Lightbringer (Silverlight Book 4)

by Laken Cane

  I waited for him to finish, then slid my hands across the table. “Please,” I said, when he hesitated.

  He laced his fingers with mine.

  “I’m Trinity.” I pointed my chin at Jin. “This is Jin.”

  He glanced from me to Jin and then back to me. “Owen,” he said.

  “Owen.” I really, really hoped he found happiness, because his grief was overwhelming. “I’ll help you. It’s why I’m here.”

  “Hurry,” he told me. “I need to get back before it’s too late.”

  I was curious despite myself. “Where is home?”

  He smiled, and my stomach tightened. There was something about him. “Home is with my crew and the greatest woman I ever knew. I made a mistake. All of us did.” His voice had softened as he spoke and the mystery in his eyes hid the grief. “Find my path, Trinity. It’s unkind, but it’ll lead me home.”

  I believed him. I really did.

  He wasn’t the same as the others.

  His paradise wasn’t the afterlife.

  “I will,” I said. “I’ll send you home.”

  He glanced down at himself. “This is the first time I came through without my clothes. And my hat.”

  Jin spoke for the first time. “I’ll fetch you something to wear.”

  “Jin,” I called, before he could rush out of the room.

  He stopped and looked at me. “Yes?”

  “He’s not the same as the ones before, is he?”

  He glanced at Owen. “No. He is the same as me.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “He’s a Jikininki?”

  He sighed. “He’s not human. He never was.” He spoke to the stranger without looking at him. “You may never find your way. You can stay here.”

  But Owen shook his head, his long hair sliding over his shoulders. “No,” he said. “I can’t.”

  Jin was back shortly, carrying a small pile of neatly folded clothes and an old pair of boots. He placed them on the table. “Clayton will not mind.”

  “The night is unseasonably warm,” I murmured to Jin, as Owen dressed. I politely turned my eyes away while he hurriedly pulled on his borrowed clothes, but I’d seen enough to know that the one who held his heart was a lucky woman.

  Clayton arrived as the man was pulling on his boots. He stood behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders, then glanced at Owen. “Visitor?”

  “Yes,” I said. “And I’m about to send him home.”

  The two men exchanged nods.

  “This your guy?” Owen asked.

  “One of them,” I said.

  He lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.

  “What?” I asked. “Your woman doesn’t have more than one man?”

  His laugh was rusty. “Yeah. She really does.” Then he smoothed his shirt, almost nervously. “I’m ready. Send me back where I belong, Trinity.”

  If he were dead and had come through with a borrowed body, he’d leave it behind for Jin to dispose of.

  I hoped that wouldn’t happen.

  I closed my eyes and began to search for his path.

  “There are two of them,” I said, confused. I’d never seen two paths for one visitor before. And I had absolutely no idea which one to grab. “Two paths.”

  “Take the one that looks like it’s full of blood and nightmares,” he said. “That’s the unkind path to my unkind world. And that’s the one I need.”

  He would know. I just had a feeling.

  I squeezed his hands, then opened my eyes and looked at him. “Good luck.”

  He gave me a half smile and parted his lips to speak, then disappeared before the words could form. Disappeared as he’d appeared, only quieter.

  He left no body behind. Only a strange, almost sweet sort of sadness and an echo of a distant world I would never know.

  “Find peace, Owen,” I murmured.

  But I wasn’t sure such a thing really existed—for him or anyone else.

  Chapter Thirty

  PROMISES

  I stood, shaking off my sudden melancholia. “What did you find out, Clayton?”

  He stared for a few seconds at the spot the wanderer had vacated, then took the coffee Jin handed him and sat across from me. “Nothing. I found so sign of Rhys and no rumored sightings.”

  His worry was enormous.

  “He’ll be okay,” I murmured. “He’ll find his way back to us, Clayton.”

  He took a drink of his coffee. His expression didn’t change, but I knew he believed something dire had happened to Rhys. “Still nothing from the master?”

  “No.”

  And sitting around waiting for and worrying about my men was driving me crazy.

  “I’m going after Safin,” I said. “This time, I’ll kill him.”

  “You’re healed?” Clayton asked.

  “I’m healed enough.” I drew my sword and caressed her blade. “Her light is the only thing that can kill Darkness. And I have to do something. I can’t just sit here.”

  “We need Amias and Rhys to help fight them. And Angus. Be patient, Trinity. There aren’t enough of us to take on the executioners.”

  “You will make do,” Jin said, staring blankly at the stove, as though he knew he should be cooking but there was no one there to eat. “Call upon all the supernaturals. They will keep the executioners occupied so you can tend to Darkness.”

  I was curious. “Do you think I will defeat him, Jin?”

  He declined to answer that particular question, but told me something else, instead. “Himself and the elder are not at all certain.”

  Clayton narrowed his eyes. “What do you know, Jin?”

  Jin glanced at me, and I could feel his uncertainty. I could also feel his fear. “I know nothing.”

  “Jin.” I stood and went to him, then reached out to touch his arm. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  He looked down his nose at me. “You could not stop it.”

  A tiny zing of anger shot through me, and I realized that I was protective of the strange Jikininki. “I promise you I can.”

