Chapter Forty-one

Morrisey’s heart pounded hard with each step Asher took in his direction. He’d never met the vice president and now probably never would. “Asher,” he said. Morrisey might be “Darkness”, but Asher’s actions made his own soul so much darker. Coiling malice stirred in his aura.

“Ah, brother. Good of you… to join us.” Asher’s gloating tone grated on Morrisey’s last nerve, not being one to suffer arrogant assholes lightly. Or at all.

“I’m not joining you. I’d rather die first.” Die, be banished, whatever. How could Morrisey die these days? The elder hadn’t been clear on matters of dying.

“I sensed your stubbornness,” Asher snapped, “and that could be arranged. But only as a last resort.”

Oh, how telling. Also telling how Asher finally commandeered a body when he found an attractive, rich, and powerful one.

“You can’t kill me. Not yet, anyway. I’m still a part of your plan.” Morrisey didn’t need an answer. Deep in his soul, he knew he wouldn’t still be alive unless Asher wanted him alive. He threw out a line of bullshit he hoped proved at least partially true. “The others waiting in the conference room aren’t willing to follow you. You promised them a Princeps.”

Asher kept the rage off his face—barely. “Shut up!”

Ah, a direct hit. “You know you’ll not get away with hijacking the vice president.” What happened to the human spirit whose body Asher stole? Morrisey swept out his senses but found only Asher. So he’d stolen the body and killed the owner and somehow shielded his followers from Morrisey’s senses. A crime punishable by death or banishment in either world. “How’d you manage, anyway?”

Asher gave a shark smile, skin crinkling at the corner of his host’s eyes. “Politicians make things so easy. Fundraisers are excellent opportunities to… meet. Promise someone enough money and they can’t bend over far enough for you.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t go for the president.”

“He’s old, and his poll numbers are falling. He’ll never survive the next election. Even if he does, he’d only get four more years. The vice president is much more popular, and eight years gives me plenty of time to put my plans into motion.”

Morrisey had believed in little in his lifetime. Right now, however, he fully believed he’d kill this motherfucker or die trying. “Like hell, you will.”

Asher snorted. How strange to see Asher’s arrogant mannerisms on the face of a man who’d been nothing but charismatic on TV.

“I’m sure you didn’t have Sykes bring us here to stand around chatting. Get on with it,” Morrisey growled, patience at an end. Asher wouldn’t kill them now. No, he needed to gloat, toy with them, and then possibly offer their fear to his followers as a gift.

Asher stepped back, allowing the gun-toting travelers to step forward. “I’ll await you in the conference room.” Though he’d dressed casually in dark slacks and a red polo shirt, he might as well have swirled a cape with his dramatic exit.

But, Morrisey wondered, if these travelers had any level of talent, why guns? Hadn’t they learned how to use magic or whatever the hell it was? When, not if, Morrisey got out of this mess, he’d practice until no one got the jump on him again.

Farren stood beside Morrisey, eyes flashing and jaws set. Jessa nibbled her lower lip, trying to hide her trembling. She’d betrayed Asher. He’d make an example of her—or he could try.

“How are you holding up?” Morrisey asked her.

“He’s stretched too thin at the moment to manipulate me.”

Morrisey wouldn’t mention how much energy he put into shielding her.

Colm added an unknown element, though Farren insisted on bringing him. If Farren trusted him and found him useful, then he was good enough for Morrisey.

The travelers patted him down as they took his weapons. See you later, darling, he told the latest Agnes.

A gun muzzle nudging his back, Morrisey stepped forward to whatever awaited. He could lash out. Hell, he could have Farren do the bright light from the hand thingy, but no. Best to see what Asher planned and who he involved. They couldn’t risk costing innocent lives.

Morrisey felt human auras the closer he came to the conference room. Roughly thirty people, humans and travelers, sat around the conference table, with more standing around the walls. Morrisey didn’t know many of the travelers, but the humans…

Leary sat next to Asher. Nearly every human member of FAET stood behind them.

Fuck. So much for hoping for the cavalry to arrive. The Princeps spirit in Morrisey bristled at the sight of Asher sitting at the head of the table. .

The chair jolted, and Asher’s eyes went wide as it unceremoniously dumped him out of the seat and he disappeared under the table. Morrisey didn’t know why, but he marched with purpose to the head of the table, yanked out the chair, and sat. He glared down at Asher, fighting back the panic.

What the hell just happened? Had Morrisey done that with just a thought? And not really a fully formed thought. He hadn’t wanted Asher out of the chair, just mused about how he didn’t belong there. Whatever. Morrisey donned his haughtiest expression. “Thank you for warming my seat.”

A touch of fear flitted across Asher’s features but was gone in an instant. He rose from the floor. “As I’ve told you, my brother…”

Once more, unseen forces drove Morrisey. “You are not Princeps. You can’t be my brother.” Wasn’t that what Asher really wanted? Status? To be better than everyone else. Morrisey frantically waved Farren over. “What’s happening? I can’t control it.”

