Chapter Forty-two

Leary charged, catching Farren in a flying tackle. Down they both went. The connection with Morrisey snapped. No!

The wind rushed out of Farren. “Oomph!” He had to get back to Morrisey. Without an outlet, dark energy would soon explode outward, possibly killing many.

Leary latched his hands around Farren’s throat. “For years, I’ve put up with your bullshit, hearing about how you saved my life. How I should be proud to have you on my team. No one will let me forget I owe my position to you, you fucking asshole.”

What? Farren gripped Leary’s hands, keeping them from crushing his windpipe. He could easily pulverize the bones beneath his fingers or toss Leary halfway across the room. While he’d never actively tried to banish a human, no one said he couldn’t.

Damn it! They’d been friends once. What changed? Or maybe they’d never been friends after all.

Farren shoved Leary’s shoulders—hard. He’d no desire to cause permanent damage, but a dislocated shoulder would be the least of Leary’s worries if they didn’t get Morrisey locked down.

Leary held on tight, teeth clenched.

Farren tried reasoning. “If I don’t get to Morrisey, bad things will happen.”

Leary’s grin turned feral. “You think I don’t know? What better way to start this war than to have a traveler commit mass murder?”

Mass murder. Was this the purpose Asher wanted Morrisey for? Was he to be a pawn? “And you think Asher will protect you? Wrong!”

Morrisey was too damned powerful to be a pawn. With a mighty heave, Farren flung Leary off. His right hook sent Leary collapsing to the floor where he lay still. Farren would deal with him later. He’d no sooner gotten to his feet when another man rushed him.

Instead of attacking, the man grabbed his arm. “Come. We must get to safety.”

“No! I can’t leave Morrisey.” Nothing about this man said he’d bought into Asher’s plan. His aura remained clear.

The stranger shook his head. “It’s too late. We cannot stop destiny.”

Farren wrenched his arm free. “I can’t… I won’t leave him. There are others here who don’t have a clue what they’ve gotten themselves into. Get them out.”

The stranger locked gazes with Farren, then disappeared into the fray. Travelers fought humans. Humans fought travelers. Travelers fought travelers. Humans fought humans. How could anyone tell a friend from a foe?

Like a shining dark beacon, Morrisey summoned Farren. Farren decked a grinning occisor, dodged a traveler’s kick, and ducked when someone threw a chair. Shots rang out. Smoke burned his nose. Cries of pain and anger circled around him.

In his mind’s eye, a shining portal formed without Farren’s bidding, waiting to receive the souls of the banished. Normally, he conjured the portal. This time, it appeared of its own accord.

Which didn’t bode well for the assembled.

A traveler kneeled over a stunned human, gripping their head with both hands. Blood soaked the traveler’s shirt. The humans realized who they’d thrown their lot in with.

Farren paused, but he’d never get there in time to help this one man—a corrupt one. Had he been a traveler, Farren would have sentenced him to banishment. But no, he couldn’t stop to save one human when many more lives hung in the balance.

Where was Morrisey?

Sykes faced off against Jessa, gun aimed her way as she serenely approached, a smile spreading over her face with each calculating step. Sweat beaded Sykes’s forehead. His hand shook. Still, Jessa advanced, all cool confidence and a beguiling smile. Even in her human form, Farren swore he saw her dark wings.

Sykes never stood a chance. Jessa crowded into him, taking his cheeks between her palms. She kissed him long, hard, and deep. A shot rang out. Jessa calmly stepped back. Sykes slumped to the floor. Jessa looked over her shoulder at Farren. “I can’t stomach traitors.” She disappeared into the crowd.

Sykes lay dead on the floor, gun still in hand. Fuck! Had Jessa enticed Sykes to shoot himself? The traveler within Sykes broke free.

Leary lunged before Farren could send Sykes’s spirit into the portal.

Colm cut him off. “Going somewhere, asshole?” he hit Leary with a a folded metal chair.

Leary staggered and fell back. Farren persisted onward. Morrisey? Morrisey!

