Light in Darkness

by Brandy L Rivers

  Byron firmly clamped his mouth shut. If HARP knew he was captured, they knew where he was. If they knew where he was, Jones was likely to leave him there to rot. Which meant Monty was in serious trouble.

  The well-dressed blond shrugged. “Don’t worry. I disabled the device after putting you under. Didn’t want them knowing where you were.”

  “Why would you do that? Why would you care?”

  “Fed into all their propaganda bullshit?” the dark-haired one asked with a snort. “Don’t worry, we can sort you out, if you let us help. I’m guessing you’re in over your head, wondering when they’ll turn on your brother.”

  Byron’s mouth fell open, all pretense dropped. “I have to get Monty out of there.”

  “My friend here already took the liberty of digging around your thick skull to find him. He’s safe. We’ll even allow you to see him once we’re sure you won’t pull anything stupid.”

  Byron sputtered, “But mages only care about themselves and keeping the humans from learning about monsters and magic.”

  “Do you believe everything HARP told you? Like how they warned you there was no hope for Monty?” the blond one asked.

  “No, no, of course not.”

  “Then is it so hard to believe they were wrong about us too?”

  Byron’s hands clenched and unclenched on the arms of the chair. “I want proof Monty is somewhere safe, and being treated fairly.”

  The dark-haired one walked over and sat down across from him. “Hope you don’t mind magic, but this will allow you to see the proof.”

  He held his hands out like he was cupping water and whispered words Byron couldn’t understand.

  An entire room appeared above the mage’s hands, a hologram in the shape of a fishbowl. As he slowly spread his palms apart, the image expanded until it filled the table.

  Monty sat in a chair, reading Les Miserables, one of his favorites. He’d never seen that cover before, it looked brand new. The room was elegant with modern furniture. There was a gas fireplace blazing against the wall and shelves of books. One small refrigerator sat beside the bookshelves.

  Pointing with his chin, Byron demanded. “What’s that?”

  The blond one stated, “Refrigerator loaded with blood from donors. He can live without ever drinking from someone, if he so chooses. Though, as long as he doesn’t do harm, there’s no reason he can’t drink from the source with their permission.”

  Byron’s eyes snapped up. “You’re willing to help him lead a normal life?”

  The one who cast the spell leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why does everyone assume we’re going to be a bunch of assholes who want to suppress everyone and everything? Sure, we want to keep peace, and some mages think they’re superior, but we don’t want to eradicate all other races. We want everyone to coexist.”

  “Then why hide from us lowly mortals?”

  “Because groups like HARP or the Inquisition form to take out anyone and everyone who’s different. Keeping secrets from the majority is easier than playing babysitter.”

  Some of Byron’s fight died. “I can see Monty when we’re done here?”

  “As long as you cooperate, and we’re satisfied with your answers. You did try to shoot and kill one of our friends,” the blond one said.

  Byron drew a slow breath, rubbing his chin over his shoulder. “I thought… assumed… shit.” Slamming his hands into the side of the chair, he sighed. “I was so sure she was to blame for Monty being a monster.”

  “I got news for you. Victoria is no monster. She goes out of her way to improve people’s lives. People like your brother. He doesn’t blame her for what he is.”

  “Then who is responsible?”

  “A vampire who was willing to take advantage of him.”

  “What was that thing protecting her?” Byron blurted out.

  “That’s not for me to discuss. Kid’s practically a saint.”

  “But the light? It was blinding.”

  “Can you think of a monster associated with light?” The dark-haired one snorted. “I sure as fuck can’t.”

  Byron blinked. One thing came to mind, and monster wasn’t it. “He can’t be an angel. Why would an angel be with a vampire?”

  “Something like that. And clearly, not all vampires are evil.”

  “She’s a bloodsucking killer!”

  “Did she kill your brother? Did she even drink from him?”

  “Of course she did. How could she resist?”

  “Is that what he said?”

  Byron shook his head, frowning. “He’s lying. Has to be.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged, then blurted out, “He said he never slept with her. How can I believe that? You’ve seen her, of course he wanted to.”

  “He may have wanted her, but that hardly means she slept with him. Especially if he says she never did take their relationship there.”

  Byron’s shoulders dropped in defeat. “Why would she help someone like Monty?”

  “He’s a talented musician. She saw that and wanted to help support something she viewed as positive. Victoria did more for your brother than you ever did.” The darker mage tapped his hands on the table.

  The blond one moved closer, lifting a hand that magically released the cuffs holding him. “What did you tell HARP about the incident?”

  Byron told them everything he knew, everything he’d done.

  * * * *

  The observation room was surprisingly warm, done in autumn colors. On one clear wall, the spell played the interrogation like a movie on a projection TV, minus the projector.

  There were leather chairs and a couch, but Victoria, Lincoln, and Slater stood before the wall, watching everything unfold.

  Victoria turned away when Byron called her a bloodsucking killer. Byron had never met her, but his words managed to remind her of her early struggles as a vampire. The memory sliced deep.

  Lincoln moved in front of her, capturing her face in his hands. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know better, but maybe Robert and Preston can change his mind.”

