Caretaker (Silverlight Book 2)

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Caretaker (Silverlight Book 2) Page 9

by Laken Cane


  I lifted a trembling hand to my throat. “Did you…you felt that?”

  He laughed. “I think the entire city felt it.”

  “But…” I glanced into the backseat at Clayton, whose intense stare was full of fire and need and hunger. “What was it?”

  “It was us,” Clayton answered.

  I tried to swallow past the dryness in my throat, but couldn’t quite manage. “The three of us?”

  “I think…” Rhys cleared his throat and then tried again. “I think we were all sending out some heavy lust signals at the same time, and they crashed into one another.” He glanced into the rearview. “You felt it, Clay?”

  Clayton looked at me. “With every part of me.”

  “If only you were free,” I whispered, because my longing was just that strong.

  “Someday,” he murmured.

  I turned back around and stared out at the world, then slid my hand toward Rhys.

  He folded his fingers around mine once again, and none of us said another word until we reached Bay Town and the house he wanted me to see.

  And as soon as I saw it, I knew it was the one.

  I’d found my home.

  But there was no way in hell I’d be able to afford it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rhys drove us up a long lane, the sides of which were dotted with colorful flowers and blooming bushes, and then we climbed out and stood side by side in the front yard, staring up at the enormous old house.

  I gave the air a quick sniff when I exited the car, realizing only then that scenting the air had become a habit. As usual, the odor of Madalyn’s pure blood drifted delicately to my nostrils, but I recognized the old blood smell.

  And I couldn’t even admit to the two men at my side that I’d lost her. Not yet.

  “I love it,” I said. “It’s perfect. No neighbors on top of me, big yard, really beautiful and peaceful. I love it. But Rhys—”

  “There are twelve acres of land, Trinity,” Rhys interrupted. “The backyard is fenced and the entire house has been updated. Six beds, four and a half baths, laundry, enormous kitchen, central air, finished basement which can easily be partitioned into more private rooms, should you need them. Shall we go in and have a look?”

  “I can’t wait. This is the one, Rhys.” Then I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “If they’re going to let me work off the mortgage.”

  He laughed. “Let’s just have a look.”

  I snagged the silent Clayton’s hand before I remembered my touch would hurt him. I jerked away from him, then put Rhys between the two of us as we walked up the porch steps.

  “How much?” I wasn’t rolling in money, but I could swing a decent down payment for a no-frills little house. That house was not a little house. And it sat on twelve acres of land. “Why are you even showing me this monster?”

  Rhys and Clayton traded glances.

  “I saw that,” I said. “What’s going on?”

  “Let’s have a look at it,” Rhys said. “Then we’ll talk about the cost of living here.”

  I narrowed my eyes as he put the key into the lock. “What is it? Grandpa in the basement? Monsters under the beds? Skeletons in the closets?” I wanted to sound flippant but I was just anxious. I really wanted that house.

  Rhys gave me a stern look. “Are you finished?”

  “Ghosts in the attic?” I shrugged. “Now I’m finished.”

  He pushed the door open and it didn’t creak or squeak, though it looked like it should have. “Come in. It may be a moot point, as you haven’t seen the interior yet.”

  The entryway was large, airy and clean and possessed a coat closet, a bench, and a small table over which hung a spotless mirror. “Someone sure keeps this place clean,” I noticed. I took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. “I love the feeling I get from it. This may sound crazy, but I feel like I belong here.”

  “There are things you need to know about this house,” Rhys said. He crossed his arms and studied me.

  “Bring it, buddy! If there’s a way I can get this house, I’m taking this house.” I was beginning to get excited—if there was no chance I could afford the house, Rhys wouldn’t have wasted time bringing me there.

  “Trinity, this house is a way station.” He held up a finger when I started to speak, and I closed my mouth so he could continue. “I know this is Bay Town and every person here is supernatural and accustomed to the…unusual, but this property is never truly going to belong to any one person. Things happen here. Bad things, not so bad things, inexplicable things. It’s a mystical, bizarre place, a dangerous place, truly, but if I didn’t think you could handle it, I wouldn’t have brought you here.” He gestured. “And this house needs someone who can keep it safe.”

