Lightbringer (Silverlight Book 4)

by Laken Cane

  “It’s the truth.”

  A child screamed, her voice so sharp and sudden and shocking that I dropped the phone. Someone yelled—Edgar, I thought—and finally, the screams turned to sobs. I picked the phone up with a shaking hand, thankful Angus wasn’t there to hear his little girl’s torment.

  “Now, Trinity,” Safin said, over the quiet sobs. “Do the elders still have the dragon?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. “Motherfucker. They still have the dragon. I can’t get to him. I’m trying.”

  He didn’t believe me. “I’ll call again soon to see if you’ve retrieved him. If you haven’t, there’s really no reason to keep this little one alive, is there?”

  “I will kill you,” I murmured, unable to keep the rage from my voice.

  “No,” he disagreed. “You will bring me the dragon. That is what you will do.”

  I cut the connection, then turned to my men. They stood at the table, their food forgotten, their faces pale. Shane quietly closed the kitchen door, then sat down, not looking at anybody, but Amias walked to me and put his arms around me. He must have known I needed the comfort.

  I heard the rumble of Angus’s truck as he neared the house.

  Jin turned from the stove. “You cannot give him what he wants.”

  “Yeah, no shit, Jin,” Shane said.

  “I have to,” I told them. “He’s hurting her.”

  “He’ll believe you when his continued torture achieves nothing but a suffering child,” Leo said.

  “Fuck a dragon,” Shane said. “We have to find Safin.”

  Clayton nodded. “And we have to find him now. Trinity, I’ll try to track him. I need something with his scent.”

  Angus’s footsteps were heavy as he walked toward the kitchen. He was bloody, and his stare was empty. “News?”

  I swallowed hard, then lied to him. “No.” I went to him and despite his grime, I wrapped my arms around him and held him. “Nothing yet. But Clayton thinks he can track Safin if we can find something with his scent on it.”

  “And Jamie is still attempting to break the walls,” Leo said.

  Angus nodded, then extracted himself gently from my arms. “I’m going to clean up.” He turned back at the doorway, looking from one of us to the other. “I didn’t kill the wolf.” Then he walked away.

  My heart broke for him.

  “Let’s go,” I told Clayton. “Safin will have left his scent on something at the motel. We’ll find it, and then we’ll find him.”

  “Trinity,” Leo said. “What did you do with the clothes you were wearing when you fought Safin?”

  I put my hand to my chest. “I left them on my bathroom floor.”

  “Perfect,” Clayton said. “Go get them.”

  But Jin cleared his throat and stared at the floor when we looked at him. “They are in the barrel out back. I threw them away, but I have not burned them yet.”

  I headed for the back door. “Let’s go sift through the trash.”

  Alejandro joined us when he heard us at the trash barrel. “Lose something?”

  “The clothes I wore when Safin and I fought,” I told him. “How’s Jamie coming along?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing yet.”

  Maybe I didn’t really want Jamie to be successful. And maybe I wouldn’t admit that to anyone but myself.

  I held up a bag triumphantly after a few minutes of digging. “Found them.”

  Clayton took the strip of cloth that had once been a shirt from my fingers, and delicately held it to his nose. He shuddered.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I smell your stripped flesh,” he said, lowering the filthy cloth. “It’s…harsh.”

  “Try again,” I urged. “Catch what lies beneath my scent.”

  But he crumpled the cloth in his fist and buried the fingers of his free hand in my hair. “I’m sorry.” He lowered his mouth to mine.

  “For what?” I murmured, against the lusciousness of his lips.

  “For your pain,” he said. “That I didn’t stop it.”

  He wasn’t just talking about my fight with Safin.

  I cupped his cheek and caressed his smooth, cake-scented skin. “And I’m sorry I didn’t stop yours.”

  He drew back, just a little. “You did, Trinity.”

  “Get Safin’s scent,” Shane said, his voice rough, “before dawn makes us useless.”

