by Laken Cane
Leo didn’t yell or scream or try to peel me off him. His breath caught, he murmured something unintelligible, and then he cradled me to him. He could no more resist me than I could resist him.
Then something breathtaking happened.
It was as though my maturity clicked into place the very second I pierced his firm flesh with my needle-sharp baby fangs.
Leo couldn’t have said no if he’d have wanted to, because my naturally occurring vampire sway was abruptly out of control, and it held him like a flopping fish between a bear’s claws.
But then, someone I couldn’t shut out or brush off intruded into my hazy, hungry brain.
Amias flew through the night toward me, and though I felt him coming, felt his rage and his worry and his fear, I couldn’t pull myself away from Leo’s blood.
I wasn’t strong enough.
The master was, though.
He tore me away from the half-giant and it was like ripping a leech off a human’s leg. Even before Leo had stopped reeling backward from the shock of the feeding, Amias was flinging me into our house—the very house the city—the mayor—had given to him after I’d died.
The guards gathered around us, questioning, sniffing the air, their dislike of me obvious, though they would have given their lives for me—not only because the master demanded it, but because I was their dominant, just as Amias was mine.
They didn’t know why. I didn’t know why. But we all knew it was true.
Amias bore me to the floor and sat half on top of me, his fingers hard against my face as he turned it this way and that, his stare sharp and primal. “You are unhurt.” And then, before I could open my mouth to answer, he barked, “You fed.”
“I was hungry. Get the fuck off me.”
He jerked back in shock. “What?”
It was such a human thing for him to say that I wanted to laugh. I didn’t dare. I softened my voice. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”
But he continued to stare at me, and finally, I realized what he already understood. “I’m back,” I said. “Amias, I’m back.”
His expression didn’t change. “Do not call me Amias. Call me master.”
I curled my lip. “Get off me before I put you through the wall.”
“Fuck,” he said.
I did laugh then, but with tenderness.
Despite myself, I wanted to cling to him. I wanted him to carry me to the bedroom and undress me, to take me to a place where there was no fear or responsibility or uncertainty. A place where I was okay. A place of comfort.
I wanted to.
I didn’t.
It was time for me to return to the city, Bay Town, and the way station.
It was time for me to return to my men.
“It’s what you wanted,” I murmured. “I’m Trinity.”
Amias lowered his forehead to mine. “You are,” he agreed, but he sounded like I’d died.
Like he’d lost me.
And in a way, he had.
I turned my face and pressed my lips to his cheek. “I love you,” I whispered. “And I need you. That won’t change just because I’ve transitioned.”
He rubbed his lips over mine, urging them open, then slid his tongue inside my mouth to taste the memory of Leo’s blood.
I wondered if he realized that something in the half-giant’s blood had pulled me from the dark quicksand. And I wondered, for a second, if he would take umbrage.
But I was too full of life and energy and satisfaction to care. Leo’s blood sang through me, and it felt better than anything I’d ever known.
I certainly wasn’t going to tell Amias that.
He stood, finally, offering me a hand up.
“I almost got clipped by some asshole’s wild bullet,” I said.
Amias smiled, but there was only death in his eyes. He turned to his guards. “Find him.”
They nodded and disappeared through the doorway, and one of the vampires rushed to close the door behind them.
“I have to go home,” I told him, abruptly urgent. “I’ve been away for too long.”
He didn’t move. “Yes.”
“Will you come with me?”
He shook his head slowly, not taking his stare from mine. “You will go alone to reunite with the group and reacquaint yourself with…” He shrugged. “With your future. I will be here when you need me.” He ran his fingers over my cheek. “And you will need me. Do not be stubborn when the time comes.”
I frowned. “Of course not.”
He opened his arms. “Let me have one moment before you go. A moment that is only mine.”
I stepped into his arms. “I am yours.”
But I was different, and we both knew that.
It was like I’d been trapped in a thick, endless fog for decades, and had just found my way out. But I loved Amias Sato. I loved him with an ancient, consuming passion that went beyond a woman’s love for a man. He was inside me. He’d brought me back. He was my maker. And that would not end just because I could walk away.
I had things to do. I had to let the supernaturals know I was no longer imprisoned inside my vampire head. I had to find Shane. I had to contribute to the quickly changing city, court the humans, protect the vampires. I had to make sure the executioners didn’t get to Rhys.
Most of all, I had to be with my men.
I realized something that sent a trickle of unease through me. I wanted to care more than I actually cared. I needed to feel something. I needed to feel alive. With Leo’s blood inside me, I did.
It was more of an excitement, an eagerness to experience everything as a vampire, a craving to taste more than just Amias. More, even, than just Leo.
I drew back and searched the master’s familiar black gaze. “It wasn’t because I was turned that things were so bad with me—that I was lost and undeveloped and regressive. It wasn’t just because I’m a vampire.”
He said nothing, but his eyes wavered.
“Amias. Please.”
“No, my love.” He closed his eyes. “You’re not only a vampire.”
“What…” I cleared my throat and tried again. “What am I?”