  “I can afford it?”

  “It’s not for sale,” Clayton said.

  I put my hand to my stomach. “What? Not for sale?” I turned on Rhys. “Why did you—”

  “You can live here for the rest of your life,” Rhys said, after throwing a glare at Clayton. “As its…caretaker. If you live here, this house is yours. Just not technically yours.”

  I could only gape—not really at what he’d said, although that was definitely gape-worthy, but because some…thing had appeared behind him and stood watching us.

  “Rhys,” I said.

  “Yes?”

  “There’s something right behind you.”

  He jerked around, then backed toward me, and suddenly there were two silver blades in his hands. To his credit, he never made a sound.

  Clayton stepped between Rhys and the creature, his hand up. “It’s the Jikininki. Rhys, you know Jin.”

  “I do,” Rhys said, a little hoarsely. “Sorry about that, Jin.” He put his blades away. “Trinity, Jin came through two years ago and has yet to leave. Most of the souls who appear are only passing through on their way to…” He shrugged. “Wherever they’re headed.”

  “They never show themselves when humans are inside,” Clayton said.

  Rhys nodded. “Jin must think you’re pretty special. Or,” he added, “not human.”

  “What keeps the humans from touring the place when they make the weekend rounds?” I asked. “I wouldn’t like that.”

  “They have heard stories, of course,” Rhys said, “but when humans come around, they see nothing. That gets boring fast.”

  “Jin isn’t dangerous to them?”

  Rhys hesitated. “He is, but not even he would bring the wrath of the humans down on the way station. Supernaturals have learned caution, Trinity. Even the ones who don’t live here.”

  “Some of them,” I said, and glanced surreptitiously at Clayton. The demon inside him hadn’t been very cautious.

  “Jin will keep your house clean,” Clayton said, ignoring my glance.

  “Does he also cook?” I quipped. “I’m not much of a cook, I’m afraid.”

  Clayton and Rhys stared at me—as did the creature.

  “You’re not afraid of him?” Rhys asked.

  I nodded. “Terrified. But I want to live here.” I grinned at him. “A way station for a house? How cool is that?”

  He laughed. “Pretty fucking cool.”

  I’d felt an affinity for the house the moment I’d seen it. I felt it in my bones. In my heart. This was my place. It was as though I released a breath I hadn’t even been aware I was holding.

  “Who owns this property?” I asked.

  Clayton walked toward the door. “He’s coming now. I hear his car.”

  “You must have amazing hearing.” I followed him. “I don’t hear anything.” But almost before the words were out of my mouth, I heard the rumble of a car engine.

  Jin had disappeared.

  “So that…guy. That creature. He’ll live here if I move in?”

  “Yes,” Rhys and Clayton answered at the same time.

  “And there will be others like him—some worse—showing up,” Clayton said.

  “They’ll likely leave again
,” Rhys said, “but sometimes they hang around. Sometimes you might have to…encourage them to leave.”

  “Or help them,” Clayton added.

  I looked from one man to the other as they spoke.

  I couldn’t tell if Clayton approved of me moving into the house or not. His face was blank, as usual. Finally, I shrugged. “When I think about leaving, it makes me want to cry. I need this house. I need to be here.”

  And neither man looked at all surprised.

  We watched as a black car rolled up the long driveway, and I squinted in confusion. “Is that a hearse?” I asked.

  “The owner of this property is a tad bit eccentric,” Rhys said.

  “Well,” I replied, absently. “He’d have to be, wouldn’t he?”

  We walked back out onto the porch to greet the new arrival, and I watched, fascinated, as a large black woman climbed from the driver’s side, then rushed around to open the passenger side door.

  She reached inside and emerged with a black cane, then tucked it under her arm as she helped a white-haired, elderly black man from the car.