  He glanced from me to Clayton, who nodded. “We’ll protect you,” Clayton said. “Trust us. And tell us what you know.”

  “It would be disloyal,” Jin said.

  I frowned. “To whom?”

  “To him,” Jin whispered, and inclined his head toward the kitchen window.

  I craned my neck to peer out the window, drawing back with a shiver when I saw Himself standing in the yard, staring toward the house.

  He gave me the creeps sometimes.

  I knew he had the best interest of the supernats at heart, but still…

  “Jin,” Clayton said, firmly. “If you allow Trinity to go blindly into danger, you won’t have to worry about Himself harming you.”

  Jin swallowed so hard I heard the gulp. “She is aware of the danger.”

  “Is she?” Shane asked. He leaned against the doorframe, watching us.

  I brightened, immediately and unmistakably. I didn’t go to him, but whenever he wasn’t near me, some part of me went a little cold.

  Jin didn’t like Shane. At least not the new Shane. An odd feral look crossed his face when he caught sight of Shane, there and gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

  “Of course I’m aware,” I said. “I know how powerful Mikhail Safin is. I know I might not kill him.” I shrugged. “But I know I’ll try.”

  Shane crossed his arms. “There’s something wrong with Amias.”

  “Something,” Jin whispered.

  I sheathed Silverlight and went to Shane. “What do you mean?”

  “You feel it, too,” he said. “He made us.” He stared at me. “You feel it.”

  I shook my head but couldn’t say a word. Yeah, I felt it. I didn’t want to, but I did. “Something’s wrong,” I said. And I’d known it when I went to sleep without Amias and woke up without Amias and walked through the night without Amias.

  Something was wrong and it wasn’t Derry or Rhys or anyone else. It was my
fucking master.

  “Clayton,” I whispered.

  He slipped his arm around my waist. “I’m here.”

  “I need you to track Amias.”

  And before he could say anything or doubt himself or believe that tracking the master might be impossible, I once again drew Silverlight from her sheath.

  I ran my wrist over her sharp edge, opening a vein, then offered it to Clayton. “You’ll find his trail in this blood—it’s his blood. Follow it.”

  He didn’t hesitate. He took the blood inside himself, and even before he stopped drinking, I could see a change in him.

  Shane and I followed him from the house.

  “Leo,” I bellowed, as we followed Clayton. He wouldn’t be far, and we were going to need all the help we could get.

  He caught up with us before we’d left the front yard. “News from Angus?” was the first thing he asked.

  “No,” I told him. “We’re going after Amias. We’re going to go get him, then we’re kicking the shit out of Safin and his crew of assholes. Come with us. It’ll be fun.”

  Shane laughed and took another step out of the black pit of his anger. “That’s my freak of a girlfriend.”

  And despite everything, I smiled.

  “I see the fog,” Clayton murmured, not five minutes later. “It’s black.”

  My chest tightened with hope I was half afraid to feel. As Clayton—and the fog trail—led us further into the woods behind Willow-Wisp, I lifted my sword into the air and she began to glow with a soft light that lit up the night.

  “Killer flashlight,” Shane said.

  Then my cell rang. “Shit,” I muttered. I dug it out of my pocket, then forgot my irritation when I saw whose name was on the screen. “Angus! How’s Derry?”

  “She’s…” He blew out a hard breath. “Physically, she’ll heal. I’m worried about her state of mind.”

  “How are you using your cell? Did you leave the swamp?”

  “Just far enough to get a signal. Derry is sleeping, but she wakes often to make sure I’m here. I can’t upset her by going far.”

  There was frustration in his voice, and I understood. Angus wanted to go after the person who’d hurt his daughter, but his daughter couldn’t bear for him to go.

  So he would wait.

  But only for a little while.

  “I want to visit her.”

  “She’d like to see you.” Then his voice deepened. “I heard you took on the executioners alone.” And there was the smallest thread of anger in his voice.

  “Not alone.” I shrugged. “Safin hurt Derry. And after we find Amias, I’m going to kill him for that.”

  “I’m going to kill him for that.” His voice was dark enough to make me shiver. Angus was suppressing a hell of a lot of rage while he was with Derry, and he wanted to release every single bit of it on Mikhail Safin.

  I knew he couldn’t. “Silverlight and I are the only ones who have a chance at killing him,” I said. “He’s got some sort of protection surrounding him. You won’t get near him.” I softened my voice. “I’m sorry. But believe me when I say I will make him suffer for what he did.”

  His voice didn’t soften. “Trinity, I will kill him.”

  He could try. He would try.

  I believed Darkness wanted to fight Angus—just two alphas beating each other senseless—but I didn’t believe he would.

  The only way he could fight the werebull was to dissolve or at least weaken the ring of protection surrounding him—and he wouldn’t do that. He’d hurt Angus in other ways—like terrorizing his children.

  Darkness wanted to live to take the dragon more than he wanted to see if he could defeat Angus in a personal physical fight.

  But if I was wrong and Safin and Angus went at each other with fists instead of magic, I would be ready.

  If he lowered his protection and took on Angus, I was going to sneak in and run Silverlight through his cold, black heart. I wasn’t above a good sucker punch. Or sucker stabbing.

