Page 122 of Darkness

“Good heavens. He can’t be serious.” The stranger’s voice rose and fell as though he paced the floor away from the microphone and back again.

Leary sighed. “I’m afraid he is. Bat shit too.”

“Do you believe he can?”

“Possibly, since we don’t know how many travelers are here or even who they’re possessing. For all we know, the president himself has been compromised. Plus, they have powers we can’t imagine. We tried to watch those in the compound, but they always eluded us.” Leary let out a disgusted snort. “I’ve recently heard of teleportation.”

How the fuck had any human found out? Only the people in the room upon his arrival should know of Morrisey’s newfound ability. While he didn’t fully trust Jessa yet, she would have reported to Asher, not Leary. Asher wasn’t the type to share critical information. That left Sykes and Waverly from the FBI travelers, and Waverly hadn’t been in the room at the time.

Which didn’t mean she couldn’t have found out by other means.

Morrisey mumbled to Farren. “Who is Leary talking to?”

“Department of Defense. A guy named Masterson. I only met him a handful of times. Reasonable guy, if prone to be short-sighted.”

“I’m calling a meeting,” Masterson said. “This is a matter of national security. I must alert the president.”

“If he’s not an alien,” Leary groused.

Masterson ignored him. Short-sighted, indeed. “Are you and your staff safe?”

“For now. Asher gave us one week to formally surrender.”

“Stand by. I’ll be in touch.” A loud thump must be the door to Leary’s office closing.

Leary let out a muffled, “Son of a bitch!”

Morrisey met Farren’s troubled gaze. “I believe we should pay Leary a visit, don’t you?”

Chapter Thirty-eight

What? Morrisey had been through what humans called hell and expected to just keep going. Farren scowled, folding his arms over his chest. “Like hell you will until you get some rest.”

Morrisey met Farren’s obstinacy in kind, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. Which would’ve worked better if he hadn’t been swaying on his feet. “I can’t rest right now I—”

“You’re falling down exhausted. You can’t accomplish anything without a clear mind. Trust me. I understand the urgency, but we’re both running on fumes and need our wits about us. We’ve got his office bugged, and we’ve got people watching the compound and looking for Asher.”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Jessa chimed in from her place by the war room TV where she monitored local news. “Remember, I’ve been to Asher’s house of horrors. I know what you’ve been through, as well as what you’re up against. You can’t expect to win against the bastard if you’re not one hundred percent. You might be more powerful, but he’s had a lot more time to practice his skills. Do you even know what skills you possess?”

No. And Farren worried about what they might be. Humans always suspected travelers for their potential. Morrisey could meet and exceed all expectations. Princeps were secretive about their abilities. No telling what Morrisey could be capable of.

“C’mon. We’re sharing a room,” Farren said. “They’re at a premium right now.” He guided Morrisey with a hand on his back. The poor guy stumbled, barely staying upright.

But he allowed Farren to guide him.

Their assigned room was small, possibly used as a craft or bonus room by former tenants, and contained only a mattress placed directly on the floor. Someone had found sheets somewhere, though they were far too large for the double mattress. Who needed luxury just to sleep? Morrisey collapsed onto the mattress, staring at the far wall.

“Get some rest,” Farren said. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

For a few moments, Morrisey remained quiet, then, in a barely audible whisper, said, “Stay.”

“But they need—”

“So do I.” The anguish in Morrisey’s eyes nearly broke Farren’s heart. So much happening, so quickly.

Farren could spare a few minutes. He sat on the mattress beside Morrisey, letting out a groan.

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