by Laken Cane
He smiled. “Delaney isn’t going anywhere. We’ll just have to figure out how to handle him.”
The waitress came back with a pot of coffee, but Crawford shook his head. “I’ve had enough coffee, Sue.” He glanced up at her, then frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right? Ed’s okay? Did you know anyone killed in the attack?”
Her hand shook and the coffee sloshed, and she bit her trembling lip. “No. Just a bad dream last night,” she murmured. “That’s all. A bad dream.”
But when she turned her head, jumping a little when a customer noisily entered the diner, I saw a ring of bruises at the side of her throat. Bruises she’d tried to hide with a high neckline and her hair. “Sue, you don’t know me,” I started, “but—”
“I know you,” she interrupted. “Everybody knows you. And I have to get back to work.”
I looked at Frank once she’d left the table. “Someone’s hurting her.”
He pursed his lips, his narrowed gaze following her retreating figure. “She’s married to the nicest man you could ever meet. Her kids are away at college. I’ve been coming into this diner for fifteen years, and she’s worked here very nearly the entire time. I think she’d tell me if she were in trouble.”
“Frank,” I said, firmly. “Someone is hurting that woman.”
“Shit,” he muttered, and shoved away from the table. “I’ll talk to her.”
I stood as well. “I need to get back to Bay Town. Call me after you talk to the mayor.”
“I will. Still, be on guard. Neither I nor my people will be coming for you. But if he wants you, he’ll send someone a little meaner than me.”
“He should hope he doesn’t. For his sake.”
He grinned, and his tired face brightened. “He doesn’t know you or the supernaturals well enough to be scared.”
I returned his smile. “Before this is over, he will.”
The mayor seemed to think he was invincible. That he could do whatever he liked, hurt whomever he chose, and rule supreme.
Poor guy was in for a very rude awakening.
Crawford hesitated, then reached out to squeeze my arm. “Be careful, Sinclair.”
“You too, Captain.”
Then I left him to speak with the bruised waitress and hurried home to my men. I’d had enough of the city.
Chapter Seventeen
Ribbons of Truth
I stopped on the way home and picked up seven red roses, seven boxes of chocolates, and seven balloons, because I wanted to do something nice for the ones I cared about and with everything hanging over our heads, I knew I might not get another chance.
I didn’t pick up lunch, because Jin would have been upset. He wanted to take care of the housecleaning and the cooking, and I wasn’t going to interfere with that.
I found them all gathered in the kitchen, of course. Angus sat at the head of the table, regaling them with some exaggerated—maybe—stories from his youth, and even though I’d just eaten a late breakfast and could barely waddle into the kitchen, the scent of whatever Jin was cooking up for lunch made my mouth water.
Angus caught sight of me standing in the doorway. “Trin,” he roared. “What do you have there?”
“We having a party?” Shane asked, leaning back in his chair.
Clayton walked to me and took the bag of chocolates and the flowers, then carried them to the table. When he put everything down, I stood there with all stares on me, feeling a little shy.
Jin turned from the stove, a long, wooden spoon in his hand, and watched.
“I…” I shrugged, then strode toward them and one at a time, I began handing out candy, roses, and balloons. Maybe it was silly, but we all needed a little silly in our lives.
Leo blushed like a teenager when I handed him his goodies. “I can hardly believe it. You got me gifts?”
My heart melted at his genuinely happy surprise. Even though he was sitting, I had to tiptoe to kiss his cheek. The half-giant was a little over eight feet tall. At five-nine, it wasn’t often a man made me feel short, but next to Leo, I was practically pocket-sized.
“You have one left,” Shane said, stuffing chocolates into his mouth. “You have a sweetheart hidden in the basement that we don’t know about?”
I winked at him. “Nope. I have a friend, though.”
Jin hunched over the stove, stirring the pot of stew so hard his entire body shook, pretending he wasn’t paying attention. But he darted a glance over his shoulder at me, then away, then back again.