  “Is it even worth it? And now he believes you must be a monster because you saved me.”

  “Does it matter what he thinks? He’s wrong.”

  “About you. Not about me,” she answered sadly.

  Slater sighed. “You’ve heard me say it before. Lincoln is telling you now. Two mages vouched for you seconds ago. Who cares what some fuckwad thinks.”

  Lincoln nodded, she couldn’t pull her eyes from his pale green orbs. “One of these days, I’ll make you see your worth.”

  Her heart stalled, but she felt his warmth infuse every cell. “I believe you,” she whispered.

  A slow smile started on his lips as he stroked his thumbs over her cheeks. Quiet footsteps moving away signified Slater was giving them a semblance of privacy.

  Through the viewing pane, Byron said, “I told them some demon was protecting Victoria.”

  Victoria turned in time to see Byron wipe tears from his face. A piece of her wanted to storm in there and tear him to shreds with her bare hands because he put Lincoln on HARP’s radar. The other part of her felt sorry for the imbecile who didn’t realize the hate he spewed might have started a war between humans and Others.

  “You’re not a demon.” Victoria reached out and grabbed Lincoln’s hand.

  “I know that.” He pulled her closer and put his arm around her. “Neither are you a monster.”

  Chapter 9

  The Silver Council Headquarters reminded Lincoln of some high-rise corporation. The halls were decorated with art, the doors sported engraved nameplates centered beneath the window. Lobbies were comfortable with expensive furniture, magazines, and great views.

  Lincoln held Victoria to his side as Preston led the group to Robert’s office after Byron’s interrogation.

  He couldn’t help thinking there might be hope for the guy. Forgive him? Eventually, but it would be a long time until he forgot, if eve
r.

  On the way to Robert’s office they saw another smaller display. Byron was still in the interrogation room. He wore a look of resignation and self-disgust.

  “I feel sorry for him,” Victoria admitted. “He bought into their lies.”

  One corner of his mouth tipped up. “How can you think you’re evil when you’re closer to forgiving someone who shot at you than I am?”

  Her eyes widened. “Why wouldn’t you forgive him?”

  His brow pinched. “He shot at you. He wanted to take your life.”

  And now she smiled. “But you kept me safe.”

  “You didn’t need me.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe not, but you did, and I got to see those gorgeous wings of yours.”

  He swallowed hard. “You like them?”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  Preston had stopped ahead of them. He wore a frown as he stared down the hall.

  Lincoln paused and looked. A tall, darker version of himself with dreadlocks materialized as he walked toward them. Lincoln’s curiosity met pale green eyes, so much like his own. As the man became more solid, the wings faded until he could pass for a human.

  Victoria froze beside him, staring.

  Lincoln took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. He could do nothing but stare as he clung to Victoria.

  “Where’s Hadraniel?” Preston asked.

  “Following me. I’m sure he’ll be here shortly,” the man answered with a slight indiscernible accent.

  Lincoln cleared his throat. “Jophiel?”

  His missing father nodded, a smile lifting his lips. “Your mother told you about me?”

  Lincoln could only stare in wonder as the questions swirled in his mind.

  Preston took a breath and tipped his head at the door. “Come inside, we’ll give these two some privacy.”

  He pushed the door open and stepped inside to hold it. Slater walked in.

  Victoria squeezed his hand gently. “I’ll be inside.”

  He reluctantly let go, not wanting to lose the comfort she provided.

  Jophiel smiled brightly. “How is she?”

  “Mother?”

  He nodded.

  “Gone,” Lincoln whispered. Shaking his head, he explained. “Cancer took her several months ago.”

  Pain flashed through his features. “Then I’m too late to make up for my absence.”

  “Not for me,” Lincoln blurted out and instantly regretted the words.

  Jophiel’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “You’re right. I apologize. I love your mother greatly, but right now, we have more important things to discuss. Like why you and a vampire are at the Silver Council Headquarters.”

  “Come inside,” Lincoln said before doing exactly that. He moved to Victoria, unsure what to feel. She took his hand again and he managed a weak smile.

  * * * *

  Dead, gone, and had he known he could have gone to Ethyl in the light. Jophiel’s heart squeezed tight. She’d likely never forgive him now.

  His son. Oh, his beautiful son. Twenty-seven years of life he’d missed. Guilt twisted through him, though it was no one’s fault. Could he still be a father to the man before him?

  Jophiel truly hoped he had a chance to make amends for missing out on so much.

  A second after the door closed, Hadraniel walked through the surface, materializing beside Jophiel. “Sorry I’m late.”

  * * * *

  Fear wove through Victoria. Trembling, she pressed closer to Lincoln who held her tighter. She knew the second angel. The memories of those dark years were fresh.

  Another town, and a different inn, but the same old story. Victoria slipped through the door and took in the crowd. Her goal was to pick a human, but that never worked unless there were no Others around.

  She could feel the feral power of a werecat. Following the call of blood, she sidled up next to a long, lean man.

  “Good evening,” Victoria murmured near his ear.

  He turned toward her with a leer that reminded her of Moncleve, and the way he used to watch her before her parents’ death.

