Into the Light (24 page)

Gently, because the book was very old and felt very fragile, Tanner opened it and flipped to the chapter that covered shifters. As he began to read, he sat down in the chair positioned behind the one desk in the room. He frowned when his knee bumped the desk drawer, which wasn’t quite closed all the way. When he pushed at the drawer, it still would not close, so he pulled it open to see if he could determine what was in the way.

A leather-bound ledger was the culprit. He pulled it out of the drawer, intending to simply reposition it so that the drawer closed properly, but he fumbled both books and, deciding
A History of Magical Beings
was probably more important, he let the ledger fall to the floor and caught the older book instead.

The ledger fell open, and as Tanner reached down to retrieve it, he discovered it was a financial ledger. Upon further inspection, he realized it was, most likely, the king’s financial ledger. The one the king had been writing in the last time Tanner had been summoned to this room.

According to the ledger, the coterie was broke.

No wonder the king was so nervous when he thought I would ask for payment in exchange for having saved Olivia’s life.

Dismissing the historical book, Tanner placed the ledger on the desk and began studying it with a more critical eye. This did nothing to dissuade him from the very real fact that the king’s coffers were nearly depleted. Not only that, but, according to this ledger, there had been nothing but withdrawals, for years and years and years. No deposits. Where were the deposits? And who were all of the withdrawals going to? Each one was only noted with initials, but Tanner assumed they were to the same person or same company because they all occurred at steady, regular intervals.

But there were no deposits. He couldn’t get past that. How had the king not realized that he was going bankrupt? What the hell was he going to do? Was it just the king, or did this affect the entire coterie? Tanner had a sinking suspicion he knew the answer to that question. Considering there wasn’t a single deposit, that meant his subjects did not financially support the king. If he asked for support now, would they give it to him?

What would they do? According to everything he’d learned, the lightbearers kept to themselves. They did not associate with the human communities that surrounded the coterie. In fact, most lightbearers living within the coterie had never left their sanctuary. The old tales and legends were very real here, just as real as they were within Tanner’s father’s pack.

If the king’s financial state reflected the state of the entire coterie, the lightbearers would most likely be forced to leave the safety of their protected environment to seek employment or other means of raising funds.

Tanner thought about Josh Tigre’s pack. Maybe he could call on Josh, ask for his assistance in protecting the lightbearers as they ventured out on their own. The irony that a pack of shifters would protect them from another pack of shifters was not lost on Tanner. But he’d been absolutely convinced that Josh held none of the beliefs Tanner’s father did.

Even if Josh did agree to help protect the lightbearers, Tanner was not confident it would be enough. There would still be a threat. There would always be a threat. If not the shifters, then the fae. The fae did not visit this world often, but when they did, they would be well aware of any lightbearer who happened to be wandering about outside the coterie.

Even humans were a threat, to some extent. Humans lived blissfully unaware of the magical community. If they were to suspect that lightbearers, shifters, and the like existed, well, with social media and immediate access to news feeds, Tanner could only imagine how quickly packs and the coterie would be overcome with reporters and the paparazzi, not to mention the scientists and analysts and who knew what else.

Maybe the humans were the worst of the threats. Hell, just about the only type of being that wasn’t a threat were vampires, and that was only because a lightbearer’s blood was poison to a vampire. Tanner assumed that was a result of a lightbearer’s magic coming directly from the sun, which was also poisonous to vampires.

According to what he was looking at, the lightbearers within this community were going to have no choice but to step outside their coterie, to intermingle with the humans. To get jobs to support themselves, and their king, if they so chose to continue in that vein.

How long would that last
? Once the lightbearers had a taste of democracy, of the American way, how long would they continue to support their king, to look to him as their leader? Sander might be a decent enough guy, but thus far, Tanner wasn’t overly impressed with his leadership skills. And his financial management skills were clearly nonexistent.

