The Better Part of Darkness (19 page)

As I rounded the corner, the guards were down on their knees in front of the gate, their semis pointed straight at my windshield. Adrenaline surging, I hit the brakes, sliding to a screeching stop.

Nothing sounded but the purring engine and my thundering pulse.

The gatehouse was flanked by stone walls and then woods. There was no way around. And this wasn’t an ITF vehicle with bulletproof glass. My hands flexed on the leather steering wheel. Glancing in the rearview mirror showed the SUVs flanking out behind me. I swallowed. Terrific.

Talk about bad timing.

Inhale. Exhale. I pulled the keys out of the ignition and then ducked slowly out of the car, my hands held high, as the limo stopped behind the Mustang.

The driver emerged and opened the back door. Mynogan stepped out, tugged his suit jacket down, and adjusted his cuffs. He looked impeccable, his olive skin glowing against the crisp white of his shirt, nearly as white as his hair. “You have excellent timing, Charlene.”

I smirked, my ire bringing out the smart-ass in me. “I could say the same for you,
Mynie
.”

Carreg was next to duck out of the limo, straightening to his full height and looking just as sharp as Mynogan. Although, with this Charbydon noble I didn’t get the nauseous willies. I couldn’t deny he looked damn good in his suit; the jacket open, no tie, and the collar of his light blue dress shirt open. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets, drawing back the flaps to his jacket. He was posing for a magazine spread and didn’t even know it.

“Shall we take this back to the lab?” Mynogan snapped his fingers at the jinn nearest to him and then ducked back into the limo. Pompous ass.

I handed my weapons over and got into the back of one of the SUVs, trying like hell to remain calm and not lose control like I had in Underground.

Back at the facility, Andy met us as we proceeded from the parking lot to the glass doors. The uneasy, apologetic expression scrunching his face told me all I needed to know. I’d expected to be hunted down by the jinn and Mynogan, not betrayed by some kid I hardly knew. For some reason that made me more pissed off than being relieved of my weapons.

As we filed into the lobby, Andy made the mistake of getting too close. I grabbed his lab coat and shoved him against the wall.

“I’m sorry!”

Sweat beaded his brow and I could smell his fear. Impossible, but I even heard his heart hammering. “Not as sorry as you’re gonna be, you little weasel.”

A jinn hand landed hard on my shoulder. I released Andy with a shove.

“Oh, God,” he choked, dashing by me to unlock the elevator. He dropped the key card twice before sliding it properly into the reader.

Play it cool,
I told myself, banking the anger and hum of power that came with it. There
was
something inside me. Too bad for them, because I was going to let it out after I got the answers I sought. They could take away my weapons, but they couldn’t take this. Guess power did have its advantages after all.

After a tight, uncomfortable squeeze into the elevator, sandwiched between two jinn, Mynogan and Carreg behind me, the doors slid open. Thank God. I was about to suffocate from the corrupt auras of malevolence and misplaced ego.

I was forced to step aside and allow Mynogan and Carreg to lead the party down the hallway, which gave me a chance to shoot daggers at Mynogan’s stiff back. The only thing that made me feel any better about the situation was knowing Hank would be here soon. He’d find a way around the guards. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

Andy opened the door to Mott’s lab, pulling it back and mouthing the word
sorry
as I stepped by him. I shot daggers at him, too. Like he’d get any forgiveness from me.

The door shut behind us, and I suppressed a shiver of anxiety.

Squaring my shoulders and settling into work mode, I focused on my years of training. I followed the jinn farther into the room, surveying every crevice and corner, ready for anything. My heart pumped and my palms itched. If it wasn’t for needing information, I would’ve started the fight just to get it over with.

In the corner setup with Mott’s couch, chairs, and coffee table, Titus stood to greet Carreg and Mynogan. The doc was scared shitless. His hands trembled, and he reeked of fear, far worse than Andy. His hair was in more disarray than ever and sweat dampened his hairline. I glanced over to the medical lab and saw that Llyran, the Adonai serial killer, was no longer on the hospital bed.

Two jinn left me to go take up wall space behind Mynogan. The other two remained behind me.

I shook my head at Mott. “Why am I not surprised?”

A sincere apology passed through his eyes. To hide his shaking, he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his lab coat. I cocked my head slightly and tuned in to his aura. It was green and slightly dim. Nothing bad there. Interesting. “So what do these two idiots have on you, huh, Mott?”