When I walked to him and touched his shoulder, he started so hard he dropped the wooden spoon into the pot, cursed, then grabbed it out with a pair of tongs. I stood watching his awkwardness patiently, and finally, he set the spoon on the stove and stood like a plank of wood, staring at the floor.
“Thank you for taking care of us, Jin.”
He didn’t meet my eyes as he gingerly took his gifts. When he held them in his large-knuckled hands, he cleared his throat and then without a word, turned and fled the room, gifts squashed against his chest, balloon floating out behind him.
No one laughed. I’d have throttled them if they’d dared.
Shane polished off his chocolates and stood. “Guess I’ll finish cooking lunch.”
“You can cook?” Rhys asked doubtfully.
“Yup.” He wasn’t lying. Shane knew his way around a cook stove. He puckered up when he reached me and waited for me to lean in for a kiss. “Thanks, baby hunter.”
“Trin.” Angus scooted his chair back from the table and patted his lap. “Come here.”
I sat on his lap and wound my arms around his neck, ignoring the sheen of darkness hiding behind his eyes. I nuzzled his throat, drawing a growl from low in his chest, and when I inhaled, his perfect scent seemed to saturate every part of me. For a few seconds, there was nothing else.
But finally, I pulled myself away, got to my feet, and began to pace the floor, touching each man as I walked by him. “Crawford told me the mayor is thinking of arresting me. He believes if he holds me, he can control all of you. And Amias.”
“He’s right,” Leo said.
Angus nodded. “He called me before you got home.”
I stopped pacing. “Delaney called you?”
“Crawford did. He’s worried about you. I told him we know how to take care of our girl.”
I watched as Rhys helped Shane carry freshly baked bread and stew to the table. “He didn’t tell me he wanted to talk to you.” I sat down at the huge table, though I wasn’t going to eat. “He can be an asset to the supernats if we can ever come to trust him.”
“He’s not a bad man,” Rhys said, ladling stew into his bowl. “But he’s human, love. He’s always going to be a little untrustworthy.”
I watched Rhys eating, trapped by his absolute dark perfection. He looked up and caught me staring at him, and deep in his midnight gaze a spark of bright green flashed. It was like a broken shard of an emerald had gotten stuck in his irises, and for a second, that spark blinded me. All I could see was a speck of vivid green in a sea of blackness.
My eyes widened and I clenched my fists. In that second of blindness, I felt my blood heat and my flesh blister, as though I were a vampire being flung into the sun.
But even in that instant of heat, there was a flash of pleasure so extreme it was nearly incomprehensible.
Then it was over and he was staring at me as I was staring at him, with eyes too wide, caught in the strangeness of the moment.
“That was very fucking bizarre,” I whispered, realizing only then that my nails were piercing my palms. When I glanced down, needing an excuse to look away from him, I saw the little half-moons filling with blood. There was no pain. I was numb.
Every man there seemed almost paralyzed, dazed and unsure, their faces pale. I hadn’t been the only one touched by that strange moment. The realization comforted me.
“What the fuck just happened?” Shane asked.
Rhys left his chair and walked to me, then knelt
at my side. He took my abused hands in his and gently rubbed the little trickles of blood away. “She’s almost ready,” he said. “And I am almost free. That is what just happened.”
And then he broke down into sobs so heartrending, so lost, and so…exhausted, somehow, that we all froze in shock.
Clayton was the first one to reach us. Out of everyone there, Clayton would come closest to understanding what Rhys was feeling—because Clayton had been so horribly restrained for such a very, very long time.
He wrapped his arms around Rhys, and I slid from my chair to do the same, very nearly unable to handle the viciousness of Rhys’s agony.
If he’d asked me, I would have lain with him and let him ease his sorrow, even if it would have killed me. His distress was that vast. That terrible.
The other men came to us as well, each of us needing to end Rhys’s suffering—and our own. We wrapped Rhys up in our love, our devotion, our protection. We showed him that he was not alone.
