by Laken Cane
Jamie Stone’s.
Jamie was the Byrdcage warden’s son. Was being the operative word, since Warden Stone was dead, and the man responsible for this death was standing beside Al with a collar around his throat.
“Hey, Trinity,” Al said, smiling.
“Al!” I glanced at Jamie once again, my smile slipping, before I gave Alejandro a quick hug. “It’s about time you came to see us.”
Despite the fact that Jamie Stone had been responsible for killing dozens of humans—and supernaturals—and destroying the Byrdcage, no one was looking for him.
Apparently, no one knew.
For the last two weeks, the news had been full of little else. Grieving families, speculation, and an excuse to be even rougher than usual on the Bay Town supernats.
Because a supernatural had killed the guards, the warden, even the supernatural prisoners. A supernatural had exploded the Byrdcage.
At least that was what the humans thought.
There were no signs of explosives anywhere on the island.
I knew the truth. I knew the warden’s son had been responsible for the Byrd Island tragedy, as the humans called it. I’d been there.
His father had apparently perished in a fire in one of the buildings, and I was pretty sure killing Warden Stone was part of Jamie’s plan. Maybe all of it.
But I wouldn’t be the one to judge Jamie Stone.
Again, I glanced at the silent man. He didn’t look at me—didn’t lift his gaze from the porch floor. “Are you okay, Jamie?”
“He’s doing well,” Al said mildly, answering for him. A stranger peered out of his dark eyes, and for a second I didn’t recognize him.
Then he grinned, and suddenly, he was Al again. “Is Rhys around, by any chance? I can’t raise him on his cell.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know where he is.” I opened the door wider and stepped back. “Come on in and wait for him.”
But he turned to watch as a police car sped down the long driveway toward us, watchful and silent. Jamie’s body stiffened.
Al tugged gently on the lead. “No.”
That was all he said, but Jamie relaxed immediately and a whisper of a sigh floated from between his lips.
“It’s the captain,” I murmured.
“We’ll visit more with you later,” Al told me, smiling slightly. He walked away, then turned back before he reached the bottom of the steps. “I’ll take this one home and scout around a little for Rhys.”
I frowned. “You’re worried?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “These are worrying times, Trinity. Rhys is never out of reach for long.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.” But I pulled my cell phone out and called Rhys as I watched Alejandro lead Jamie away.
It went to his voicemail. “Rhys, damn it. Call me.” I slid the phone back into my pocket and went reluctantly to meet Captain Crawford.
Frank climbed from his car and leaned against it, watching as Al settled Jamie into the back seat of his car. Al gave the captain a nod before he got into the driver’s side, but Frank simply watched him, impassive, his arms crossed.
He hadn’t called ahead to ask if I could see him, and it pissed me off just a little.
Or maybe I wasn’t pissed off. Maybe I was afraid of what he was there to tell me.
And things had been so weird between us lately.
“Captain.” I leaned against his car with him and both of us looked everywhere but at each other. I was pretty sure neither of us knew why.
“You keep strange company, Sinclair,” he said, as Al tapped his horn and drove away from the way station.
“Yeah, but you keep showing up. What am I going to do?” I shrugged and grinned.
He didn’t so much as crack a smile.
I sighed. “I need to return your car.”
“Keep it.”
“I can’t keep your car, Frank.”
“I don’t need it.”
I studied him. He looked tired, but he always looked tired. There was something else in his eyes. “Bad news?” I asked him.
He blew out a hard breath, then surprised me by reaching out to squeeze my arm. “The mayor is causing trouble for the supernaturals. He wants to begin marking them, Trinity.”
My hands started shaking and I couldn’t figure out what to do with them. Finally, I tucked them under my arms. “Marking them how?”
“Tattoos, mostly.”
“And if they refuse?”
He looked away from me. “They’ll be taken in and put down. He’s convincing the city that it’s the only way, and they’re inclined to listen to him. Especially after the supernats destroyed the prison. He wants a quick way to visually identify them.”
My stomach hurt. Hatred rose inside me so fiercely and quickly that I was overwhelmed by it. I wanted to kill him. Kill the messenger. It wasn’t his fault, really, I guess. But his words…
“Put down,” I snarled. “Like rabid animals.”
“Mayor Delaney is worried because of the escapes and the deaths on Byrd Island. He claims it’s a matter of time before they attack the city with their—”
I waved a hand in disgust and interrupted him. “Their corrupt, dangerous magic. I watch the news. His face is everywhere.”
“The humans trust him.”
“He’s a pig.”
“Maybe,” he said calmly. “But he has his supporters.”
“They can’t force them to be branded.” My voice was heavy and full of tears. Full of suppressed rage. Full of frustration. “They can’t keep kicking them and not expect them to fight back.”
“I’m sorry, Trinity.”
What could we do?
Nothing. Nothing at all.
The supernaturals couldn’t move off and try to find a new place. Things weren’t better in other cities and besides, Bay Town was where they belonged. Bay Town was in their blood. Its magic was in their hearts. It was theirs.
We’d known the city was discussing marking the supernats. I hadn’t believed it would happen, but the supernaturals had. They didn’t talk about it much, but it was there in their eyes.
