by Laken Cane
“How dare you,” Nadine roared. She started toward Shane and before I knew I was going to move, I found myself standing between her and my hunter.
“You won’t touch him,” I said.
Her power was as great as her anger. It rushed over me in a wave of terrorizing blackness, just as it had the last time I’d pissed her off.
Amias caught me when I stumbled back, his body solid and familiar behind me, and he wrapped his arms around me. “Trinity,” he murmured, his voice sliding into my ear.
That was all he said, but I latched onto his voice, onto that word, and it gave my mind something to focus on besides the terror of Nadine’s power.
And I found my own anger. I didn’t step away from Amias. I needed his steadying influence. But I straightened, and I traded my fear for anger. I curled my lip at Nadine. “What’s the difference between the humans’ oppression and yours? We have our thoughts and our wishes and our worries, and we will ask our questions and make our demands. We won’t be slaves to the humans and we won’t be slaves to you.”
“You are not we,” she screamed, shaking with the force of her outrage. She pointed at Shane. “He is not we!”
I thought I would die, then, as her eyes bulged and she lifted her hands, her fingers curled into claws, an almost visible power swirling around her. I thought I would die.
My men rushed toward me and the crowd fell back, gasping. Amias lifted me against his body and half turned, as though to shield me from Nadine’s raging power.
I threw myself away from him because Silverlight was coming, and my mind was too scattered to stop her. She burned a furious path through me and shot into my hand, and her killing light lit up the night.
Seconds, that was all it took. Seconds, and the peace of Willow-Wisp changed to confusion and disorder. Pandemonium.
But then, in the middle of it, Himself stood from his throne, thumped his stick on the ground, and spoke. “Stop.”
Everyone froze, including Nadine. Not even she would—or could—disobey him. I didn’t think it was possible.
I was shaking so hard my teeth clattered, and I clenched my jaw to stop them. And because I had absolutely no wish to kill anyone there, I forced Silverlight back inside. Then I stared at the ground, unable to look Himself in the eye.
“Trinity,” he said, calmly. “Look at me.”
I put my wavering stare on him and waited. That was all I could do.
Angus and the others stood close, tense and watchful. I wasn’t sure what they would do if Himself decided to give me to Nadine.
Or what they could do.
“We will not fight amongst ourselves,” Himself said. “You will all be calm.”
Nadine stepped back to her place beside his throne and the crowd relaxed. I could feel it happening, where a moment ago there’d been only alarm and tension.
The vampires weren’t the only ones skilled in the fine art of mindfucking.
“Ask your questions,” Himself said quietly. Kindly.
Questions? What questions? I couldn’t remember.
Later, I’d remember. But right then, the King of Everything was pressing against the thin walls of my mind like a forceful man trying to take a frightened virgin, and I was not willing to give myself to him.
I wanted no ruler. I wanted no dictator.
“It only hurts if you resist,” someone said. Maybe it was the king’s voice. Maybe it was mine.
Nadine was right. I wasn’t one of the supernaturals. Not really.
I wasn’t one of the vampires.
And I wasn’t one of the humans.
I was an outsider.
Himself broke through, and I grimaced with the pain of his entry.
“I belong to none of you,” I said, but my words were only in my head and only for him.
“You belong to all of us. We’re all inside you. The supernaturals, the humans, the vampires, the demons, the spirits. We’ve chosen you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do.”
And then I did. They’d all given me something. They’d all created something within me—a power, a mutation, a weapon. Even the demons, who were the creators of the sword that rested inside me.
“You will help us create change. You were born the Peacemaker.”
“Peacemaker...”
“This. This is who you are.
“No one?”
“Everyone.”
He exited my mind as forcefully as he’d entered, and when I became aware once more, I was on the ground and my men surrounded me. Shane knelt beside me, his blades in his hands.
“Death will come with the rifters,” Himself said, calmly. “But so will life. So will change. You will be our liaison. Speak with the mayor. Speak with the humans. They will see the benefits we can offer them. Now is the time. The rifters are our enemies, but we can use them to create a better existence.”
I stood, wobbly, unfocused, confused, struggling to recover from Nadine and Himself. “What did you just do to me?” I felt the difference. I felt something inside me that hadn’t been there before. It didn’t hurt—it was just a nagging sensation on the edges of my mind. It began to fade almost immediately, that sensation, but the knowledge of it remained. “What’d you do?”
My men were gathered around me, each touching some part of me, and I wasn’t sure if they did it to soothe me or to soothe themselves. It didn’t matter.
Himself watched me calmly, and for a second I thought he wouldn’t answer. Finally, though, he spoke. “If the rifters had so much as scratched you, Trinity, they would have scented your pure blood. You would have been devoured. We would have lost you.” He leaned toward me. “They must never know your blood is pure. You would not survive that. I have masked it. When they return, and you bleed, they will not catch the scent unless I lift the mask.”
As I stood in silence, digesting his words, he sat back and gestured at the murmuring, quietly excited crowd. “Jade.”
She strode forward, aggression in every step, and the woman at her side walked with her. When they reached their ruler, they took a knee before him.
