The Darkest Edge of Dawn

swanky neighborhood of Buckhead.

“Yeah. She lives here with her two-point-five kids, Labrador retriever, and devoted husband.” While she had completely destroyed my life. She’d earned her title.

“Let me do the talking.” Hank got out of the car.

I followed him up the steps and waited as he rang the doorbell. A jingle proceeded the open door, and we were greeted with the Labrador—which had just been a guess on my part—and a slim, highly seductive-looking woman in a white cocktail dress and upswept brown hair streaked with gold tones.

The Bitch herself. Nuallan Gow.

Hurt and anger mushroomed in my gut like a cold burst of wind. My fist curled into a tight ball. She took one look at me and slammed the door.

I leaned forward and rang the bell again, holding it down. When that didn’t work, I started making a little tune with the doorbell. “Jingle Bells.” It was the holiday season, after all. I could do this all fucking night. And I was certain she didn’t want her husband coming to investigate.

No matter how hard we tried, Hank and I had been unable to pin the ghoul attack on her. Her followers were completely devoted, and the creature who carried out her orders to kill me had taken the fall completely and willingly.

There was a huge scandal when I’d accused her of being a black crafter, but she and her husband had the luxury of money and attorneys on their side, and no one believed an upstanding citizen like herself would ever do something so terrible. The ITF was clearly grasping at straws.

The click of her heels made me release the doorbell and stand back once more, linking my hands behind me, so I wouldn’t be tempted to punch her in the face when she answered.

The door opened and she stepped out onto the wide front porch, closing it quietly behind her. “I am having a dinner party, Detectives.”

I rolled my eyes as her perfume reached my nose, perfume that hid the stench of black crafting’s telltale scent of wet ashes. She had no aura whatsoever, which was no surprise. She kept a tight lock on her extracurricular activities and hid any and all signs of what she truly was.

Her dark, bewitching gaze fell on me, her lush red lips thinning as they dipped down. Her beauty, I liked to imagine, was a glamour spell, and in real life, when all the crafting was stripped away, she was a haggard old witch.

“We’re in need of your skills, Ms. Gow,” Hank said. “We’re hoping to save a life, a very good one.”

My hands twitched, but I kept them firmly locked. The struggle inside of me was so great that sweat broke out on the small of my back and my heart was pounding from the hurt of old memories, and the injustice that came with it. She never gave a damn about breaking up my family, changing the entire future for me and my kid, or the pain my child had gone through during the divorce. None of that mattered to her. She’d had her fun and then moved on, leaving me and my family to pick up the pieces. I wanted to stab her in the face, but since I couldn’t do that, I sent a silent plea to the Powers That Be that karma would come back a thousand-fold and bite Nuallan Gow in the ass.

“Charlie?” Hank asked, leaning close.

“Huh?”

Nuallan smirked, eyes traveling from my head to my toes and back again with an unimpressed expression. “Having trouble focusing, Detective? Thinking about the past, are we?”

I gaped and then snapped my lips closed and did a one-eighty, giving her my back and looking up at the hard face of my partner as he stepped in front of me. “I’m going to kill her now,” I whispered. “Please let me kill her.”

Hank grabbed my shoulders and turned me back around, saying over my shoulder, “You’re the only one with the knowledge to save this man’s body until we can return his soul to him. But we need to do it now.”

“Why should I help you?”

I cut off Hank’s reply. “Because you destroyed my marriage and broke my kid’s heart, you—” Stupid, dumbass skank. My heart hammered, pushing the blood around my body so fast it made me dizzy. I was trying really hard to stand there in front of her, but it wasn’t working. I couldn’t get ahold of my emotions.

“No, Detective, your husband did that.”

“And so did you!” I was going to hit her. I committed to it, took a step forward, but Hank wrapped his hand around my arm and pulled me back. “You played a part, and you hold some responsibility, too,” I practically growled. “And one day someone is going to rip your heart out and hurt the ones you love.”

She pursed her lips. “Perhaps. But not today.”

“Excuse us for one second,” Hank said, escorting me down the steps and to the curb.

“Let me go,” I said through gritted teeth once we were on the sidewalk.

He released his grip, and I yanked my arm away, spinning back to the brightly lit mansion. But I didn’t move forward. I swallowed the huge lump of grief in my throat and blinked away angry tears.

“Charlie.” Hank’s hand landed on my shoulder, his fingers touching the mark beneath my shirt. Instantly dizziness clouded my vision as a warm wave of lust traveled through my body. His hand jerked back. And I knew he hadn’t meant to touch me there. “I’m sorry,” he said, pausing for a long moment as though he wanted to say more, but didn’t. Instead he said, “Stay here. I’ll go talk to her.”

I paced by the car as Hank and Nuallan’s conversation mixed with the sounds of the dinner party inside. Buckhead was a beautiful neighborhood, but all I could see as I looked at the manicured lawns and precisely trimmed hedges and trees was the future. A future where everything green had turned to dust and the darkness continued to roll overhead.

Finally Hank came down the steps, making long strides toward the car.

“What happened?”

“She’s coming. She just has to make excuses to her guests and get some things.”

“How the hell did you manage that?”

His nostrils flared slightly, and he couldn’t seem to make eye contact with me. The muscle in his jaw twitched. “I gave her my ring.”

“You what?”

I’d never seen Hank without his ring. Ever. Middle finger, left hand. A flat band carved of one entire, flawless piece of Idiron, a rare Elysian gemstone that reminded me of the deepest, darkest red amber. He’d showed it to me one time. I’d always thought it was a plain band, but the inside, where it rested against his skin, had been carved with small detailed script that signified its wearer and the wearer’s family. It had been in his family for thousands of years, he’d said.

“It’s just a ring, Charlie,” he said, shrugging it off.

“What’s she going to do with it? Pawn it to pay the electric bill?”

Hank didn’t answer. He was already ducking into the car.

Nuallan came out of the house with a large bag, her heels clicking down the steps and over the stone walk, breezing by me as if I were invisible, and got into the front seat. My seat.

Whatever.

The ride to the station was completely silent, allowing my thoughts to drift into those old hurtful memories, regrets, and ill wishes. After this was all over, and Aaron was back—because I had to think that way—I was going to step up my training. Having these powers inside of me was a total waste if I couldn’t use them at will like the off-worlders. And plus, being able to wield them meant being able to make people like Nuallan Gow pay on a level she could clearly understand and appreciate.

A glance at the console clock as we pulled into the station lot showed we had exactly one hour and forty minutes for Nuallan to perform whatever ritual needed to halt Aaron’s body from decomposing to the point of no return.

Station One was pretty quiet during the night, most officers out on patrol, and the ones who were there were busy dealing with the typical weekend stuff—drunks, prostitutes, spell-mongering … the usual.

My mark had stayed warm the entire time Hank had been in my presence, which I was starting to get used to. Oddly enough, it eased some of my tension—the mark possibly releasing some kind of magic feel-good hormone