The jinn behind me sucked in a breath at my name-calling. I didn’t have time to brace against the punch to my kidney, which sent me staggering forward and howling in pain. His fingers slid around my neck, and he jerked me back, squeezing hard. “Apologize to the Lords of Charbydon,” he hissed in my ear. His breath smelled like rancid meat, nearly taking me to the floor.

In one smooth motion, I yanked my arm away, braced my fist into the palm of my other hand for added force, and then sent my elbow flying back into his nose. “Fuck you.” The sickening crack of bone filled me with satisfaction. They fell for that move every time.

Foul, thick fury erupted fast behind me. I spun and braced for his attack, but the jinn froze, his irises burning violet-red hatred. A quick glance over my shoulder showed Mynogan with his hand up. I cocked a triumphant eyebrow at the jinn despite the danger and the retribution he promised me as he backed away.

“Detective,” Mynogan began in a smooth voice so evil it crawled up my skin like a handful of scattering roaches. “I suggest you cooperate with us. Certain loved ones’ lives may be at risk.”

Time stopped as my heart dropped to the floor.

A blink later, white flame erupted inside of me, searing every nerve and cell, every pore and fingertip, clouding my vision and vibrating through my eardrums.

Then, my world came abruptly back into focus. How dare he threaten them! The heat burned. I was on fire, like in my nightmare. Didn’t matter. I had control of this power, whatever it was. And damned if he’d harm my loved ones. Instinctively I gathered it, amassing it until I was about to burst with it, then I sent it out like a whip straight for Mynogan.

A gale force wave lit by blue flame arced across the room, leaving a bitter cold void in its place. I shuddered as the power surged into him.

The only assault on his person was the wind moving his white hair. My mouth dropped open. He had absorbed my blow. His pupils glowed red and his aura grew in blackness.

Figures.

I braced, no time for anything else, as he returned the favor without blinking an eye or moving a muscle in his fancy suit. The power hit me so hard it sent me flying through the plate-glass viewing mirror and into the hard, tiled floor. I slid across tile and broken glass, slamming into the far wall.

Wracking pain flared through my skull and back. Gasping for breath and fighting a blackout, I tried to push myself up, to ready myself for the next attack. The iron-rich scent of my own blood mixed with the sudden aroma of Bryn’s flowery herbal conditioner as my hair fell loose around my face and shoulders. I’d hit the wall so hard, the rubber band in my hair had snapped. I was cut everywhere. My hands, arms, even through the jeans. Warm trails of liquid red ran down my face and neck. It hurt so badly, I couldn’t move.

You should’ve absorbed your own power back instead of letting it hit you,
a voice echoed in my mind.

I shook my head and blinked hard a few times, unsure of whether I was imagining things or that voice was somehow real. The only thing I was certain of was that I had to get up. Now. Holding my breath, I pushed my weight off the floor using the wall at my back. Glass cut into my palms. I let out a groan and slid back down the wall. The room spun around me. My stomach clenched.
Don’t throw up. Please, don’t throw up.

Footsteps raced around the corner, shoes crunching on glass. Mott slid down beside me. “Charlie, Charlie, can you hear me?” He patted my face as I tried to focus on him. His touch hurt.

“Get away from me,” I managed to slur.

“I’m not a traitor,” he whispered quickly. “I didn’t know this was what he wanted. I was only trying—”

“To what? Get people, our people, hooked on
ash
?”

Mott frowned as one of the jinn pulled him to his feet. “What?”

“Amanda,” I forced out, panting through the pain, “giving drugs to children. No wonder you’re in with these guys. You fit right in.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He struggled against the jinn holding him.

“Go ask your brother. He’s been using Mott Tech to manufacture
ash
. That’s why your niece is in the hospital right now. She took drugs made from your lab.” It was conjecture, but I didn’t care.

Titus’s face paled, and his eyes held the realization that I was probably telling the truth. That his brother was a drug-addicted loser who had crossed the line into being an enabler to the entire city. His Adam’s apple slid up and down slowly. And the only thing he could do was nod.

Through the opening where the glass had once been, I could see Carreg arguing furiously with Mynogan. He wasn’t happy. Neither of them. Power stirred in the room, and I knew then that my power was nothing compared to these two ancient beings.

I let my head slump against the wall. Carreg turned to me for a brief second, his inky blue eyes seeming to burn brighter.
Stupid human, heal yourself!

What the hell? I swallowed the dry lump in my throat. His voice was imperious and impatient in my head. Just as quickly as he glanced at me, he was back arguing with Mynogan. Either I’d hit my head too hard or he was communicating with me telepathically.

