Chapter Eleven

A Moment of Peace

 

Amias followed me from Willow-Wisp. He said nothing, did not touch me, or look at me, or acknowledge that I was there.

He’d closed himself off, not just to me, but to everyone. His face was expressionless, his eyes blank, and he was so empty that if he hadn’t moved, I might not have been able to see him.

“They turned the humans tonight,” I told him as my men and I walked out of the cemetery. “With a single feeding. There were no processes, no coddling, no exchanges of blood. They fed from them, and the humans turned.”

“But not into rifters,” he said, unsurprised. “The humans they turn will be useless to them. Rifters cannot make more of themselves by biting a human, though that is one of their fondest wishes—and they do not want to make more vampires.”

I nodded. “So they’ll kill after they feed to keep from making more of their enemy.”

“Yes. Vampires can feed without turning. We can feed without killing. Rifters will simply kill those they bite.”

I hesitated. “Why are you so sad, Amias?”

I felt his fear, his dread, and his anger. But more than any of those, I felt his sadness. It was deep, and it was harsh.

His almost silent laugh sounded more like a sob. “Trinity. Trinity.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked him. “What are you keeping from me?”

His eyes rimmed with the scarlet of bloody tears, and that scared me more than anything. I grabbed his arm as he turned away. “Amias. Tell me.”

“When this ends, you will not be the same.” He put his hands on either side of my face, his stare intense. “You will not be the same, and I grieve the loss. Even now, I grieve.”

“Amias…”

He dropped his hands and stepped back. “More rifters will appear in the city soon. I want to be waiting for them.”

“My hunters and I will see you there,” I told him.

He nodded, and then he was gone.

I wished I could have helped him, but there was nothing a person could do to stop those pesky gut feelings. Mine was giving me fits over Shane.

Both of us would be fine.

Part of me actually believed that.

I stood for a minute with my eyes closed, feeling a peace in the night that wasn’t real, listening to the frogs, inhaling the summer air. I heard the distant murmurs of the supernats still in Willow-Wisp. For that moment, there was only perfection.

I heard Shane and Clayton talking and opened my eyes, watching as they stocked Clayton’s car with supplies before we headed back into the city.

Clayton had taken possession of Miriam’s car. I hadn’t really liked the fact that he was driving around in a reminder of his former cruel mistress, but it wasn’t like he would somehow forget his past if we drove her car into the river. He’d said there was no reason to waste a good vehicle, that it belonged to him now.

I hadn’t argued.

Angus and Leo stood on the way station porch watching us, their voices low, comforting rumbles as they talked, and occasionally Angus’s laugh would burst free, making me smile.

There was still that changed darkness inside him. The Byrdcage had done something terrible to him, but he’d been hiding it well. I didn’t know what was lying in wait inside him. I knew eventually it would rear its terrifying head—but he was controlling it.

For now.

Clayton dropped half a dozen newly sharpened stakes into the trunk of his car, bringing my attention back to him. His eyes gleamed as he ran his thumb over the wood, and I shivered. There was something new in his proud gaze, something I didn’t recognize. Part of me wondered if I knew Clayton Wilder any better than I knew Rhys Graver.

Shane climbed into his truck without a goodbye to anyone, but Clayton took my face in his hands and lingered over that touch before sliding his lips across mine. When he touched me, or kissed me, there was nothing else. It held all my attention. He held all my attention.

He’d been deprived for too long for there to be anything better than the freedom to touch a woman. His woman.

Still, the shadow of Miriam squatted like a malignant lump between us, and neither of us could totally relax. Couldn’t allow ourselves to feel all the joy that waited, because she was there, crouching, grinning, biding her time.

As much as I wanted to believe otherwise, Miriam was not going to just disappear from our lives. From his life.

She could not be killed. And he was terrified she’d return to take control once again. We all were.

“She’s not coming back,” I murmured, against his lips.

He pulled away, just a little. “She will.”

“If she does, I will never let her take you. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”

“We won’t let her take you,” Angus said, coming up behind me. He pressed his warmth against me, and my breath slid out in a slow, blissful hiss.

Nothing felt better than being surrounded by those men.

Shane gave his horn a tap. “Let’s go, baby hunter,” he called.

