The Darkest Edge of Dawn

a creamy white, as my veins became more prominent. Then they moved, making patterns. “What …”

I shot up, sitting straight, my heart in my throat. What the hell? I blinked hard and then opened my eyes. Nothing. Just my forearm and the long, partially healed scar that ran down the middle where I’d sliced my vein open to bring darkness to the city.

Emma’s door creaked, followed by the tap of Brimstone’s claws on the floor and then the thuds on the stairs as they went down to the back door.

Just blood vessels and my fuzzy morning eyesight, I told myself. Yeah, blood vessels that moved and made linked, script-like patterns.

Just get up and get moving. Get working on the case.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and filed the episode away, making a note to mention the odd visions I’d been having to Aaron at our next training session, then I listened to my inner voice, grabbing my clothes and heading to the downstairs bathroom since mine was partially destroyed.

Once dressed in dark cargo pants and a stretchy white button-down shirt, I twisted up my hair with a clip, put in my diamond studs, and applied a layer of mascara and a quick swipe of clear lip gloss. The aroma of brewing coffee led me to the kitchen where I expected to find Rex tooling around, but he was nowhere in sight. Ravenous, I wolfed down a plain bagel and fixed two cups of coffee, one for Rex, and then leaned against the counter, taking several sips of the thick, hot liquid and feeling infinitely better.

Em came down the stairs in her school uniform—white blouse, Black Watch plaid skirt, knee-high white socks, and black Mary Janes. Her book bag was slung over one shoulder, a Pop Tart in her mouth that she must’ve grabbed when she let Brim out earlier, and her other hand holding her Cobweb outfit for the play. I set the cup down and pulled the Pop Tart out of her mouth. “Good morning.”

“Morning. Practice for the play starts at four.” A horn honked outside. “That’s Miss Marti and Amanda. I have to go. It’s dress rehearsal, so I won’t be home until seven.”

“Okay. Have fun, kid. And leave your amulets on when you change.” I kissed her and then stuck the Pop Tart back into her waiting mouth. She smiled, somehow mumbling a goodbye as she trotted down the hall, the fairy wings on her costume bobbing, and out the front door.

I finished my coffee, set the mug in the sink, and then went to the foyer closet to get my weapons harness off the hook. I strapped it on, checking all three of my weapons as I walked back down the hall to grab another bagel. I was just snapping the flap over my Hefty when Rex came out of the downstairs bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist and in the process of drying his hair with another towel.

Two more steps and I would’ve smacked right into him, but that didn’t stop the scent of aftershave and clean skin from springing up all around me—the scents of memories. My stomach seemed to go instantly empty despite the bagel and coffee.

I stood frozen in the hall, mentally and emotionally caught off guard. Will’s body appeared as fit as ever, and it looked even better with droplets of water clinging to hard pecs and abs. The one thing I’d probably never get over was the fact that my ex looked really, really good.

Slowly, he withdrew the towel from his head, using his other hand to run his fingers through the wet hair, pushing it back from his forehead. His Adam’s apple bobbed slowly, and he eyed me for a long second, frozen like I was.

My mouth had gone paper dry, but I managed a swallow. “Is he in there right now?” Grief burned through my chest. “Do you hear him at all?”

A corner of his mouth dipped, and he shook his head, his baby blues taking on a pitiful look. “Sorry.”

Not even a little bit? I wanted to ask, wondering why I felt compelled to keep asking the question; the answer was not going to change. I wanted something, a tiny bit of hope, a sign that would allow me to throw my arms around him, smell his familiar scent, and just hold on to him for a while, but he wasn’t in there and—

Rex’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me close.

Stunned, I didn’t move, but my other senses went on high alert. God. He smelled the same, felt the same, and my reaction was the same—one of great comfort, like curling up in your favorite blanket right after it came out of the dryer. Rex’s hand pressed the small of my back and the other hand cradled my head, holding me so that my cheek pressed against his shoulder. For one small second, I let my eyes close.

