Page 74 of Darkness

“Of course. They’re now connected to me, and I am connected to them, a concept most humans and travelers don’t understand. They’re more than friends now. Willing to share what they know. And while I’m sure your partner is trustworthy, I don’t trust those he works for.”

“Why do you trust my partner? You said before you didn’t.”

“I’ve been asking around. He had a solid reputation in the other world and in this one. I wouldn’t trust him with you otherwise.”

“Wait? Trust him with me?” Could this conversation get any stranger?

“Why, yes. You’re special, Tenebris, and will play an important role in the combining of our two societies. I wouldn’t take chances with your well-being.” Jessa stroked Morrisey's cheek.

Morrisey managed not to flinch and forcibly blocked reading any emotions. Jessa might have permission. Morrisey did not, and she wasn’t a suspect—yet.

“Other than the drinking and smoking,” Jessa mock scolded, “which I have no control over.”

Morrisey hardened his eyes, though unsure how much Jessa could make out in the darkness. "So, you expect me to go behind my partner's back and tell you about our cases."

Jessa tilted her head ever so slightly. It suddenly occurred to Morrisey how much his night vision had improved since the attack.

“Have you given me information? It seems to me I’m telling you things.” Jessa’s flirty laughter tinkled.

True. Not only about the case, but about travelers in general. “I can’t argue the point. Can you force your way into people’s heads?”

Jessa gasped. “What do you take me for? I’d never do that. First, it’s wrong, and second, I’ve never lacked for willing hosts. There’s always someone in need of favors they’re willing to work with me on. Besides, you’re closed off. No one can possess you without your consent.”

“Why, and how do you know?”

Jessa shrugged. “I don't know why, but you may as well have 'Fuck off!' etched onto your aura. Only a desperate soul would even think of entering you.” She closed the distance, putting them nose to nose, clear-eyed gaze still locked to his. “Banishment might be preferable.”

This time Morrisey did flinch, retreating until the back of his head hit the window.

“I’ll give you a sample of information for free.” Her smirk boded ill for someone.

“What?”

“Remember those blond cops who were killed?”

“Yes?” All blond, all blue-eyed, all in law enforcement.

“Someone is looking for your partner.”

Farren? “Why?”

“Because he’s standing in their way.”

Chapter Twenty-four

A homeless man found the body—or parts of it—behind a dumpster, causing the team to leave the compound in the wee hours of the morning.

Strobes flared from four Atlanta PD cars, and the crackle of radios might well have become the background music of Farren’s life.

He squatted, taking in air through his mouth to avoid the putrid scent of rotting and dead things, which nearly overpowered the lingering herbal tang. The victim hadn’t had a chance. At least two travelers had been here.

Morrisey stood to one side, glancing right and left, moving to a new angle, then perusing the area again, his usual method of evaluating a crime scene, but without his notepad and pen this time. Finally, he crouched next to Farren, showing no sign of disgust at the smell or the condition of the body.

Farren imagined he felt the heat radiating from Morrisey and smelled soap and clean skin. A touch of booze and cigarette smoke, too, but faint. Farren fully understood why Morrisey avoided him. The bond between them wasn’t complete, but didn’t seem inclined to stop trying.

Tendrils of Farren’s psyche reached for Morrisey’s. Farren pulled them back by force of will. At least Morrisey hadn’t run away—yet.

Morrisey snapped Farren from his musings. “What we got?”

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