Peacemaker (Silverlight Book 3)

by Laken Cane

  There it was. That was the fear. For some reason, it was concentrated on Shane, the least likely of the bunch to be hurt. He wasn’t even the most vulnerable. Clayton was. Yet my fear was for Shane.

  “We’ll protect each other,” Clayton said. “This is not on you, Trinity.”

  Leo said nothing, just dug into his chicken. He still didn’t feel like he was one of us, and I knew there was no rushing it. If it happened, it’d happen when it was time.

  “You need to hunt,” Rhys told me.

  Deep inside I felt vibrations from Silverlight. She was thirsty for the taste of vampire blood, same as I was. I didn’t try to fight my brutal, vicious need. It was part of me, and I’d accepted that long ago.

  I was a hunter. A bloodhunter.

  Bloodhunters weren’t finicky little girls.

  But there was only one vampire in Bay Town, and I wasn’t killing him.

  Oh, likely there were a few more, hiding in the shadows of the woods. Surely some of the healthy vampires had escaped the island. But the city never saw them. I never saw them. I could follow some lingering fog trails and hunt them down and kill them, but that…

  I shook my head.

  I wasn’t a murderer. Not really.

  The vampires had to give me a reason to kill them.

  My cell rang and I dug it from my pocket. “Captain?”

  “Something is happening in the city. You and your hunter need to get here now.”

  “What is it?”

  “Vampire attack,” he said, grimly. “At least I think they’re vampires. They’re…different. A dozen of them. We need you, Trinity.”

  Relief rushed through me and I went into hunter mode immediately. I welcomed it with open arms. “Shane. Vampires in the city. Let’s go.”

  He shoved his chair back and we jogged from the dining room together, bloodlust already beginning to swirl around us like dusty, eager clouds.

  We grabbed vests from the coatrack by the front door, shrugged into them, then headed out. Shane’s shotgun was in his truck, and both our vehicles were outfitted with anything we might need. Leo had stocked my car, transferring my stuff from the loaner and replenishing depleted supplies. I didn’t interfere. He needed to do things to make himself feel useful and I understood that.

  “I’ll drive,” Shane told me, striding toward his truck.

  “I’ll drive. My new car needs some dust on her.”

  He didn’t argue, just grabbed weapons from his truck and then jogged to my car. He gave a low whistle of appreciation when he climbed inside. “Gift from Angus?”

  “Yes.” I eyed him, wondering if he was about to say something biting.

  He buckled up. “Sweet.”

  I grinned. “Crawford said there are at least a dozen vampires. They’re attacking, and…” I paused, frowning. “He said they were different. I’m not sure what he meant.”

  Shane patted his shotgun. “Looking forward to finding out. Betty is in need of some action.”

  “So am I,” I muttered. Then, “But a group of healthy vampires?”

  “Could have traveled in from other cities.”

  “The infection spread everywhere, not just Red Valley.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe they’re the ones that escaped the island.”

  Whatever. We were about to fight.

  I gave a loud whoop and sped out of Bay Town, and it wasn’t long before the sounds of shrieking sirens reached my ears. I followed them into the heart of the city, where the humans had only recently begun to brave the night once again.

  And in the city was chaos.

  A flash of paleness streaked across the street in front of me, there and gone. “So fast,” I whispered, partly awed, partly enraged. No infected could move like that.

  Shane unbuckled and slid forward in his seat, his eyes narrowed as another one raced past my car. “Look in the alleys. And there, behind the van.”

  My heart was beating out of my chest, partly from fear, mostly from excitement. “At least they’re staying together. That’ll make it easier for us. But they’re huge.”

  Humans rushed down the sidewalks and into the streets, brakes squealed as oncoming traffic had to stop for fleeing pedestrians, and people spilled from the doorways of bars, restaurants, and shops.

  And even as I parked the car and we jumped from the vehicle, I saw a vampire rush from an apartment and take down the humans he’d chased into the street.

  “Vampires are in the homes,” I said, stunned. Vampires couldn’t go into houses. They just couldn’t.

  Not unless they were invited in.

  I groaned as Silverlight snaked through my body and took possession of my arm, but the pain was over in a few seconds. Eventually, I’d get used to that particular feeling. I hoped.

  Shane looped Betty’s strap over his chest and pulled two long, silver blades from the sheaths at his sides. As a hunter, he could have killed vampires with a sharp stick if he’d wanted to, but gleaming silver blades were so much cooler.

  “Let’s kill some vampires.” And then he was running toward a group of vampires as they fell upon two human women, his blades flashing.

  God, he was sexy.

  I forced my attention away from my hunter and put it on the fight.

  And finally, I got a good look at the vampires’ faces.

  Crawford was right. They were different. They were like caricatures of vampires, almost. Huge and ugly, with coarse, flat features and long, matted wads of hair. And their teeth.

  Vampires had a couple of sharp fangs.

  These vampires had huge, red mouths, wide and gaping, and they were full of fangs.

  The police could do nothing but try to ward off vampires with blades and shock batons—they couldn’t use their guns with humans milling about, any more than Shane could use Betty.

  Policemen died.

  People died.