“You know, but I will say it anyway. You were bitten by rifters. You’ve been turned by rifters. I am not your only maker.”
He was right. I’d known. All the vampires had sensed it, which was why they looked at me with such distaste, even as they held me in esteem.
Amias tugged on a coarse hank of hair that snaked over my cheek. “Rifter hair,” he whispered.
I left him, then. I rushed from the house and through the city, marveling at my awareness, my strength, my speed. I should have been devastated and broken and enraged because I’d died, because I was no longer human, because I was a vampire, for God’s sake, a fucking vampire…
And even worse than anything else, I was a savage, horrifying rifter.
But I was not upset. I was not human enough to be upset.
And Leo…
Leo had yanked me from the fog.
The half-giant would be mine.
He just didn’t know it yet.
Too soon, I stood outside the way station, softly swirling snowflakes sticking in my hair, and stared at the house.
They were in there. My men.
The werebull, the freed hunter, the dragon.
And Leo.
Leo was in there.
He was going to feel something about me, about what I’d done to him. I’d attacked him, had taken his blood without asking.
No matter what he said, he was going to be affected by that.
Light poured from uncovered windows, as though they’d thought I wouldn’t find my way back otherwise. Strangely reluctant to go inside, I continued to stand there, watching.
Once I walked through those doors, there was no going back.
Once I went inside the way station, I was going to take my rifter to the men, to the path wanderers, to the city. And the small part of human that remained rebelled against that. Because I was
afraid I would hurt them.
I would hurt them all, in the end.
I was a vampire woman full of darkness.
And I was about to take it to them.
I strode across the yard and up the porch steps, and I flung open the door.
“Honeys,” I called. “I’m home!”
Chapter Nine
STORM
They’d been gathered in the kitchen, of course. I heard the sharp sounds of chairs scraping the floor, then heavy footsteps as the men I loved rushed to greet me.
Angus was the first one through the doorway. “Trin,” he bellowed, and yanked me into his massive arms.
Clayton and Rhys reached us a second later and I found myself looking around for Shane before I remembered that Shane had fled.
Leo hung back with Jin the Jikininki.
I closed my eyes and pressed against the three warm bodies holding me. I was where I belonged. Undead or not, I was incomplete without them.
“She’s not the same,” Jin said suddenly, his voice strident and accusing. “She came back as something ev—”
Rhys drew back, just a little. “Shut the fuck up, man.”
I kept my eyes closed, unconcerned, concentrating on what I would feel, what I could feel.
Jin wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.
They wrapped me up in their arms, holding me so tightly I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t need to breathe. I only needed to be.
Finally, they released me.
“It’s like I just woke up,” I said.
Angus snagged my hand, then squeezed my fingers. He smiled, but his stare was sharp and serious. Probing.
All of them wondered if their Trinity was really inside the familiar body.
“You shouldn’t have come here alone,” Leo said.
“Don’t worry, Leo. They can’t hurt me with their guns and they can’t catch me with their stakes.”
Even if they did manage to stake me, not even that would kill me, unless they did as the captain had threatened to do and deprived me of my head and heart.
And at the very least, I’d make them work for it.
“Things will be okay now,” Rhys murmured. “I have to say, love, that disappearing right after I won my freedom to have sex wasn’t very nice of you.” But there was no smile in his voice.
And I flashed suddenly to the night I sat atop his back, the dragon’s back, wind screaming past my ears as he carried me to the island. To my death.
In his eyes was the same memory, dressed in guilt and sorrow.
“No,” I murmured. I touched his cheek. “We all did what we had to do. No more guilt.”
He grabbed my fingers and pressed his lips to them. “Trinity,” he whispered. “I still need to say I’m sorry. I need you to know.”
“I do know.” I caught them all in my gaze. “And I know the world is a better place because we cared enough to change it.”
“We killed you,” Angus said, his voice rusty and full of pain. “We let you die.”
“It was always meant to be,” I told him. “And I’m here. Because of all of you. Right now. This moment is what we have.” I hesitated. “But Jin's right. I’m not the same.”
Angus shrugged. “We’re all changed, Trin.”
Clayton patted Blacklight, the sword forged from Miriam. “What happened to Silverlight?”
“I don’t know,” I told him. “If she’s still inside me, I no longer feel her. I can’t call her.”
“You’re home,” Leo said. “And that’s all that matters. The rest will sort itself out.”
I looked at him then, my gaze going to his neck. “Did I hurt you?”
He looked everywhere but at me. “No.”
“What happened?” Angus asked, frowning.
“I bit him.” My voice was calm but excitement swirled inside me at the memory. I wanted to do it again. I wanted his taste in my mouth, my memory, my body. Wanted it, because I’d never felt anything like it—not even in the master’s blood. “He’s the reason I came back.”
Leo did look at me then, surprise in his eyes. “What?”
“Your blood…” I shook my head. “I don’t know. It did something to me. It made me well. It made me whole.” I shrugged. “As whole as I’m going to be, I think.”
