The Darkest Edge of Dawn

I swallowed and lifted my hand, poking him in the chest and slurring, “You’re a lunatic.”

His lips split into a sneer, and his arctic gaze narrowed, grabbing my hand and shoving the gold ring into my line of sight. “And once he is inside of you, he will use his knowledge to raise the star with this.” He dropped my hand. He leaned closer and whispered in my ear, lips brushing the skin. “Then I’m going to take her power for my own, and kill the both of you.” He cast his glance to the alabaster spirit jar on the altar table. “Say goodbye to your will and hello to Solomon. He’ll be pulling all your strings from now on.”

I shook my head as a blanket of sickness rolled through me. “But … that’s not …” No, it wasn’t supposed to be Solomon inside of that jar, it was supposed to be his servant, his demon, a jinn.

“Oh, yes,” Llyran continued with glee, “his soul is housed inside of that jar, but not for long. Not for long …”

Llyran turned back to the altar and began placing candles around the jar. His slap had woken me up, had stirred my anger and my power. Once it was engaged, it went to work, slowly destroying the effects of the ash. At least, the physical effects. If what Llyran said about ash suppressing my will and my soul was true, making me a willing vessel, I wasn’t sure if my off-world genes would fight that or not.

I stayed on my knees, eyes closed, letting them think I was still heavily under the influence. Solomon’s ring was on my finger. Aaron’s life force was inside of the stone.

I had what I needed. Now I just had to get free and get the ring to Pendaran.

Llyran returned to the sarcophagus and raised his arms, calling out loudly to the darkness. The breeze picked up as a shaft slithered down toward him, wrapping itself around the tomb. An energetic tingle vibrated beneath my skin.

Slowly, the lid began to slide off until it fell onto the other side of the tomb, with a thud that vibrated the stones beneath me.

The darkness receded. Llyran and his companion leaned over to gaze inside of the sarcophagus. “Incredible,” he breathed.

As soon as the lid was off, the atmosphere changed as though the entire rooftop had just become one gigantic lightning conductor and there was an electrical storm brewing. The hum already inside of me from the darkness amplified until my teeth were vibrating. The agate no longer suppressed the power signature in that tomb. It was out. And, holy hell, it was so strong and low and pulsating that my eardrums rang.

Voices poured into my mind. Faint. Confusing. A clatter of noise and broken words. I shook my head. It didn’t help. I tried to block it, imagining the usual heavy curtain coming down, but the voices were already inside, the ash, maybe, making me weak or susceptible. Whatever the reason, they were desperate, scared, and angry. It was as though I’d gotten a firsthand listen into the depths of hell and human suffering.

I grabbed both sides of my head and bent over.

Charlie!

My name. Familiar. Inside of my own screwed-up mind. Aaron’s voice called to me, and I knew I must be losing it. Then a strong female voice. No language I could understand, but welcome and soothing, not at all horrifying like the others. I latched onto that tone, bringing it to the forefront of my mind and shoving all the others back.

Llyran and the hooded figure finally turned from their ogling of the tomb’s contents. The smug look on the Adonai’s face went completely blank, slowly turning pale. His lips thinned and his irises bled to black. “The Old Lore!”

I followed his murderous gaze to see that the tome was gone. Orin, I thought. It had to be. He’d been so near before … That tome was the Old Lore? Now it made sense. Hank had said that Llyran stole something big from the Hall of Records. This had to be it. No wonder the Elysian Council had attempted to execute Llyran. No wonder they never revealed what he’d taken from the Hall of Records.

It was their most prized possession. How could they admit they’d lost it?

I laughed. It started small, but grew. “What? Did you need that?”

“What did you do?!” He backhanded me hard, my hair whipping across my face as I flew to the side with a grunt. Slowly, I righted myself, my expression conveying my humor but also my extreme hate. “Fuck. You.”