They’d known what was coming.
“That’s not all,” Crawford murmured.
“What the hell else is there?”
His throat jerked as he swallowed, almost convulsively, and I knew bad shit was coming. Worse shit.
“Tell me,” I whispered.
“The city will be encouraging the supernaturals to petition for…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then continued. “Fosters. They can work for or pay a human to take them as a ward. There will be leash laws.”
“Because we can’t have strays roaming the streets,” I said, deadly calm as my blood froze like ice in my veins. “Someone—some human—has to own the supernaturals.”
“It’s for—”
I interrupted him. “If you say it’s for their own good, I will drop you where you stand.”
He didn’t back down, just gave me his blank cop eyes and continued. “If they’re fostered by a human—especially an influential human—they’ll be safer than they’ve ever been. If a human claims them, they’ll be protected. And the humans will see them as less of a threat if they’re handled by a human foster.”
“Like dogs,” I said. “Leashed by a human handler, so they won’t seem like such big, vicious, unmanaged dogs. Owned.”
He looked he might say something, but in the end, he kept his mouth shut.
“He wants to make them slaves,” I continued hoarsely, as the reality of it sank in. “Leash laws. Killed if they refuse to allow the humans to…” I paused and looked at him. “Where are they branded? Hands? Arms?”
“Face,” he murmured. “Foreheads or cheeks. Their choice. So it can’t be hidden. Trinity…”
“What else?”
“A larger fee will be required for supernaturals to stay in Bay Town. A much larger fee.”
“And for those who can’t afford it…”
He did
n’t look at me. “The city is aware that some of the nonhumans have wealth secreted away. The well-off may pay the fees for those who don’t have the money.” His face was blank, his voice close to a monotone, as though he knew he had to get everything out at once, even if he didn’t want to say the words. “The unclaimed supernaturals will be—”
“Go away, Captain,” I said. “Please, just go away.”
But as he opened his car door, I shouted. “I claim them. Go back and tell the city that the Bay Town supernaturals are claimed by me. If any of you touch them, we will destroy you. Tell them.”
Angus pulled into the driveway, and when I met his gaze through the windshield, he closed his eyes in a long, tired blink. Then he climbed out of his truck and strode to me.
Under the captain’s blank stare, he leaned over and kissed me. “You all right, sweetheart?”
“No,” I told him. “Not really.”
Angus turned to the captain. “I’ll have your car returned to you today.”
Crawford’s lips thinned. “She can keep it.”
“No,” Angus said. “She can’t.”
They stared at each other until the captain sighed. “I’m not the enemy here. I’m just passing along the news.” He looked at me, finally, and his face softened. “I know how hard it is to hear it.”
But there was no way he knew. Not really. And was it possible that part of him enjoyed it just a little bit? He wasn’t devastated. He wasn’t saying he would fight with us, fight against the horrifying new rules. He was just delivering the message.
“The city needs me,” I told him, regaining my calm. That calmness could have had something to do with Angus’s presence and his warm hand at the small of my back. He steadied me. All of the supernaturals did. “You need to remind them of that.”
He looked away from me for just a second, but that was enough. There was something he didn’t want to tell me. Finally, though, he did. “You’re not safe, Trinity. You need to be careful.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He means,” Angus said, “that you and Shane have slaughtered most of the vampires that the sickness didn’t kill. The city thinks it can do without your protection. He means you don’t have as much influence as you once did, and the humans—the mayor—will not hesitate to cut you down if you fuck with them.” He looked at Crawford. “Does that about cover it?”
The captain glared at Angus, but finally, he just shrugged. “Yeah. Tread carefully, Trinity. It’s not to that point yet, but it’s coming.” He hesitated before he got into his car. “I’ll send someone for the car.”
“Thank you for lending it to me,” I said, automatically polite. But my mind was on the changes that were coming. No, not coming. They’d already arrived.
Angus and I watched as the captain drove away, and then Angus pulled me to him. “Trin.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and inhaled, drawing in his warm, irresistible scent. “The city wants to mark the supernaturals,” I whispered, almost unable to get the words out. “The mayor—”
He tightened his arms. “I know, honey.”
I looked up at him. “What?”
He smiled at my surprise. “I’m not without my sources.”
“It can’t happen,” I told him. “None of it can happen.”
“No,” he agreed. “We’ll fight. It’s time.”
Of course we’d fight. No one was helpless in Bay Town, and there was only so much we were willing to take. We would fight. Relieved and full of hope, I smiled. “We will fight."
I drew back at the approach of another car, then watched as a black as night, unfamiliar, shiny new SUV pulled into the driveway.
One of Angus’s daughters got out of the car, her smile wide.
“Derry,” I said. “That is one sharp car. Late birthday gift from your dad?” I grinned at Angus, who watched me with a slight smile and a soft gaze.
She hurried toward me and gave me an excited hug. “Isn’t it a beauty? I helped pick it out.” She looked at Angus. “Can I tell her?”
He nodded, still smiling.
“It’s for you,” Derry said. “We bought it for you. To thank you.”
I put my hand to my chest and stared at both of them. “You did not,” I breathed. “Did you?”