Why would he help me?
Who cares! Just do it!
This time, the voice was my own. I closed my eyes and searched inside for power. There was none. I was empty and cold.

Try again,
Carreg commanded.
Find goodness, not anger.

Again, I squeezed my eyelids shut and concentrated, eventually grabbing on to the image of my family, of the good things in my life. Of Emma. Sweet Emma. Her face swam in my mind. Her goofy laugh. Her tough façade. Her hugs and kisses. The overwhelming love I had for her. It stirred in me like a real entity, just like the power I had drawn upon in my anger. But this didn’t hurt, didn’t blind me. This was comforting and cool.

Granted, I didn’t know what to do with it, but what the hell. I was out of options. I drew in a deep breath and then imagined sending the power to every part of my body, urging it, asking it to heal, to energize, to work on my bones and cuts and bruises. Almost immediately, a peaceful glow lit me on the inside as wonderful energy sang through me. It swelled my chest. I gasped and opened my eyes, tingling everywhere. I flexed my bloody fingers, the deep cuts and scratches not stinging and burning as badly as before.

Slowly, I shoved the loose hair from my vision and pushed to my feet, still feeling a hum at work, feeling like I was floating. Amazing. I glanced at my feet to make sure they were still on the ground. They were. I shifted my gaze to my hands and arms. The cuts were healing, though I still felt like roadkill. I caught Mott’s astonished gape and asked, “What did you do to me?”

His shoulders slumped suddenly and regret covered his face. “I saved your life.”

“Oh, surely, some part of you remembers that night. Dying. Your soul leaving. The good doctor, here, coming in. Me, stroking your hair, comforting you.” No. “The needle in your vein. Any of it, perhaps, ring a bell, Detective?”

He was trying to psych me out and enjoying every malicious minute of it. I shook my head violently, my gaze desperately searching for the truth and landing on Mott, who studied the floor in front of him. “What was in it?” I cringed at the desperation in my voice. “What was in the needle?”

No one spoke.

“WHAT WAS IN THE FUCKING NEEDLE?!” My scream bounced off the walls.

“Go ahead, tell her, Titus,” Mynogan prompted, humor lighting the black of his eyes like fire on obsidian.

“I was
trying
to help,” he shot back at Mynogan and then faced me. “Trying to find a way to help humans, the police department, be able to defend themselves, to have a fighting chance. Mynogan was our benefactor, said he wanted to remain anonymous, and that was the only reason I lied to you, Charlie. The chief knew. And we agreed only to try it on someone who wouldn’t live otherwise.”

The shock of what he was saying hit me full force. I hadn’t expected
this.
Bewildered, I shook my head, trying to shake the fuzz of astonishment away. My body was almost healed. Already I was learning about my power and how to use it. I could be calm about this. I
had
to be calm if I was to live through this. “So you injected me with something.”

“Gene therapy,” Mott said.

“More precisely, DNA from both worlds,” Mynogan cut in. “Charbydon and Elysia. My DNA. And a sample stolen from an Adonai priestess.”

A laugh blurted from my lips, sounding demented and lost. This kept getter better and better. I was probably unconscious from the hit against the wall. All this was just a dream, a really twisted fucking dream. I wanted to sit down.

Mott hurried to explain. “You were dying, Charlie. I had the knowledge to save you. Well, I didn’t know if their DNA would bond with yours, but it did. It failed on the others we tried.”

“It worked with you because you have the old blood—diluted, but it’s there,” Carreg explained. “All humans of limited power have it. It’s where their power comes from. Sometime, long ago in your lineage, a Charbydon mated with one of your human ancestors. As did an Elysian. It had to have happened thousands of years ago and spaced widely apart for your family to survive and evolve normally with the infusion of both races’ genes. By now the blood is so weak that many in your family tree have no powers at all.”

“Then why didn’t you just give the injection to any human with power?”

“We tried. Seems it only works with a very select few. And usually they die within a few months. We still don’t know why,” Mott answered, ashamed.

As their words sunk in, my skin crawled. Mynogan’s DNA was in my body. Bile rose to my throat and the urge to retch spasmed through my gut. I nearly did and had to hold my stomach to stop it. Spilled alcohol from broken bottles on the floor stung the insides of my nose and throat.

I had the power of good and evil in me. Now it all made sense. The nightmare. The war inside of me. Mott had saved me, but inside they’d nearly torn me apart. I knew suddenly, with sickening realization, it was that internal war that had killed the others. They’d been ripped apart. From the inside out.

