Footsteps ground glass into tile. Mynogan and Carreg came around the corner. “We both did,” Mynogan said, flicking a piece of glass off his lapel. The guy had a serious case of OCD when it came to his clothes.
The pain in my body was fading fast, my senses and strength returning. “You both did,” I echoed in disbelief, trying to stall another round of punishment as long as I could.
“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?
Only Bryn had remained silent and unjudging.
My parents didn’t understand, even after I explained my need to protect them and myself after Connor’s murder. I’d vowed to never be in a situation where I couldn’t defend myself. And once I had Emma, the desire to protect and defend became even stronger. It seemed the only other women I knew who completely understood my motivation were others in law enforcement or the military, or those who’d been victims of trauma. My parents’ friends and extended family certainly couldn’t understand it. And it always made me feel like the renegade/loser of the family. At least in their eyes.
I removed my charm and washed the bloodstained crystal disk and chain, then splashed cold water on my face, using a clean towel to wipe off the excess and dry the necklace, realizing that my sister understood me more than anyone. And I hadn’t even given her credit for that, along with everything else.
Finished with the towel, I inspected the scratches and a few deep cuts from my trip through the lab mir ror. My bottom lip was still swollen from the deep slice down the middle. Lacerations were healing on my chin and left temple.
Bryn was banging around in the kitchen when I exited the bathroom. “I’m going to make sure Emma and Will get off okay and then I’ll be back.”
“One sec,” she said, her head popping over the cabinet door and then disappearing again. A second later, she came to the counter and handed me a bag of Doritos and a can of Diet Pepsi. “Here, it’s all I’ve got at the moment. Not only do I need to do laundry, but I’ve got to grocery shop, too.”
I hardly ever cried in front of my family. But seeing her standing there, eyes wide and supportive, made my throat close. I couldn’t speak, so I nodded my thanks. A small smile tugged on her pale lips.
“Oh, and take this. It’s a cloaking charm.” She placed a small rectangular silver piece in my hand. It was hammered and irregular. “This took me five months to make. Read the inscription clockwise and you’ll go completely unnoticed by those who wish you harm. Say the last word three times to deactivate it once you get to the car.” I turned it over and saw inscriptions written around the edge. None of the words made sense, just a jumble of consonants and vowels.
“I don’t know how … Here, you keep it.” I shoved it at her, uncomfortable with magic as I’d always been.
She shoved it back to me. “Trust me, you need it. There are two black mages across the street. I saw them from the bedroom window, and they’re not here to window-shop. They had to have seen you come in, so they’ll be waiting. Sound out the words exactly as they’re written. It’s easy. Just say the words and then get the hell out of Underground.”
“What about you?”
“Please. I can take care of myself. Why do you think they’re waiting outside?”
Her bravado made us both laugh, but I came to another understanding. My sister was a force to be reckoned with. She hadn’t earned her spot at the League of Mages by being a weakling. I hugged her one more time over the counter, taking a deep breath of her herby scent. “I love you, Bryn,” I mumbled against her hair.
“Love you, too, Charlie.” She eyed the charm in my hand. “It’s got enough magic in it to use twice, but it’ll wear off fast. Should be just enough to get you to the car and back.”
A new appreciation blossomed for my little sister. “Thanks.”
She walked me to the door. “I’d wait until just before you open the downstairs door before invoking the charm.”
“Got it.”
I was an emotional wreck walking down the stairs. Thankfully Bryn had closed her door behind me and locked it. The last thing I wanted was an audience when I invoked the charm. Magic made me extremely uneasy. It was a practice that I avoided at all costs. And now here I was about to invoke my first spell. Bryn’s probably jumping up and down with glee behind the door, I thought.
At the exit, I drew in a deep breath, reminding myself that I’d faced harder things than this. Invoking a charm should be a breeze. There was nothing to be afraid of, except maybe turning myself into a donkey. Way to be positive, Charlie.
Okay, I could do this. I didn’t have time to deal with two black mages right now, and getting to the car and then to Will’s was priority number one.
With the soda can in one hand, the edge of the Doritos bag held between two fingers, I opened my free hand and read the inscription exactly as it was written. “Brac sabacus romulatus abento inveridon.” I read the clockwise spiral, repeating the chant the four times it was written before the spiral ended in the center.
Nothing happened on the inside, but the air around me condensed to a palpable energetic force. The hairs on my arms stood straight. Holy Mary, Mother of God. I’d done it! Well, at least, I thought so. A feeling of accomplishment went through me. I turned, wanting to race up the steps and tell Bryn.
