“Come on, you guys!” Emma called from the landing.
“We’ll finish this inside,” I told Bryn. “I want to know more about this legend.”
As we climbed the stairs, I looked up at my waiting family and was immediately struck by flashes of old memories, the times when we’d all come over to Bryn’s for dinner. And sometimes she’d come to our house, so Will could cook on the grill. I loved helping him, loved being outside, eating good food, drinking an ice-cold beer, playing in the yard with Em … just being happy.
An ache spread across my chest as I trailed Bryn up the stairs.
At the landing, Will turned to Emma. “Go inside with Aunt Bryn. I want to talk to Mom for a minute.”
“Okay,” she responded with a careless shrug, toting Spooky, and followed Bryn inside.
With Will and me on the landing, the small space quickly became claustrophobic. All six foot three rugged inches of him sucked the air out of the space around us. His scent wrapped around me—this morning’s cologne mixed with the smell of his skin.
He scrubbed a calloused hand over his stubbly jaw, sighing heavily. Wary, I leaned against the wall. He caught my gaze and held it with his. My stomach flipped. So much history with him. All the goofy names we’d said, the plans for our future, the way we so innocently believed nothing would ever come between a love so strong.
Yeah, right.
“So, you’re a wanted woman,” he said, not sounding surprised that I was in serious trouble. “Let me take Emma until this blows over. I can take some time off. We’ll go down to Disney World. I’ve been promising her we’d go.”
Actually, that didn’t sound like a bad idea. “She’d love that.”
He managed a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “If it wasn’t for her, I’d stay and help you nail the assholes setting you up.”
“I know. But you’d be doing the right thing. Em comes first.”
“Em comes first,” he echoed.
In the break of uncomfortable silence, we heard Spooky screech and Gizmo let out a cry that resembled a chicken squawk. Things fell. Something broke. Bryn and Emma yelled.
“Sounds like Spooky just met Gizmo,” Will said, staring the door and wincing as a thud hit the wood.
“I should go help them.”
“Charlie,” he began before I could make a move to the door. I paused at the brief flash of desolation in his eyes. Then, they clouded over to firm conviction. “I can’t stop thinking about the other day. Me and you. We’ve got to deal with this, work things out.” He stilled completely, as though bracing himself. “Do you still love me?”
My nostrils flared. Blooms of heat stung my cheeks. Damn him! A riotous mix of anger and heartache flowed through me. He’d always been direct. It was one of the things I liked about him. But why did he have to bring this up now? And why did my body go all haywire lately when he was around?
He kept his features blank, but the muscles in his jaw worked overtime. A storm brewed in his blue eyes, but behind the turmoil there was caution and vulnerability. I hated seeing him like this, like some wounded animal clinging to his last bit of dignity and strength. The last thing I wanted was to hurt him, but I didn’t want to be hurt either.
My voice croaked when I tried to speak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Will …” After that, I didn’t know what to say.
A dark scowl twisted his mouth. It took two steps for him to reach me. I tried to move back, but the damn wall was already flat against my spine. He crowded me, conquering my space with the force of his body and will. The sexual tug of awareness that erupted between us was undeniable. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to slam his fist into the drywall or kiss me. Probably both.
“Do you?” he ground out, his voice trying to hide the raw hurt.
I swallowed and lifted my gaze to his. “Yes.” I drew in another breath and rushed out, “But it doesn’t change anything.” You don’t stop loving someone overnight, I wanted to say.
His face was level with mine as he braced his hand on the wall behind me and leaned closer. “It changes everything. Why give up on us if we both feel the same?”
