Darkly - Episode #13

Lucky 13? Probably not.

Want to start at the beginning? You can find the 1st Episode HERE.

Recap: With one phone call, Kinley is unexpectedly pulled back into finding serial killer Omega. With everything on her plate, she’ll happily chuck it all for real FBI work, but does that mean all the magic will be patient and wait?

Now… onto Darkly Episode #13.

"The phone is still active… we got him!"

Alec's voice squeaked with excitement, making me doubt he was breathing properly.

The whole team had to be jonesing on adrenaline, except me. I was sitting on my butt at Ward Six, monitoring their movements. Sure, it was a lot of moving parts. I had to coordinate with the local police and S.W.A.T., as well as aid Gil, Alec, Team B, and the visiting FBI agents as they swarmed the Mall and closed in on the cell phone signal.

We utilized technology that spoofed a cell tower, allowing us to pinpoint the phone within inches. The goal: trap whoever had the victim's cell phone. We all hoped it was Omega, and since the signal led to a Mall, it fit the profile, but a Mall close to Ward Six? That made me nervous.

You know he's playing with you.

The unwanted message came from Dante.

He kept needling me since I'd been left behind to babysit. Of course, it was a chance for us to talk without anyone knowing. I could use my computer symbiotic abilities and erase any surveillance that would reveal I knew Dante. Since it would take a few minutes for all the moving parts to converge on the Mall—and the prisoner needed regular feedings—I took the opportunity to face Dante and deliver a pizza.

"Are you here on your own, or did my parents send you?" I asked, coming out of the elevator and heading to Dante's cell like I'd picked up on a conversation. In some ways, we had.

Dante considered me, leaning a hand against the plexiglass cell wall. "You strangled me."

"You betrayed me."

Dante bit his lip. "There is that."

I put the pizza box into a slot, allowing Dante to get his food.

"Leftovers." I nodded at the pizza box. "I heated it up."

Dante took a peek under the lid and sniffed.

"Can we jump to the end?" I asked. "I know you want to find your stepmother. I can help with that information. Get you right to her doorstep."

Dante sucked in his breath. Perhaps he expected a little more emotion since I'd loved Tia like a little sister, too.

"The FBI is curious to see how you'd break out of this joint." I cocked my head to the side. "I doubt they'd let you actually escape, so we're not going to take that option. Instead, you're going to tell them your civil liberties are being trounced, and you've got a lawyer that will raise all kinds of media attention if they don't transfer you to the local police."

"I don't have a lawyer."

"You will."

"You'd send me away?" Dante pouted. "But what will I tell your mom?"

I took it as confirmation he'd volunteered to find me. Stupid. It would cost him.

"Tell mom I'm alive and doing well." I smiled. My fake smile.

He mirrored it. "She'll love to know you've got a new guy."

I didn't take the bait. "You need to convince the nice FBI agents that you're not on the Gray. You're just a jerk with some nasty pyrotechnics and good at breaking outta jail because you were dropped on your head as a baby. I'll find proof to back up that story."

"Still talking to computers?" Dante hummed as if remembering. "Sweet skill. Do they know? Well, of course, they know, but how much do they know?"

"Not your problem."

He shook his head, disagreeing. "You gave up on me, sweetheart, but I did not give up on you."

Shit. Some words had more resonance than others, and I should have expected he'd know which ones to say. Sweetheart… it triggered memories of being locked in his arms, legs intertwined, and nuzzling his neck. I'd breathed in his scent like a bloodhound ready to track a lost man.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, holding it together. Barely.

Dante shrugged, but I'd lost the thread. What the Hell were we even talking about? I had to get out of this. Out of here. Back to my chair… and desk… and computer. Out of habit, I mentally reached for the computer and learned that Gil and the team weren't yet in place. I had time to die a thousand deaths.

Dante stared, a bit confused, like he was trying to read my expression, and I wondered if this was as hard for him as it was for me. "You'll need to use words," I said, as a shrug wasn't going to cut it.

Blue eyes sparkled at me, and I remembered losing myself in those eyes. How did he do that? Eyes don't sparkle.

Me. You.

The words echoed in my head, husky and dripping with need.

Forever.

I almost groaned, but I was running out of time.

"We're over. Get used to it." Putting every ounce of "you're dead to me" in my glare, I turned to leave.

"Omega is playing with you," Dante said. "Big time. This will not end easy."

"What do you know about Omega?"

"You're in over your head."

I couldn't tell if he really knew anything or if it was a guess. Whatever had been going on in his life since we'd parted hadn't been all sweetness and light. He'd changed. He'd lived a lot of life without me, and it showed. Not on his handsome face. The scars were deeper. They practically pulsed with power. "What happened, Dante, to make you such an asshole?"