  Swinging Silverlight, I waded into the battle.

  But her light didn’t hurt them.

  It didn’t hurt them at all.

  They were starving. Not mad, or sick, or full of infected rage. Just hungry, mean, and ready to fight.

  And my sword’s halo did not hurt them.

  Her blade did, though.

  They turned from the humans and almost as mindlessly as infecteds, they advanced on me, eager to kill me so they could go back to eating.

  “Shane,” I yelled.

  “I’m here, baby hunter.”

  We faced off against the advancing vampires as from tall buildings on either side of us, humans watched. Scared but fascinated, I had no doubt.

  A man screamed, and Shane and I charged the vampires. They were fast—so fast—but killing vampires was what we did. We’d been up against fast vampires before.

  We could handle them.

  And they fell, their hunger unappeased, confusion in their faces even as they became piles of bone and dirty clothes.

  They did not turn to ash, but I had no time to be stunned by that.

  One lone vampire streaked after a human who was half a block away from him, and he would have reached her in a few short seconds had I not released Silverlight. She whirled through the air after him, and not even the vampires were as fast as my sword.

  She sliced through him and even before he hit the pavement, she was back in my hand.

  And that felt good.

  The pandemonium felt good. Wrong, but good.

  Maybe I wouldn’t admit that to anyone but myself.

  In the end, with a swiftness that was startling, the vampires were gone. And though even my kills remained to litter the streets, they were just as dead as the piles of ash Silverlight normally left.

  People flung themselves at Shane and me, and I had a second to send Silverlight back inside before sobbing, terrified humans knocked me off my feet in their desperation to reach someone who could protect them.

  “I’m alive,” a man shrieked, before bursting into loud, shocked tears.

  Then a large hand burst th
rough the crying humans, yanked me through the air, and set me on my feet.

  The half-giant.

  “Leo! What are you doing here?”

  “We thought you might need some help.”

  “We?” I dusted myself off as Leo held up a hand to hold off the frightened humans. Shane had disappeared, likely more afraid of the clingy humans than he’d ever been of a vampire.

  My werebull charged toward me, tossing his wickedly sharp, oddly changed horns, his dark hugeness causing me to lose my breath for a second. He shifted before he reached me, then gave me a wink and a grin. Still, his stare was sharp as he raked it over my body, checking me for injuries.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  “Not even a scratch.” But I was worried.

  Something was wrong. The vampires were wrong.

  Captain Crawford strode toward me, two cops at his back. The city was painfully loud with the disturbing cacophony of piercing, wailing sirens and shrill voices and hysterical, sobbing humans as we stood in the aftermath of that unexpected vampire attack.

  “I’ll see you at home,” Angus told me, then took off. Being a naked supernatural in a city that had just been hurt by nonhumans was not a good idea. I watched him go, then my gaze caught on something else.

  Someone else.

  Clayton.

  He stood under a streetlight, his body stiff, his fists clenched, and my heart lurched. I’d seen him in that very pose when he’d belonged to Miriam Crow.

  I started toward him but Crawford grabbed my arm. “Trinity.”

  I dragged my stare from Clayton and put my attention on the captain and the cops who stood beside him. They were still scared—their eyes were too wide, their bodies twitchy, and they sidled a little closer to me as they kept a watchful eye to the shadows.

  “They’re gone, Captain,” I told him.

  “Thank you,” one of the cops said. “You saved our lives.”

  Crawford nodded. “She did,” he agreed. “She and her hunter.”

  “And the supernaturals with me,” I told them. “I’m not your only protection against the vampires. Or whatever those things were.”

  “That was some insane shit,” the other cop said, his head constantly moving as he watched for vampires. “Attacking like that…”

  And something good came of the vampire attack. I had leverage once again. The city would certainly realize it still needed me.

  “What the hell happened?” Crawford asked. “Those weren’t sick vampires.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know where they came from or why they were healthy.” Or why they were different.

  “Most of our vampires were either destroyed or in hiding,” one of the cops told me. “You helped kill some of them. Did they just rise up from the ground, healed?”

  “Not just healed,” the other cop said. “Mutated. Did you see their teeth?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll find out what I can. Maybe there won’t be more of them, but until we know for sure, the humans should stay inside when the sun goes down.”

  “Most of the victims were wearing silver,” Crawford noted.

  “Silver wasn’t stopping these vampires,” I said. “It didn’t affect them at all.”

  “That’s impossible.” But he’d seen. He knew it wasn’t impossible.

  “You mean they’re immune?” one of the cops squeaked. “To silver?”

  Crawford blew out a hard breath. “A couple of the homes had vampires inside, Sinclair. How do you explain that?”

  “They can mesmerize humans. Maybe they commanded the humans to invite them in.”

  One of the cops put a fist to his mouth, and the other one muttered darkly.

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s just that easy.”

  “Why didn’t they do shit like this before?” Crawford asked.

  “Maybe because before, the vampires and the supernaturals were able to live in a sort of…peace with the humans.” My voice was cold and hard, and I didn’t care. They should know they were being judged. They should know that tonight was their fault. “Now, the humans are persecuting the nonhumans more than ever—and they aren’t going to take that shit. Not just the vampires, but the supernaturals. You guys are going to get a war you might win, eventually, but it will cost you.”