  I started down the porch steps but Rhys grabbed my arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Going to see if they need help. The old dude looks like he can barely walk,” I whispered.

  “By all that is holy,” Rhys hissed, “do not offer to help.”

  “Show respect,” Clayton muttered.

  I suddenly got the feeling they were both a little afraid. And that made me afraid. I swallowed and stepped back, my heart beginning to beat hard and fast.

  If the owner disliked me, I wouldn’t get the house.

  Before the lady could slam the door shut, a chicken jumped from the car, clucking as it walked around the man’s feet.

  A chicken.

  It appeared to be a white rooster, with a vivid red comb and black tail. When the man and woman began walking toward the house, the chicken followed, occasionally pecking at the ground.

  It was torturous watching the old man trying to get up the porch steps. I clenched my teeth and wished Rhys would just rush down the steps and carry the old guy up.

  But finally, they made it to the porch and then, as the three of us stood back, silent, he and the woman ambled to the door. They never once acknowledged us.

  The door opened as they reached it. No one touched it, it just…opened.

  I watched, mouth agape, as the little procession filed into the strange house.

  It was hard telling how long we would have stood there in our little knot of nervous silence if the woman hadn’t stuck her head out the doorway. “Well? Himself don’t have all day!”

  We hurried into the house, and still, despite everything, I had not one shred of doubt in my mind. I wanted to live at the way station.

  I needed to.

  “You’d be wanting the house, lovely?” the woman asked, as the man leaned on his cane and stared up at me through gleaming black eyes.

  I barely restrained myself from bobbing a quick curtsy. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She thought a minute. “Himself says you’re a tall drink of water.” She shrugged. “I apologize for his tone.”

  I looked from one to the other, unsure. “Himself” hadn’t said a word. I said nothing, because I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  “Himself says you didn’t see the entire house,” the woman said, then stuck out her hand so quickly I flinched, thinking that perhaps Himself had ordered her to smack me. But she only wanted to shake hands. “I’m Nadine.”

  I squeezed her hand. “I’m Trinity.”

  “Himself says you are the Light-Bringer.” Then she patted my hand and peered into my eyes. She and I were nearly the same height, but her thick hair, piled on top of her head, made her at least five inches taller. “Your despair will hold you back. This sadness is for a friend.”

  I frowned, glanced at the silent and stiff Rhys and Clayton, then nodded. “Yes, ma’am. One of my friends is in the Byrdcage.”

  She turned her stare to the little man on her right, then nodded. “Angus Stark. Himself has a fondness for Angus. Himself says to go to the island tonight and seek his freedom.”

  “But…” I shook my head, feeling just a little desperate. “I’ve lost the judge’s wife. If I can’t find her, they won’t give me Angus.”

  Storm clouds swirled in her eyes. “Are you refusing Himself? Do you dare to?”

  I stumbled back as terror screamed through me—her anger pressed in on me, sudden and overpowering and smothering—and my mind stuttered to a frozen halt. I couldn’t think, breathe, or remember.

  Her power was…insane.

  Then, it was like she’d slammed on the brakes of a speeding truck, and the resulting screech of tires on pavement nearly deafened me. I put my hands over my ears, a habit I’d acquired when the sudden memories of dying, screaming people and infected vampires crashed into my brain.

  The sudden silence was deafening.

  I looked up when I felt fingers on my head and found the old man leaning over me, his ancient eyes nearly buried in centuries of wrinkles. He stared down at me, unsmiling, his gaze more mesmerizing than any vampire’s.

  And I knew that unlike the vampires, this man could take my mind with a mere thought.

  But I wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.

  I stayed on my knees, staring up at him, my body covered with gooseflesh, hot tears springing to my eyes.

  “Be still,” he murmured. “You are safe.”

  I nodded. “I know. With you,” I whispered, “I feel it.”

  Nadine recoiled, and I glanced at her. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open, her hand to her chest. But she said nothing, so I returned my attention to the man.

