“Charlie?” Hank asked, leaning close.

“Huh?”

Nuallan smirked, eyes traveling from my head to my toes and back again with an unimpressed expression. “Having trouble focusing, Detective? Thinking about the past, are we?”

I gaped and then snapped my lips closed and did a one-eighty, giving her my back and looking up at the hard face of my partner as he stepped in front of me. “I’m going to kill her now,” I whispered. “Please let me kill her.”

Hank grabbed my shoulders and turned me back around, saying over my shoulder, “You’re the only one with the knowledge to save this man’s body until we can return his soul to him. But we need to do it now.”

“Why should I help you?”

I cut off Hank’s reply. “Because you destroyed my marriage and broke my kid’s heart, you—” Stupid, dumbass skank. My heart hammered, pushing the blood around my body so fast it made me dizzy. I was trying really hard to stand there in front of her, but it wasn’t working. I couldn’t get ahold of my emotions.

“No, Detective, your husband did that.”

“And so did you!” I was going to hit her. I committed to it, took a step forward, but Hank wrapped his hand around my arm and pulled me back. “You played a part, and you hold some responsibility, too,” I practically growled. “And one day someone is going to rip your heart out and hurt the ones you love.”

She pursed her lips. “Perhaps. But not today.”

“Excuse us for one second,” Hank said, escorting me down the steps and to the curb.

“Let me go,” I said through gritted teeth once we were on the sidewalk.

He released his grip, and I yanked my arm away, spinning back to the brightly lit mansion. But I didn’t move forward. I swallowed the huge lump of grief in my throat and blinked away angry tears.

“Charlie.” Hank’s hand landed on my shoulder, his fingers touching the mark beneath my shirt. Instantly dizziness clouded my vision as a warm wave of lust traveled through my body. His hand jerked back. And I knew he hadn’t meant to touch me there. “I’m sorry,” he said, pausing for a long moment as though he wanted to say more, but didn’t. Instead he said, “Stay here. I’ll go talk to her.”

I paced by the car as Hank and Nuallan’s conversation mixed with the sounds of the dinner party inside. Buckhead was a beautiful neighborhood, but all I could see as I looked at the manicured lawns and precisely trimmed hedges and trees was the future. A future where everything green had turned to dust and the darkness continued to roll overhead.

Finally Hank came down the steps, making long strides toward the car.

“What happened?”

“She’s coming. She just has to make excuses to her guests and get some things.”

“How the hell did you manage that?”

His nostrils flared slightly, and he couldn’t seem to make eye contact with me. The muscle in his jaw twitched. “I gave her my ring.”

“You what?”

I’d never seen Hank without his ring. Ever. Middle finger, left hand. A flat band carved of one entire, flawless piece of Idiron, a rare Elysian gemstone that reminded me of the deepest, darkest red amber. He’d showed it to me one time. I’d always thought it was a plain band, but the inside, where it rested against his skin, had been carved with small detailed script that signified its wearer and the wearer’s family. It had been in his family for thousands of years, he’d said.

“It’s just a ring, Charlie,” he said, shrugging it off.

“What’s she going to do with it? Pawn it to pay the electric bill?”

Hank didn’t answer. He was already ducking into the car.

Nuallan came out of the house with a large bag, her heels clicking down the steps and over the stone walk, breezing by me as if I were invisible, and got into the front seat. My seat.

Whatever.

The ride to the station was completely silent, allowing my thoughts to drift into those old hurtful memories, regrets, and ill wishes. After this was all over, and Aaron was back—because I had to think that way—I was going to step up my training. Having these powers inside of me was a total waste if I couldn’t use them at will like the off-worlders. And plus, being able to wield them meant being able to make people like Nuallan Gow pay on a level she could clearly understand and appreciate.

A glance at the console clock as we pulled into the station lot showed we had exactly one hour and forty minutes for Nuallan to perform whatever ritual needed to halt Aaron’s body from decomposing to the point of no return.

Station One was pretty quiet during the night, most officers out on patrol, and the ones who were there were busy dealing with the typical weekend stuff—drunks, prostitutes, spell-mongering … the usual.

My mark had stayed warm the entire time Hank had been in my presence, which I was starting to get used to. Oddly enough, it eased some of my tension—the mark possibly releasing some kind of magic feel-good hormone into my body. But my knowledge of marks was seriously limited, so I could be totally off base.

Hank escorted Nuallan to the morgue as I went down the first-floor hallway to Doctor Berk’s door, pushing it open after a quiet knock and peeking inside.

Bryn sat in the corner on the floor, her head buried in her arms as they held her knees tightly to her chest. Doctor Berkowitz sat in the cushy visitor’s chair, leaning over, her arms resting on her knees and her head low as she talked to Bryn. She glanced up as I entered.

“Charlie. Come in, we’re all done.”

After a tight smile to Doc Berk, I passed her chair and sat down next to my sister, putting my arm over her shoulders and pulling her close to me. I didn’t say anything, just sat there next to her as she relaxed against me, her shoulders bobbing as she cried. I rested my cheek against the top of her head.

The urge was there to cry, too, to fall apart and lose myself in emotions and hurt. But I didn’t. It was hardwired into me once I lost my brother and became a mom. If anyone I loved was hurting, I became the strong one. That’s how it worked. And my sister was hurting. I had to be the strong one. I wanted to be the strong one. It was as comfortable to me as putting on my holster and strapping in my weapons.

I scooted away from Bryn and got to my feet, taking her arm. “Come, kiddo, up you go.” Bryn followed mindlessly. I led her to the couch against the wall. She sat and then I pulled her legs up and onto the cushions so she could lie down.

“I gave her something to calm her. It’s beginning to work,” Berk said. “She just needs some rest.”

“What did you find out?”

“Bryn is very serious about helping Aaron, and is open to sharing with you and the others. She has very vivid memories of going to the therapy session, but not much after that. Then her memories returned after she woke up in the warehouse. She has lost entire blocks of time. Filling those in might take several sessions, but she did remember praying at the tomb and knowing she needed to do so before it was moved.”

“Moved where?”

“The tower is all she said.”

“Helios Tower,” I said.

Doctor Berk went around her desk and sat down, removing her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Makes sense. I suspect your killer is connected to the darkness in ways that are not only power driven, but emotional, too. He loves it. He thrives in it, delights in it. He wants a stage, Charlie. This is his show. If he has taken that tomb to the tower, he’ll get it as close to the darkness as possible.”

“On the roof, the arboretum’s patio.”

She nodded. “Quite possibly. Your guy is on one hell of a power trip. All you have to do is envision it, see things through his eyes, how he views himself and wants others to see him.”

I glanced at Bryn, her face not peaceful in sleep, but puffy and shadowed. Still, it was rest, and her breathing was slow and even. I said a quick thank you to Doctor Berk, and then hurried down the hallway to the elevator, which would take me down to the morgue and to Aaron.