The Darkest Edge of Dawn

aimed to fire again. A cloaked figure sped toward him. “Hank!” I yelled to warn him, but another stranger popped up in front of me and shoved a hard palm into my sternum.

Pain stole my breath as the force of the blow sent me backpedaling, weapons flying from my hands and clattering somewhere behind me. My attacker pressed the advantage, immediately engaging in hand-to-hand as the scent of tar tickled my nose and bright violet eyes glowed from within the blackness of the hood.

Jinn warrior. But tall and slim, not as bulky as the males. Female. Grigori’s personal guard, I’d bet my life on it. He and Llyran were obviously in this together; two beings with common causes. Llyran had the ring, Grigori had the star.

I was on the defensive so fast it was hard to keep up, hard to regroup, gain the upper hand. I blocked several moves in quick succession.

Duck. Punch. Block. Kick.

With every move, I took a step back. My heart rate was now insane, adrenaline masking each blunt hit and block. I didn’t have a chance to reach for my secondary weapons. I couldn’t take my focus off her for a split second. It was a dance, one I wouldn’t be able to keep up with for long. Act. React. Always thinking two or three steps ahead, a confrontation that kept me from even attempting to pull up my powers.

And then in my peripheral vision, I saw it.

A shaft of predawn light, breaking through a hole in the withdrawing darkness and bathing the terrace in a soft blue glow.

It was enough to distract both me and my opponent.

Llyran’s hands were still lifted skyward. Wind whipped around him as the darkness above him continued to part, spreading open in a wide circle to reveal a serene violet sky amid the sounds of fighting.

I sensed movement, but it was too late to block my attacker’s next blow. Still I put my hands up to block, catching a brief glimpse of my opponent’s open palm, head dipped as gray powder was blown into my face.

Honeysuckle blossomed in the air. I gasped, involuntarily.

Ash.

My hand flew to my mouth and nose, even though I’d already sucked it into my lungs. Immediately, the rapture began to run through my system. I raised my fist to take a swing, but my cloaked nemesis crouched low, swiped out a leg, and swept me off my feet. My skull cracked hard against the stone floor. Heat and pain exploded through the back of my head as I landed shoulders and head first. The pain didn’t last long, though, quickly replaced by the wondrous effects of ash as the faint traces of dawn spread out above me.

My eyelids fluttered, body completely overtaken by pure bliss, a feeling so intense and consuming that there was no way to fight it, no need to fight it. It was heaven, and I could stay like this forever, my body sinking, growing roots into the stone, being enveloped in a warm cocoon of light and pure weightlessness. No aches and pains. No body. Nothing.

I didn’t know how much time had passed, but the first fuzzy image to register in my mind was the massive hole in the darkness, revealing a sky streaked with purples, blues, grays, and just a hint of orange. No matter how hard I tried, my eyelids would only open halfway. The bliss was still there inside of me, but my mind had come out of the toughest fog—much like a drunkard who no longer had the capacity to stand, but could still slur and see and make attempts at trying to think rationally.

My chest rose with the deep breath I drew into my lungs as my head tipped to the side, seeing a blur in the distance. Fighting, though I couldn’t tell who. On the other side of me was the sarcophagus, ringed with candles, an altar table sitting to the side with a large alabaster jar and a massive tome spread open.

Why couldn’t I feel my limbs?

I blinked slowly, trying to find the right brain command to work the rest of my body, but all I could manage was sight, thought, and breathing.

Stay awake, I had to stay awake. This was important. And goddammit, where the hell were Hank and the others?

It took all my effort to tilt my chin up, to try and see through hooded eyes what lurked behind me. My searching gaze collided with the glowing green eyes of a predator. Orin’s name immediately sprung into my mind, but, hell, what did I know? I was high as a kite. He crouched low among the foliage near the door, only a few feet from the table. Open your fucking eyes, Charlie! I yelled at myself, my consciousness banging around in my head and growing furious and desperate and mean.

The image of the wolf’s face went from blurry to clear and back again. I blinked several times, urging my vision to stop being a fucking weakling and do what it was supposed to do. His image solidified. His gaze held mine for a second and then blended back into the darkness.

Sudden crazed laughter at the absurdity of it all bubbled inside, engaging my stomach muscles, forcing my torso up, and giving me the momentum I needed to turn to the side and push to a sitting position. Once upright, my gut executed an undulating roll and my vision went cloudy. It took several seconds of concentrating on not throwing up and regaining my center of balance before I could open my eyes again. This time they weren’t so heavy.

My reaction to ash was, at first, very human—an instantaneous, blissful coma. And the only thing that saved me from being like all the other human victims was the fact that I was not entirely human anymore. My Elysian and Charbydon genes filtered the effects slowly out of my system, the drug having only a temporary high-like effect on off-worlders.

And what the hell was that sound, a baying echo that seemed to flow through the maze of downtown skyscrapers and empty streets below?

My gaze shifted to the place I’d last seen my partner. He wasn’t there, but there was an object lying discarded by the corner. Hank’s weapon. Denial hit me hard. No, Hank was fine. He’d simply dropped his weapon just like I had.

“Ah, right on time.” Llyran sauntered up to me and grabbed me under the arm, yanking me up. My legs gave out, but he didn’t stop—just dragged me to the sarcophagus until it felt like my arm was going to rip from the shoulder socket.

He released me. I fell to my knees, just catching myself with my hands before toppling over and going forehead first into the back legs of one of the jinn warriors who, once again, stood before the sarcophagus.

“I’m going to kill you, you know,” I slurred, swaying slightly. “Both of you.”

Llyran joined his companions at the tomb, his back to me for a long while—which pissed me off because it was a great opportunity to kill the bastard. If only I could stand and think straight.

Llyran pivoted and knelt down, grabbing my hand and shoving a heavy, tarnished gold ring onto my middle finger. Solomon’s ring, no doubt. I laughed. It was too big and too wide. The center housed a large oval stone, black as pitch and polished to a mirror-like quality. Mesmerized, I blinked slowly as my hand dropped to my knee, seeing my own hazy reflection staring back at me in the stone. There were symbols carved around the stone. I squinted, swaying every time a breeze hit me. “Denasthr—” I managed to say, trying to read the script.

Llyran spun around. “Not yet, you idiot!”

Slowly I raised my heavy hand and flipped him the bird.

He slapped me hard; the force of his blow tipped me off balance and I fell to the side as searing pain shot over my face and rung in my ears.

“You are a waste of powers!” he shouted, jerking me upright, back into a sitting position. Then he grabbed my chin, fingers digging painfully into my skin and bringing tears to my eyes. “But you won’t be for long. The ash will cling to your spirit, suppressing it, taking away your will to fight.”

“To fight what? You?”

“No, you foolish woman. The king who is about to call your body home.”

21

“That’s what ash does to you humans.” Llyran squeezed my face harder. “Makes you a vessel, prepares your soul and your annoying will to step aside. No struggle. No fight for control. And since you’ve turned out to be a huge disappointment, we have to do it this way.”