The link they’d been blocking suddenly clicked into place. Power surged through Farren, and he took the excess, relieving Morrisey of the burden.

Gratitude washed over Farren. A traveler approached, the one who’d just robbed a man of his body. Farren flung his arms wide, opening the part of himself containing access to the portal.

“No!” the traveler screamed.

“For your crimes, I sentence you to oblivion,” Farren intoned. A rush like wind ruffled his hair, tugging at his clothing. Then, the body fell to the ground. Darkness surrounded Farren, and not the darkness of Morrisey’s spirit, but the purification of souls tainted by greed and malice.

Farren turned, seeing the sins of another traveler clear as day. She’d stolen four bodies in her time, killed for money, power, greed, and reeked of arrogance.

She screamed like any other as the portal claimed her.

Judge, jury, executioner. And Farren was vengeance.

He banished five more travelers before spotting Morrisey. A sigh of relief swept through him—a moment before panic hit.

Morrisey faced Asher. Seething darkness swirled around Asher like oily water. Sickly, unnatural.

The darkness surrounding Morrisey appeared more of a comforting, shielding blanket. Unlike Asher’s aura, Morrisey’s darkness moved with him, a part of him.

Farren”s fear vanished. His light reached for Morrisey. Warmth enveloped him, his counterpart acknowledging his presence. They were now two halves of a whole. Together, they created balance.

Asher’s malevolent energy struck an unsuspecting human, flinging the woman like a rag doll into Morrisey’s path. Morrisey curtailed a blast at the last moment. Sparing the woman.

With a snarl, Asher lashed out again, his hatred alone slashing bloody gouges across the woman’s face and neck. She fell with a gurgling cry, blood oozing from her mouth.

Energy. They used energy as a weapon.

Farren would have felt pity if the woman hadn’t aligned herself with the very madman who’d killed her for no reason except her availability.

Morrisey’s consciousness stroked against Farren’s like one of Colm’s cats might rub against a leg. They no longer needed to be in proximity to be close. One day soon, Farren would test the bounds of their newfound connection.

For now, he stood to the side, watching as Asher made a slashing motion with his hand. Farren felt the power roil from the gesture. Energy, like a static charge, sailed toward Morrisey—and smacked into an invisible wall.

Morrisey stood in the center of the room, not attacking, merely deflecting every blow, whether from Asher or one of his followers. A mere flick of Morrisey’s wrist ricocheted a bullet back to the one who fired. The shooter screamed and fell, grasping a bloody shoulder.

“Farren! Look out!” The yell might have come from Colm.

Farren whirled in time to block Leary’s blow. “Die, motherfucker!” Leary screeched, extending his gun in a two-handed grip.

Before Farren could take aim, Asher shouted, “Kill Morrisey!”

Fuck. Those still standing rushed Morrisey. Farren bunched his muscles, ready to block Morrisey with his body. The portal in his brain yawned wide. He focused on Asher, but Asher’s power proved too great at the moment. Farren settled for the traveler currently taking aim at Morrisey.

He extended his hand, sending out white light.

The woman screeched, eyes going wide. Farren opened himself up, clearly seeing the evil this woman had wrought, then committed her to banishment.

Next came an occisor, then another. Farren stripped the souls from the bodies they held, casting them into the abyss.

More came. Asher must’ve kept folks in reserve. Surely there’d not been this many in the conference room. Sounds of battle twisted around Farren, and a cacophony of sounds he couldn’t parse now.

Traveler after traveler came after Morrisey, only to find their judgment.

The conference room doors flung wide, a rolling tide of humanity flooding through the opening.

“Oh, shit.” Farren swallowed hard. No way could four people hope to take on so many.

Asher chortled. “You can never defeat me. Give up now, and I might be merciful. Allow you to use your power for my glory.”

“Never!” Morrisey snarled.

“Not even to see your beloved Craig again?”

Morrisey stopped. “My what?”

A stranger approached, tall and lean, with dark hair and eyes. Attractive, except for his corrupted aura. “It’s me, Morse. Craig.”

Fuck. Craig. The man in Morrisey’s painting. The lost love.