“He needs to stop calling you that,” Angus muttered.

I grinned. “It’s an endearment.”

Angus patted my ass. “Be careful,” he said, before he strolled back toward the house. Leo had disappeared—most likely he was in the kitchen eating another chicken. The man did like to eat, and no wonder. He was huge.

Angus had told me that Leo had been starved in the Byrdcage because they’d discovered early on that food deprivation was worse than just about anything else they could do to him.

“Sometimes they’d feed him, then beat him until he threw it up. Then they’d—”

“I don’t want to hear any more.”

“Sorry, Trin.”

And then I’d been ashamed because Angus needed to talk. He needed to tell someone about the hell they’d lived through. I’d decided then to toughen up and let him tell his stories, but he hadn’t attempted to share the horror with me since.

I hadn’t pushed.

We drove down the way station driveway, a tiny procession of vampire hunters, and I let my window down to enjoy the late summer night air. It was fresh and almost too chilly, and I could smell autumn creeping in, waiting to pounce. I didn’t want winter to arrive with its muddy snow, icy temps, and gray skies, but I wasn’t the weather god. And that was just too bad.

Suddenly, the weather was the last thing on my mind. The earth seemed to shake when a demon landed in front of my car. He smashed his fist down on the hood and roared, and smoke, gray and wispy in the moonlight, rose like dust from his body.

I was so startled I shrieked, and my shrill vocal alarm echoed through the air. I didn’t hesitate though—I slammed my foot down on the gas with every intention of smashing his big body between my car and Shane’s truck.

But he was a demon, and he wasn’t powerless, weak, or slow.

He’d tossed my last car into the air and exploded it the first time I’d encountered him, and that was on my mind when I charged him.

I didn’t want him destroying my new car—especially not with me still inside it.

I yanked the wheel to the side and slammed on the brakes, and almost before I left my seat Silverlight was screaming to life.

The demon paused, his eyes wide as he witnessed her arrival. “Impossible,” he murmured.

I didn’t stop to think about anything. I let instinct rule me, and I went on the offensive immediately. I sent Silverlight through the air toward him. She was fast. Impossibly fast. Faster than a master vampire fast.

But the demon, despite his shock at seeing her slide from my body, had his own sword.

He ripped it from the sheath at his back, and its light, blacker than the night, brighter than the moon, stopped Silverlight in her tracks.

The two swords collided, and the resulting shock flung me so hard into the side of my car that my entire body went numb. The air was slammed from my lungs, and the back of my head collided with the side of my car. Hard.

I slid into the waiting black arms of unconsciousness.

But only for a minute.

When I opened my eyes, Silverlight and the demon’s black-lighted sword were still struggling, locked in their brutal, vicious fight for dominance.

The sound of their screams was worse than my physical pain, and I couldn’t move because I couldn’t think.

Then Angus, Shane, Clayton, and Leo were in front of me, facing off against the demon, the swords, and the overwhelming crush of power.

I struggled to my feet and lurched toward my men, terrified for Silverlight. There’d never been a challenge for her—not really. But this new sword…

It was a challenge.

Neither one of them could stray long from their masters, and finally, dark went to the demon and light flew back to me.

When Silverlight attached, I felt a difference in her. She was just a little weaker. Her light was dimmer.

“All right, Trin?” Angus yelled, not taking his stare from the demon. “All right?”

The demon answered for me. “She’s fine. For now. But I’m afraid she’ll have to die soon, and Silverlight with her.”

He began to grow. As we watched, he grew. Taller, bigger, more awful.

Leo stepped out of the line and walked toward the demon.

“Leo,” Angus cautioned.

Leo ignored him. He cracked his neck and loosened his shoulders. “Take me on,” he told the demon.

“I’ll take you all on,” the demon promised. “But first….” He waved the black sword gently. “My sword will have her reward. And her reward is you.” He pointed the blackness at Clayton. “You know my sword, don’t you, boy? You feel her.”

I looked at Clayton. His face was pale, his eyes terrible. And I realized finally what he already knew. The sword, forged in hell by the demons, was Miriam.

“Blacklight,” the demon said, almost tenderly. “Her name is Blacklight, and she wants her fucking golem.”