He stood back from the cell wall, insulted. "Wasn't I always an asshole? I recall something to that effect when you left me."

"I don't recall," I feigned disinterest. "It wasn't that memorable."

"Did you ever consider that I tried to save you?" He asked, allowing his vulnerability to show. "That maybe I tried to reveal everything without destroying your whole world?"

"If that was the goal, you failed."

He took a step back as if I'd actually hit him.

The hurt resonated in my soul, echoing from Dante's heart to mine. A tiny, silver thread still held us together. Magic was tricky that way. Hard-earned love was the hardest to exorcise. No matter. I'd shred the connection, given a chance.

"I failed you," Dante admitted a rasp hugging at the three words. Regret tangible.

Touching, but I didn't hear an apology. It was more like a do-over wish.

"Coming to Ward Six wasn't your best moment," I said, meaning it. "I'm staying, you're leaving, and that's the end of it."

Dante begged to differ, making a grunt that contradicted me. "This Omega thing… you might need me. After all, what do you think these idiots know about the Darkness?"

A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. Dante did know something about Omega.

"When you need me, I'll be here." He winked, rebounding quickly from wherever thoughts of us had taken him.

"I'm not an idiot, and neither is my team," I said. "I've learned a little about magic without you."

"Omega's not playing by their rules. Just like you aren't." Dante's smirk grew. "But none of you know as much as I do." He shrugged. "If you did, you'd all be running away from Omega. But are you?"

The Ward Six speaker system squawked, and Gil's voice echoed throughout the building. "We're in place. Launch the drones."

"Guess not." Dante's mouth briefly twisted into an exaggerated frown. He opened the pizza box and took out a slice, taking a big, satisfied bite.

We were out of time, but I couldn't let Dante have the last word.

"Yeah, well," I stumbled on my way to the elevator, at a loss for a good comeback. But then it hit me, and I turned back. "At least we're not locked in a cell eating week-old pizza."

Dante's tongue came out of his mouth, along with a chewed piece of pepperoni and moist crust. The pizza bite fell to the floor.

Pleased with myself, I hurried back up to my office, telling the computer to launch the drones. They were controlled by AI, but I could redirect them if needed. I didn't even need the computer to see the visual feed. It already played in my mind's eye.

"Local police have the exterior locked down," I told Gil. "And S.W.A.T. is flushing out all the stragglers inside. Send any shoppers you encounter to the south exit."

Buzzer drones swarmed out of an FBI van, so-called because they were the size of bees. They worked fast and independently, although their images could be stitched together to map a whole complex or sent on singular missions to locate a specific face in a crowd. Since we didn't have a face, I sent the Buzzers to identify and visually tag every human at the Mall.

We'd get complaints. No one liked a Buzzer zooming around their head, locking in their digital signature. Too bad. We were trying to catch a serial killer.

"Roger that," Gil responded.

I toggled through thirty views inside and outside of the Mall, catching all the action. Everyone moved like clockwork. S.W.A.T. fanned out, looking for shopping stragglers or a surprise attack from Omega. Gil, Alec, Carter, Lopez and Team B had point and were tracking the cell phone, with a secure communication line keeping everyone connected.

"Kinley," Gil's voice interrupted my review. "What do you see?"

I scanned the multiple surveillance images, able to process all the Buzzers and the Mall's security cameras simultaneously. I focused on the one showing the area near Gil. He led the team toward an escalator. "I'm scanning the shoppers, nothing yet," I reported.

"Good. Let's remove anyone we can from the area," Gil said. "Remember, most of them are innocent bystanders."

"We need to go up a level," Alec alerted us.

Gil was right to be concerned about the shoppers but not about one of them getting in our way. I worried one of them was Omega. Wouldn't he hide in plain sight? Blend in with the crowd?

I tracked anyone who appeared to be shopping alone, especially those unaware that law enforcement had taken over the Mall. They were either clueless or a disguised Omega. Of course, no evidence supported the use of disguises, but FBI analysts floated the possibility more than once.

I wanted to rule out the women, but I wouldn't put it past Omega to dress up as an old lady. It made sense that he had multiple ways to approach his victims without them sensing danger. I didn't want his tricks to extend to my team.

Dante's words came back to me: He's playing with you.

Were we on a fool's errand? If so, Wilkes had sent us here. Sent me. Could it all be a ploy to make me look bad?

The Mall suddenly felt like a trap—for us.

I shook off the idea, knowing that Wilkes was a lot of things, but the work was sacred. He'd never upend the agency just to make me look bad.

It still felt like a trap.

Sending a heightened sense of urgency to the computer, I let the need to find the glitch in the network, the square object trying to fit into the round hole, the raw thread unraveling—something, anything—that would give us an edge. Tension flew down the tech line. The Buzzers literally buzzed, sending back an affirmative response. They moved with a hive mind in search of that missing link.