  So I told Angus what he needed to hear. I told him I wouldn’t face Safin again without him.

  I didn’t tell him we were tracking the master, that I feared something terrible had happened to him, or that Rhys was missing. He’d find out soon enough, and as he didn’t want to add to Derry’s stress, I didn’t want to add to his.

  I didn’t want to consider that we might not find Amias. That somehow, someone had gotten to him. Had driven a stake through his heart and had taken him from me.

  That he might be wandering in the despair, lost to me forever.

  I didn’t want to consider that.

  But I really just couldn’t seem to help myself.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  SEARCH

  Amias had been part of me since the night he’d nearly killed me on the street in front of my sister’s house. I could always feel him.

  But I didn’t feel him now.

  And I had only two hours before dawn.

  The longer we walked, the more worried I became. I walked beside Leo as we followed Clayton, and waited with grim hopefulness for him to announce that he’d finally found the master. Shane followed behind us, a little apart, as always.

  My fingers brushed Leo’s hand and after a tiny hesitation, he caught my hand in his, squeezing gently. “We’ll find him,” he promised.

  I nodded.

  Sure we would.

  “You’ve tried to meet with the council?” he asked. “Surely they know where he is.”

  “I don’t know where they are,” I said. “They hide from me. Not even Himself will tell me where they…live. Or whatever they do.”

  “I think they’re afraid of the part of you that belongs to the rifters.”

  “Belongs to the rifters,” I repeated, quietly.

  He glanced at me, then away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “They’re extraordinary and powerful,” I told him. “They’re not going to be afraid of me.”

  “You underestimate yourself.”

  I shook my head. “No. I know what I can do.”

  Shane walked up to my other side. “Clayton is leading us back to Willow-Wisp. We’re going in from the back.”

  He was right. I closed the distance between us and touched his arm, causing him to jerk.

  “He’s in Willow-Wisp after all?” I asked.

  He blinked and looked around. “He didn’t start in Willow-Wisp. But this trail is fresh. It’s like…”

  My fingers flew to my mouth. “He’s in the ground. He’s moving in the ground.”

  Clayton pointed. “If you’re right, his trail ends there. It’s not just dissipating because dawn is coming. That’s as far as he’s made it.”

  “I’m going down,” I said, releasing Leo’s hand. “If I find him, there might not be time to bring him up, depending on how…” I swallowed. “How injured he is.”

  “Why can’t we feel him?” Shane asked. “If he’s right under our fucking feet?”

  “I don’t know,” I murmured.

  Clayton pulled me into his arms. “You may need more blood to feed him. Take mine.”

  “Do it fast,” Shane said.

  I bit Clayton without hesitation, taking his offering gladly. I was trembling with fear, fear that grew by the second. Now that we knew where he was—sort of—I was terrified of what we’d find when we got there.

  I withdrew from Clayton. “I love you,” I told him. “Tell the others we’ll see them at dusk, and we’ll be bringing the master with us.”

  Then I sank into the ground, Shane at my side, and let the earth tell me where my master was. Even if I couldn’t find him, the ground could.

  “Tell me,” I whispered, and it did.

  In complete darkness, I grasped onto the string of energy Amias had left below, and I let it pull me through the thick layers of dirt.

  I wanted to sleep. We didn’t go into the ground to stay awake—especially not that close to dawn—and I had to fight hard to keep
my awareness.

  I felt Shane lose his fight. I would tunnel on alone.

  Down I went, deep, deeper still, farther down than I’d ever been. And finally, my reaching, desperate fingers touched something.

  Not him, though. Silver.

  No. God, no.

  Silver chains.

  They’d silver-wrapped the master and carried him as far down as they could, and they’d left him there, buried alive, starving, and alone.

  Oh, motherfuckers. I will end you.

  Humans often silvered and buried vampires. Often.

  But not this fucking deep.

  No human had hurt my master.

  The silver wasn’t touching his flesh—not yet. They hadn’t put him in a box. They’d covered his body with layers of heavy tarp, then wound the chains around it.

  It was as though they’d wanted to punish him, but weren’t willing to add burns to the torture of the burial.

  Maybe it was the coming dawn, my exhaustion, my fear, or the fact that I’d been without my dominant master, untended and uncomforted and unguided, but my mind began to creep back into its pre-Leo bite, and I became closer to the feral thing I’d been than the woman who’d been walking the earth a few short minutes earlier.

  And nothing mattered but Amias.

  Silver couldn’t hurt me.

  I broke the thick chains and unwound them from his body, then burrowed farther down so I could get them away from him. Their proximity would distress him. He’d feel their noxious, draining energy even if they weren’t directly touching him—especially when he was so very weak.

  I rushed back to him, willing myself awake, though dawn had come crashing into existence up top. Sluggish and almost numb I ripped the tarp from him, opened a vein in my wrist, wrapped my free arm around his cold, unmoving body, and shoved my bloody arm against his mouth.

  The blood would find him.

  Clayton’s blood, my blood—it all belonged to Amias.

  Now that the silver was gone, now that blood was in his mouth, bringing him back, I could feel him.