That moment sealed our bond in ways nothing else could have. I felt it. I felt the difference, and I felt the magnitude. It weaved around us, through us, inside us, binding us together with invisible ribbons of truth.
I knew the other nonhumans in Bay Town were shivering with the slightest touch of that overflowing power, because I felt them, too.
Silverlight screamed within me, demanding release, giving me no choice in the matter. Before she could burst free and hurt my men, I scrambled backward, climbed to my feet, and let her come.
I was overwhelmed with Rhys, with emotion, with power, and it exploded from me as Silverlight—and her light hit us all.
Silver light surrounded us, entered us, and sealed us together. All of us but one. All of us but Amias. I wasn’t sure what that would mean for him or for the us of which he was part.
All I knew for certain was that the power of her light healed something broken in each of us, and we were stronger when she faded away. Not just because of her power, but because of our love.
Chapter Eighteen
Rifters and Demons
When the insistent ringing of my phone began, I didn’t at first understand what it was. It didn’t belong there in that room of primal emotion, magical light, and ancient love.
But I pulled away from my men, dug it out of my pocket, and glanced at the screen. Crawford—which would mean trouble, as usual. He never called just to say hello.
“Captain,” I said, as the men, looking as dazed as I felt, went back to sit at the table. Rhys looked brighter, somehow. His breakdown had renewed him. “What now?”
Crawford sighed in my ear. “Trinity, I am not even sure.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “The waitress?”
“She said she was sexually assaulted years ago, and she thinks she’s being affected by PTSD. I don’t think that’s entirely true.”
“Tell me.” I certainly understood about PTSD.
“She said she fell asleep toward morning—as most of the city did—with her husband beside her, but an hour later she awakened to someone on top of her. She couldn’t speak or move. She can only conjure vague, fuzzy images of her attacker. She said he was like a ghost, but she could feel him, see him. She doesn’t think any of it really happened, but said it was so real that she somehow managed to hurt herself during the episode.”
“The bruises on her throat.”
“Yes. Apparently, she takes occasional medications to help her sleep, and they sometimes cause her to have what she calls sleep paralysis. Usually, she said, it only lasts for a little while. But she’d never dreamed she was being attacked while paralyzed, and the paralysis never came upon her after she’d already been asleep for an hour.”
“Did she say—”
“Hang on for a second, Trinity.”
He lowered the phone and I heard him murmur something to a person who must have just come into his office. He was back in seconds. “I have to go. A woman just came in and reported that she was raped after she fell asleep this morning.”
“Shit,” I whispered.
“You know something, don’t you?” he asked, almost gently.
“It’s the demon. I’m sure of it. The one who trashed my car. He’s back.”
“What does he want?” He didn’t sound surprised. “And how can these women keep him from coming into their homes?”
He wants Silverlight, and his sword wants Clayton. And he knows the city is vulnerable right now.
But I wasn’t going to tell the captain that, because Seamus Flynn wasn’t getting my sword, and Miriam-fucking-Blacklight wasn’t getting my man.
“I don’t know the answer to either of those questions,” I lied, “but I’ll call you back as soon as I get some information. There has to be a way to protect against the invasion of demons. I’ll find it.”
“Hurry, Sinclair.” He was gone.
“The demon?” Clayton asked, as soon as I hung up.
I nodded. “Seamus Flynn is raping human women. He’s invading their homes and assaulting them as they sleep. Two have reported so far, but I have a feeling there are going to be a hell of a lot more as the day goes on. Other women will find out they’re not alone and they’re not crazy, and they’ll come forward.”
“Rifters in the night, demons in the day,” Leo said, his voice soft. “Things are not going well for the humans.”
“Understatement of the century.” I rubbed my eyes. “It’s exhausting.”
Rhys leaned forward, still wrapped up in what had just happened to us. His eyes were ringed with red, but he was calm. “What happened with Silverlight? What did she just do, Trinity?”