“It’s not about love. Love isn’t the only thing that makes a relationship work.” My voice rose as I placed both palms on his chest to keep him back. “It’s about trust. Hell, I knew you loved me even when you did what you did.” He’d never been able to see my point. “But the crafting, Will … that was even worse than what happened with that woman. You knew how I felt about it. You knew Connor …”
Some of the urgency in his expression softened. “I know, Charlie, I know.” He stepped back and stared at the wreath on Bryn’s door before turning back to me. “I thought I could use the crafting to help get the business off the ground, that I could control how much I did and stay away from the really bad stuff. I guess … I don’t know … You trust me with Emma and you wouldn’t if you thought for one second I was crafting again. This isn’t about trust anymore, Charlie. This is about forgiveness, getting over the betrayal and the pain …”
The truth was like a knife to the softest part of the belly.
Fine. So what? I was hurt, and I wasn’t ready to let go and forgive him. Maybe he did see now the magnitude of what he’d done. But what did he expect; me to go running back because now he got it? Now he was ready?
He made a move closer, went to reach out, but changed his mind. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “We’d have to work at it, rebuild things together.”
Yeah, and hindsight is a bitch.
“Charlie,” he breathed on a heavy sigh.
Part of me didn’t want to disappoint him. Part of me wanted to make things work. His eyes held so much suffering and loneliness. And hope. How could I keep him apart from the family he wanted so badly? My chest ached, but I drew on every ounce of strength and conviction I had. My voice wavered. “I’m not ready. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”
A rigid curtain fell over his features. He nodded and squared his shoulders. “I can wait.” He pierced me with one last, hard look to tell me he meant it. Then, he opened Bryn’s door and went inside.
I slumped against the wall. Why now? I wanted to scream. Why the hell now? Why did he wait until after he ripped out my heart and destroyed everything before finally coming clean? Why wasn’t I worth it to never take the risk in the first place? Why wasn’t our marriage and our family worth it? Yeah, I knew all about the addiction side of things, but this was a question that never stopped cycling through my head in the last eight months. And I knew it was a question I’d never get a satisfactory answer to, no matter how many therapists said Will’s addiction had nothing to do with me.
A tornado of emotions whirled inside of me. It was too much, and I didn’t have the luxury of time to deal with it right now. With a deep breath and practiced ease, I centered myself and then shoved any thoughts of Will and my feelings aside, but the ache was still there like a thorn stuck under my rib cage.
Just add it to all the other aches and regrets.
Quickly, I wiped at my eyes, took a few more seconds to fan my face, and then I went inside to eat, shower, and change. Bryn wanted to do a little research on the Bleeding Soul legend and disappeared into her bedroom with her laptop. Once I was cleaned up, I told Emma and Will that I’d be back after dinner.
I had a meeting to attend.
After a quick call to Hank to coordinate the meeting at Mott Tech, I declined Will’s offer to drive me back to the Mustang, which was still parked near Centennial Park. I wanted some time to myself, so I borrowed two bucks from my daughter for the dollar-seventy-five fare to use the MARTA. I could have driven with Hank, but I’d had enough of emotional men for one day.
Bryn had lent me a black T-shirt, which was rather tight across the chest, but soft and stretchy. Her jeans fit me pretty well, hanging a little lower on the hips than I was used to, but, all in all, I felt normal again. She’d also lent me a jacket to wear to hide my shoulder holsters and sidearm. As an added precaution, I’d taken a glamour spell to change my hair color and eyes, but it’d wear off by the time I got to the security gate at Mott Tech.
My ankle had healed, just a few achy twinges here and there as I exited the MARTA station and walked the short distance to the Green Lot on Marietta Street where I’d parked the car.
The chief deserved a big old kiss for setting me up with his nephew’s car. It sat exactly where I’d parked it, shiny and red and totally badass. A smile spread across my face as I strolled to the car, my spirits lifting.
The engine rumbled to life like a growling beast ready to hunt. I shoved it in first and then released the clutch until it caught, giving it gas and surging into traffic. I loved stick shifts, especially the control I had over this V-8, three-hundred-horsepower monster.
Once on I-85, I cranked the stereo. Soul Asylum’s “Runaway Train” blared from the speakers. I sang along in my head, humored by the irony of those lyrics, since they were pretty much how I felt these days, and remembering when Connor and I would blast this song in his room and sing at the top of our lungs until Mom came upstairs and blessed us out. That seemed like a lifetime ago.