A traveler.

“Craig?” For a moment, hope filled Morrisey’s face, replaced a moment later with a cold hardness Farren had never seen before. “You’re not Craig. He died.”

“My old body died. I found a new one. I wanted to tell you, but couldn’t let you know I’m a traveler. You weren’t ready to learn about us yet. Leaving was the only way I could protect you.”

Back then, Morrisey would have no way of knowing. He faltered, indecision on his face.

Farren’s heart squeezed painfully with a never-before-experienced intensity. He’d heard of heartbreak before—a human exaggeration. Was this what they’d been talking about? Morrisey had loved Craig but didn’t know his nature. No! Don’t listen to him! But if faced with a chance to get Kele back, would Farren embrace any chance, no matter how small or false?

The indecision faded, replaced with certainty. “You weren’t with me because you loved me, but because of Asher. You were keeping watch and reporting to him, weren’t you, until he was ready?”

The man splayed his hands out at his sides. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t love you. I left to protect you.”

Surely Morrisey could see the lies in the man’s aura. Love is blind, Leary once said, speaking of a cheating former wife. Could humans truly convince themselves to deny painful truths?

The Craig traveler pleaded. “Asher… punished me. But he’s forgiven me now. We could be together again, Morse. You and me. Like old times.” Again, his aura told another tale.

Morrisey snarled. “If you’re with Asher, you’ve made your choice.”

Craig’s death had left Morrisey vulnerable, causing him to drink, which stunted his powers—until Asher was ready. Damn.

Morrisey bored an intense gaze into him. The imitation Craig grimaced, clutching his head. He and Morrisey stood there, locked in some kind of battle of wills. A tear tracked down Morrisey’s cheek.

“I’m sorry, Craig,” Farren felt more than heard. Pain, loss, determination.

Craig collapsed without a sound. Morrisey wiped away tears with the back of his hand and turned to face another man. “You! You were across the street at the birthday party.”

Birthday party? Oh, Morrisey’s last case with Atlanta PD.

The man grinned. “Your partner was so easy to manipulate. His despair. How sweet!”

“You made Will kill himself.” A statement, not a question.

The man gave a little bow. “Guilty as charged.”

“Why?” Morrisey spoke in a low growl, the tightening in his jaw betraying barely controlled rage.

“To get him out of the way.”

A diversion. This man created a diversion.

Safely tucked behind two of his followers, Asher grinned, ready to strike.

“No!” Farren shrieked, launching himself to intercept.

Morrisey closed his eyes, threw his head back and arms wide. The hairs on Farren’s arms rose a moment before a whirling vortex ripped through the room, tossing travelers right and left.

No, not travelers—what humans called souls.

Only Farren and a few others remained unaffected.

One by one, souls ripped from bodies, leaving human forms gasping out their last on the floor. The portal no longer dwelled within Farren, but stood before Morrisey, taking the lost into its inky blackness.

Domus had no wars in recent memory, so never had Farren heard of so many of his people dying suddenly, unless a sector crumbled. A few caught on to the carnage, turned, and tried to run.

They stood no chance against the force of Morrisey James. Several simply dropped in surrender where they stood, maintaining their souls.

Farren sought Jessa and Colm. Jessa huddled under a table. Colm was nowhere to be found.

Asher faced off against Morrisey, so far holding his own against the onslaught. He gestured wildly.

Morrisey didn’t seem to notice. All of Farren’s remaining human coworkers were dead, their bodies taken over by frantic travelers.

Those remaining fought or ran for the doors. The outcome didn’t change. One after another, the portal pulled them in.

The fury lessened, bodies were scattered on the floor, unmoving, while fewer souls slammed into the portal and disappeared.

All the while, Morrisey held his pose, oblivious to all around him. Or was he? He finally dropped his arms, popping his eyes open, and stared open-mouthed at the carnage.

Few remained standing.

Asher sneered. “Even with all your power, you can’t kill me. I’m invincible.”

“No, you’re not. I saved you for last.” Morrisey’s eyes flashed, as did the portal.