Not to mention his sexist decisions. Refusing to acknowledge his one and only daughter as the heir to his kingdom simply because she was female. Olivia was one of the smartest, bravest women Tanner had ever met. In his opinion, she would be a far better ruler than her father could ever be.

Sander’s refusal to train any of the women within the coterie to defend themselves, just on the basis that they were female, was another point of contention with Tanner. Even the men weren’t trained very well, in his opinion. They might be able to summon swords and arrows with magic, but they lacked the skill, the grace, of a contingency of guards who practiced daily, who worked well together, who were prepared for any threat.

The king of the lightbearers needed a strong CFO and an even stronger head of security. Unfortunately, Tanner suspected it might be too late.

The sound of footsteps pulled Tanner from his musings, just a moment before the king walked through the door and into the library, too fast for Tanner to slip the ledger back into the desk drawer, if he even intended to do so in the first place. When Sander spotted him, Tanner was seated at the desk with the ledger open in front of him. His palms were flat on the desk. He figured his anger was likely spelled out on his face. He wasn’t trying to hide it.

“What are you doing sitting at my desk?” Sander demanded.

Tanner continued to sit there, waiting for Sander to notice the ledger lying on the desk. It did not take long.

“How dare you look at that,” Sander blustered as he stormed into the room and then hesitated, his hand hovering over the desk, as if he wanted to snatch away the ledger but was afraid to do so.

“Go ahead,” Tanner encouraged. “Take it.”

Sander looked as if he was afraid Tanner might bite his hand if he did. Tanner thought that it wasn’t such a bad idea.

“I’ve already looked through the entire thing. You’re broke.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Tanner ignored that comment.

“Is the entire coterie broke, or just you?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Why are there no deposits?” Tanner waved at the leather-bound book, lying open on the desk in front of him.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” the king repeated.

“Yes I do. I can read. I can do basic math. Withdrawal after withdrawal after withdrawal for – what?” He flipped to the first page, peered at it for a moment. “More than forty years, with no deposits? You don’t have to be very smart to realize that just doesn’t add up. I can’t believe you lasted this long. Where is all the money going? And why aren’t there any deposits?”

Sander’s mouth thinned until his lips all but disappeared, and then he bit off each word as he spoke. “The money supports my kingdom.”

Tanner looked down at the ledger again. “You subsidize every household in the coterie?” When Sander blanched, he added, “Every single one? Why?”

He didn’t really expect an answer. So he was surprised when Sander stiffly said, “To make my subjects love me.”

Tanner stared at him. Sander turned his head and looked at the window.

“My father ruled before me. He was a…a tyrant, or very near to it. Many in the coterie were unhappy. In fact, rumors persisted for years after his death that it was not of natural causes. I needed to prove to my subjects that I was not like him.”

“So you bought their loyalty.”

Tanner took his non-reply as affirmation.

“How? Why would the coterie even need currency, if you are completely self-sufficient? Shouldn’t you use some sort of barter system?”

Sander looked supremely uncomfortable. He paced to a small, delicate table situated in front of one of the windows and bent over. When he straightened, he held a tiny wine glass in his hand. The glass was full of burgundy liquid. After one swift glance at Tanner, he downed the contents.

“The currency does not go directly to my subjects,” Sander admitted after a few moments of silence. “It pays for the goods I provide them.”

“So you’re buying stuff from outside the coterie and giving it to the residents?” Tanner guessed.

“Yes.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Food. Clothing. Furniture. Everything.”

“
Everything?
”

Sander nodded and then bent over and poured himself another glass of what Tanner presumed was wine.

“Why? Why not insist everyone grow their own crops, make their own clothing and furniture? You can’t tell me lightbearers have no discernable skills.”

“Why make them do for themselves, when I could provide nearly everything they needed?”

“Because you’re broke,” Tanner practically yelled at the man while waving at the proof lying on the desk. “Where does everything come from? The food, the supplies?”

Sander’s look turned dodgy. Tanner narrowed his eyes and steadily watched the fidgeting king, silently waiting for an answer.

