The Darkest Edge of Dawn

damn thing growls at me again, and he’s on the next transport back to Charbydon.”

Rex shot me a nasty look and let Brimstone out the back door. “He’s not a thing. He’s a hellhound. He has a name.”

I rolled my eyes as he popped the lid to a canister of antibacterial wipes, snagged a sheet, and wiped up the slobber. He chucked it in the trash and then placed one hand on the countertop and one on his hip, frowning expectantly like Will used to do when I’d done something wrong.

“What?” I asked. He huffed in response, waiting for me to magically understand his problem. So I took a wild guess. “Um … sorry I’m late?”

An impressive snort came out of his mouth and his eyes rolled. “You’re always late—that’s why I always start dinner an hour after you say you’re going to be home.” Rex’s eyes grew round and exasperated as I still had no clue. “The garlic? The tomatoes? I asked you to get a few things …” He marched to the oven to check on dinner. The smell that erupted was wonderful. Lasagna or baked ziti, I guessed. “You know, I work all day long in this house and the least you can do is remember when I call.”

I heard the footsteps on the stairs and bit back my reply, waiting for Emma to come around the corner and into the kitchen. The mini bowling ball in her hands was a surprise. “Oh, hey, Mom.”

I stopped her as she passed, pushing her long, wavy bangs back to kiss her forehead. “What’s with the bowling ball?”

“It’s Brim’s. He’s torn up the other dog balls we got and—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I stepped back. “You’ve been playing ball with the hellhound?”

I turned a murderous gaze on Rex as he pulled on oven mitts. “Well, they get along great,” he muttered in defense, knowing I was about to go nuclear.

“Mom …” Emma started in a tone that said she knew it, too, but I didn’t let her finish.

“No, Emma. I don’t care how great you get along. He’s a hellhound. They are trained to kill. They’re born with the instinct. I was attacked by one today—”

“You were? Did you hurt it?”

“What? No, I had her sent back to Charbydon.”

“Mom! That place is dying and—”

“How do you know their moon is dying?”

“Don’t you ever watch TV? And it’s not really a moon. Everyone just calls it that; it’s more like a white dwarf star. Or that’s the theory anyway. And now we have to do some stupid science report at school … Everyone has to come up with a hypothesis on how to …” She shook her head, realizing she was getting off track. “Sooner or later, someone’s going to have to go in there and rescue all those poor animals anyway. You should’ve brought her home. We could’ve set up another kennel next to Brim.”

I blinked, wondering if my daughter had lost her mind. Or maybe whatever the hell made Rex such a kook was catching. “This isn’t a hellhound sanctuary, Em. You can’t trust them. You turn your back on Brim for one second or look at him the wrong way, and he’ll remember he’s not Fluffy the Dog, but a killer, and I don’t want you to be in his path when he does.” I fired a hard look at Rex. “It stays in the kennel.”

“Mom!”

I didn’t answer, instead letting my angry footsteps carry me up the stairs. I refused to argue about it. The beast needed to go back to Charbydon. I was too pissed off to stay in the same room with Rex right now. He continually went behind my back and broke all my rules. What the hell was that going to teach my kid?

I removed my boots and jeans and then pulled on a pair of Lycra yoga pants and sneakers, stopping to look at myself in the full-length mirror to put my hair into a ponytail. Though my appetite had been insane the last two months, I’d still lost weight since the darkness ritual. Shadows lurked beneath my eyes, and I knew it wasn’t just weight I was losing. My body was worn out, tired of fighting on the inside. Having two opposing powers inside of me was taking its toll, exhausting me.

I gathered the long, wavy hair that fell to the small of my back. It was darker than Emma’s auburn-brown locks, but it fit my personality, and I liked the way the copper and mahogany tones mixed with the brown and matched my eyes. My lips pursed, taking the natural fullness out of them as I examined my reflection. My skin was paler. Hips a little thinner. But otherwise, I looked like the same old Charlie. Only exhausted.

A long exhale breezed through my lips, as my reflection dimmed.

What the—

My image completely disappeared along with the mirror, until I was looking at the wall beyond. I blinked hard, seeing strange linked patterns behind my eyelids. Damn. I must be more tired than I thought. I shook my head, knowing it wasn’t possible to see through the mirror; it was just my mind playing tricks. When I chanced a look again, the mirror was there and my reflection scowled back at me.

The back door slammed, echoing through the house. I stepped to the right, leaning toward the window to see Rex’s shadowy form in the yard below, leading Brimstone to the kennel. Emma’s door down the hall slammed, too, this one rattling the walls and making me flinch. Terrific. Now everyone was pissed.

I rubbed my hands down my face, hearing Rex return from the kennel. I thought about going downstairs to reinforce my argument. But it was pointless. I was right, he was wrong. And we’d do nothing but go around in circles. I was the parent. Emma might hate me for it, but my job was to protect her.

Trying to get through to Rex might be pointless, but my kid was another matter.

My need to have her understand propelled me down the hallway to her room. I knocked softly, wondering what had happened to the old days when she thought I could do no wrong and sought me out for the smallest comfort. She didn’t answer. I pushed the door open to find her lying on her stomach across her bed, using the large, brown, stuffed bunny Will had given to her last Easter as a pillow.

I sat on the bed. “Emma, you have to think rationally about this.”

She rolled onto her side, raising up on one elbow and looking down the length of her thin body to where I sat. Her finger twined around the bunny’s ear. “Mom, you don’t know Brim. You can’t say that unless you spend some time with him.” She sat up, cross-legged, pulling the bunny into her lap. “You’re the only one of us who hasn’t and that’s why he doesn’t trust you yet.”

“Can you hear what you’re saying? That thing has to trust me? You’re talking about a hellhound, Emma. Trust doesn’t exist with them.”

Her full lips went thin and her chin lifted, the stubborn expression reminding me of Bryn from earlier. She cocked her head as her eyes took on a challenging copper gleam. “Well how about trusting me, then? I’ll be twelve next month. I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t put myself in danger.”

“Not on purpose, no.”

Her mouth dipped. “He’s calm around me. I’ve been reading about hellhounds and they’re loyal to their packs, so loyal they’d die for them, and—”

“But we’re not his pack, kiddo.”

“We are,” she stressed, growing upset that she couldn’t break through to me. “He’s probably never even had a pack before. Daddy said they probably got him as a puppy and just kept him chained up all alone.”

“That’s even more reason to be wary of him. If he’s never been around a pack before, he doesn’t even know the rules, how to act, the boundaries … He’s a dangerous animal and should go back to Charbydon.”

I tried to soften the reality of what I was saying with my tone, but she just shook her head, tears shining in her round eyes, her cheeks flushing. “He wouldn’t know how to survive in the wild! Can’t you just try? For once, just try something someone else’s way? How about my way? I’m part of this family, too. I should have a say like everyone else.”

“Emma.”

“We’ll vote on it.”

“No, we won’t vote on it. This is my house, and my money that’s paying for Brim’s food, which he isn’t even eating by the way.”

“He doesn’t like dry dog food. Daddy even told you, but you don’t even listen to him.”

“Yeah, well, Daddy doesn’t know everything. Maybe you should start listening to