Lightbringer (Silverlight Book 4)

by Laken Cane

  His stare softened. “I will always be here,” he promised. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  But I didn’t want him to change.

  Too bad that wasn’t up to me.

  He turned his head to kiss my thigh.

  “I can’t enjoy something that feels this sad,” I said.

  He laughed. “Oh, I believe you can.”

  But surely my heart was too heavy, my brain too filled with dread. I couldn’t think about sex. Not even—

  Oh.

  Maybe I could, after all.

  Rhys began doing things with his mouth that drove everything from my mind but the pleasure of his sex.

  The power of his sex.

  I couldn’t lie still. I half sat up, my hands at the back of his head, pressing his mouth harder against my center, gasping as the heat from his mouth slid inside me. His mouth was like fire, but it didn’t burn me. He flicked his tongue and sent sparks of fire into me, sparks of pleasure, and I lost my breath as I came with my entire body.

  “Hold her.” I heard his words dimly, but they held no real meaning. Someone slid his arms around my waist and pulled me back against his body, and both my hands were taken forcefully from Rhys’s head and held tightly in strong grips.

  I could have broken free had I been able to concentrate for a second, but Rhys was killing me with power, magic, sex.

  He sucked, licked, and bit me through orgasm after orgasm. They never weakened, those orgasms. Each one was like the first. And I kept coming.

  I kept coming, because his mouth.

  God, his mouth.

  I couldn’t move. My men held me, and Rhys’s glorious mouth kept me pinned to the bed, my limbs heavy, my body jerking from pleasure that only seemed to grow more intense with each hot stroke of his tongue.

  I opened my eyes when he slid up my body and positioned his cock at my throbbing, wet, eager sex, and for a second, fear tried to overwhelm the pleasure. It wasn’t possible, but it tried.

  His eyes were red, and smoke drifted from his nose and mouth. There was something dark and primal in his eyes, and I didn’t know him at all.

  Then the fear and pleasure combined and I could only stare mutely into his red eyes, waiting, waiting…

  With one fierce thrust, he shoved his cock inside me.

  At the same time, someone—Amias, maybe—pushed my mouth against Rhys’s throat. “Drink,” he commanded.

  Blood, sex, power.

  It filled me. It filled the room.

  It overflowed to all my men, even the one not there. Then I realized Angus was there. He whispered in my ear, kissed my neck, caressed my body.

  They were all there, touched by Rhys.

  And I was being fucked by the dragon.

  His magical blood filled my mouth as his thrusting cock filled my body, as everything he was filled everything I was.

  My cries blended with his as we climaxed, and I understood then, though I would forget later, that still the dragon held back. Rhys was coming into his final power, and he was going to need a dragon to match it. To handle him. To free him.

  Not me. A dragon.

  If he’d have given me everything he was, I would have gone into the despair. He would have killed me. I was immortal—except when it came to the dragon.

  The dragon could kill anything.

  Except another dragon.

  I wanted to reject that, to deny it, to rail against it.

  All I could do was scream in pleasure.

  His blood kept me from dying. Had he not fed me as he fucked me, I wouldn’t have survived.

  Amias, too.

  The connection was immediate and sharp when he took the dragon inside himself—the blood, the power, the sex—and it gave us both something we would need to rule the vampires. To protect Bay Town.

  To control the humans.

  Pure power.

  The elders would have their rules. They would have their boundaries.

  Amias and I…

  We would not.

  And we could thank our dragon for that.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  ENDING

  “My end has come to fetch me,” Himself said.

  We all stood inside Willow-Wisp where he’d summoned us, and despite my issues with the King of Everything, I could only look at him with softness.

  He was dressed in red ceremonial clothes—his burial clothes, perhaps—and his staff glowed with a pearly shine. His hair flowed like wispy floss over his shoulders, and his black eyes were bright and lively.

  If he were dying, he wasn’t sad about it.

  He was ready.

  But he hadn’t called us there so that we might usher him out of the world. He’d called us there to witness his appointment of a new king.

  He held out a hand to me. “Bloodhunter. Caretaker. Peacemaker. Lightbringer. Come.”

  I didn’t want to rule the supernats.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped, as though I’d spoken my thoughts aloud. “Come here, child.”

  Jin stood behind me, and without warning, he shoved me toward Himself. “Go,” he hissed.

  Jin figured everyone should be as afraid of Himself as he was.

  The supernaturals of Bay Town had all come to what was likely the last meeting Himself would ever call, and my men and I stood in the front row. I felt like I was ten years old and in the principal’s office—a principal who might rip my head off at any moment.

  I threw a glare at Jin, then straightened my shoulders and joined Himself, who was flanked by two of the vampire elders.

  Vampire elders who, I’d learned, had taken up residence high in the dark hills of Red Valley. Amias had told me. He’d also told me that Jade lived in those hills. Jade and her crew. Amanda Hammer had survived the Deluge, but she was still not back to normal. I never found out what had happened to her to begin with, but that was her story, and she was unwilling to share it.

  Safin had killed the healers. The swamp was empty, now. Empty, dark, sad.