“The land of the fae, mostly. There is a portal” – He hesitated – “Down by the water. In a little-used area. Few know of it.”

“Mostly?”

Tanner felt as though he was a father, scolding a child and trying to get that child to admit that he’d stolen cookies from the cookie jar.

“And the humans,” the king finally confessed.

“So you’re a hypocrite, besides being a lousy financial officer.”

Sander opened and closed his mouth several times and then snapped it shut and simply glared at Tanner.

“You’ve made your subjects completely and wholly dependent on you. And you lied to them, telling them they were not allowed outside of the coterie, when you or some trusty servant obviously left the coterie on a regular basis. Your subjects aren’t going to love you very much when they learn that after forty years, they not only have to learn to fend for themselves, but they’re going to have to do it out outside the coterie.” He knew the words were cruel, but he did not take them back.

Sander poured a third glass of wine.

“Does your family know?”

“No one knows,” Sander said as he scowled at Tanner. His shoulders slumped. A guilty look crawled across his face, and then he downed the contents of his wine glass. He seemed unsteady on his feet, after only three small glasses of wine.

“What kind of wine is that?” Tanner asked suspiciously.

“Faery wine. I maintain contact with the queen of the fae.”

“Obviously,” Tanner drawled. That explained the king’s apparent near-drunkeness. Faery wine, as Tanner understood it, was extremely potent. Something about faeries and their high tolerance for spirits.

“I could have made it last,” Sander abruptly insisted. “But my mate likes to plan parties.”

Tanner did not point out the obvious, that currency and goods were finite unless replenished regularly. Instead, he said, “Olivia says it’s therapy for her.”

Sander became instantly angry. “Olivia should not be sharing such personal information with the likes of you,” he said hotly.

“Olivia is sleeping with the likes of me, and I figure you can’t get much more personal than that,” Tanner pointed out.

He hadn’t meant to be so abrupt with his announcement, but his recently acquired knowledge made him feel bolder around the king. The lightbearer was barely hanging on by the tips of his fingernails and could fall from the ledge at any moment. If something wasn’t done, there wouldn’t even be a kingdom for Olivia’s firstborn son to inherit.

Sander sputtered and turned red in the face.

“Don’t tell me you hadn’t figured that out by now,” Tanner commented.

Sander drained his fourth glass of wine. “No,” he admitted. “I hadn’t.”

“Oh. Well, she is,” Tanner said lamely, feeling slightly abashed.

Sander squeezed the stem of his wineglass so tightly, Tanner wondered that it didn’t break.

“I expected better of my daughter,” he said coldly.

Tanner didn’t say anything, just watched him steadily.

“She is a princess. The only child of the king of the lightbearers.”

“As I understand it, you won’t declare her heir because she’s female.”

“Don’t tell me it isn’t the same with your kind.”

“Haven’t you read your own books?” Tanner asked, waving at the ancient volume still lying on the desk. “With my kind, that right is based on blood link to the pack master, regardless of their sex. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be the firstborn.”

Sander pursed his lips. “I do not know what your intentions are toward my daughter, but this cannot—”

“I intend to mate with her,” Tanner said, cutting him off.

Sander went red in the face again and began sputtering incoherently. Tanner decided then and there that he and the king would never be fast friends. They’d be lucky to tolerate one another over the obligatory family dinner. He wondered if Olivia would insist upon living here in the beach house once they were mated, or if she would be open to getting their own place, so he would not have to deal with the stiff, angry king on a daily basis.

“You need help,” Tanner pushed forward. “You need a business manager, and you need someone to lead your guards, to train them properly. You aren’t going to have a choice. You are going to have to let your lightbearers go out into the human world to fend for themselves. The only way to truly protect them is to ensure your guards are solidly trained.”

“They managed to catch you just after you escaped,” Sander said coolly.

“We managed to escape in the first place,” Tanner pointed out. “And then they managed to put a handful of arrows through their own princess.”