  After one last lingering kiss, Clayton once again put the strip of cloth to his nose. He closed his eyes and pulled the scents deep into his brain.

  I remembered well how it felt to catch a scent and follow it all the way to my prey. The thrill of that chase, the satisfaction of the kill. I remembered. The memory was not lost to me, and someday, I would track again. I believed I would.

  Angus walked up behind me and slid a hand around my waist.

  I leaned back against him, wishing we could go inside and lie in each other’s arms. It seemed like forever since we’d had a moment to ourselves that wasn’t wrapped in fear or worry.

  “I have his scent,” Clayton murmured. “But I can’t…” He sniffed the air, his eyes closed. “I can’t smell it past this cloth.”

  “It’s the protection surrounding him,” I said. “You can’t touch him, smell him, hurt him. And we can’t find him.”

  Angus said nothing.

  “Wolf,” Amias warned, and then a wolf, huge and raging, raced toward us.

  Not us, really. He wanted Angus.

  Angus snarled as he turned to face the attacker, but he didn’t bother shifting.

  The wolf leapt, flew through the air, and collided with the object of his wrath.

  Teeth snapping, he went for Angus’s throat.

  “Dumbass,” Shane muttered.

  Angus buried his fingers in the wolf’s fur, slung him to the ground, and proceeded to beat the hell out of him.

  My cell rang. “Fuck,” I muttered, then yanked it from my pocket as I left Angus to punish the wolf. “Crawford?”

  “Trinity, Safin is attacking the city.”

  I put a hand to my chest and stopped walking, stunned. “What?”

  “We need you,” he said, and then was gone.

  But I’d heard the sounds loud and clear. Screams, gunshots, sirens.

  Safin was attacking the fucking humans.

  He’d gone mad.

  “The humans are under attack,” I told the men. “Safin is in the city.”

  Amias straightened. “He’s gone mad,” he said, echoing my exact thoughts. “We must go.”

  “Go,” I said, my stare on Angus, who continued punching the wolf. He appeared not to have heard me. “I’ll follow you in.”

  He sprinted away, already calling for the vampires. I felt that call the same as they would.

  Clayton and Alejandro jogged toward their cars around front. Leo started after them, then paused at my side. He looked at Angus. “Should I—”

  “No.” I reached out to squeeze his arm. “Go kill some executioners. I’ll take care of Angus.”

  Leo nodded. “Shane?”

  Shane shook his head. “I’ll come in with Trinity.”

  I strode to Angus and leaned over to get in his face. “Angus, the city is under attack.”

  He stared down at his victim, his fist raised. I didn’t know what he was seeing, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t the wolf.

  “Angus,” I said, my voice sharp enough to cut through his bloodlust. I put my palms on either side of his face. “Safin is in the city.”

  The wolf passed out, and automatically shifted back to his human form. He was unconscious for only a few seconds. When he opened his eyes his rage had fled, leaving only a hopeless sadness in its place.

  “You killed my brother,” he said, dully. “And I can’t even avenge his death.”

  “He’s not dead,” I said, wondering just how many brothers Carlos had. “Angus kicked his ass, but he didn’t kill him.”

  Hope crept into the wolf’s widening eyes. “Not dead?”r />
  Angus gave his head a hard shake to clear it, then got off the wolf. When he looked at me, his eyes were clearer.

  “The executioners are attacking the humans?”

  I nodded.

  “You didn’t kill my brother?” The wolf cried. “Where is he?”

  “It is my right to kill him,” Angus growled. “But he can’t suffer in death, can he?”

  “You should also blame our alpha,” the wolf said, his words thick and mangled through his swollen, split lips. “She forced my brother to lead Safin to the tunnels. She made Carlos go in and get the child. She is the one you should kill.”

  “Angus,” I said. “We have to get to the city.”

  “Please,” the wolf said. “We need help. None of us is strong enough to challenge her.” He glanced at Angus and then away, and though his thoughts remained unspoken, he was easy to read. He wanted Angus to go after the alpha.