But only for a few seconds, and when they rose, Jade looked at Himself with somewhat amused affection.
I realized then that Himself had been the one to bring in Jade all those years ago.
“Sir,” Jade said. “It’s good to see you.”
Nadine gave Jade her hand. “Himself says it is good to see you, as well.” She released Jade and clasped the other woman’s hand. “Amanda Hammer, it is. This is a night for old friends.”
Amanda winked at Nadine. “It’s a night for many things.”
I would never have imagined anyone being so…casual with either Himself or Nadine. Nadine had a hair-trigger temper and a killing power, and Himself…
I shuddered, and Amias tightened his grip on one hand at the same time Clayton tightened his grip on the other. Angus’s warm body pressed against the back of me, and Rhys and Shane stood like a barrier between me and Nadine, protective and watchful. “I’m okay,” I told them.
I was sure I saw contempt in both Jade Noel and Amanda Hammer’s faces when they glanced at me. But maybe I was wrong.
Maybe.
Leo waited like an enormous, silent sentinel on the fringes of the crowd, just a little apart. He didn’t feel like he belonged in the midst of the Bay Town supernaturals or with me and mine. Not yet.
“Sir,” Jade said to Himself, “you’re going to ask me and my team to guard Bay Town. To deter the humans and rifters.”
“Indeed,” he said. “They cannot be permitted to destroy our land.”
She nodded. “I have a request.”
“Ask it.”
“The mercenary. I would like his help.”
It wasn’t until Himself gave Rhys a nod that I realized who she meant.
I narrowed my eyes and took a step away from my men, closer to Jade. I crossed my arms and stared down at her. “If you want to borrow one of mine, you will as
k me.”
She lifted an eyebrow, then glanced at Himself. If he ordered me to hand over Rhys, I wouldn’t argue. She knew that.
But Himself simply gazed at us, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “I will not command it,” he said, mildly.
“Fuck,” Jade muttered. She put her hands on her hips and managed somehow to look down her nose at me, even though I had at least four inches on her.
I didn’t think her pride would allow her to ask.
I was wrong.
“I would like Rhys Graver with me as we patrol the borders of Bay Town,” she told me, her eyes blank, her voice politely formal. “May I borrow him?”
I looked at Rhys. It was really up to him, after all.
He was no help. He gave me a slow smile and a shrug and made it my decision.
There was so much I needed to know about him. Even Jade had called him a mercenary. They all knew more about him than I did.
I was sick of secrets. Sick of lies.
Tired of not really knowing my own men.
“Yeah,” I said. “If that’s what he wants to do.”
I would not stop him from protecting his supernaturals. My desire to keep him to myself was petty and childish. Still, when Jade Noel and Amanda Hammer took him out of Willow-Wisp, my stomach tightened and I watched them go with a frown.
“You’re stingy with your men,” Nadine said. “With men such as these, I can understand why.” She smacked her lips. “Ummm-hmmm.”
Apparently, she wasn’t one to hold a grudge.
“So that’s it, then?” I turned away from Rhys’s disappearing form to face Himself, but Himself was gone as well.
Nadine cackled. “Take your hunters into the city, girl. Talk with the mayor. Prepare for the rifters. Do whatever you have to do to assure the supernaturals’ safety.”
“I will.”
Nadine watched me, her hands on her hips, her eyes bright and sparkly. Their jovial shine was as false as her gentle smile.
Maybe she thought I’d be trouble when the real battle came. Maybe she thought I’d shrink away from the horror, that I’d run and hide behind my men. Maybe she believed I was still too human to truly stand with the supernaturals.
Maybe she didn’t know me at all.
Angus pulled me into a hug. “If you need me, call me.”
I sighed and relaxed in his muscled arms, wishing for a moment that I could lead him to my bedroom, close the door, and forget the world. “What are you going to do?”
His voice was a deep, low rumble. “Leo and I will help keep the way station and the town safe.”
Rhys and Jade were the first line of defense, but if humans slipped through, Angus and Leo would be waiting.
“If all the rifters come…” I started.
“We will fight together,” he finished.
I inhaled deeply, pulling his scent into my lungs, into my heart, before I stepped out of his embrace. But he wasn’t quite ready to let me go.
He slid his hand to the nape of my neck, squeezing gently as he lowered his mouth to mine. And there was my forgetfulness, my moment of swirling heat as I shut the door of my mind, locking the two of us inside. I lost myself in the promise of his lips.
Finally, he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine. “Soon, sweetheart.”
And it was time to go. Time to go back to the city to try to keep the humans safe. The same humans who persecuted the hell out of the supernaturals.
I figured convincing Mayor Delaney of anything was going to be next to impossible. Red Valley humans had made sure they were served—ruled—by anti-supernatural authority.
They had no desire to make life easier for the supernats.
But sheer terror had a way of changing people’s minds. If Mayor Delaney believed he was in danger, and if he got scared enough, he would change the rules.
The rifters were about to make sure he got scared enough.
Chapter Eleven
A Moment of Peace
Amias followed me from Willow-Wisp. He said nothing, did not touch me, or look at me, or acknowledge that I was there.
