Kelly Gay - The Darkest Edge of Dawn

Run. Just run. Don’t think, just run.

Forty-five minutes later, I returned to the house sweaty and spent.

Muffled voices came from the living room. A quick glance as I passed showed Emma and Rex practicing her lines for the school play. There were four lines, but Rex was determined to make Emma the best Cobweb in A Midsummer Night’s Dream that Hope Ridge School for Girls had ever seen. I left them alone, swiped a piece of garlic bread from the baking sheet atop the stove, shoved it in my mouth, jogged up the steps, and then went through the motions of stripping down while devouring the bread.

As I stepped into the shower, my stomach twisted irritably, wanting more food. From the looks of the kitchen, Rex and Emma had already eaten, but there were probably plenty of leftovers in the oven, since Rex had been making extra lately to accommodate my ravenous appetite.

I turned up the heat, letting the hot water work its magic on my muscles and stress level, and leaving myself wide open for the guilt to worm its way in. I gave Rex a lot of hell, more than he deserved. It was just hard to pull my emotions out of the equation when everything he did and said was being done by Will’s body.

I scrubbed my face with the washcloth, deciding to hurry because the heat was starting to turn my hungry stomach into a nauseated one.

I washed and conditioned my hair, rinsing and then quickly shaving my legs, spurred on by the thought of dinner. When the voice spoke beyond the curtain, it scared the shit out of me and made me jump.

“I hear you found a few bodies today, Charlie. Any leads. Any … theories ?”

I stilled, the razor on my calf, the ball of my foot resting against the corner of the tub and hot water beating down on my back. Jesus Christ. I knew that voice.

A serial killer was in my bathroom.

Dear God. Emma! A jolt of adrenaline-fueled fear shot through my body. Pulse, blood pressure, muscles … Everything readied as I prepared to run for my kid and get her into her bedroom, the only room in the house with additional wards, ones made in blood—that of myself, Magnus mage, Aaron, my earth mage sister, Bryn, and two of the powerhouse Elders at the League of Mages. The amount of blood it had taken made it the equivalent of a Fort Knox panic room. It was the first thing I’d done after getting home from the hospital two months ago.

“Relax, Detective. This is just between you and me. And for the record,” Llyran said in a conversational tone steeped in haughtiness, “killing children holds little to no value. It’s a question of payoff. The effort expended is more than the return. And killing that Revenant in your living room is a waste of my time. He’ll just flit away and find someone else’s life to ruin. Might want to work on your aura, though.”

Relief flowed through my veins, so strong I nearly dropped to my knees, not caring that he had read my strong emotions; they’d been too swift for me to block anyway.

Calm down, Charlie. Focus on Em.

One of my most frequent lessons with Aaron had been learning how to forge a link with my child, a way to connect with her emotions, to feel her presence and state of mind. And after her kidnapping by Mynogan and his thugs, there was no way I ever wanted to feel that helpless again, to not know if she was okay. I wasn’t as calm or as focused as I should be, but this was one thing I’d semi-perfected. I closed my eyes and summoned the link, that joyful, unbreakable bond with my child. It wasn’t as strong as usual, but when the emotions poured in—humor, determination, nervousness—I knew she was still practicing her lines downstairs. Neither she nor Rex had any idea Llyran was here, in my bathroom.

Envisioning a slamming door, I severed the link, releasing a controlled breath and returning my attention back to Llyran. He was telling the truth about not harming my family. Was he also telling the truth about the rest of his statement, that he only killed for reason and motive? He knew about the warehouse murders. Was he the killer, an accomplice, or was he just taking credit?

“What do you want, Llyran?”

I was completely bare. No weapons. No way out. My grip on the razor tightened. His outline moved beyond the white shower curtain, pacing from one end of the floor to the other.

Llyran ignored the question as though I hadn’t uttered a word. “I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here in your bathroom.”

“That, and how the hell you got into my house.” My mind scrambled for a plan, any plan, but I didn’t have much to work with, unless stabbing him with the blunt edge of a Wonder Smooth Vibrating Razor was a plan.

“Oh, that part was easy, Charlie. I can mask myself … make myself into an undetectable wisp of air. You can’t see me, smell me, sense me … until it’s too late.” His outline stopped at the sink, his height, slumping somewhat, giving me the impression that he was leaning back on the countertop.

“So you broke into my house just to tell me that?” I reached for the bar of soap with my other hand. If he came for me, it was going right into his eye. Might give me a chance to make it to the bedroom and the night table drawer where I kept an extra set of weapons.

Small clinks and movement echoed above the shower spray. The faint scent of my perfume reached my nose, and I knew the creepy bastard was going through my things, examining my toiletries, picking them up, setting them back down. “Nice,” he muttered. “You see, the thing is, Charlie, you and I are a lot alike. Unique. Determined. Powerful. We both kill for reasons we believe in.”

“I’m not a murdering sonofabitch.”

“Necessary evils,” he said simply. Another glass bottle clinked onto the marble countertop. “I came to make you an offer, Detective …”

My fists tightened around my so-called weapons. The soap shot from my grip and hit the shower wall with a loud bang. Shit.

Okay, calm down.

He was here. The shock was over. My weapons were stupid, and I had to concentrate. I closed my eyes and began to focus, to seek out the Elysian part of me that I was just learning how to use.

“Let me inside of your mind, and I’ll stop playing badly with others.”

I swiped away water from my face, my focus momentarily interrupted. “What?”

“It’s simple. I can’t promise it won’t hurt, but you give me access to that pretty little head of yours, and if I find what I need, I’ll leave the city.”

His words made me cringe. Llyran was not getting anywhere near my brain. “Stop killing? Just like that?”

The shower had turned lukewarm, but I’d started to shake as though it was freezing, taking a small step back so the spray hit below my thighs, totally baffled that Llyran had invaded my home to make me a deal. A freaking deal. I almost laughed. History proved I sucked at making deals.

I rubbed a hand down my face and tried to focus again while keeping him talking. “Why don’t you just take what you want?”

“It’s just easier this way.”

Focus, Charlie. Focus on the light. You know it’s there. It’s there in your blood, in every part of you, just waiting for you to say the word.

The small drops of water that bounced off my skin began to hover. I no longer felt chilled because the warm vibration of power began to hum through me, growing, strengthening, becoming attuned to my thoughts and my wishes. If I could keep him here long enough to gather my strength, I had a shot at ending his playtime for good.

“Well?” he asked.

“You know what I think, Llyran? I think you’re a schizophrenic sicko with a massive ego problem. I’m surprised you even got into my house with a head as big as yours.”