I wet my lips. “I don’t know. It was like she…cleansed us, wasn’t it? And strengthened our bond.”
They nodded. “She touched us with power,” Angus said. “When she left, I felt less…”
“Broken?” Clayton asked quietly.
Again, they all nodded.
We dwelled on it for a moment, but there was nothing more to say. It had happened, and perhaps there were differences inside us. Perhaps we were all a little changed. Did I dare to hope we were…better? Even a little?
Maybe.
Finally, Shane shrugged. “The demon. How are we going to deal with him?”
“All of you know more about incubi than I do,” I said. “I need to know what you know. How are they repelled? How can these women protect themselves against the attacks?”
“There are a few things they can try on their own,” Angus said. “None of them are a sure thing. We can bring in a specialist to lay demon traps, surround their homes with spells, mark their bodies with repellents—but that’ll take a while.”
I began pacing once more. “There’s the exorcist we used on the first demon. Should we call him in for this?”
Clayton shook his head. “He’s a madman. We can’t turn him loose on the human women.”
“He can’t be worse than the demon,” I said. “And he for damn sure can’t be worse than the rifters.”
“I’ll contact Himself,” Angus said. “The demons might be secretive sons of bitches, but they can’t hide their truths from the King of Everything.”
I looked at him, surprised. “Contact him? What do you do, conjure him through a bowl of water? Breathe on a mirror while chanting secret spells? Drop your tears into a fire of bones?”
He grinned. “Nadine has a cell phone.”
I shook my head, disgusted. “That’s just wrong.”
He strode from the kitchen to make his call, and I noticed Jin huddling in the doorway. “Jin?” I asked. “Are you okay?”
“I know what the incubi are afraid of,” he said, his voice so rusty and low I could barely hear him.
I beckoned him into the kitchen. “Then you’re just the man we need to talk to. Have a seat, hon.”
“Hon,” he repeated, and giggled.
“Wow,” Shane muttered, ignoring me when I glared at him.
Jin smoothed his hair and then sat down at the table, his gaze flitting fro
m one of us to the other before settling on the top of the table.
He thrived on being helpful, and sitting in his kitchen, surrounded by five attentive people, he seemed more comfortable than I’d ever seen him.
“There is a potion you can make,” he said, after I urged him on. “It is similar to injecting liquid silver into a vampire. It will not only physically hurt the demon, it can render him impotent. For years. The incubi have many secrets. The fact that they worship their sex is not one of them.”
He kept his stare on the table and seemed to have forgotten he’d been speaking.
“Go on,” I encouraged, when he remained silent for a good two minutes.
He jumped as though I’d startled him, then picked up where he’d left off. “If you concoct this brew, the threat alone will be enough to make the demon hie back to hell.”
Shane frowned. “Hie?”
Jin pursed his lips. “Hasten, child.”
I hid my smirk behind my hand. “How do we make this hie potion, Jin?”
“It will be difficult. One of the ingredients you already possess. The others may not be so easy to procure.”
“What’s the thing we possess?” Clayton asked.
“Not you. Her. Her pure blood.”
No one was surprised.
“And the other ingredients?” Leo asked.
“You will need the Foam of Aphrodite,” Jin answered. “The pure blood—a few drops should be sufficient. Seven ounces of fresh flesh taken from a living supernatural. A—”
Shane smacked the table. “Seven ounces of fucking flesh. Someone has to donate a foot or something?”
“He warned it would be difficult,” Leo said.
“Yeah, no shit,” Shane said.
“It doesn’t have to be a foot,” Jin said earnestly. “Some fingers, ears, a nice variety of toe. One of you could shave a piece of meat from your hip.” He leaned forward. “If someone were to donate a penis, all the better. The potion would be doubly powerful.”
Every man at the table paled.
“Yes,” I said, curling my lip. “Everyone knows how powerful the almighty penis is.”
