse and out across the parking lot to my vehicle.

The drive to the station cleared my mind enough for me to realize that no matter what Aaron said, there was nothing I could do about it. I had to go on, do my job, take care of my kid, and take things day by day. And despite feeling like I wanted to check myself into the nearest mental hospital, that's what I did. Because when it came right down to it, I really didn't have a choice. People counted on me; I had to keep going. And when my mind kept going back to his words and thoughts of divine, mythological beings, I refocused; I pushed those thoughts aside, pulled into the back lot of Station One, parked my Tahoe, and hurried inside, heading toward the elevator.

I used the small rectangular card attached to my keychain and held the bar code up to the scanner near the elevator door. The scanner beeped and the elevator door slid open just as footsteps echoed down the main hall.

"Well, if it isn't the tri-world reject."

Seriously? My eyelids fluttered closed for a second. I wanted to laugh, toss my head back, and ask the universe if she had nothing better to do than to fuck up my morning. I mean, so far it had been a doozy, so why not add another bit of crap to the mix, right?

Slowly I spun around on my heel, not bothering to hide my distaste or the fact that I was screwing up my nose as though a foul smell had just wafted by. I should just go upstairs and ignore it, but ducking out of a confrontation wasn't exactly my style.

"Hey,
Ass
ton."

Ashton Perry, ITF detective and former coworker, fisted both hands at his sides as his narrow cheeks sprouted red, mottled patches and the superior sneer on his angular face grew by leaps and bounds.

It wasn't a big secret that Mynogan had brought darkness to the city or that Hank and I had been part of the attempt to stop him. The public knew what the ITF told them. But there were some in the ITF who were aware that I'd played a bigger role. That I chose to save my kid, instead of saving the city from darkness. Some understood. Some didn't. But it wasn't really my role that pissed off some of my former coworkers as much as the fact that Hank and I used ITF resources, worked on cases the ITF wasn't privy to, and only answered to the chief and to Washington. And Ashton couldn't seem to get over it. His eyes narrowed to small slits. "I
will
be heading the warehouse murders," he practically snarled. "And you can tell the
chief
that."

I took a moment to indulge in a heavy sigh and followed it with, "I'm really not up for a pissing match today, okay? And we all know mine is bigger than yours, anyway, so why don't you go play Big Man with the noobs."

A nasty sneer drew back the corner of his lip and his head cocked triumphantly. "How's your daught--"

Before I could even think how wrong it was, I had him by the throat and up against the opposite wall, my speed surprising even me. His skin was so pliable under my fingers. I dug them in further, wanting to hurt him, to make him cry.

Ashton's right hand grabbed the hilt of his service weapon just as any cop would do in this situation. And if it was anyone else, I'd trust them
not
to pull it, but Ashton was a hothead and had gotten increasingly hostile toward me. If he pulled his weapon, it'd be all over. For both of us. At least I had my wits enough to latch hard onto his hand with my other to prevent him from pulling the weapon and doing something stupid.

"Charlie." Hank's deep, mellow voice came from behind me, the same moment I felt the pressure of his hand on my shoulder.

My teeth ground together, one part of me knowing I had to remain calm and back off, the other part of me wanting to--"You mention my daughter again," I ground out, "and I'll rip your fucking tongue out and feed it to my hellhound."

Perry's long face was beet-red now, the pressure building as I continued to hold his neck tight, cutting off his circulation. Veins strained, full and angry, along his temples. Satisfied, I eased my hold.

Immediately he shot back, gasping, "I hope you sleep well at night, knowing you've annihilated the fucking planet."

"It's just the city, you moron." I stepped back as he rearranged his shirt, clearly pissed that I'd touched him with my
tri-racial
hands. "And, for the record, I sleep just fine."

"When they start taking over," Perry continued, "don't look for friends here. You damned us all for one stupid kid."

I lunged for him, but Hank was faster, wrapping both arms around my middle, jerking me back and causing my feet to come clean off the floor. "Let it go," Hank breathed into my ear as Ashton Perry had the nerve to laugh, despite his flustered expression, roll his eyes, and then walk out the back exit.

His disregard was a big ole fuck you, and it expanded my anger, pressing against my chest like a balloon about to burst. I swallowed the burn in my throat. "I'm going to kill him."

"And you should know by now that he uses Emma because it's the
one
thing that riles you. No one who counts believes you made the wrong decision."

I knew that, but Perry's words ... Maybe he was right in a way. Maybe I had damned the whole city, and was just kidding myself that there was a way to fix it. To those like Ashton, the only thing that mattered was that I'd stood in that stupid circle, spilled my engineered blood, and called the darkness to save my kid. I shut my eyes, my body still humming, still experiencing that numb tingling associated with chaotic power. It burned. And it fucking hurt.

"Relax," came Hank's voice, so low, confident, and soothing, like a shot of whiskey spreading through my system. "Breathe, kiddo. You control it, not the other way around."

Even with the voice-mod stuck in his neck, he still had a natural lure. No amount of engineering could snuff it out completely. My muscles obeyed, more willing to listen to him than to the anger that was already beginning to whittle away. I sighed. Then a thought occurred to me.

"You ditched me the other day." I jerked out of his hold and spun to face him, still humming with power, just not as volatile as before.

"So?" He scanned his card to re-open the elevator door. "I needed to cool off," he said, without a shred of remorse. "So did you. I did us both a favor."

"Oh, please." I followed him into the elevator. "Spare me your good intentions. Ditch me like that again and you'll be hurting for weeks."

Hank's smug snort didn't help the situation. He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a dark blond eyebrow. "You can try."

The elevator stopped at the fifth floor. "Thank God," I said, stepping off. "The ego in here could suffocate an elephant."

Our boss, and former chief of Station One, barreled out of the office we shared and marched down the hall like a formidable old bull in a black leather jacket. "Good, you're here. I'm headed downstairs to--" He stopped midstride, dark eyes squinting and wide nostrils flaring as though he smelled trouble. "What did you two do this time?" Immediately his beefy hand went up. "No. Never mind. I don't want to know. Downstairs," he continued, striding past us and lifting up the file in his hand, "to meet with the brass. Washington pulled rank on the ITF, so we're officially heading the investigation, and that crime scene is mine."

No wonder Ashton was in fine form this morning.

The chief stopped at the elevator. "The guys downstairs have already briefed everyone--this stays under wraps as long as possible. Let's just pray this doesn't cause pigeons to start shitting rainbows over Atlanta. And Sian called in sick today, so I want you both doing the legwork, tracking down that love nest, the warehouse owner, and checking the database for matching MOs on the crime scene." He stepped into the elevator. "Get to work!"

I slid my access key into the scanner. "Pigeons shitting rainbows? Where does he come up with that stuff?"

"Hell if I know. I stopped trying to figure out you humans and your sayings a long time ago."

"Well, trust me, that's no saying I ever heard."

Our office on the fifth floor was, quite frankly, a huge mess. We'd taken up residence in a large suite used as a dumping ground for old or unneeded office furniture and equipment, using the discarded cubicle dividers and desks to carve out a serpentine path that led to a spacious corner near the windows and close to the small kitchenette.

The steaming coffee mug on Hank's desk made the things I should've noticed earlier finally click: the unshaven jaw, the tousled hair, the same clothes he'd worn yesterday. "How long have you been here?"

He plopped in his chair and took a swig from the mug. "Long enough."

"You slept here last night?" I went to the small kitchenette to pour my own mug of coffee, adding half-and-half from the fridge and grabbing a glazed doughnut from the open box on the counter. "What's wrong with your place?" I happened to know Hank kept a very sweet, very expensive loft on Helios Alley.