“Go find it.” The hooded figure nodded at Llyran’s command and blurred down the terrace, the ends of the cloak flying out and making it look like she floated over the ground.

Good. That left me and Llyran.

He had a brief look on his face, like he wasn’t sure now how to proceed. I used that to my advantage and punched him in the groin since it was pretty much eye-level with me. He doubled over, cursing as I jumped to my feet, still a little wobbly, and then gave him a hard right uppercut to the jaw. He flew backward, and I turned and bolted for the terrace railing where I flung the ring over the edge as hard as I could.

I glanced over my shoulder, as Llyran pushed to his feet, feeling a rush of victory. He hadn’t seen me toss the ring. This might actually work. Energized, I went for Hank’s discarded gun, swiped it up, and ran like hell into the arboretum, luring Llyran away from the terrace.

The foliage was so thick I couldn’t see beyond my own path or what might lie on either side of me beyond the plants and trees. It was truly a labyrinth, a dark, humid place perfect to evade and hide.

A booming crack made me slide to a stop. Like the breaking of an Arctic ice shelf, several cracks resonated through the arboretum, so sharp and deep I felt it in my chest as they grew, splitting until finally the glass dome shattered, a thousand pieces hurtling toward the stone floor and slicing anything in their path.

I dove into a wide swath of plants, crawling on my hands and knees in the soft, wet dirt as small pieces of glass sliced my shoulders, legs, and stuck into my back and scalp. I burned all over. There! A banana tree. I lurched beneath it, cradling myself beneath its leaning trunk and waiting, calming my pulse, and directing the adrenaline and energy into shielding myself and pulling that heavy curtain down, imagining myself sinking into the soft soil and becoming nothing but a plant with a faint signature of life.

The side of my face ached. Dozens of small cuts stung and bled. The smell of leaves and soil held a whiff of honeysuckle, but I knew that was me. Ash had a purpose that went far beyond simple narcotics trade. My new genes may have protected me from becoming a coma victim, but Llyran seemed to think that it still had the ability to suppress my will and soul completely. I hoped to hell he wasn’t right. This nasty shit needed to get out of my system pronto.

“Charlie!” Llyran called in a casual tone. “There is nowhere to hide, you know. You come out and finish the ritual, and I’ll remove the darkness from the city. I’ll walk you through it. We don’t need the Old Lore. You and I can raise the star. She’ll give us whatever we want. You will be a queen. How can you refuse such a thing?”

He was close. I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my head in my arms, concentrating on my curtain. I heard the shuffle of his feet amid the wind that now blew through the exposed foliage before he spoke again. “The Sons of Dawn are far greater than you or this city. The only way to get what you want is to give us what we want.”

I wanted to laugh at that. Yeah, and he was just masquerading as a member, using the cult, using their relics and information to get what he wanted. He wasn’t going to raise the star to worship it; he was going to raise it to kill it, to suck out her life force in hopes of becoming untouchable.

“You know, Charlie, we tested the ash theory. Mynogan brought its properties to our attention. Did you know he was a Sons of Dawn member? Thanks to you and your little trip into Mynogan’s mind when you killed him, I was able to find the spirit jar that he’d hidden.”

My stomach dropped, but not from his revelation about Mynogan and the spirit jar, but from the ash theory. I knew where he was going with this, and I tried to stay calm even though I knew the words were coming, even though I knew he was taunting me, trying to get me to respond. “The ash victims were test subjects. The survivors are all excellent vessels. In fact, several of them have already proven the theory true.”

I kept my head down and willed myself to breathe even though thoughts of Bryn seeped through my control and filled me with the most unimaginable dread. His footsteps passed, and I let my breath out slowly. If I tried to summon my power, he’d know. I had to be still.

“A disembodied soul, a trapped one, like Solomon’s, is weak, you see. It does not have the power that a Revenant or a Wraith has. It can’t fight, can’t win control unless control is given. That’s what ash does. That’s what ash has done to your