Page 30 of Darkness

Oh, no. Thinking face. Either Leary finally mastered napping with his eyes open, or more likely, this couldn’t be good.

Farren sat down anyway in a chair facing the desk to wait out Leary second-guessing himself. He’d come around. He always did.

“Am I making a mistake?” Leary finally asked, voice only slightly less loud than usual, his equivalent of a murmur. He wasn’t above asking for opinions, even if he seldom took anyone’s advice.

“My instincts tell me no, and I’ve been told I have pretty good instincts.” Farren’s impression of Morrisey becoming a good addition to the team really nagged at him. Morrisey had tangled with an occisor and came out the winner. Even without Farren’s timely arrival, chances were Morrisey would have survived only slightly battered. Tough old bastard.

There’s something about him… Darkness and light.

“You have good instincts,” Leary agreed. Really? Since when had this man ever thought highly of Farren’s skills? Or rather, voiced praise.

He bit back comments about the times Leary ignored those instincts, to disastrous results. “He can perceive travelers for what they are, to a certain degree.” Except for Leary and just a few others—very few—humans couldn't tell a traveler from anyone else. He’d never met a human before with such skills as to actually see otherness. Not only did Morrisey sense something off, like Leary, but he’d also actually seen the differences, even if what he saw wasn’t entirely accurate. Arianna did indeed possess horizontally slitted irises in her other form, something Farren never saw as unusual until working with humans.

He continued. “Most people who see travelers in other forms see them merely as other. If they do see what they might call demon faces on human bodies, they aren’t likely to share the information.”

“All I notice when I see Arianna is a hazy aura. I’ve never seen her in another form or saw the goat eyes Morrisey mentioned.” Leary gave a wry smile.

“Very few can.” Even those from Farren’s former realm could rarely see below the surface to what lurked underneath. Morrisey said Arianna glowed and had horizontally slitted eyes. While Terran creatures with similar eyes were usually prey, Arianna was more of a predator.

“I know. But there’s a spookiness about him.” Leary exaggerated a shiver.

“Darkness, maybe?” Odd how even a human sensed the dark living inside Morrisey.

Leary snapped his fingers. “Yeah. There’s this whole gloom and doom thing going on. I can’t get a read on him.”

“Neither can I.” No need to bring Arianna’s impressions in at this point. “But if the two of us can’t, I doubt any travelers would be able to, either.” Farren paused, allowing Leary time to consider the words. “I’m pretty damned good at spotting auras.” He wasn’t bragging. Being part of law enforcement for two separate realms had taught him valuable lessons.

“Good point.” Leary resumed staring at nothing. “I’m all for a trial run. We’ve lost too many team members lately, ever since portals started opening willy-nilly around the city.”

Willy-nilly?

Leary said, “I’m partnering him with you for the time being. I trust you to keep him out of trouble and inform me of his progress.” With a little less confidence, he added, "If he accepts the offer."

“He will.” Without a doubt. Besides the darkness, Farren sensed great loneliness and a desire for a place to belong, though Morrisey probably didn’t know or wouldn’t acknowledge the lack of meaningful interaction in his life. “You know, just like the people of the other realms have gifts, I believe some humans do as well, which is how you came to know of travelers. You’re far more astute than most.” Flattering the boss never hurt.

Leary released a bemused snort. “Nope. Wrong place, wrong time, just drunk enough to believe the crazy ass shit my eyes showed me.”

“Even if you didn’t recognize a conjuring, you stopped something sinister from crossing over and put an end to a summoner. Huge accomplishment.” Leary surviving his encounter said a great deal about his resilience—or his being too stubborn to run. Farren inwardly cringed, recalling stories of the threat nearly unleashed on this world, stopped because Leary didn’t run.

Leary rolled his shoulder in a half-shrug, half-stretch, then extended his neck from side to side. “Like I said, wrong place, wrong time.”

“Maybe, but how often had the task force discovered a body near an abandoned portal, likely because someone saw what they weren’t supposed to and were silenced? And how many times had there been expectation of a witness, but no body? Just because people didn’t come forward didn’t mean they hadn’t witnessed something odd."

“Okay. Keep your eyes open, Austen. I don’t want the sonofabitch occisor coming back for him.”

Occisors tended to hold grudges. But they also usually had someone else holding their leashes. “Don’t worry. I’ve got his back.”

“I know you do. Now go on. Go away. Don’t you have work to do?” Leary waved his hand in a shooing motion.

“I do.” Farren returned to his office, a shining symbol embedded in the door human eyes rarely noticed but which announced Farren’s territory. He spent the afternoon devising Morrisey’s training plan. Did Leary have to start him in the field soon? The empty office between Farren’s and Leary’s would do as a workspace. For the time being. Given the volume of some of Leary’s more energetic conversations, anyone assigned the space left at the first opportunity.

Prescott hadn’t occupied the office long. Before Prescott, Williams. Before Williams, Adams. All humans who couldn't handle being on the task force. Two didn’t take the job seriously, paying the price. Adams returned to Atlanta PD, unable to withstand the pressure of the job.

Maybe Morrisey would prove to be made of sterner stuff. Even those three hadn’t been able to see travelers to the degree Morrisey did.

Two small apartments on Farren’s residence floor were empty. They needed airing but should be sufficient to house a recruit for training. Given the complexity of their assignments, best to keep an eye on all prospects until certain they coped sufficiently, which might have spared Prescott a horrible fate. I hope Morrisey likes gray. Some travelers couldn't see colors, like a recent addition to the team. The drabness of the office never seemed to bother him.

Farren needed color, light, and sound. His apartment lacked all three, though he made up for the lack with a coat of paint, larger wattage light bulbs, and lots of speakers. He loved instrumentals, mostly falling into the new age category.

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