  “You will scent the woman,” he told me. “You have only to go to her. You will retrieve the bull. You have only to go to him.”

  “Thank you.” My voice cracked and I wanted to grab his hands and rub my face against them. I didn’t, because he might have struck me dead, but I wanted to. “Thank you.”

  He gestured at Nadine and after a moment’s hesitation, she turned, quick as a cat, and grabbed the chicken. She’d ripped off his head and began slinging his blood all over me before my sluggish body could react.

  And even when I started to leap away, horrified, his silent voice urged me to hold still for it. So I did, because there were no other choices.

  Nadine intoned a few words in a language I didn’t understand, then leaned over to trace symbols on my forehead, her bloody finger swirling and dancing over my skin.

  “Himself has called you Lady of the Way Station,” she crooned, and I heard regret in her voice. “Himself has called you Caretaker of the Ones, until such a time when you will die.”

  And then they turned away from me, and just like that, they were back to being bland, old, and slow, a landlord and his assistant. They strolled back through the front door as slowly and silently as they’d come through it, leaving blood and awe in their wake.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As soon as I heard the car start, I unfroze.

  I jumped to my feet, dripping with chicken blood, and went for Rhys. Clayton took a quick step back and left Rhys to face my wrath.

  “Trinity,” Rhys said. “Let’s talk about this. You’re—”

  I slammed into him, driving him back against the wall, and drew back my fist with every intention of breaking his nose.

  He moved his head to the side at the last possible second, and I slammed my knuckles into the wall. I cried out when the pain traveled over my hand and up my wrist, but I was too angry to stop.

  “You should’ve warned me,” I yelled, and rammed my fist into his belly.

  He grabbed me and turned me so my back was against his front, and his arms were like a vice around me. My arms were pinned so I couldn’t punch him, but I lifted my foot and slammed it down on his instep. With the movement, my ass rubbed against his groin.

  He groaned and shuddered against me, his breath leaving his lungs in a hard rush,
and he lowered his mouth to the soft area between my shoulder and my neck. He didn’t bite, but he nibbled.

  While I was still thinking about the feel of his mouth on my skin, he slid his lips to my ear. “I am sorry, love.”

  I pushed against him until he released me, then walked a few steps away before I turned to face him. “You let me walk blind into that scary ass fucking wall, Rhys.” I turned my glare on Clayton. “You both did.”

  They said nothing.

  “Well?” I bellowed. “Why did you?”

  Rhys shook out his bruised foot, then lowered it gingerly to the floor. “Because he asked us not to. He wanted the real you. Not the rehearsed you.”

  I looked at the ceiling and sighed. “Does he have a name? Other than Himself, I mean?”

  “His name is a secret, sacred thing,” Clayton answered. “No one alive knows it.”

  “His name can be used against him.” Rhys stuck his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall. “It can be used to weaken him. Not even Nadine knows his name.”

  “Is he…” I shook my head, remembering how it’d felt to have him inside my head. How all I’d wanted to do was please him. Serve him. “Is he the king of supernaturals?”

  “He may be the king of everything,” Rhys said. “I know little about him. He doesn’t make appearances often. He really wanted to see you, Trinity.”

  “You heard him,” Clayton said. “He spoke inside your mind.”

  I nodded. “He was in there. It was…strange.” I didn’t look at him.

  “Not many people can hear him,” Rhys said, almost gently, as though he felt sorry for me.

  I frowned. “So what does that mean?”

  “You really are a potential gatekeeper. I’d hoped you wouldn’t be. I didn’t think he’d accept you. I thought…” He blew out a breath and rubbed his face. “He had a feeling, though. He had to have known.”

  “And the test?” I asked, unsure about everything.

  “What test?” Rhys asked.

  “The one where he wants to see if I can free Angus.”

  “That’s not a test,” Clayton said. “It’s a task.”

  I swallowed, suddenly afraid, and not because I feared losing the house. “What if I fail?”

 

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