The Better Part of Darkness

around her, and watch her for a few minutes. She could center me. Just looking at her reminded me of my priorities, my strength, my purpose.

Underground at this time of night was eerily quiet—a time when your footsteps echoed louder than normal and shadows grew at every turn. I walked at a fast clip across the dimly lit promenade and then down Mercy Street. A few waitresses passed by, but they were in too much of a hurry to get home to notice me. There was a police officer, waiting for the manager to lock the pub across the street and take his money to the bank. Another group headed down my side of the street, but I’d already come to Bryn’s door, next to the shop, and was able to turn my back to them as I pressed the buzzer.

I had to press four times before she finally answered. She never answered before that because jerks and drunks were known to walk by and randomly press buzzers.

“Who is it?” she asked in sleepy stereo.

“It’s Charlie.” I glanced over my shoulder, making sure no one watched. The door buzzed. I turned the knob and pushed.

Bryn’s entrance was just a stairwell to a second-floor landing and another door, which led into her apartment over the shop. The door opened before I reached the landing. Bryn stood in the doorway, hands shoved into a cotton waffle-weave robe. Sleep had tangled her loose hair and swollen the delicate skin around her eyes, making her look young and vulnerable. Like my kid sister.

“What’s wrong?” She moved aside to let me in.

A small lamp in the living room was on. It was quiet here, too. The shades were drawn, but warmth still surrounded this place, like always. I slid off my jacket and began removing my firearms, setting them on the table in the foyer. Bryn moved into the adjoining kitchen and began making a pot of decaf, yawning as she filled the carafe with water.

I slid onto one of the kitchen counter stools. “How’s Em?”

“Good. She did her homework with Will and then we went to visit Amanda at the hospital. I hope that was okay. I know you don’t want Em to worry, but I think it made her feel better to go.” I gave a nod of agreement, wishing I could’ve gone too. “We ate dinner, Em took a shower. Everything’s fine. She’s fine.” Bryn hit the brew button and then turned toward me. “You on the other hand … What happened?”

I let my arms slide over the cool surface of the countertop, wanting nothing more than to lay my head down and drift off to sleep. “The CPP is calling for my arrest after what happened this morning. They’re picketing my house. I can’t go home right now.” I didn’t mention the jinn debt. Bryn knew the score. I let my head fall onto my arm. “I just want this all to be over with.”

Thankfully, she didn’t mention the debt. Instead she went to the fridge and pulled out some cheddar cheese and jalapenos, and then a bag of tortilla chips from the pantry. Comfort food. She spread the chips on a plate. “Do you think Emma is safe? Should she go to school tomorrow?” She sprinkled a generous portion of cheese onto the chips and then added the sliced jalapenos.

“Yeah, security is tight at the school. But I’ll have an officer go over in the morning to keep an eye out. You want an escort?”

She lifted her chin and fixed me with a frank look. “I know it’s hard to fathom, but I can take care of us.” At that, she put the plate into the microwave. Once it was melting the cheese, she turned back to the fridge and got out salsa and sour cream. Her face was stern as she grabbed two small bowls.

“What about you, Charlie? What about earlier? You killed three jinn and then healed yourself. How long do you think you can keep ignoring what’s going on?” She stood in front of the counter, both hands braced in front of her.

I raised my head and straightened my spine. I was too tired to deal with this right now. “Bryn—”

“No, don’t,” she said. “Don’t ‘Bryn’ me, okay? You almost died today. Again. I’m sick of you being like this, Charlie! I’m your sister. And I’m sure as hell not stupid enough to believe whatever excuse you’re about to throw at me. What? You can handle it? You can figure it out … alone?” Her voice rose, but tempered enough not to wake Emma. The microwave beeped, but she ignored it. “Stop being an idiot. Stop acting like you have no one, that no one is good enough or has the ability to help you. Get off your goddamn high horse, for once.”

The microwave beeped again. I stared wide-eyed, stunned by her outburst.

High horse?

My ego wasn’t that big to think no one could help me. Was it? Was that what she really thought? Was that what everyone else thought, too?

The plate of nachos slid onto the counter with a slight rattle. Bryn’s cheeks were mottled pink as she grabbed one, shoved it into the sour cream and then into her mouth. She even chewed angry. “Have some before they get cold,” she mumbled, leaning into the corner of the counter and taking another one.

Automatically, I did. The first bite of melted cheese, salty nacho, and hot pepper made me realize that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. My stomach let out an eager growl.

“Connor had gifted blood, too,” she said, eyes narrowing. “You always denied it, but he did. Just like you deny yours.”

The mention of our brother closed my throat and brought a sting of tears to my eyes. Bryn handed me a bottled water from the fridge. The cold liquid soothed my throat and helped temper my emotions. “Can we not talk about him?”

She sighed. “You never want to talk about anything.”

“That’s not true.”

“Uh, yeah it is. You’ve never talked about him; you do know that, right? You keep it all to yourself.” She blinked back sudden tears. Her lips trembled. “I loved him, too. Don’t you think I deserve to know what he felt, what he said to you the day he died?” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and threw her hands in the air. “You know something, Charlie? You do whatever you want, and you never think about anyone but yourself. It’d be too hard for you to talk, too hard for you to ask for help … Does it ever occur to you that the rest of us feel left out, not a part of your little one-woman club?” She paced in front of the counter, gave one last huff, shot me a glare, and then said, “Forget it. I’m going to bed.”

What the hell?

Her door shut softly, and I stared at it for a long time, a chip in my hand, paused in midair. Bryn never went off like that. And more startling were her words—words that hit my very heart and made it face truths I didn’t want it to. I wasn’t selfish. How could she say that? But even as I convinced myself of my innocence, I knew she was right. I’d always told myself that I kept things locked away because it would only hurt her. Better she didn’t know. Better she didn’t get involved in my current state. Better for whom? Who was I to decide that for her?

God, you’re a dumbass sometimes.

The last ones in the world I’d ever hurt were my family. But I had. I’d hurt my sister without even realizing it.

I ate another chip, wondering why I felt like I had to carry all my burdens alone. That question rolled around my mind as I finished the nachos and then cleaned up. We hadn’t touched the coffee. Typical.

I sat on the couch and removed my shoes, sitting back for a moment to wiggle my toes and let my muscles finally relax. My mind, however, was filled with self-loathing and analyzing. Hell, maybe I deserved to carry my burdens alone. Maybe it was my penance.

I should have listened to my brother’s voice in my head the day he died.

He cried out to me, and I didn’t listen.

Connor and I were more than your average twins. Bryn was right, he had gifted blood, but then so did I when it came to Connor. From our earliest memories, Connor and I could hear each other’s thoughts. As children it was fun. But, as teenagers, we routinely blocked each other out. I mean, who wants to hear lusty teenage boy thoughts or share your secret crush? We’d gotten good at blocking. And I’d gotten good at denying we were special. As a teenager all I wanted was to fit in, not stand out. Especially in a bad way. I’d seen how people had treated my clairvoyant grandmother before the Revelation. Called her a kook, a liar, a weirdo … So when Connor called to me, I’d blocked him out as usual. I didn’t know he was about to die, that he was trying to ask for my help to save him.

He died because I didn’t listen.