Page 87 of In the Dark

Calling on whatever magic he had left, Morgan used his wings for leverage and eventually freed his companion.

“What… Holy hell. What is going on?” Vane asked. He reclined on the ground a safe distance from the danger spot and took a moment to catch his breath.

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s a good sign.”

Vane whipped his eyes to the right. “A good sign?”

“Yeah.” Morgan focused on the faint trail he followed. “Because it means we’re getting close.”

**

They stepped across the last plane of his jurisdiction hours later, before walking into an area of the subconscious Morgan was not familiar with. Those depths belonged to others in his family. Brothers and sisters of different names who skirted the line between good and evil.

The forest opened up and there at the boundary sat a bayou of cypress and pecan with gnarled roots, Spanish moss hanging from broken limbs. Tobacco-colored water snaked through the low country.

A colossal live oak drew up from those waters and stretched aged limbs into the sky. Life and death both shared the bayou in a precarious balance. Shadows ran deep, marsh grass and rushes cloaked with them. Rivers and creeks wound into one another and flowed toward an outer edge of blackness.

Moonlight dappled along the rippling stretch of water, dark and deadly. In this plane of existence there was never quiet, always something buzzing and humming while others hunted.

The air stilled, as if sensing their foreign presence.

One step into the bog and they would be lost. He recognized the threat in those gently lapping waters, the flash of something breaking the surface once before sinking below.

“Be careful,” Morgan warned. “Death hides and waits in the cruel beauty of this land. We don’t know what else is out there. Or who else.”

“How much farther?”

“This is the end of the line, I’m afraid. Any farther and we open ourselves up to the worst kind of creature imaginable. My family.”

Scanning the horizon, he continued to search for her. They were close. He could no longer sense her, but he knew. Felt his heart lurch in his chest.

Vane spoke quietly. “Do you see anything?”

“Not yet.”

“She is here.”

From the way he said it, Morgan was unsure which she Vane meant.

He gave a single flap of his wings and took to the air. The oak captured his attention. Those long limbs hid a multitude of sins. And there, in the shadow of moss and leaves, stood the one being he would give his life for.

“Karsia!” Morgan burst out in relief.

Uncaring how odd it was that she’d appeared out of nowhere, he dove toward her. Wings folded and, after making sure the ground was stable, he landed.

“Vane, over here. I found her.”

The girl stood with her head leaned against the tree, silvery light shining down on her long expanse of auburn hair. The white dress, not something of his creation, hung in tattered strands down to her knees. One pale arm rested against the bark while the other hung limp at her side.

Vane held Morgan back when he would have rushed forward. “Be careful. Things are not always what they seem.”

“Are you mad? We’ve finally found her. Karsia!” Freeing himself from Vane, Morgan did indeed fly over the ground to her. He touched down with a rush of air and held his arms open to gather her close.

“Darling, are you—” The girl’s shoulders shook silently and Morgan brought her to him. “Shh, now. Everything is going to be all right.”

The quiet sobbing continued as a low tone filled the air. Laughter. It grew in volume until Karsia drew back, hair melting from auburn to a bright burnished gold. The woman continued to laugh, her back stiffened though she didn’t pull away. He loosened his embrace a little more with each of her hitching breaths, and then she turned on him, a leer twisting the summer-blue eyes into something ugly.

She tossed her long mane of ribbon-straight blond hair over her shoulder. Legs lengthened and muscles tightened while breasts shrank to a pert two sizes smaller. “Are you sure it’s her, half-breed?”

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