You’re now one of the most powerful humans in the world, Detective. More powerful than most Elysians and Charbydons.

I stared hard at Carreg, but saw nothing in his aura but a swirling midnight blue and his usual marble expression. Why was he helping me?

“You have a choice,” Mynogan offered, drawing my attention. “Use what we gave you to help or die along with your family.” He said it so simply and matter-of-factly.

“What do you want me to do?”

“We created you so you could create a world for us to live in. Here, on Earth. You simply need to come when we call on you.”

“Go to hell.”

Mynogan shook his head and laughed, perfect white teeth flashing, as though I was an unruly child. But this was no father gazing lovingly on his child; this was a being whose very air held the assurance of brutality and follow-through. There were no lines this male would not cross. No guilt or hesitation in bringing death.

“Laugh at this, you bastard!” Hank’s voice sounded behind Mynogan right before he blasted the Abaddon lord with nitro.

The astonishment that crossed Mynogan’s impeccable features was so worth any payback. The jinn surged over glass and furniture to get to Hank. “Charlie!” A Nitro-gun sailed through the air. I leapt up to catch it and immediately began firing at the jinn.

“Get down!” I yelled to Titus, firing as he dove under a table. The jinn knocked over a metal lab cabinet, shielding Mynogan and Carreg, firing bullets over the top as Hank took position across from me behind the corner wall. There was too much debris and distance to get to him, so I ducked behind a wide medical refrigerator.

“It’s about time you got here!” I shouted above the gunfire.

“You might want to run, Charlie,” he yelled back. “Unless you want to hear my voice!”

He was taking off the voice modifier. Relief flowed over me. About time.

A loud boom and a crack of white blinded me. I screamed and fell to my rear, seeing black spots float behind my eyelids. My eardrums rang.

It felt like minutes had passed.

Using the side of the fridge, I pulled myself to my knees, blinking away the spots and trying to focus.

The lab warbled into view. The entire corner where Hank had taken cover was gone. A sinking panic gripped my throat.
Oh, God.
“Hank!”

I started across the room, but was pulled down by Carreg, who had somehow made it across the floor. He was on his stomach, one hand wrapped around my ankle. “Stay down,” he hissed, his face cast in shadows and light from the swinging bulb overhead. My struggles only produced an impatient frown. “I’ll take care of your partner. You need to get out of here.”

“What?” Bullets dinged the refrigerator once more, sending metal sparks shooting through the smoke-filled air like fireworks. I fired back and then ducked down again. “I’m not leaving him!”

Carreg yanked me close, his nose nearly touching mine. Strong fingers dug into my arms. Stark intensity flashed like lightning in his glower and made me pause. “I said I’d watch out for him. This is nothing compared to the fight you’re going to face. You stay and there’ll be no one to hide your family. And get some goddamn training. You’re gonna need it.” He shoved me hard toward the door.

I fell on my hip. My hair spilled over my face as I turned back to Carreg.

How could I leave my partner? It went against everything I believed, everything I was. Carreg rolled his eyes to the ceiling, his mouth set in a strained pose of displeasure. “Give me your hand.” He waited, challenging. If I didn’t do something soon, the jinn were going to be on top of us. Rising up, I fired a few more rounds to keep them at bay and then I slapped my palm into Carreg’s, returning his displeased expression.

“You can trust me,” I heard him say as images flooded my mind. His grip held me still and tight, squeezing the hand bones and tendons together. It was like fast-forwarding a movie. Images of him and Mynogan. Meetings and conversations. Thoughts and emotions. So quickly they flashed, I had a difficult time putting them into my short-term memory.

The one thing I did realize—he wasn’t involved with
ash
or my DNA manipulation. He’d been just as shocked as I had, but he’d hidden it well. Carreg had been working with Mott to find a way to revive the Charbydon moon, not create a permanent home here on Earth. His political agenda was simply to live and work alongside the rest of us. And it was sincere. He’d been as betrayed by Mynogan as Mott had. He was telling me the truth. He’d protect Hank. He also sent me images of exactly what Mynogan was capable of doing if I didn’t get my ass out of there and back to Emma, Bryn, and Will.

He released my hand, and it burned. “Go.”

After one hesitant look, when it briefly occurred to me that Carreg could be feeding me false images, I bolted for the door, my family in the forefront of my mind. I would have beaten Hank senseless if our roles were reversed and he hadn’t gone to save them.