Both of them laughed, and Derry jumped up and down. “Get in. You have to drive it. It’s amazing. I’ll ride shotgun!” She hurried back to the car and climbed into the passenger seat.
“Angus.” I shook my head, my eyes wide. “But how?” Angus was a recent escapee from Byrd Island. He wasn’t going to be throwing loads of cash around and drawing attention to himself. Not for a while.
He gave me a wink. “Rhys is not the only one with human groupies.”
“You seriously bought me a car.” I turned to look at it. “That car.”
He took my arm. “I don’t want you owing Crawford a favor. Do you like it?”
I should have said I couldn’t accept such a gift. I should have thanked him and suggested gently that he return it to the store.
“I love it,” I shouted. “Oh, my God. It’s gorgeous!”
I grabbed his hand and dragged him laughing to the car, then caressed the exterior like it was a lover. “Angus. My first new car. I can’t…it’s just…thank you.”
He opened the door. “Get in.”
Derry chattered like a magpie, and I oohed and ahhed as I listened to her and touched the bells and whistles and inhaled the new car smell.
“Even Leo will fit in this car,” I told Angus, smiling so hard my cheeks ached.
His eyes gleamed. “Take Derry home. I’ll expect a proper thank you when you get back.”
I climbed back out of the car and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Thank you, Angus.”
“Trin.” His voice was a little sad. He squeezed me, then slapped my ass. “Take her for a spin. Go on.”
I didn’t waste time arguing. I got in, started my shiny new car and sped away. I was grateful for the distraction of the gift and Derry’s excited chatter, but still, the captain’s words lingered at the back of my mind, waiting for their chance to darken a grim world that was already far too shadowed by pain and desolation.
Chapter Three
Don’t Look at Me
I dropped Derry off and headed back to Angus, music blaring, windows down, unable not to speed in the powerful SUV. For that moment, as sweet-smelling air ran exuberant fingers through my short hair, I relaxed.
My cell rang before I could return to my waiting werebull and I sighed, figuring my moment of peace was about to end.
I was right.
“Hello?” I didn’t recognize the number, but that wouldn’t keep me from answering.
“Ms. Sinclair?” The voice was young, female, and hesitant.
“Yes, this is Trinity. How can I help you?” I heard shouting in the background—and the hard voices of angry men—and fear tightened my stomach.
“Um, I’m on Clermont Street. 1352 Clermont. There’s a supernatural in trouble and I don’t like to see people being mean to one of them. I mean, they’re hurting him. The cops took his guns, which is what started it. Now there’s a whole crowd.”
I made a U-turn and kicked the gas. “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“I think it’ll be too late in fifteen minutes.”
“Call 911.”
“The cops are already here. They’re not doing anything.”
“Is he fighting back?” I ground my teeth as traffic thickened and slowed me down.
“Yes. And he injured a few of them. But more people…oh my God…you should hurry.”
I blasted my horn as I called Clayton. “Move,” I yelled. “Out of the way, assholes!”
“Trinity,” Clayton answered.
“You’re okay,” I said. “Can you check on Rhys and Shane?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Clermont Street,” I told him. “I need backup.”
“I’m not far from
Clermont. I’ll see you there.”
I hung up and called Crawford. “Frank,” I cried, when he answered. “One of the supernats is in trouble. He’s—”
“I know. I’m on my way.”
“Call your cops and tell them to control the humans,” I barked.
Then I hung up and concentrated on getting to the city to do what I could to save a supernatural whose worth was less to the humans than a blob of rotting roadkill.
When I arrived at Clermont, I spotted a couple of cop cars parked along the street and saw a group of humans, their bodies blocking the fight.
I jumped from my car and sprinted down the sidewalk, my heart in my throat. I didn’t want to see any supernatural in trouble—but in the forefront of my mind was the terror that it was one of mine.
“Hey,” a man yelled, when I shoved him out of my way. I heard thuds of fists on flesh—I knew well the sickening sounds of a beating—and the memory of Angus being brutalized by a few savage cops battered my mind.
“Move,” I screamed, and when people got a look at my face, they made a path for me. Maybe because they knew who I was, or maybe because they wanted to see what kind of interesting new drama I would instigate.
Or maybe they just wanted me to help the victim—supernatural or not.
I heard sirens shrieking, drawing closer by the second. Crawford was coming. I wasn’t going to wait for him. He could have ordered his cops to interfere, but as I finally shoved my way to the fight, I saw the cops standing with their arms crossed, doing fuck-all to stop the attack.
One of the attackers leaned forward, dragged the supernatural from the pavement, then held him up so another human could punch him in the face.
The supernatural was Rhys Graver.
I screamed, almost mindless with fury as I witnessed the brutality.
God, I was so tired of it.
I felt Silverlight inside me. My flesh rippled—and it was painful, but I didn’t care—as she woke up and came to my call. I shot my hand out and the crowd screamed and recoiled as there was suddenly a huge, flashing, deadly sword in my grip.
Silverlight was part of me. An extension of me. We’d melded the night of the bonding in Willow-Wisp, and she had changed. No longer was she only a vampire killer.