He’d closed himself off, not just to me, but to everyone. His face was expressionless, his eyes blank, and he was so empty that if he hadn’t moved, I might not have been able to see him.
“They turned the humans tonight,” I told him as my men and I walked out of the cemetery. “With a single feeding. There were no processes, no coddling, no exchanges of blood. They fed from them, and the humans turned.”
“But not into rifters,” he said, unsurprised. “The humans they turn will be useless to them. Rifters cannot make more of themselves by biting a human, though that is one of their fondest wishes—and they do not want to make more vampires.”
I nodded. “So they’ll kill after they feed to keep from making more of their enemy.”
“Yes. Vampires can feed without turning. We can feed without killing. Rifters will simply kill those they bite.”
I hesitated. “Why are you so sad, Amias?”
I felt his fear, his dread, and his anger. But more than any of those, I felt his sadness. It was deep, and it was harsh.
His almost silent laugh sounded more like a sob. “Trinity. Trinity.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked him. “What are you keeping from me?”
His eyes rimmed with the scarlet of bloody tears, and that scared me more than anything. I grabbed his arm as he turned away. “Amias. Tell me.”
“When this ends, you will not be the same.” He put his hands on either side of my face, his stare intense. “You will not be the same, and I grieve the loss. Even now, I grieve.”
“Amias…”
He dropped his hands and stepped back. “More rifters will appear in the city soon. I want to be waiting for them.”
“My hunters and I will see you there,” I told him.
He nodded, and then he was gone.
I wished I could have helped him, but there was nothing a person could do to stop those pesky gut feelings. Mine was giving me fits over Shane.
Both of us would be fine.
Part of me actually believed that.
I stood for a minute with my eyes closed, feeling a peace in the night that wasn’t real, listening to the frogs, inhaling the summer air. I heard the distant murmurs of the supernats still in Willow-Wisp. For that moment, there was only perfection.
I heard Shane and Clayton talking and opened my eyes, watching as they stocked Clayton’s car with supplies before we headed back into the city.
Clayton had taken possession of Miriam’s car. I hadn’t really liked the fact that he was driving around in a reminder of his former cruel mistress, but it wasn’t like he would somehow forget his past if we drove her car into the river. He’d said there was no reason to waste a good vehicle, that it belonged to him now.
I hadn’t argued.
Angus and Leo stood on the way station porch watching us, their voices low, comforting rumbles as they talked, and occasionally Angus’s laugh would burst free, making me smile.
There was still that changed darkness inside him. The Byrdcage had done something terrible to him, but he’d been hiding it well. I didn’t know what was lying in wait inside him. I knew eventually it would rear its terrifying head—but he was controlling it.
For now.
Clayton dropped half a dozen newly sharpened stakes into the trunk of his car, bringing my attention back to him. His eyes gleamed as he ran his thumb over the wood, and I shivered. There was something new in his proud gaze, something I didn’t recognize. Part of me wondered if I knew Clayton Wilder any better than I knew Rhys Graver.
Shane climbed into his truck without a goodbye to anyone, but Clayton took my face in his hands and lingered over that touch before sliding his lips across mine. When he touched me, or kissed me, there was nothing else. It held all my attention. He held all my attention.
He’d been deprived for too long for there to be anything better than the freedom to touch a woman
. His woman.
Still, the shadow of Miriam squatted like a malignant lump between us, and neither of us could totally relax. Couldn’t allow ourselves to feel all the joy that waited, because she was there, crouching, grinning, biding her time.
As much as I wanted to believe otherwise, Miriam was not going to just disappear from our lives. From his life.
She could not be killed. And he was terrified she’d return to take control once again. We all were.
“She’s not coming back,” I murmured, against his lips.
He pulled away, just a little. “She will.”
“If she does, I will never let her take you. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”
“We won’t let her take you,” Angus said, coming up behind me. He pressed his warmth against me, and my breath slid out in a slow, blissful hiss.
Nothing felt better than being surrounded by those men.
Shane gave his horn a tap. “Let’s go, baby hunter,” he called.
“He needs to stop calling you that,” Angus muttered.
I grinned. “It’s an endearment.”
Angus patted my ass. “Be careful,” he said, before he strolled back toward the house. Leo had disappeared—most likely he was in the kitchen eating another chicken. The man did like to eat, and no wonder. He was huge.
Angus had told me that Leo had been starved in the Byrdcage because they’d discovered early on that food deprivation was worse than just about anything else they could do to him.
“Sometimes they’d feed him, then beat him until he threw it up. Then they’d—”
“I don’t want to hear any more.”
“Sorry, Trin.”
And then I’d been ashamed because Angus needed to talk. He needed to tell someone about the hell they’d lived through. I’d decided then to toughen up and let him tell his stories, but he hadn’t attempted to share the horror with me since.
I hadn’t pushed.
We drove down the way station driveway, a tiny procession of vampire hunters, and I let my window down to enjoy the late summer night air. It was fresh and almost too chilly, and I could smell autumn creeping in, waiting to pounce. I didn’t want winter to arrive with its muddy snow, icy temps, and gray skies, but I wasn’t the weather god. And that was just too bad.