I had to fight my way to the elevator, blasting two more jinn who guarded the hallway, and clocking Andy in the jaw as he stood, terrified, by the elevator. Payback for leading me into this mess. The kid dropped like a rock.

It was dark by the time I got out of Mott Tech. Once I was topside, nothing stood in my way. Apparently Mynogan and his goons thought so well of themselves, they didn’t have a backup plan in case I escaped. Dumbasses. The only one in my way was the limo driver, and he watched me dart by his windshield without so much as a blink. And lucky for me, someone had driven the Mustang back to the parking lot.

My emotions ruled as I drove like a madwoman toward the gatehouse. The guards were just about to run from the structure with guns drawn, but I was too close and going way too fast. They ducked back in as the car blurred by them, splintering the barrier. I hit the brakes, turned the wheel, and swerved onto the side road that led to the Interstate.

I took the exit onto I-85 and headed back to Underground. Mynogan’s threat to my family burned in my mind and my heart. If anything happened to them he’d suffer in the worst way possible. And Hank. How could I have left him? I slammed my palms against the steering wheel and let out a frustrated groan. What if Carreg failed to help him? What if Mynogan figured out Carreg was working against him? If Hank got hurt … But there was no one,
no one,
more important than my kid, and getting back to her was first priority.

I dialed Bryn’s and Will’s cell phones. No answer.

It was the longest thirty-minute ride of my life.

Underground was bustling with activity. The bars, eateries, and pubs had thrown open their doors. Techno music wafted toward me as I bolted down the street to Bryn’s door. Dried blood clung to crevices between my fingers and to my neck and collarbone. The black V-neck was slashed diagonally across the abdomen, and healed bloody cuts and scratches peeked from rips in the jeans. The sound of my pulse, driven by panic and dread, drowned out most of the sound. I nodded to the undercover cop nearby and then pressed Bryn’s buzzer. When she answered, I said between pants, “It’s me, let me in.”

I took the stairs two at a time. At the landing, I drew my gun and held it down behind my thigh as the door opened to reveal my sister looking none the worse for wear in jeans and an oversize Braves T-shirt.

Relief burst inside me, and I threw my arms around her, hugging her astonished form. “Thank God. Why the hell didn’t you answer your phone?” I marched into the apartment for Emma, not waiting for an answer.

She wasn’t in the living room or kitchen. Trying not to panic, I threw the bedroom door open. Empty. I returned to the living room.

“Where’s Em?”

“At Will’s. I just talked to him. They’re going to get online and figure out where to stay at Disney. They’re planning to leave tonight.” Her face had turned pale. “What the hell happened, Charlie? Put the gun down.”

I lowered the gun. “It’s Mynogan.”

“The noble?”

“Yeah. He’s …” How did I explain? “I think he’s behind the
ash,
and for making me the Jinn’s Most Wanted.” I didn’t even want to mention the gene manipulation.

Spurred by adrenaline, I holstered my gun, hurried to Bryn’s bedroom, and rooted around her jewelry box for another hair band. She watched me from the door as I tied my hair back and then jerked the shirt over my head. Her gasp informed me that the slash across the shirt had cut my torso as well. But it was healing slowly. I didn’t care.

A cat hissed from under her bed. I glanced over to see Gizmo down on his front legs, his butt and forked tail in the air, antagonizing poor Spooky. A faded rose-colored cotton T hit me in the face. As it slid down into my hands, I saw Bryn closing her dresser drawer. “Sorry, I know you hate pink, but it’s the only clean one I have left.”

It really didn’t matter. Quickly, I pulled on the tee, leaving the jeans.

“You want a towel,” she asked quietly, motioning to the blood, “to clean up?”

She was scared. And I would have like nothing better than to reassure her, but there wasn’t time. “Yeah, thanks.” I swept by her and into the living room, where I pulled out the extra ammo I kept stashed in the back of Bryn’s coat closet. After reloading and tucking some extra clips in the waistband of the jeans and inside each boot, I straightened to take a wet towel from Bryn.

I nodded my thanks, holding it in one hand while dialing Will’s cell phone number. Voice mail. Again.

“Damn it!” I threw the phone onto the couch and stomped into the bathroom.

I stared at my reflection, wondering how my life could have done a one-eighty so quickly.
Always looking for trouble,
Connor would say.
Why isn’t a normal life good enough for you?
both Mom and Dad had repeatedly asked after I’d joined the ITF.
Why risk your life?