  Angus curled his lip and turned away.

  “I can tell you where Darkness is hiding,” the wolf whispered. “If you will kill my alpha.” He lifted his chin and managed, despite sprawling on the ground, naked and bloody, to show a bit of spirit. “Is that a trade you are willing to make?”

  Angus yanked him from the ground and held him dangling in midair. “Safin is in the city, attacking the humans.”

  “No,” the wolf said, his voice thick. “That’s a distraction. He’s gone to the Deluge. He will prepare for you there. His final attempt.” Then he squealed and kicked his legs when Angus’s grip tightened.

  Angus dropped the wolf, then turned to look at Shane and me, the hapless wolf already forgotten. “He’s likely lying, but we have to check.”

  “Shane and I will meet you there,” I said. We didn’t really believe Safin was hiding in the swamp with the healers while his men attacked the city, but we would see for ourselves.

  I doubted Angus heard me. He was already running to his truck.

  I’d get to the Deluge before he did. Still, I would wait for him at the entrance. If the enemy was there, we’d go in and face him together, as we should.

  There were only a couple of hours before dawn arrived. That’s how long I had to kill Mikhail Safin—and I had to kill him. I had to find him, and I had to kill him.

  I absolutely could not fall into sleep and leave my men to face him alone.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  DELUGE

  I worried about Rhys.

  I imagined him battering himself against the invisible walls of his prison, screaming words no one would hear. The elders would release him after we’d succeeded in destroying the threat, but I had to wonder…

  Would he remain unbroken when they did? Or would his sudden and confusing confinement have driven him mad?

  It had changed the rifters. I didn’t like to think of Rhys there—wherever there was—alone and confused.

  The barely visible dirt path leading to the Deluge veered abruptly off the main road. If a person didn’t know what they were looking for, they would likely miss the turn—especially in the darkness. There were no signs, only overgrown weeds, potholes, dampness, and deep ditches.

  I slowed to a walk and Shane and I silently jumped the ditch at the side of the road, then continued on through the deep woods.

  “It feels good to run like that,” I said.

  “I can’t remember what it was like not to,” he told me.

  “Me neither.” It was as though we’d always been vampires.

  In the distance, the angry roar of an automobile grew louder. Angus was coming.

  We crept on in silence for a few seconds. “The heaviness of this area feels like Raeven’s Road,” I said. “Do you remember…”

  I trailed off, because there were so many things to remember about Raeven’s Road. And most of them involved Shane.

  I caught his stare, memories of a not so distant past strong in my mind. I’d fallen in love with him there. Had fought vampires with him, and demons, and had fucked him for the first time there. I’d nearly gotten him killed on that road, and had given him to Amias to save his life.

  Raeven’s Road held little but violence and pain and desolation; still, I would always feel a bittersweet nostalgia when I thought of it.

  Shane didn’t look away, perhaps as lost in the memories as I was. The cold moon watched us, kindly lending a mellow brightness to the night, and the air was fresh and chilly. But nothing could dispel the heavy dread of the swamp. It was a harsh place.

  The Deluge, despite its similar heaviness, was about to add another dark chapter to its grim story, and I knew I would never think of it with nostalgia. Safin had already seen to that.

  Shane held out a hand and I hesitated, unsure of what he wanted. Then I realized he wanted to touch me, and with a quiet sigh of relief, I went to him.

  “Baby hunter,” he murmured.

  I held him as tightly as I could without hurting him, and I imagined he was doing the same to me. I buried my face against his warm neck and forced myself to remain quiet, but I couldn’t stop a few wayward tears from wetting his skin.

  No one knew what would happen that night.

  And not even Shane could maintain a grip on his rage when he knew that night might see us all destroyed.

  Angus surprised me. As overflowing with worry as he was, as much as he needed to rush the Deluge, find Safin, and save his daughters, he came in quiet.

  He’d parked his truck away from the swamp, and we continued to the Deluge together.

  “He may not be here,” I said. “Why would he send his men to the city without him?”