Asher wailed, clawing at nothing. His body shuddered, convulsing. No, not convulsing.

His soul ripped free. For a moment, Asher appeared in his true form, the lightness of his being twisted to obsidian with evil. Wickedly long teeth in a barely recognizable mouth, appearing more occisor than human. Or even Domusian.

Long, wicked claws grasped at air, swiped at Morrisey, but disembodied, held no power. The creature swirled and twisted, then plunged into the portal.

The air stopped swirling, the silence nearly deafening after the turmoil.

Morrisey stood amid the chaos, breathing hard in and out. His aura no longer appeared as darkness but contained streaks of light.

Farren’s influence.

Morrisey dropped to his knees, eyes unfocused, and fell on his face on bloody carpet.

Once more, bodies flooded through the doors. Farren crouched. “Morrisey? Morrisey! We have to go.” No way was any of them up to taking on more enemies, especially not with the portal closed and Farren too tired to summon one.

Two men in dark suits with buzz cuts strode forward while others kneeled by the dead and dying.

“Special Agent Owen Carter, FBI,” one man said, flashing a badge. “Who is in charge here?”

Farren looked around. No sign of Leary. Had he somehow escaped? “I seem to be the ranking team member. Agent Farren Austen, FBI Alternate Entities Task Force.” Would these guys even understand the significance? “Forgive me for not showing my badge. I don’t seem to have it on me.”

The agent held out his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Sorry, we thought there might be trouble, but got word too late.”

The moment Farren’s hand connected, a jolt of familiarity shot up his arm. “You’re Magestra.”

“All my team are,” Carter said. “They’re triaging. Who on your team needs help?”

Farren sat, gently rolling Morrisey over. “Agent Morrisey James.”

Carter tipped his head to the side. “He’s not Magestra. I can’t feel anything from him. I sense darkness, but…”

“He’s Princeps. And responsible for most of this.” Farren looked toward the bodies. “He banished the travelers who gave the rest of us bad names.”

Carter put his fingers to his lips, emitting a piercing whistle. “Medics!” To Farren, he asked, “Where’s your medical facility?”

“Below us. My badge wouldn’t get me into the building, so even if I could find it, I might be locked out of the lower floors, too.”

“Don’t worry.” Carter gave the briefest flicker of a smile. “We’ve got a traveler for that.”

Farren followed the gurneys bearing Morrisey and Colm into the lower levels. From Morrisey, Farren sensed only exhaustion through their connection.

Colm? His failing body wasn’t up to the challenge of battle. He lay gasping. Farren grasped Colm’s hand.

Voice raspy, Colm said, “I’d hoped to live out my life in Domus. See your and Kele’s spawn. A parent should never outlive their young.”

Farren listened, sensing Colm neither wanted nor needed input. They both knew there would never have been any spawn, not without Farren and Kele bonding. Which Farren now realized would’ve never happened.

“I want you to make me a promise.” Colm’s voice came out a mere whisper.

“If it’s in my power to give.” Farren leaned closer to hear better as they left the hallways for the infirmary.

“Don’t let them try to save me. If this is my time, let me go.”

As much as it hurt, Farren understood. He could always get a postmortem statement later, as long as he didn’t wait too long. “If you truly want to go.”

“I do. Oh, and another favor.” Colm turned away.

What could he possibly want? “Yes?”

“Take care of the cats for me, okay? I might not be much, but I’m all they’ve got.”

Farren squeezed Colm’s hand for perhaps the last time. “I will.”

The faintest hint of a smile flickered over Colm’s face. “That’s all I can ask. I know I blamed you for Kele or said I did, but you’d never willingly have abandoned family. I understand now.”

“No. I wouldn’t.”

“You’ve proved yourself by standing by me. Now, go. Tend to your mate, not a dying old man. I’ll say hello to Kele for you.”

“Please do that.” Farren reluctantly released Colm’s hand and watched two unfamiliar Nutrixes wheel him away. When the gurney faded out of sight behind a curtain, Farren reached out, running his senses along his connection with Morrisey.

He followed the direction his heart led him.