  When I reached Himself, one of the elders took a step to the side, indicating that I should squeeze between him and the king. I wasn’t comfortable there. I didn’t belong with the old ones, with their mystery and unfathomable logic.

  I certainly didn’t belong on Himself’s abandoned throne.

  “This woman,” Himself said, causing me to jump, “is one of the champions of Bay Town. She will forever protect you; that is her purpose. Do not forget.” He looked at me. “Do not forget.”

  I nodded, my throat dry.

  Derry caught my stare and grinned, as though she were amused by my awkwardness. Angus was at her side, Natalie in his arms. When I turned my gaze to him, he gave me a wink—a rather wicked one—and I couldn’t help but relax. No matter what had passed or what would come, there was one beautiful constant in my life.

  My men.

  “I’m afraid we will always face adversity in one form or the other,” Himself continued. “But we will grow stronger with each victory. The circle surrounding us…” He paused to nod at Angus and the men at his back. “Will grow stronger. Bay Town is not destined to fall.”

  No one moved, as captivated by their ancient leader as they’d always been. They trusted him—a bit too blindly, in my opinion—and they believed in him completely.

  Himself took my hand. “Thank you, Trinity.” He squeezed my fingers, gently. “Thank you. You continue to impress me with your heart, even though it has been somewhat blackened by the monstrous rifter.” His eyes twinkled as he stared up at me, but I figured he was only partially joking.

  “I can’t be King of Everything,” I murmured.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “My dear, of course you can’t. You are not meant to rule. You are meant to fight.” He released my hand. “I simply wanted to acknowledge your bravery and your sacrifices.”

  I was dismissed.

  I walked sheepishly back to my place with the supernaturals.

  �
��I will announce my replacement,” Himself said, his voice booming. “And then I must leave you.”

  There were murmurs of denial, and a few of the supernats wiped at their eyes.

  He pursed his lips, satisfied, and then continued. “There is one who can protect you more completely than I could. He will not be bound by the rules that controlled me and that continue to control the vampires and their elders.”

  The two old vampires at his side nodded soberly in agreement.

  “The world is changing,” Himself said. “And quickly. This is the time of greatness, of joy, of peace for the supernaturals. But do not think it will remain so forever. Life can—and will—change in an instant. Be ready.” Again, he looked at me, and I couldn’t help but feel those last words were for me alone.

  I nodded. I would be ready, and I would never forget.

  Himself turned his eyes from me and thumped his staff upon the ground, then pointed it at someone in the crowd. “Come, my friend. Allow me to anoint the new King of the Bay Town Supernaturals. The new King of the Red Valley Humans. The King of the World.” He paused. “The King of Everything.”

  There was movement behind me, and even before I looked to see who would walk to Himself, I knew. My chest tightened, my eyes filled immediately with tears, and I wanted to fling myself in front of him and forbid him to change, to leave, to become something other than the man I loved.

  I took a step, meaning to do exactly that, but Angus wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. “No, sweetheart,” he said, gently. “It’s his right.”

  His right? Who would want to be the King of Everything?

  Rhys Graver, apparently.

  His shoulders straight, chin up, eyes shining, Rhys strode to Himself. He took the old man’s hand and knelt before him, and I put my fingers over my mouth to keep myself quiet as I watched.

  I was losing Rhys.

  My beautiful Rhys.

  That was what it felt like.

  Loss.

  The supernats were gaining an amazing new ruler. Rhys was gaining power and the responsibility of protecting his people. But I was losing the love of my life.

  I didn’t care if that was selfish of me.

  “I won’t give him up,” I cried, suddenly and totally unintentionally. “He’s mine.”

  Himself didn’t grow angry or impatient, simply shook his head and raised his hand to quieten the uneasy murmuring that swept through the crowd. “No, dear child. You are his. You are all his.”

  And I understood why the elders had trapped him inside the rifter prison. He had to be protected from a man who could have absorbed some of his power, could have made the dragon just a little less. They’d had to protect him until he was so strong that no one could take him.

  He was that strong now.

  The naming of the new king was relatively quick. The transference of power would come later, and in private. I was glad. I couldn’t have watched.

  “I will name your assistant,” Himself said, jolly.

  I frowned. If he thought he was taking two of my men, he was mistaken.

  “Alejandro Rodríguez,” the old man called. “Your bravery, talent, and loyalty are unmatched. I will give you the honor of serving as the new king’s assistant. Will you have it?”

  Jamie, staring at the ground, paled.

  I knew exactly how he felt.

  “I will.” Al beamed, his chest swelling with pride. “I am honored, sir.”

  “Now,” Himself said, “we celebrate. Jin?”

  “It’s ready. I have prepared a feast.”

  “To the house,” Angus roared, then strode to Rhys and clapped him on the back. The others surrounded him, some touching him, some hanging back shyly, as the man they’d known for so long became something almost…untouchable.

  “Where are you going, baby hunter?” Shane asked, as I turned to slip away.

  “I’ll be back in a little while. I just…” I didn’t know, though, so I shrugged and hurried away. I’d said my goodbyes to Rhys the night he’d given me his blood and had promised he would never leave me, even if I hadn’t really known it was goodbye at the time. He was inside me. He would always be there.

