“Don’t be so sure about that,” he shot back, getting to his feet. His legs were rubbery and he grabbed the back of the couch for support. “It’s not like you’ve been exactly transparent with me.”
Parker followed his lead and stood. He, too, braced himself against the couch. “Show a little more respect and maybe I would be.”
Mick stepped between them. “Stop! We’re way beyond petty finger pointing.” She looked at Parker. “Here’s the deal, dude. I’m all in, whatever that means. Whatever it takes. You can trust me.”
For a long moment the two stared at one another. Zach figured if Parker didn’t capitulate, Mick might go the handcuffs route again.
But he did capitulate, though not without a heavy sigh. “I need a drink. And frankly, you will too.”
They assembled around the kitchen table. Parker set a bottle of scotch and three glasses in the center. He poured himself two fingers and indicated they should help themselves. Mick declined and Zach decided on more water instead.
Parker sipped. After a moment, he set down his glass and looked at them. “What I’m about to tell you, very few people know. Even among the gifted.”
“And here I am, an ordinary schmuck,” Mick muttered. “Don’t I feel special.”
“Actually,” Parker said, expression deadpan, “Zach’s the one who’s special.”
“Why?”
Zach realized what he meant. “Because I can see whatever that thing is.”
“Yes. And connect with its energy.” Parker lifted his glass. The amber-colored liquid rippled, catching the light. “As human beings, we believe in what our five senses tell us is real. We need to prove things based on scientific fact. When we can’t, it doesn’t exist. Or we fabricate beings to explain what we can’t understand.”
“Such as?”
“Vampires are currently popular.”
“The wound I saw on Knight,” Zach said. “Near her throat. Like a bite.”
“But not.”
“Can ordinary people see it?” Micki asked.
He nodded. “But it disappears so quickly, it’s as if it never was.”
Zach looked at Mick. “Not so crazy now, am I?”
She didn’t laugh. “Thinking maybe I’m crazy. Or having some trippy PTSD flashback.”
“I can assure you, Detective Dare, you’re not tripping. These things are real. The history of art is well-stocked with attempts to give them physical form. Henry Fuseli’s masterpiece The Nightmare is one of my favorites. Delacroix comes to mind, as does de Goya. Gargoyles and Griffins. The grim reaper. Every period to the present day.”
Parker paused. Zach realized he was holding his breath, and slowly released it. “So what the hell are they, P?”
“We call them Dark Bearers. And they want us dead.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Tuesday, July 16
8:45 P.M.
Micki stared at the two men. She realized her hands were shaking and dropped them to her lap. Was this really happening? She’d seen a whole lot of screwed-up stuff in her time on the force. But it’d all been real world shit—here and now, touch it, feel it, wrap her frickin’ mind around it.
But this? Murdering, non-physical entities that few could see? A partner who could transmit energy through his hands and—oh-by-the-way—glow in the dark as well?
A part of her figured she should pack up her toys and go home. Who needed badges, guns, and the investigative process when there were super-human freaks like these around?
The other part acknowledged this was the coolest thing she’d ever been involved with.
Zach reached for the scotch. She asked him to pour her one as well. He did and set it in front of her. Without speaking, they simultaneously sipped. The alcohol burned; her thoughts raced.
“Why,” she asked. “Why kill Brite Knight? Why want Zach dead?”
“Simple. We pose a threat to their existence. Only we can stop them.”
“We,” Mick repeated, “as in the gifted. Hence, the Sixers.”
“Yes.”
“And that thing you two were doing before, all you special folk can share like that?”
“No. Zach and I are the only two I know of. But there may be others.”
She digested that. “What’re you called?”
“Who? Zach and I?”
“People like you. Like Brite Knight. The gifted.”
“Human beings.”
“That’s not what I mean. Dark Bearers have a name—or, at least you’ve given them a name.”
“So?”
“So, what do they call you?”
“I don’t know that they call us anything.”
He was still withholding information. She sensed Zach thought the same thing. “How’d they kill Knight?”
“Caused her to go into cardiac arrest.”
“How?”
“It’s what they do.”
“Not good enough, Agent Parker.”
“It’ll have to be, Detective Dare. How they do it isn’t germane to this investigation.”
She let it pass, though she would’ve loved to argue. “What does this thing, this Dark Bearer, want with Gomez, Miller, and Putnam?”
He frowned and stood. “You’ll have to excuse me, Quantico’s calling.”
A split second later his phone went off. Freaking amazing, she thought, watching as he stepped out of the room.
She turned to find Zach studying her. She cocked an eyebrow. “What?”