  With practiced ease, his hand landed on her waist. “Are you available for the evening?”

  Her brow arched. He thought she was a prostitute. All the more reason to use the slimy bastard.

  “Right this way,” she whispered, leading him out the back, to the alley.

  He spun her around, her back hitting the wall as he went for her skirts.

  She caught his chin and traded places, her fangs sinking deep into his jugular.

  “Like it rough?” He pushed at her skirts, not at all deterred.

  Grabbing his balls, she twisted until a roar left his lips and fur flowed down his body as he bulked up and his clothes shredded. He shoved her to the ground, tearing her dress.

  Victoria’s nails easily cut past the thickened, fur-covered skin, and her fingers wrapped around his windpipe. She tore it clean from his body as she rolled him to his back. To be doubly-sure, she grabbed a handful of spine and yanked it out before running into the night.

  An angel stood before her, a tear trailing down his pristine cheek. He caught her shoulders and offered a sad smile. Piercing blue eyes full of compassion locked on hers. “You need to break this pattern, Victoria. Love yourself.”

  “I’m not worth saving. I’m damned. Why do you come to me?”

  “You’re not damned. You need to uncover your light.”

  “All I am is shadows in the darkness.” She looked down at herself, at the blood that covered her torn dress. “I killed this man because he reminded me of Moncleve.”

  “Granted, you rid the world of another monster, but that doesn’t make you one. Your light exists. You need to uncover it.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  Hadraniel shook his head as he walked toward her. “Oh no, don’t do that.” His deep blue eyes bored into hers as his voice soothed her. “You’ve more than made up for your hard past. Your soul is kind and generous. And regardless of popular belief, you are not damned to hell for being a vampire.”

  Her breath caught, and Lincoln pulled her into his arms as more tears ran down her face. She let him shield her gaze from everyone as Hadraniel’s words seeped into her, reassuring.

  “See, even an angel believes in your light,” Lincoln whispered against her ear.

  “You’re the only angel I need,” she quietly replied.

  He lay his cheek against her head, and Victoria felt his warmth though her whole body.

  Preston cleared his throat. “Well, looks like we should deal with introductions.”

  Lincoln kept her tucked under his arm.

  Preston nodded to each person. “This is Robert, my partner. You’ve met me. Slater, over there, is the Edenton pack alpha. Victoria is a resident of Edenton. Lincoln too. This is Jophiel, though I’ve met him exactly once. And Hadraniel, the biggest smartass I know.”

  Jophiel looked to Lincoln, and Victoria. His smile was hesitant. “How did you get your wings exactly?”

  Lincoln opened his mouth, but quickly shut it.

  Victoria gave Lincoln a genuine smile before turning to Jophiel. “By saving me from a shotgun blast. He protected me.”

  Jophiel nodded, light dancing through his eyes. “Sounds like your mother raised you right.”

  * * * *

  Lincoln wished he had a clue what to say. Clearly, his father still loved his mother very deeply. He craved the story, though feared the sadness.

  His father cleared his throat. “Later, after we sort this mess, we can talk about Ethyl, and why I disappeared from her life. If you’d like.”

  “All right,” he answered simply.

  Robert asked, “Do either of you know much about HARP? The shooter was a member, low in the hierarchy.”

  “Unfortunately, I know all too much about the organization. They held me captive, performed tests. Regretfully, by the time I escaped, your mother had vanished. I’ve spent years looking,
but I couldn’t find her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lincoln whispered.

  He shook his head. “Don’t be. You had nothing to do with her choices, and honestly, the way I disappeared, I can’t blame her for drawing the conclusion I was fallen.” He wet his lips. “I digress. That is something we can discuss later. Now that I am here, I will do everything in my power to help.”

  “As will I,” Hadraniel said, nodding his head and looking toward Preston. “Hopefully you have some information already?”

  “We have the shooter, though he seems to understand the error of his ways.” Preston rolled his eyes. “We also have his vampire brother, who was in a cage at an old hotel HARP was using as one of their bases. It’s since been abandoned. Considering Byron was tagged with a locator, they must have had reason to suspect we were coming, or at least someone.”

  “Is Jones still leading them?” Jophiel asked with venom in his voice, startling Lincoln.

  Robert nodded, a frown pinching his brow. “Yes. That’s what Byron says at least.”

  “Jones is not of this world. His demon half allows him to feed off fear, while his fae half makes him an excellent hunter. If he knew someone was coming, he probably suspects there is an abundance of powerful Others to collect.”

  “Collect? What does he do with them?” Preston asked.

  “He wants to create more like him. Hybrids who can hunt and cause terror. He studies them, looking for Others he can use to produce super-hunters. He has many already.”

  “So he’s feeding off his victim’s fears, the fears of what Others can do, and the fear left in the chaos of taking an Other?”

  Jophiel nodded. “Indeed.”

  Lincoln shook his head. “Why would he be after Victoria though?”

  Slater spoke up. “She’s a Shadowstalker. If he could change a hybrid, making them also a Shadowstalker, he could leash the dangerous creatures with their addiction.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head. “I don’t drink from Others anymore. And I wouldn’t change anyone!”