Page 37 of Darkness

Farren remained single for reasons on and off the job.

He resigned himself to another beer and a few fantasies about the intriguing detective down the bar. Maybe he’d recall the images with his right hand later tonight.

A stunning blonde entered a short while later, beelining straight for Morrisey.

Farren’s muscles bunched, ready to spring into action. What did she want?

Morrisey and the woman chatted briefly before Morrisey stood, paid his bill, and strolled out alone, eyeing an older human man in passing. Wow! If looks could kill.

Hell, of the two men, Farren would certainly have stuck with Morrisey.

Wait! The blonde was a traveler. No, not a traveler, but she carried a traveler. A traveler sharing a body. What? Most just took what they wanted, leaving their victims dead or at the very least incapacitated.

Had Morrisey known? Yes, of course he had. He could see them, though sharing a body muted the traveler’s aura. And Morrisey appeared unalarmed. Meeting a traveler. Why? Oh, the questions Farren could ask.

The older man approached the bar, taking the seat Morrisey left. He spoke to the blonde in short, clipped tones. Arrogance oozed from him. Not for long. She would soon put him in his place. They weren’t the kind to suffer fools lightly, dealing with others as they’d been dealt with. Later. For now, Farren drank his beer, observing her as she made newcomer cry.

“Stop him!” came from the opposite side of the room near the pool tables.

Farren edged closer.

A surprisingly strong gray-haired man had a beautiful younger man by the throat on the floor. The young man thrashed. Others tried to pull the older man away, but he shrugged them off.

Even over beer, fried meat, and body odor, Farren caught a whiff of herbs.

The old man paused, his gaze meeting Farren’s. A traveler. An old one who’d slipped in without notice.

This traveler locked eyes with Farren, freezing briefly before launching to his feet, hurtling toward the exit faster than a man who appeared so ancient should.

Farren dropped his beer onto the nearest table, tuning out the indignant “Hey!” of protest, and charged toward the door.

A cluster of humans gawked, impeding Farren’s progress. “Let me through!”

“Excuse you!” an angry woman snipped, sloshing her drink.

No time for pleasantries, not when she’d let Farren’s prey escape. He exerted a mental push to get them out of his way and charged out the main entrance. “Where’d the old man go?” he shouted.

The muscle-bound bouncer shot a thumb over one shoulder, never shifting his attention from his cell phone.

Farren shot down the sidewalk. Damn, the traveler was fast.

He ran, but not fast enough to alert anyone to his otherness. His quarry wasn’t so cautious. As soon as Farren got away from people, he put on a burst of speed most humans couldn’t manage. What type of traveler attacked someone in a crowded bar? In the presence of human witnesses?

A desperate one. Or an arrogant one.

Farren stopped, listening to the night, the distant sound of cars. Fuck. Abandoned warehouses lined both sides of the street. Too many hiding places.

Farren stuffed down his humanness, opening himself to skills he’d brought from Domus. Arms out to his sides, he slowly turned in a circle, reaching out with a receptive mind. The same mechanism that once allowed feasting on the atmosphere also allowed him to connect with others of his kind, at least when relatively free of distractions. Closer… closer… There! Farren opened his eyes, shooting across the street and past an open entrance.

Now he stopped again, keeping senses humans didn’t have in play. A disturbance in the atmosphere, some strange, indefinable thing told of his quarry’s location. Slowly, slowly… Farren rested his hand lightly on a handrail, taking the stairs quietly. He maintained an even tone. “You violated our laws by attacking a man tonight,” he stated, not expecting an answer.

From overhead came a belligerent, “Human laws. They don’t rule us.”

One problem with the older ones: they’d been here long enough to feel superior. "While you continue to live among them, they do. You’ve also violated the rules of Domus against willfully harming others.”

“We aren’t there, are we?” came the snippy reply.

Now to keep the elder talking to pinpoint his location. "Why did you target the man in the bar?"

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