Page 68 of Darkness

“The host wasn’t a volunteer. The traveler dealt with a powerful being from my world who promised her a new body in this realm for a cost.”

“What was the cost?”

“An amount of human money she didn’t understand and never would’ve agreed to. So, she was forced to sell her body and turn over her wages. She’d also had to force a living, healthy human from her body.”

Trafficked. Someone trafficked the traveler, even though she might not come from this realm. Morrisey had dealt with human traffickers before and hated each and every one. If vile deeds could turn one into an animal in Farren’s realm, traffickers proved the phenomena existed in Terra too.

What the fuck? When had Morrisey started thinking of Earth as Terra? "She remained in the body. Why?”

"For one, only you and I came within reach to touch once her body started to fail, and we're immune. Also, the traveler wanted to end their existence. Too much guilt and disappointment.”

“Who is this asshole who trafficked her?” Morrisey would use the guy for a punching bag.

"I have no idea. I knew humans trafficked other humans, but one of my ilk is doing the same. Though, from what I learned, he might’ve outranked me in my world. I guess once you get power, it’s hard to give it up, so he’s trying to maintain his status here. I wish I knew how he contacted someone in my old realm, though. Very few can consciously travel both ways.”

"What about the kid who was hit by a train?" Monster didn’t come close to describing the asshole who’d callously killed hoodie guy. Just recalling the superior smirk on the bastard’s face made Morrisey cringe.

Farren expressed disapproval with a shake of his head. “I didn’t get into his mind in time to find anything. Based on what I learned, though, a lesser being from Domus inhabited the kid, a loyal hound doing its master’s bidding. An occisor in the truest sense, having never been more. He must’ve no longer served a purpose after killing the two women who fought back against their fate. They were meant as a warning to others.”

“The older dude touched hoodie guy’s head first, like the asshole did me in the alley.” May the fuckwad rot in hell.

“If the occisor had just finished feeding on the two women, his master could potentially take the energy. He wouldn’t let a good meal go to waste. You said in your official report you didn’t get a good enough look to recognize him if you saw him again, but do you have anything we can go on?”

Images normally imprinted in Morrisey’s brain, which he then transferred to paper. “I’m afraid not. I only glimpsed him from a distance. I’d guess him to be about six feet, with short brown hair. Medium build. That describes too many folks to narrow down.” Morrisey busied himself chewing on a hangnail, a bad habit he picked up when trying to quit smoking. Now, instead of exchanging one bad habit for another, he wound up with two bad habits. Thanks to all the powers that be, I can’t read emotions from a distance. Or the kid would’ve had Morrisey reaching for hard drugs.

He didn’t even attempt to capture the train scene in a sketch, just the apartment.

They rode quietly for a few miles. “I might get a better impression if you let me try,” Farren suggested.

“You can what?” The single moment of side-eye sent Morrisey’s hackles to rising.

“I can temporarily possess you to see if I can get a clearer picture—under controlled circumstances. If you trust me.”

“Didn’t you say I was immune?” Let someone else possess him? Oh, hell no!

“You’re immune to forced entry. If you allow me in willingly, it might work.”

What if Farren possessed him and kept Morrisey’s body? Reality crept in. Not likely anyone would want to trade down from a good-looking model type to a hard-drinking, heavy-smoking couch potato who appeared at least twenty years older than Farren’s current body.

Would the communication go both ways? Give Morrisey access to Farren’s thoughts? “What do you mean by controlled?”

Farren blew out a breathy exhale, tension smoothing from a clenched jaw. “We have a facility at the office. Leary must be present. It’s like the first time at the hospital. We'll lie down on a bed, touching. The whole thing happens fast, maybe too fast for you to even know I’m there.”

Uh-huh. A likely story. “Are there any lasting effects?”

“No.”

What if Farren got into Morrisey’s deepest, darkest thoughts? And if they were on a bed together, Morrisey couldn’t be responsible for his actions.

“Don’t worry. I’ll have you focus on the moment in question.” Farren patted Morrisey’s arm. “I’ll search there and only there.”

Morrisey whipped his head toward Farren. “You reading my mind?”

Farren gave the tiniest hint of a smile, never turning his eyes from the road. “No. But I’d worry about someone poking around in my private thoughts if the situation were reversed.”

Smart man. “You know humans far better than you think you do.”

“I try. I've been doing this for a decade now.”

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