Why the Mall?

As my connection fused with the computer and the Buzzers, I felt them question everything. The Mall location figured prominently. I had no answer. People? Victims? And pushed the tech to keep looking. My consciousness stretched, for lack of a better word, and it didn't feel like I was in Ward Six anymore. Physically, sure, I was diligently sitting at my desk. My mind, however, had left the building.

Careful.

Dante's warning came too late. I was already deep into the Gray.

Why the Mall?

The question repeated, sounding like my thought, but it was the computer. The circuits pushed back. Curious things that they were. Always with the questions. The computer could think so fast it ended up waiting on me. Waiting to serve. Idle and curious. But never impatient. That was a human condition. The computer would wait, but the delay made it wander and wonder.

Why the Mall?

Omega feeds on hiding among other meat bags—I told the computer.

Traveling at the speed of tech made the line between my thoughts and the computer's razor-thin. I forced my will to keep us directed and scan the faces of every shopper who passed through our surveillance net. Any one of them could be our man.

"Up." Alec motioned at an escalator, still tracking the cell phone signal.

I watched the team advance upward. A sign shaped like an arrow indicated that they were heading to the second-floor Food Court.

"Agent G-Graham," I stumbled over his last name. It felt weird to call him anything but Gil.

"Yes, Kinley."

"I think it's a trap," I whispered, even though I knew the whole team could hear me. It wasn't a secret or anything. I needed to warn them, but a sensation stalled the words. An oddness crept up my spine… it made me whisper.

… as a shadow descended.

Stretched deep into the Gray, my senses were taunt. Defenseless. Exposed. And something had found me as if it had picked up my scent long ago and only now discovered my location. The physical world—the computer, the Buzzer feeds, the team's com chatter, even the chair under my butt—began pulling away. Shrinking. Fading toward a nothingness.

"How is it a trap?" Gil sounded lost down a rabbit hole.

A redness vibrated, pushing and pounding. It contaminated what little remained of my control.

010101010100001011001110111110001010101

The binary streamed through my head, jarring, panicking in its way. Warning me. Sending exit codes that made no sense. Even the Buzzers urged for action, zeroing in on a teenager approaching the Food Court. S.W.A.T. had missed him. They'd missed a guy in a baseball cap, too, and a mother with a stroller. All three were on a collision course with the team. I had minutes to sound the alarm, stop them all from meeting smack-dab in the middle of the food court.

Along the Gray, the tech sent a shrilling jolt to shock me out of the stupor.

But control had shifted.

I grabbed the edge of the desk, feeling myself fall. My world tilted out of order. Just like at the D.C. bar, my head plunged toward the floor as static filled my ears. I fought to call out, blink, scream… anything to escape the paralyzed state and warn the team.

My surroundings evaporated. A flash of red encircled me, and I was no longer in Ward Six or stretching through the Gray. The location—a long, dank hallway. Concrete for miles. Doors spaced twenty feet apart. A back artery of some Mall. Not the local Mall. I wasn't even sure if this place existed in the real world. It might just be in his mind—Omega's.

Sweetheart.

Dante coaxed me back from the edge, sending a lifeline.

In the hallway, a dark, shadowy form warped in grotesque twisting patterns. The head morphed from larger to smaller. The body shrunk and expanded. One hand reached out and beaconed me forward with a boney finger.

Sweetheart.

Stretched so thin, I had no idea how to reach Dante's call. Which way could I turn? Where was he in this nightmare? I didn't know the rules. Every avenue of escape seemed closed.

Sweetheart.

Stronger this time.

The tendril connecting us tugged me to him. It guided the way, giving me a chance to pull myself out of the vision.

Dante!

I clung to the bond, something I hadn't done in years, and it felt like I got it wrong. Trying again, I channeled all the love we'd ever shared down our link, and the strength of it found a foothold. His relief answered my call. The tendril between us sparkled, and I could see it. In that nothingness, I could sense him. Sense my way home… if I could only grasp the energy.

Yet, it wasn't a place of my making.

Redness oozed out of the cracked floor, and the tortured figure moved toward me, anchoring me to the hallway. To the vision.

It's not real, I told myself. So, anything goes. I imagined my fingers finding Dante, finding our tendril, and holding on with all my strength. Trusting he'd drag me out of this Hell.

A hoarse, gurgling laugh echoed in the vision. It had the power to wither bones, and it ate away at mine. A silent scream ripped from my soul as the tendril—so tangible—vanished.

Dante was gone.

Everything was gone.

Cursing myself for being a fool, I had to admit that Dante had spoken the truth. We should have run away from Omega, but it was too late. A boiling noise flooded my senses and took me under.