  And as I’d feared, it hadn’t meant the same thing to him as it had to me.

  I walked to the city, hoping the fresh air would clear my head and maybe blow away some of the pain I felt at the thought of losing Rhys.

  It didn’t.

  A new vampire bar had been constructed on Montgomery Street, as Crawford had promised. The place wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty, either. The humans were coming around.

  “Whiskey,” I told the bartender.

  He looked behind me, saw I was alone, and raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t retracted his fangs—for the benefit of the mostly drunk humans—and was suitably attired in black, his hair long and slicked back. He also wore thick eyeliner, and the slightest touch of red lipstick. “Whiskey?”

  “Yeah. Whiskey.”

  He poured it. “What are you going to do with that?”

  “I’m going to drink it.” I saluted him with the glass, then went to sit at a table in the corner. Before I could lift the glass to my lips, Frank Crawford walked in.

  “Man walks into a bar,” I murmured.

  He didn’t look surprised when he saw me, which made me think he’d either seen me enter the place, or one of the men—Shane, probably—had called to see if he could keep an eye out for me.

  He bypassed the bar and came to my table. “Trinity,” he said.

  “Captain.” I eyed his crisp suit. “You’re looking spiffy.”

  “Thanks. May I join you?”

  I pointed at the chair across from me. “Sure.”

  I downed the whiskey, concentrating on the path it burned to my stomach. I found it strangely pleasurable.

  “What?” I asked, when I caught Crawford staring at me.

  He shrugged. “I’ve never seen a whiskey-drinking vampire before.”

  “I can’t eat,” I told him. “At least not without losing it a few minutes later. But I don’t seem to have a problem with whiskey.” I grinned.

  His stare grew sad at my grin. “God, Trinity.”

  “What?” I asked, again.

  He shook his head, and I didn’t think he’d answer, but finally, he did. “It’s a little fucking sad. Your existence. Everything that happened to you, because of you, and for you. It’s all just a little fucking sad.”

  I looked away. “You’re not going to cry, are you, Captain?”

  He stood, sending his chair scraping back across the floor, and walked around to stand at my side.

  I looked up at him. “What?”

  His smile was small, but genuine. “You keep asking that.”

  “Yeah. So…what?”

  He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

  I was too surprised, for a second, to say anything.

  He didn’t move, just stood there with his hand out, and before I could tell him no, not a good idea, Captain, I glimpsed something in his eyes.

  I wasn’t the only one who was a little fucking sad.

  I stood without a word and placed my hand into his. It felt…wrong. But in the end, Frank was an uneasy friend and I was willing to let him hold me for a minute.

  It wouldn’t hurt anything.

  I stepped into his arms and we barely moved, just gently swayed, his breath on my forehead, his fingers inching across my lower back, our gazes meeting, then sliding away.

  The music was something slow, sang by a man with a haunting voice, and I shivered to hear it. I’d forever associate that song with Frank Crawford.

  “Frank,” I said.

  But he shook his head. “Shhh.”

  He pulled me closer, and his lips brushed my hair and maybe he didn’t think I’d feel it, that stolen kiss, but I did.

  I closed my eyes and leaned into him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my lips against his warm throat and I thought about how it mi
ght feel to bite him, kiss him, kill him.

  He shuddered when my darkness seeped into him. Frank Crawford was a little something more than he realized. I believed that deep in his DNA lived a hint of supernatural, and in another time, he’d have belonged with me. To me.

  But not now. Not now that I was turned. Not now that the rifter in me would make him into something completely nonhuman, something like me.

  Even if I had good intentions, I would eventually lose control and hurt a man like Frank. A human like Frank. I would bite him. I just would.

  And I was a decent enough person to keep my fangs to myself.

  I cared about the captain.

  Without thinking it through, I slid my fingers to the back of his neck, lifted my lips to his, and kissed him. I put everything I had into that kiss.

  We both knew it was all I could give him.

  He knew it was all he could take.

  His lips were warm and firm on mine, and we moved in tandem, bodies pressing, lips brushing, fingers squeezing, hearts wishing.

  When the music ended, we parted, as though it were an order. But just before we did, he put his lips to my ear. “I love you, Sinclair.”

  “I know, Captain,” I whispered.

  That was hard. That was fucking hard.

  I guess the rifter hadn’t eaten my heart after all.

  “Now we’re sad together,” I said.

  His eyes crinkled when he smiled. “We always were.”

  “If things were different…”

  “Yeah.”

  I hesitated. “Could you ever—”

  He recoiled. “God, no, Trinity. Never.”

  I’d known, but still. “I want you to be okay.”

  He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “I’m okay.”

  Then he turned and walked away, and I was pretty sure he was smiling.

  My heart inexplicably and abruptly light, I followed him out, eager to get home to the way station.

  I’d left my heart there.

  ~*~

  I hope you enjoyed the Silverlight series.

  If you loved this book, please leave a review on Amazon. <3

  -Laken

  About Laken Cane

  Paranormal/urban fantasy author Laken Cane went the indie route with Shiv Crew in 2013. Since then, she has published seventeen books and a short story, including urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and paranormal post-apocalyptic.