“You’re cold,” Jin said, unable, it seemed, to keep his mouth shut. “Your coldness will continue to grow as your humanity shrinks.”
I knew what he meant. I could feel it. “My softness is gone.”
He nodded, his stare on the floor. “But you cannot be soft and lead the vampires.”
“I’m not leading them. That’s what the master is for. That’s what the council is for.” I looked around. “Speaking of the council, where’s the elder Himself replaced me with?”
“He’s in Willow-Wisp,” Clayton said. “Now that you’re back, he can return to his place with the council.” He didn’t add, “I hope,” but it was there in his eyes.
“Is he an irritation?” I asked.
“He’s a vampire elder,” Angus answered.
I frowned, confused. “So?”
“So he believes the supernaturals are part of the vampires, and therefore under his thumb,” Rhys said. “He’s extremely…”
“Bossy,” Leo said. “And the supernaturals will never allow a vampire to rule them.” Then he blanched as he realized what he’d said. As he realized he was openly contemptuous about the very creature I’d become.
“I see,” I said.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” he told me. “I didn’t mean you.”
“It’s not the same,” Angus said. “You’re not—”
“I’m a vampire,” I interrupted. “And we all have things to get used to.” I patted my pocket. “I’m going to need a cell phone.”
“Trinity.” Clayton squinted at me, unsure. “Are you truly not traumatized by the fact that you’re now one of the undead?”
And they wondered if I had allowed myself to think about the horror of being torn to pieces by rifters, of sacrificing myself, my humanness, for the city.
I shrugged. “Guys, I’m fine. I’m no longer human. I’m not going to cry over my circumstances. I’m immortal.” I looked around at all of them, showing them my truth. “I won’t have to leave any of you. I’ll live forever. I’m a powerful woman. What’s there to be upset about?”
I’d experienced life as a human—a weak, puny, ineffectual, vulnerable human—and I’d experienced the despair of a vampire’s afterlife. Both those things would make a person appreciate the hell out of life as a vampire.
As they frowned at me, realizing I really wasn’t the same as the old, emotional Trinity, the girl they’d had to handle with such care, I heard the crunch of tires on the way station driveway.
“Someone’s coming,” I said.
Someone was bringing news to the way station, and I knew without a doubt that it wasn’t going to be good news.
I felt it in my strong, cold vampire bones.
Jin rushed to open the door and peer out into the night. “It’s a friend.”
He was right. Alejandro Rodríguez slipped through the doorway, his stare going straight to me.
“Alejandro.” I held out a hand to him, but he ignored the hand and pulled me with unflinching joy into his arms.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” he said, a smile in his voice.
“You’re not disgusted,” I realized.
He drew back, his eyebrows high. “I’m never disgusted by heroes. I’m humbled by them. And I’d be honored if you’d accept me as your human assistant.”
I squeezed his hand. “The honor would be mine. Thank you, Al.”
Rhys clapped him on the back. “Good to see you, man, but I get the feeling you’re not here to welcome our girl home.”
Alejandro sobered, squeezed my hand, and nodded. “The executioners that were being sent to Red Valley? They’ll be arriving soon.” He looked at Rhys. “We need to prepare for the storm that’s
coming with them.”
Chapter Ten
RESURRECTION
Fear, immediate and sharp, flooded the room. It tasted like metal on my tongue, and for a moment, dizziness overwhelmed me.
It wasn’t my fear, though. It was the fear, knowledge, and unending horror that took up residence in a supernatural’s soul at birth and never left.
My hyperawareness was excruciating.
But it dimmed as I swayed on my feet, and I eagerly shoved it away and grabbed huge handfuls of the cold hardness I preferred and wrapped it around my heart.
Being a vampire wasn’t all fun and games.
“Killers,” Clayton murmured.
“Mercenaries,” Rhys said, and when I narrowed my eyes and looked at him, he refused to meet my stare.
“Little bitches,” Angus said, but his voice was raw.
There were always going to be covert, top secret, dark and dangerous government organizations. One of them—probably a branch of Homeland Security, though that was not known for certain by anyone other than the government—took it upon themselves to declare certain supernaturals a threat to humankind.
Those supernaturals were executed, caught and used as weapons, kept alive for the curiosity of scientists, or, if the stories were true, sold to wealthy humans with dark agendas.
That branch of human government had sent people after the dragon.
“They won’t get Rhys,” I said.
“Who knows the dragon’s identity?” Al asked. “Besides the people in this room, of course.”
“Crawford,” Angus said. “Most of the vampires.”
“The vampires are not a risk,” I said. “But Crawford might be.”
They looked at me.
“Would you kill Crawford to keep me safe, Trinity?” Rhys asked, a curious glint in his eyes.
“Absolutely,” I replied, without hesitation, and did not miss the quick, furtive glance the supernaturals exchanged.
Al frowned. “It’ll take time,” he told them.
There was nothing I could do about their worry. They’d have to get used to me, just as I’d have to get used to me.
“Apparently I’m not very sweet,” I said.
