The Better Part of Darkness

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.”