  Shane shrugged. “Why would he attack the humans at all?”

  “Maybe there’s no reason,” Angus said, his voice a quiet rumble. “Maybe he’s just lost his mind and is going on a rampage to kill everyone in his path.”

  “I don’t like this,” I said. “It doesn’t feel right.”

  But we continued grimly on.

  I pulled Silverlight from her sheath, holding my breath as I willed her to remain dark and quiet. She did, and there was only a soft snick when she left the scabbard.

  “Shane and I will go in, find the girls, and get them to safety,” Angus said.

  “I’ll handle Safin.” Then I added, “And if I can, I’ll save him for you.”

  He shook his head. “If you can kill him, kill him.”

  Angus no longer cared about revenge. He just wanted the son of a bitch dead.

  The healers had chosen their seclusion well. The swamp was unfriendly. Dense, wet, and tricky, the closer we got to the healers’ cabins, the harder it was to walk.

  A rustic, slightly treacherous road led to the cabins, but it was an easily ambushed road, and anyone traveling it would be seen from those in the cabins. We did not want Safin, if he was indeed there, to see us coming.

  The tangled vegetation was thick and rife with long, sharp briars, and sucking mudholes gobbled at our shoes like greedy monsters. I stood in muddy water to my thighs and felt flashes of pain, there and gone, and realized that buried silver, combined with the water, would make it difficult for vampires to set foot near the cabins.

  And I wondered what the healers were hiding from. No one but people desperate to hide would choose to live in such a hostile place.

  The area thinned out and abruptly, the healers’ cabins appeared. We crouched behind the trees, watching, listening, getting the feel of the place.

  “He’s in there,” I whispered, finally, and both Angus and Shane nodded.

  Safin was in that house.

  We had a chance to surprise him, and all we could do was take it.

  The thought had barely entered my mind when a crack echoed through the night.

  The second before someone shot at us, Angus, standing in front of Shane, leaned over to look at something on the ground. The bullet meant for him hit Shane, instead.

  Shane was flung backward from the force of it entering his head, and the last thing I heard before my mind flew into chaos was the m
aniacal sound of someone laughing.

  I screamed, sure that Shane was dead before I remembered he was a vampire—he would survive a bullet wound to the head. I fell to my knees beside him even as he opened his eyes and began to heal.

  He would be okay.

  But if Angus had taken the bullet, he would most certainly not have been.

  Angus had already shifted. With his hooves kicking up great clumps of wet earth, he raced into the clearing.

  The next shot took me in the arm as I leaned over Shane. I heard a distant, strangled scream as I half fell atop my downed hunter, and I knew Angus had found the shooter.

  But there were others.

  Safin had known we’d come.

  It was time to fight.

  To kill.

  To take back our city from the darkness.

  A zing of joy shot through me, and I didn’t feel bad about it.

  I freed the rifter much as Jamie would free the dragon—I hoped. I shattered the walls around that dark beast and she rushed out to engulf me, and I was ecstatic.

  The rifter wasn’t so afraid.

  The rifter was simply a bloodthirsty killer.

  Like Mikhail Safin.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  POSSESSION

  The main cabin was surprisingly large and possessed a wide, wraparound porch, and was surrounded by three smaller buildings. All of them were raised off the damp ground and were accessible by what seemed like miles of old, wooden steps leading up to the front doors. Even if Safin and his crew hadn’t been there, shooting as us, I would have thought the place was grim and creepy.

  There were too many sounds—roars, shouts, screams, gunshots, barking dogs, distant sirens—and they battered my sensitive ears until I was unable to really hear anything. I couldn’t separate the sounds, couldn’t absorb what I needed and toss the others to the side, but I rushed on through the mud and splashed through the water, my mind in chaos but my stare steady on the cabin.

  Safin was in there. The only thing that would end the battle was his death, and I meant to make that happen.

  He walked out of the house, bold and calm, and stood on the porch. “Aspen,” he called.