Why? Why had Will gone and done something so irrevocable? I’d loved him. There had been a chance between us. Had he been patient. Had he been thinking about us instead of himself. Disappointment and regret crept into my heart like salt sprinkled onto an open wound. I pushed away, my cheeks burning. “Don’t do that again.”

Rex stared at me for a long moment. “You wanted me to.”

“No, I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want Will to, either. So don’t touch me again. Got it?” I pivoted on my heel, forgetting about the extra bagel, grabbed my things out of the front closet, and left.

I parked on Alabama Street and hurried to Underground, stopping at the small grocery store on the corner of the plaza and Mercy Street to pick up some groceries and essentials for Bryn. Then I made a quick beeline for the bakery shop at the head of Helios Alley to get another coffee to go and two gigantic Aeva buns.

The Elysian imps made the best baked goods in the universe, and the Aeva bun was like eating a sugary cloud, so light and fluffy that each bite melted as soon as it hit your tongue. Every time I ate one I forgave the imps for their other talent—nimble fingers and an extreme weakness to possess shiny objects that did not belong to them.

I placed one of the buns into a grocery bag, then looped six of the plastic bag handles over my left forearm and three over my right, leaving my hands free so I could eat the other Aeva bun and drink my coffee. A little clunky, but doable. I was done with the bun way before I got to Bryn’s door, and hit the buzzer.

She met me at the top of the landing in a large sleep shirt. “Here.” I held out the second Aeva bun as I scooted past her rumpled form. It wasn’t the healthiest breakfast in the world, but the Aeva that gave the heavenly confection its name was very similar to sugarcane, and the sugar-like rush would get Bryn up and moving.

She shut the door behind me as I hurried to put the groceries away. “Did you feed Gizmo yet?” I asked, noticing the water bowl was full, but the food bowl was empty.

“Yeah. He’s snoozing on top of the cabinet there.” Mouth full, she pointed to the kitchen cabinet, the top end. A small bit of his forked tail hung over the edge. Gargoyles loved to be up high.

I closed the refrigerator and stuffed a few things into the pantry. “You take your dose yet?”

Bryn sat on the arm of the couch, her bare legs stretched out, ankle bracelets dangling. She reminded me of Emma just then, swallowed up in a long, oversized shirt and her hair a wild mess.

“I’ll take that as a no.” I shoved the bags into the recycling container. “Where is it?”

“Bathroom,” she answered, cheeks full.

I searched for the small packs of ash, but couldn’t find them. “Where?” I yelled over my shoulder as I bent down to root under the sink.

Her voice came from behind me. “It doesn’t come in those powder packs anymore.” She stepped into the bathroom, reaching over me as I stood and pulling what looked exactly like an inhaler from the medicine cabinet. “Titus made these for us. You just twist it to your scheduled dose, press down, and it punctures the pack, then you inhale the powder.” She performed the actions as she spoke and then pressed her lips to the indented edge and drew in a deep breath.

Her eyes rolled. She took two steps back and slumped against the wall. Her pale throat worked. Her nostrils flared. An expression of ecstasy slid over her features, but as her eyelids closed, a tear slipped out. Her voice was raw when she spoke. “I hate this, Charlie.”

My fist closed, my fingernails digging deep into my palm. Goddammit. I pulled my little sister off the wall, gathering her into my arms, taking some of her weight to support her weakened body. “I’m sorry,” I whispered into her hair.

Her arms hung limp as the drug worked its way through her system. Ash had hit the market so fast, and it had a devastating effect on humans. It was rapture in powdered form made from a legendary, bioluminescent Charbydon flower, Sangurne N’ashu, a Bleeding Soul. It either killed on first dose, or hooked you. After some users who had survived the initial dose began dying afterward, we learned that the withdrawal was just as deadly as an overdose. The only way to keep their body from shutting down was to keep feeding them ash in small, manageable doses.