  I was making things up as I went, but they didn’t seem to know that.

  No one said a word.

  I lifted my chin and stared them down. “You think about that, Captain. You carry the events of this night back to Mayor Delaney, and you ask him if he thinks it’ll be worth it. The city needs me, after all, doesn’t it? But I won’t be rushing in to save the humans if those humans are trying to destroy supernaturals.”

  I strode away, and I could feel his stare following me as I went to talk to Clayton.

  Chapter Six

  Too Big for Words

  I really had no idea what was going on with the vampires. I was as clueless as the humans. But if they believed that Shane, the supernaturals, and I could control the bloodsuckers and protect the city, then the Red Valley supernaturals would be as safe as I could make them.

  I caught sight of Rhys and Leo heading toward Rhys’s car, and I held up a finger to let them know I’d be following them soon.

  Rhys blew me a kiss and then he and Leo trotted down the already empty street and disappeared behind an ambulance.

  No one had wasted time getting off the streets, and the dead humans had been loaded up and carted away. The silence and emptiness after such chaos was disorienting.

  Clayton stood over a couple of dead vampires. I touched his back, then slid my hand down his arm and gripped his hand. “Hey.”

  He turned his head slowly and met my quizzical stare. His eyes were a little wide and full of something I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen in Clayton. Pure joy, I thought, mixed in with a little dose of disbelief.

  He pointed at the dead vampires with the blade he held in his right hand. “I did that.” His voice was hoarse. “Trinity, I did that.”

  I tightened my grip on his hand. “What? Does that mean…”

  “I’m a hunter. I’m back. I didn’t lose it, it was just…”

  “It was buried beneath the horror of Miriam,” I said softly. “You’re a hunter.” And as soon as I said it, I felt it. He did, as well. He shuddered, and something electric ran from his hand to mine.

  “Mine,” I breathed. “My hunter.”

  He slid his blade back into its sheath, then pulled me into his embrace. He buried his mouth against the side of my neck and said nothing.

  It was too big for words.

  When he released me, Shane was there, watching both of us.

  The two hunters stared at each other, then Shane held out his hand. Clayton grasped it and they did an almost not awkward bro hug sort of thing, and I couldn’t help but laugh even as tears sprang to my eyes.

  They grinned, and then, hunters all, we walked to our cars. We should have been grim—humans had died there that night.

  I wasn’t sure what it said about us that we could laugh. I suppose that was what happened when you saw enough horror.

  When we pulled into the way station driveway, Angus’s truck wasn’t there. He divided his time between the way station and his house. I wouldn’t get upset about that—he had children who needed him—but I missed him when he wasn’t with me.

  Jin caught me when I walked into the house. “I have a message for you from Angus.”

  I hung my vest on the coatrack. “What’s the message?”

  “He said to call him if you need him, and that you should find the vampire master.”

  I nodded. I’d already planned on discussing the attack with Amias. I studied the Jikininki. “Jin, will you be here forever?”

  A spark of fear flared in his eyes. “I will try.”

  “If it’s up to me,” I told him, “you’re welcome to stay for as long as you want. This is your home.”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it and cr
ept from the room.

  Jin didn’t look like a man, exactly. It was as though several different parts had been sewn together to create a suit of flesh for a very strange creature. At times his body wavered and I could almost see through it, as though he were more ghost than solid, tangible being.

  One moment he might show sharp, crowded, bloody teeth, and the next there would be a bottomless black hole where his face should have been. Sometimes he was bald, sometimes his hair hung dark and tangled to his waist.

  There were even times when he looked like a man—sharp nose, somewhat thin lips, and quick blue eyes. He attempted to wear that particular look the most, probably because it was the most acceptable.

  The Jikininki really was eager to please. Wherever he’d come from, it must have been quite terrifying.

  I headed toward the kitchen. My dinner had been interrupted and I was starving. The others were already in there—I could hear them laughing and the sound of silverware clinking on plates—and I was eager to join them. They’d abandoned the dining room for the kitchen and the big table there, and had likely pulled a hodgepodge of cold food from the fridge upon which to feast.

  It wasn’t only the food that drew me to the kitchen. I craved being with those men more than I craved any food.

  I’d eat, then I’d find Amias. He would be inside Willow-Wisp. Since he’d discovered the place—and the sun—he’d been reluctant to leave it.

  It was as though he believed he might not be permitted back inside if he left. But he’d had two weeks to allow the sun to burn away the darkness. It was time for him to get back to being the master vampire of Red Valley, and I would need his help with the sudden invasion of healthy vampires.

  When I entered the kitchen, I found Clayton eating colorful cereal from the largest bowl I’d ever seen, Leo with half a cooked chicken carcass in his hand, and Shane and Rhys arm wrestling.

  “Oh my God,” I said, my hands on my hips. “You all are such…” I shook my head. “Such…”

  “Men?” Rhys asked, helpfully.

  “Yes. That’s exactly the word.” Smiling, I headed for the fridge to find myself some leftovers to heat up.