Page 16 of Darkness

Weariness tugged at Farren, dragging him down. His stomach rumbled. Working “magic” in a magically challenged environment took a toll. The sooner he replenished his strength, the better.

The remnants of his host complained about being “on a diet.” Farren had learned to tune out the impulses to starve his body while snorting massive amounts of cocaine instead.

The refrigerator yielded a carton of leftover chili. Good enough. Dump in a bowl, pop into the microwave, then eat. He could have simply gone to a shopping center and eaten his fill, and briefly, the temptation lurked, just out of reach. No. He’d promised. No feeding from humans. He wouldn't drain them, but still. Violation of their rights.

He’d also signed a contract swearing to forego his natural tendencies. Feeding off humans didn’t provide nutrition for his physical body.

So, leftover chili would have to do, regardless of what his host’s body’s former tenant grumbled.

The cop from the alley wouldn’t leave Farren’s mind. The man wasn’t incredibly handsome, fairly average even, yet tall. Nevertheless, there was something haunting about him.

Tenebris. Darkness.

Just like Farren was once known as a Lux. Light. Darkness and light.

Old myths from a world he’d tried hard to, if not forget, stop crying over.

Appetite suddenly fleeing, Farren put aside his meal and made his way across the apartment to the full-length mirror in his bathroom. How long since he’d seen his true self? He closed his eyes in concentration, reopening them to a shining being standing where a human body had been. His original form, kept hidden away.

An image humans associated with angels. He unfurled wings of pure light.

An illusion, but still. The resemblance to one of his parents was unmistakable. Long gone. Like the rest of his family.

Like Kele.

Like Farren should be. Aluxi. He’d been known as Aluxi in this form, born to maintain order, perform minor medical treatments, and play executioner when called upon. Born into a lineage spanning generations of Magestra, his ingrained instincts were finely honed to maintain justice.

He released the hold on his former self, returning to the appearance of a twenty-seven-year-old man whose face once graced the covers of magazines until vices got the better of the original incarnation of Farren Austen.

Farren’s otherworldly nature kept the body from aging as fast as an average human’s.

Ten years. Ten human years ago, someone tore him from his home world. One moment Aluxi hung in his bed, missing everyone who’d once been a part of his existence. The next, he lay gasping for air while paramedics filled his new host body full of Narcan.

“Mr. Austen? Mr. Austen, can you hear me?”

Aluxi’s old life vanished between one heartbeat and the next. No going back. A tear rolled down his cheek, the most he’d allow himself. If he started crying in earnest, he might never stop.

Farren forced his shoulders back, head high. His parents hadn’t raised a quitter.

Long live Farren Austen.

With one heck of a mess to untangle.

***

Farren got to work early while details remained vivid.

“Good morning, Farren,” the receptionist called out in a language he barely spoke these days as he passed by her plain white desk by the elevator. “Why are you starting so early this morning?” Inhabiting an approximately thirty-year-old body, Arianna swept her wheat blonde hair into a bun on the top of her head, held in place by a pencil. She was a tiny thing, really, by human standards.

Looks were deceiving if someone thought small meant weak.

“Got work to do,” Farren replied, giving a tired smile—all he had energy for.

“Did you catch last night’s episode of NCIS?” Of all the travelers who worked for the FBI, Arianna was the one who’d wholeheartedly adopted human ways. She rushed to her apartment every evening to watch crime shows on TV, screaming loudly about every detail the shows got wrong.

Then she’d shop online.

Farren leaned one-handed on her desk for the little rest available. “I went out last night.”

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