Page 107 of Darkness

Asher screamed, crashing to the floor.

Morrisey stalked him, irresistibly drawn. Some evil part deep within hissed, Finish him! No! Not right.

The two goons poked their heads through the basement door, spotted Asher, and ran. Morrisey focused on the two, on their horror, their doubt, and pulled. A loud thump overhead said one at least had fallen.

Asher extended trembling fingers. “Please?”

Morrisey squatted beside him.

Asher grabbed Morrisey’s hand and grinned.

A blast of pure heat hit Morrisey in the face. Before he could climb off his ass, Asher pounced on Morrisey’s intended meal, who screamed once, then fell silent.

Asher fled up the stairs, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Morrisey darted to the fallen human. Dead. Another innocent who’d died to feed Asher’s lust for power. No, Morrisey wouldn’t kill for fun. Never!

“Asher!” Dizziness overtook him. Morrisey fell to his knees, gasping. What was happening? Had Asher drugged him again? Blackness formed around Morrisey’s vision.

Chapter Thirty-five

Diffused purple light surrounded Morrisey on all sides, including overhead and down below. He lay on a firm surface; he couldn’t make out what. Not hard concrete. No sounds. The scent of herbs permeated the air, along with a shimmery glow.

A radiant figure stepped through the luminescence, with light fanning out on either side of their body.

Like wings.

Like Farren.

The light shifted, twisting into the shape of a lovely young woman wearing a purple toga, her hair mostly brown with purple highlights. Her eyes were most definitely lilac, with horizontal pupils. “I hope taking a more familiar form will put you at ease, as well as speaking in a fashion you’re used to. Crossing realms can be disorienting.”

Morrisey sat up and extended his hand, seeing only light.

“Focus,” the woman said, keeping her voice gentle. “Imagine the form you’re used to or any you’re comfortable with.”

Morrisey closed his eyes, recalling his own face in the mirror, his imperfect body, his favorite jeans and T-shirt, feet bare. “Where am I?” He wouldn’t be the crazy one by guessing wrong. For all he knew, he’d hit his head.

The woman answered him with musical laughter. “Why, you’ve come home.”

“Home?” Morrisey opened his eyes to find he now looked precisely as he’d imagined—or what he could see of himself. So good to be wearing clothes besides dirty boxers, even if he didn’t know where he was.

“Yes. You’re in Domus.”

Domus? Farren’s home? Wait! Morrisey’s home, too. He shook his head. What the hell? Everything he’d believed about himself was wrong.

The woman said, “You’ve been among humans for so long you probably don’t remember. How old were you when you were taken?”

“Taken?” Was it true? Was Morrisey really a traveler? If so, he’d been brought to Terra young and put into another’s body. No time to consider such details now. “I think I was still a baby.”

The woman gave him a warm smile. “That explains a lot. In the human world, we’d be called cousins.”

“How did you know I was here?” Better yet, how did he get here?

“The peacekeepers found you and recognized your lineage. They called me.”

“I don’t remember anyone finding me.”

“After some unexpected surprises, the peacekeepers now put anyone who arrives in stasis, though I’ll admit it seldom happens. Most want to leave, not come here.” She nearly snarled, “There is one who gets past our defenses.”

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