But it would have to wait.
Here goes nothing.I gripped the knob, creaked the door open, and slipped through the small opening. Hopefully they hadn’t seen the movement of the door. I stepped onto the sidewalk and into the hustle and bustle of Mercy Street at night. The exhausts on every pub and restaurant were working overtime, sending the aroma of food into the air. It all smelled like French fries. I scanned the crowd. Shoppers. Pub crawlers. Couples. And then I spied them standing in the shadow of a large potted palm tree, which held open the door to Abracas Bar & Grill. A long line of patrons waited for tables in the popular eatery, giving the black mages even more cover.
The undercover cop didn’t even see them. I probably wouldn’t have either if it wasn’t for Bryn. Or maybe I would have if I had remembered to tap into my newly discovered gene pool—hard thing to do if you spent your life relying on your human traits and training.
Their once-green aura was tainted with the smut of darkness. It surrounded them like a dirty cirrus cloud. I and other law enforcement called them Pig-Pens. I didn’t make it up, but it sure as hell fit. That was the price they paid for sacrificing their Elysian power for the dark power that fed Charbydon. One male. One female. Both tall and thin with their shoulder-length hair tied back from stoic faces. Their pearly dark eyes scanned the crowd, and they stood so still I wondered if they could be seen by your average Joe.
With a deep breath, I stepped off the sidewalk and into the street at a fast clip. They didn’t follow. Thank you, Bryn! I thought, breaking into a run.
Twenty minutes later, I pounded on Will’s front door in the newly developed and swanky town home community of Weston Heights. He wasn’t answering and my concern spiked. “Will?” I called loudly. “Will, open up!” I pounded harder and rang the bell several times.
Please don’t tell me I’m too late. I hurried around the landscaped walk and knocked on the neighbor’s door. The porch light was off and there were no lights in the windows, unlike Will’s brightly lit end unit. My heart thudded hard. Panic surged through me. My hands trembled as I pulled my weapon, moved to his front door, gathered my energy, and kicked the door directly above the knob. It splintered open with a loud crack.
Carefully, I edged inside the hardwood foyer, staying against the wall and praying they were okay.
Down the hall, the living room opened into a vaulted space. Furniture was upended. Pictures askew on the walls. Fear stole my breath. I was too late.
I found Will’s body facedown on the floor.
“Will!”
Quickly, I scrambled over the chaos and knelt by his side. His pulse was faint, but still there. Thank God it was there. With shaking hands, I called 911 and then continued through the house, yelling for Emma.
Somehow I knew she wasn’t there, but I checked anyway, checked every goddamn room, closet, and corner. In the bathroom, I slumped against the wall, holding my Nitro-gun to my chest, the pain washing over me in enormous waves. The sour burn of raw anguish built in my torso and throat. I couldn’t remember how to breathe. It felt as though everything—soul, heart, lungs, skin, and blood—was being sucked away, leaving behind a hollow shell.
She was gone. Em was gone.
Find Em … have to find Em. Have to breathe.
My lungs deflated.
Pressure built in my chest and face.
Numbness stole through my oxygen-deprived limbs, but slowly a vibrating, demanding force, my will, shoved me out of my immobile panic. Breathe, Charlie! I gasped for air, heart straining and tired lungs filling. Finally.
I pushed away from the wall, my senses returning, and then I sprang into action, flying down the stairs to Will, heart and lungs trying to keep up and recoup.
“Will! Will, wake up!” I turned him over, tears choking my words. My shaking hands roamed over his head, neck, and torso, but there were no outward signs of trauma. Fueled by desperation and adrenaline, I slapped him across the face, screaming his name and shaking him by the shoulders.
His eyes blinked open with a start. Oh, thank you, God. “Will, where’s Emma?”
He didn’t answer, but his gaze darted around the room as though seeing it for the first time.
“Where did they take her? Did they say anything?” My heart was pistoning so fast, tears flowing, throat closing. “Come on, Will, please stay with me.”
Will’s arms moved slowly over his head, and then he gave a lazy, thorough stretch. I released his shoulders and sat back, dumbfounded, as he yawned, pushed up on his hands, and graced me with a blinding grin.
The aura around him went from his usual cloudy blue to gray with black swirls. Dread sucked the air from my lungs once again. I floundered around for the Nitro-gun, which I’d set on the floor before checking him for injuries, and then scrambled back on my rear, pointing it at him. It clattered in my hand, I shook so badly.