With the windows rolled down, the radio blaring, I finally felt some peace and quiet in my soul. Time to open up this baby and see what she can do, I thought, swinging into the fast lane and gunning it.
Once I’d exited the highway and turned onto the road leading to Mott Tech, I rolled up the windows and turned on the air conditioning. It wasn’t helping.
Anticipation bubbled through me, making my skin clammy and hot. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel and glanced in the rearview mirror constantly. Warnings fired through my brain like fireworks.
Whether it was a setup or not, Mott was going to tell me what really happened to me the night I died. Don’t ask me how I knew. I just knew. That night had released or given me surprising and strange abilities. Mott realized it. Now I realized it, too.
Finally, I turned down the winding road, which led to the main facility. Once the guards saw my face, they let me right through. I didn’t even have to brake the car to a full stop. The hairs on my arms stood up straight. I used the time it took to drive down the road to calm my nerves using deep, even breaths.
The sun was setting over the rooftop of the one- story building, stinging my eyes for a moment as I drove into the parking lot and found a space in the shadow of the building.
My cell rang. It was Hank.
“I got caught up with the chief,” he said straightaway. “I’m leaving the station now. Wait for me.”
I was already out of the car. “I’m already here.”
“Shit.” The stress in his voice stopped me cold. “The CPP has gone over the chief’s head. You’re to stop the investigation and come into the station to turn in your badge and weapons. You’re officially on leave, Charlie. I’m not so sure we’d have backup if we needed it. Just wait for me in the parking lot.”
I wasn’t surprised the CPP had gotten me recalled. It was only a matter of time. “Okay. Just hurry up.”
He hung up. I went back to the car and leaned against the door, wondering what the hell I’d do for the next thirty minutes. If it was a setup, they already knew I was here. We still weren’t sure if Titus was involved, or who was the mastermind behind the ash. And if Titus did have more info on the night I died, I’d rather hear it alone, without Hank as a witness. This was personal.
I blew a strand of loose hair from my face, chewing over the idea of going in anyway and scanning the parking lot for any recognizable vehicles. No limos, black SUVs, or suspicious sedans. The only thing left to do was wait, so I sat on the hood of the car and watched the orange ball of fire settle into the hazy horizon. Bored, I slid the rubber band off my ponytail, finger-combed my hair, which looked almost red in the glow of the setting sun, and then used the band to secure my tresses in a messy knot. It’d be another cool evening. Maybe, after this was over, Hank and I could walk down to the pavilion by the lake.
Ten minutes later, my cell phone rang again. “Madigan.”
“Would you rather talk in the parking lot, Detective?” came Titus’s questioning voice.
I glanced at the security camera. The underground lab gave me a trapped feeling, so I took him up on the offer. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all; just give me a few minutes to lock up down here, and I’ll come up.”
“Great.” I flipped my cell closed, feeling a wash of relief. Maybe it wasn’t a setup after all.
The sound of tire treads on asphalt edged in on my thoughts. A line of black vehicles blinked through the open spaces of the trees. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind who was in the limo.
Damn it!
I jumped into the car, revved the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot, fishtailing. There was only one way in and that was blocked, so I drove onto the grass, gaining speed to bypass the vehicles and come out behind the line of cars. At that moment, I wished the fire-engine-red Mustang was a nice camouflage green.
They noticed me almost immediately, but I’d acted quickly enough to dodge behind them. My teeth clattered as the car bumped wildly over the ground. Coming upon the road, I knew I was going too fast to make the turn, so I shoved the gear into neutral, hit the emergency brake, and spun the wheel, making a one-eighty right onto the blacktop road. Thank you, Connor! All those nights doing doughnuts in his old beat-up Camaro had paid off. I shoved the car in gear and took off toward the gatehouse. In the rearview mirror, black SUVs turned around and followed.
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.”