Kelly Gay - The Better Part of Darkness

“Gee, thanks.”

If a tribe member was injured or killed and the offender couldn’t reimburse the tribe with what Grigori Tennin decided was a fair trade or price, a blood debt was issued. So far, the ITF had been unable to find any evidence of foul play other than word on the street and missing persons reports. We did the best we could, but it was impossible to pin a crime on anyone when there was no evidence, despite the fact that we all knew the jinn still kept to their warlike ways, and each tribe was territorial and unforgiving.

Atlanta’s jinn population answered to Grigori Tennin, and it had been that way since the tribe was established here. Most big cities had several tribes, but Atlanta had one. One that was absolute. No jinn made Atlanta home without Tennin’s approval.

Like I didn’t have enough to deal with already. Now I had to worry about being pulled off the street in order to answer to Grigori, not to mention retribution from the rogues, vigilantes, and sympathizers out there, no doubt whipped into a frenzy after all the media attention.

The chief’s big hand squeezed my shoulder. “I know,” he said quietly. “Like I said, lay low. Stay away from the house and let me handle the CPP. You did nothing wrong, Charlie. I know that. The department knows that.” He grabbed my hand and curled my fingers over a set of car keys. “Go to my house and take my nephew’s car. It’s the red one. He’s doing a semester in South Africa right now. You leave your car. I’ll drive it to the station tomorrow. Make sure no one follows you. And for God’s sake, stay away from the hospital and Amanda Mott. And you might as well stay away from Hank, too. Tennin will probably have someone on him.”

I nodded, squeezing the keys until they bit into my palm. My voice caught. “Thanks, Chief.”

“Just don’t attract any angry jinn and that’ll be thanks enough.”

He hunched his wide shoulders and walked down the sidewalk away from my house and away from the direction of my car. I headed the other way, making sure to keep my steps slow and unhurried. My heart pounded. All I could think was that someone had seen me, and was following. I had to get to the car and get to Bryn’s as soon as possible.

In the chief’s driveway, I slipped inside the sporty red Mustang GT, turned the ignition, leaving the lights off, and backed out into the street, hoping I hadn’t woken his wife, Anne-Marie. I shoved the car in gear and headed for Underground.

The parking on Alabama Street had thinned out, allowing me to find a spot near the entrance to Underground. The bars and clubs closed at 4A.M. If my luck held, the only people passing by would be inebriated stragglers and tired waitstaff. Too tired or drunk to notice me or care.

Hopefully, no one would think to look for me here, a few stores up from the scene of the crime. Bad thing was I’d probably be more recognized down here by the off-worlders than in the ’burbs. But I didn’t know where else to go. It was late. I couldn’t think straight and had to find a safe place to rest and regroup.

And I desperately needed to see Emma. Just to kiss her while she slept, tuck the covers more securely around her, and watch her for a few minutes. She could center me. Just looking at her reminded me of my priorities, my strength, my purpose.

Underground at this time of night was eerily quiet—a time when your footsteps echoed louder than normal and shadows grew at every turn. I walked at a fast clip across the dimly lit promenade and then down Mercy Street. A few waitresses passed by, but they were in too much of a hurry to get home to notice me. There was a police officer, waiting for the manager to lock the pub across the street and take his money to the bank. Another group headed down my side of the street, but I’d already come to Bryn’s door, next to the shop, and was able to turn my back to them as I pressed the buzzer.

I had to press four times before she finally answered. She never answered before that because jerks and drunks were known to walk by and randomly press buzzers.

“Who is it?” she asked in sleepy stereo.

“It’s Charlie.” I glanced over my shoulder, making sure no one watched. The door buzzed. I turned the knob and pushed.

Bryn’s entrance was just a stairwell to a second-floor landing and another door, which led into her apartment over the shop. The door opened before I reached the landing. Bryn stood in the doorway, hands shoved into a cotton waffle-weave robe. Sleep had tangled her loose hair and swollen the delicate skin around her eyes, making her look young and vulnerable. Like my kid sister.

“What’s wrong?” She moved aside to let me in.

A small lamp in the living room was on. It was quiet here, too. The shades were drawn, but warmth still surrounded this place, like always. I slid off my jacket and began removing my firearms, setting them on the table in the foyer. Bryn moved into the adjoining kitchen and began making a pot of decaf, yawning as she filled the carafe with water.

I slid onto one of the kitchen counter stools. “How’s Em?”

“Good. She did her homework with Will and then we went to visit Amanda at the hospital. I hope that was okay. I know you don’t want Em to worry, but I think it made her feel better to go.” I gave a nod of agreement, wishing I could’ve gone too. “We ate dinner, Em took a shower. Everything’s fine. She’s fine.” Bryn hit the brew button and then turned toward me. “You on the other hand … What happened?”

I let my arms slide over the cool surface of the countertop, wanting nothing more than to lay my head down and drift off to sleep. “The CPP is calling for my arrest after what happened this morning. They’re picketing my house. I can’t go home right now.” I didn’t mention the jinn debt. Bryn knew the score. I let my head fall onto my arm. “I just want this all to be over with.”

Thankfully, she didn’t mention the debt. Instead she went to the fridge and pulled out some cheddar cheese and jalapenos, and then a bag of tortilla chips from the pantry. Comfort food. She spread the chips on a plate. “Do you think Emma is safe? Should she go to school tomorrow?” She sprinkled a generous portion of cheese onto the chips and then added the sliced jalapenos.

“Yeah, security is tight at the school. But I’ll have an officer go over in the morning to keep an eye out. You want an escort?”

She lifted her chin and fixed me with a frank look. “I know it’s hard to fathom, but I can take care of us.” At that, she put the plate into the microwave. Once it was melting the cheese, she turned back to the fridge and got out salsa and sour cream. Her face was stern as she grabbed two small bowls.

“What about you, Charlie? What about earlier? You killed three jinn and then healed yourself. How long do you think you can keep ignoring what’s going on?” She stood in front of the counter, both hands braced in front of her.

I raised my head and straightened my spine. I was too tired to deal with this right now. “Bryn—”

“No, don’t,” she said. “Don’t ‘Bryn’ me, okay? You almost died today. Again . I’m sick of you being like this, Charlie! I’m your sister. And I’m sure as hell not stupid enough to believe whatever excuse you’re about to throw at me. What? You can handle it? You can figure it out … alone?” Her voice rose, but tempered enough not to wake Emma. The microwave beeped, but she ignored it. “Stop being an idiot. Stop acting like you have no one, that no one is good enough or has the ability to help you. Get off your goddamn high horse, for once.”

The microwave beeped again. I stared wide-eyed, stunned by her outburst.

High horse?

My ego wasn’t that big to think no one could help me. Was it? Was that what she really thought? Was that what everyone else thought, too?