The Better Part of Darkness

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.”

CHAPTER 12

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