“You must be Charlie.” He sat up all the way and inspected his hands.
“Who the hell are you? And where’s my kid?”
He stopped examining his hands to study me for a moment. One corner of his mouth twisted into a half smile. A shiver crept along my spine. “I’m the guy your hubby sold his soul to.”
Shock siphoned the blood from my face. “I don’t believe you. Will would never do that.”
His head cocked slowly. It was Will, but it seemed like a puppet worked the strings, a puppet still not used to its body. “I have the paperwork, signature and all.”
“Soul bartering is illegal. Restore him to his body now.” I stood. Tremors weakened my limbs. I never thought I’d find the sight of Will Garrity eerie and repugnant. I never thought he’d go this far. The reality of what he’d done began to sink in and made my eyes sting.
Will pushed to his feet, unfolding himself slowly, testing out his new body, stretching his legs and arms, and wiggling his fingers. He tipped his neck both ways until it cracked and then rolled his shoulders. “Soul bartering is not illegal in Canada,” he said with a vacant look as he accessed Will’s recent memories; the only ones available to him.
“You’re not in Canada anymore. Will is a United States citizen. Give him back.”
“No.”
My fingers gripped the gun harder. Goddammit, Will! He’d sold his body and soul to a Revenant—a spirit entity that granted one’s greatest desire in exchange for a body to inhabit when it was that body’s time to die. Revenants were good at making deals with those whose lives would be cut short. Some said they could see a person’s death and, therefore, only made contracts with those who’d die at a young age.
I wanted to hurt this thing inside of my husband’s body, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Still in disbelief and my head spinning, I whispered, “Why?” How could he do this?
“Because he loved you,” Will’s voice echoed in the quiet. “I was going to give him the means to win your heart back, but … timing is everything, I guess. The guy sold his afterlife to live out his life with you. Too bad he kicked the bucket before that could happen.” He shrugged. “Not my problem, though.”
“And you knew,” I muttered, my legs giving out. I sank into the chair behind me, the gun hanging limp in my hand. “You knew he was going to die.” My stomach clenched hard against the queasiness burgeoning in my gut.
“Not like this. When I met him, the guy had a good ten years at least. He thought it was worth it. But then love makes people do desperate, stupid things. I’ve seen far worse, believe me.” Will lifted his arm and delicately sniffed the skin and then brushed his lips against the hairs on his arms. “I didn’t swindle him if that’s what you’re thinking. Look, your ex wasn’t an idiot. He knew when I agreed to contract with him that he’d die in the prime of his life. Living out whatever time he had left with you, with all the things he’d ever wanted, was worth it to him. If you’re going to go anyway, why not, right?”
I tried not to shout, but it didn’t work. “Why not?!” I should just shoot him now. “Why not is because you’re giving up any chance of an afterlife, that’s why not. His soul is stuck inside a body he no longer controls!” I wanted to kill Will for this! Anger was much easier than guilt. Realizing Will had given up his afterlife just to be with me and Em again was too much to swallow.
He ignored my outburst. “Took quite a beating from the jinn who were here earlier,” the Revenant said, delicately straightening Will’s bloodied shirt with his fingertips.
I went completely still. “The jinn.”
“Yeah. They gave me a message for you: ‘The boss says to tell you the second debt is paid.’”
Oh God. Tennin. He had taken payment for the debt. He had taken Will. I doubled over and grabbed my stomach, rage blinding my vision.
“Have to give him props,” the Revenant went on. “Your guy took a hell of a lot more than I expected. His heart was on its last few beats by the time I got here. Good thing, too, or he would’ve gone straight into the afterlife.”
Something I didn’t know. I raised my head. “If you’re not here to collect at their last breath then they go to the afterlife?”
“Soul and all. Contract null and void. We can’t inhabit a dead body without its soul. Just the way it is.” He sniffed. “If you wanna reanimate a corpse, go talk to a necromancer.”
I forced down the desperation rising in my throat. “Does that mean he’s still aware, alive?”
“Eh, sort of like in limbo.”
It was a tiny bit of hope, but I grabbed on to it for dear life. If there was a way to save Will and eject this creature, I’d find it. But right now, Emma was out there somewhere. And there were sirens in the distance. We needed to go before getting held up by the police and medics.
I stood, spurred into action, already halfway to the foyer. “C’mon. We need to find my daughter.”
“Not my problem.”
Oh, no he didn’t.
Fuck it. I swung around and shot him with my Nitro-gun.