Kelly Gay - The Better Part of Darkness

I didn’t enlighten him about the special relationship I’d had with my twin brother.

For so long I’d denied having or wanting any extra abilities beyond my own God-given human talents. But now, I couldn’t hide it. It was coming out of me whether I liked it or not. The lack of control freaked me out more than a little. I didn’t know when or where I’d lose it, and the last thing I wanted right now was to be hauled into ITF Headquarters for evaluation and specialized training.

“I know that look,” Hank interrupted my thoughts.

“What look?”

“The Queen of Denial look. It’s a little too late for that.”

“I wasn’t going to deny it,” I muttered. “I just don’t want it, whatever it is.”

“What’re you so afraid of? The average population would kill for any kind of psychic gift, much less the power to heal themselves.”

The rhythmic fall of water into the basin should have been calming. The cool spray of water should have doused the heat in my face. But it didn’t. What did he know anyway? “I’m not afraid.”

Since it was a lame denial, he didn’t bother with a reply, just dropped my hand, sat down on the ledge, rested his elbows on his knees, and pressed both palms against his tired eyes. “The chief might be able to get Sian some sort of dummy job and even pull strings at Deer Isle, but he isn’t going to authorize a raid on the Lion’s Den.”

“Tennin practically admitted it. Besides, you saw them making it.”

“You’re always so gung-ho, Charlie,” he said, flicking a glance my way. “We saw them making something . That’s not enough to go up against an entire tribe.”

“And you’re always so damn cavalier. If I wasn’t a walking sex pheromone, I probably could’ve snagged one of those flowers. Then the lab could’ve analyzed it, connected it to ash, and maybe we would’ve had something solid to take to the chief. And if I don’t arrest Tennin’s ass in two days, he’s going to come after mine.”

His shoulder slumped, and his hands grabbed both sides of his head. A short laugh, devoid of humor, escaped him. Then he straightened and looked at me with a wry smile. “Guess lobbing that spell vial wasn’t the best idea in the world.”

Yeah.

He stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see what the chief can do about Lamek Kraw and Sian. It might be better coming from me.” I rolled my eyes, but Hank had a point. He was way better at defusing the chief’s temper than me. I always seemed to make things worse. “You want me to walk you to Bryn’s, protect you from all your hard-up jinn fans?”

“Ha, ha.” It was only a few yards from the plaza. I could make it on my own. I shook my head. “No, go home and get some rest. We’ll meet with Mott later. I’m gonna wash this spell off of me, and see if Bryn knows anything about that flower we saw. I’ll call you later.”

People passed by in a blur as I stared at the healing wound on my palm. Hank was right—most people would kill to have this ability, and I wasn’t knocking it, but the weight of the unknown, of what this might mean, turned my stomach. I’d faced down ghouls and hellhounds without blinking an eye. I wasn’t afraid. My throat closed as the truth danced in front of my face. I hated Hank in that moment, hated to admit that he’d nailed it.

Big deal. So I was a little hesitant to admit there was something massively wrong inside me. Not hesitant, you idiot. You’re scared shitless and you know it.

My shoulders slumped.

I didn’t want to be reminded. Feeling the strength and power inside of me was too familiar. It reminded me too much of Connor, of how it felt when he spoke to me in his mind, of all the times from our toddler years to our teens. Until you cut him off . The zing, the tiny hum of energy was him all over again. And honestly, it hurt too damn much to tolerate. The fact that part of it was a darkness that seemed to gain ground inside of me every day made it even harder to accept. I was supposed to be the good guy.

With a defeated sigh, I rearranged my hair and straightened the sweater set as best I could, but there was no hiding or fixing the tears in Bryn’s clothes. My ankle still hurt, though not as badly as before, and the pumps made an uneven clicking sound on the pavement as I limped toward Mercy Street.

Hodgepodge was busy as usual.

Through the window I caught a glimpse of Emma behind the counter, helping to wrap an item for a customer. The undercover officer, a rookie I’d seen at the station numerous times though never actually met, sat on a stool near the pub next door. He was inconspicuous enough—looked like a bouncer. When he gave me the once-over and recognized me, he nodded. I did the same back and then entered the shop.

Making a beeline to the counter was a little difficult in the maze of shelves, boxes, statues, and customers. Emma and Bryn were too exposed here. After making an enemy of the CPP today and the threat of rogues and vigilantes, I had to get them out of harm’s way. And there was still the issue of Grigori Tennin and the second debt hanging over my head.

My fingers drummed against my thigh as I waited for the Wiccan in front of me to pay for her sage bundle. It gave me time to scan the store, looking for anything or anyone suspicious. Gizmo was on guard near the door, and I found myself warming up to the idea of Bryn’s security system. At least it was something . The Wiccan brushed by me. Emma turned away from the back counter just as I stepped forward. Her face brightened.

Immediately, I put my finger to my lips and hushed the outburst I saw coming. The last thing I wanted was for everyone in the store to know she was my kid.

Bryn came over, her anklets tinkling with each step. “What’s wrong?” Then she noticed the ruined outfit. “What the hell happened to my clothes?” She took one step back and waved the air. “It smells like you went for a swim in an algae pond.”

“It’s nothing,” I said, not wanting to alarm Emma. “I was just thinking you could close the store early today.”

“But—”

I turned my back toward the counter so Em couldn’t see my face and gave my sister a look that spoke volumes. “Please, Bryn, for once just listen and don’t argue.” I didn’t want to frighten Emma, but the urgency to get them both safe ticked against my nerves like a time bomb. There were customers at my back, and any one of them could be a threat.

“Is this about Amanda?” Emma leaned over the counter. “And those jinn?” My head whipped around, and she held up her hands in an innocent gesture. “What? It’s all over the Internet and the TV. And stop looking at me like that. I’m not a baby. I’m almost twelve, and that’s almost a teenager.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And I know you didn’t shoot those guys because you wanted to. It’s your job, Mom. I get it.”

I blinked, feeling as though I’d just been whacked over the head with a cast-iron frying pan. Emma was at the age where acting smart, cool, and nonchalant was priority number one. Teen prep, I called it. I shook my head, knowing she had to be concerned, scared, worried … And it’d take some coaxing to get her to admit it.

“God,” Bryn said, “she sounds just like you, Charlie.” She whistled to Gizmo. “Come on, I guess we’re closing up shop.”

“Good, then Mom can take a shower,” Emma muttered under her breath as she put the wrapping paper under the counter.

Gizmo flew toward us, skimming the shelves and skid-landing on the back counter right next to a cat carrier, which, I realized, held Spooky.

“Hank dropped her off earlier,” Bryn said, watching Gizmo approach the cat crate, his pug-like face outstretched and sniffing. Suddenly, a black paw shot through the bars and smacked his nose. He squeaked and scrambled back, his claws scratching the counter.