Page 67 of Darkness

Morrisey had even heard a growled “corpse fucker” at an agent who’d apparently liked Arianna. Through it all, Farren maintained his integrity, didn’t return the muttered insults, and continued doing a thankless job.

He must be physically and mentally exhausted.

Farren shook his head, then noticed a cop watching them and stilled. “I don’t know. C’mon. Let’s go someplace private to talk.” He gave the cop a withering glare and climbed behind the steering wheel.

Morrisey opened the passenger door, fixing his gaze on his partner. “What about the traveler? We can’t leave it there. It might take over a body.”

Farren shut his eyes, breath coming out in a whoosh. “They couldn’t deal with what they’d been made to do. What they’d seen. They asked to be banished. I… complied.”

Morrisey swallowed hard. Banished. The traveler asked to be banished, equivalent of traveler suicide? The finality in Farren’s tone implied an unwillingness to discuss further.

Morrisey couldn’t blame him.

The sun rode low in the sky. Morrisey’s stomach rumbled as he folded himself into the passenger seat. He wouldn’t have had an appetite after viewing such a scene twenty years ago, but he’d grown jaded with time. He idly filled in details on his sketchpad. “Why don’t we find somewhere to eat?” Something he’d also be unable to do years ago, with the scent of blood still invading his nose. But Farren needed to recharge before he fell down somewhere.

Farren gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Sure. My host body requires nourishment.”

Interesting enough of a comment to distract Morrisey from murder—for the moment. “But what do you eat? You still have to feed the spirit side of you, right?”

Farren didn’t answer immediately, head tilted at a considering angle. “Justice. I survive on justice.”

Morrisey snorted. "Not much justice in the world, even on the best of days. You must be starving.”

“Tell me about it. The ultimate diet.” Farren turned toward Morrisey at a red light, a wry, fleeting smile on his lips.

“I have another question for you. If you actually need energy to be healthy, and you can get it without hurting anyone, what’s the harm?”

“Humans fear our skills. Think we’re taking from them, violating their rights. So, I do without.”

Telling that he didn’t say We do without. “But you could eat?”

Farren’s eyelids drooped. “Food sounds good. What do you have in mind?”

“You like Chinese?”

Farren stared off at nothing. Kinda freaky. “My host did and still insists occasionally.”

What the actual fuck? “You talk to him? I thought he was gone.”

“I compare it to muscle memory. Sometimes, I want a certain kind at the mention of food, many I don’t recall trying since our merging, so I assume my host liked those things.” The light changed to green. Farren turned left.

“So, you do or don’t like Chinese?”

Farren shrugged. “While in this body, my tastes coincide with the original Farren’s.”

“You know how weird you sound, right? Talking about your body like it’s another person.” Of course, hadn’t Jessa said the same about her host’s drink of choice? In Jessa’s case, the host was still around to ask.

“Sorry. You’re right. I should be more careful what I say to unsuspecting humans. I might let classified information slip.”

“If you can’t be honest with me, who can you be honest with?” What the hell? Morrisey getting all chummy? Even as close as he’d been to Will, he’d kept personal details at a minimum.

“True. And thank you.” Farren flashed a dimple that must’ve gotten the original Farren work as a model. “It’s very hard acting human all the time.”

Morrisey agreed, and he was human. “Are you really so different from us?”

“We don’t have enough time now, but I’ll tell you someday.” Farren sounded totally drained.

Okay. Time to change the subject. “What did you learn from the woman in the apartment?”

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