Farren patted his shoulder. “Asher thought leadership was all about power and control. It’s not. Just like I was born to uphold the law, you were born to lead. A Princeps cannot consciously harm any innocent people they serve and will use every fiber of their being to protect them.” He gave a tremulous smile. “You are fulfilling your destiny.”

Asher climbed out from under the table and shoved Morrisey’s chair—hard. It never moved. Still, he fumed, “Don’t forget who brought you here. Anything you are is because of me!” He didn’t make a move, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.

Morrisey lifted his chin a stubborn fraction. “No. I am what I am despite you.”

Mutterings began in the ranks. Morrisey swept his gaze over those assembled. Here and there were those who didn’t really buy into Asher’s vision. Some were merely curious or led by peer pressure. Some actively hoped to defy Asher.

Those Morrisey could work with. “Asher has brought you here with promises of riches, power, and glory. He means his riches, power, and glory. Once you’ve served your purpose, he’ll drain you without thinking twice.” Morrisey focused on Leary and the other humans. “He refers to humans as cattle. You want to throw your lot in with someone who sees you as food?”

Morrisey directed his words to Leary. “You’re selling out your own people for what? Asher? He’s murdered the vice president. Do you think you’re more important?”

“I’m saving humanity! While Asher leads the travelers, I’ll lead the humans. Together, we’ll build a world we can both live in.” Deep down, Leary believed he’d get the better of Asher.

“Dream on.” Morrisey shook his head. Some people never learned.

Leary wanted to defeat Asher and send all travelers back to their own realm—an extinct realm. He didn’t care. As long as they weren’t here. He merely pretended to help Asher start a war to subjugate humans. What strange thinking.

Also strange for Morrisey to so easily see Leary”s plans. Then again, he wasn’t exactly subtle.

Most of the sycophants either blindly followed Asher, hoping to gain wealth and power, or thought themselves superior. They doomed themselves to failure.

“What Asher promises, he can no longer or simply won’t give. Just like he promised you a Princeps and all their powers.” Morrisey shook his head. “I’ll never use any abilities for him or for you. I’m here for anyone who just wants to get along with others and play nice. Those who want nothing more than to live their lives. I don’t need or want power.”

“Because you already have it!” Colm shouted from the back of the room. “You can control these lesser beings with a mere thought.”

Morrisey turned his head, taking in the scholar. Only then did he notice Jessa’s increased trembling. Slowly she raised the hand holding the taser, wild desperation in her eyes.

Smug satisfaction shone from Asher’s face. So. He still controlled her. Morrisey rose, slowly walking toward Jessa.

“Please. Don’t come any closer,” she pleaded. “He’s making me do this. I can’t stop him.”

“Okay, Jessa. I know it’s not your will. But you can’t hurt me. Not anymore.”

With a strangled cry, Jessa discharged the taser. Nothing happened.

The smile fell from Asher’s face. “You can’t. I mean…”

“I can and I did.” Blackness washed over Morrisey’s vision. Tiny electrical charges danced over his skin. Pressure grew within. Raw power flooded his mind, filling his body. Choking him. His muscles screamed. Oh, shit! His body seemed ready to rip apart. “Farren!” he gasped.

Asher shrieked, “His power is too great! Kill him!” He charged. So did those in attendance, all but the ones Morrisey marked as holding good intentions.

Leary took a wild swing. Farren blocked.

Morrisey doubled over, clinging tight to the ever-expanding power within him. No telling what might happen if he lost his grip, but it wouldn’t be pretty. He barely heard the battle going on around him—the gunshots, the screams. The scent of blood filled the air. A wounded traveler attacked a human ally, desperate to steal an uninjured body.

This was Asher’s grand vision. No loyalty. No rules. Chaos.

Morrisey sought Asher, finding him in a corner, arms thrown wide to accept every bit of the anger and hate permeating the room. Was he waiting for Morrisey’s inevitable explosion?

The pressure continually built. Morrisey gritted his teeth. “Farren! I can’t hold it anymore!”

“Let go!” Colm called from his place in front of Morrisey—protecting him from the approaching horde.

Morrisey flung his arms wide, releasing the power he could no longer contain. The room ignited with a grayish light, bolts of lightning zigzagging through the air. More people screamed. He should protect them, not cause harm, but the power wouldn’t stop.

Darkness. Tenebris. No wonder Domus feared them.

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind. Farren urged, “Let me in.”

Unlike the occisor all those weeks ago, this time Morrisey complied. Light and warmth filled his mind, tempering the flow of energy, shaving the rough edges off Morrisey’s vengeance.

He found himself in a bubble of bright light and a feeling like coming home.

The Tenebris alone couldn’t bring balance. What balances darkness?

Light.