Dayhunter (3 page)

At Forsyth Park, I would pause at the enormous fountain bathed in yellow lights. Seated on the edge, I’d close my eyes and listen to the steady hum of traffic as it swirled around me. The leaves would rattle and the Spanish moss sway in the breeze, whispering to me old tales of love and death and loneliness. From there I could feel the pulse of the people in my city.

But trudging along the streets of London, covered in dried naturi blood, I couldn’t hear my city or the soft murmur of laughter from her people. For the first time in a very long time, I was homesick. I missed my city’s streets, dotted with old oak trees and tidy little parks. I missed her fountains and the river that caressed her banks. I would have liked to see her one last time; to stroll along the historic district and gaze up at row after row of vintage homes restored to their pre–Civil War beauty. To enjoy just one last dance at the Docks, where the music pounded in loud, angry beats and the air was thick with the scent of sweat and blood.

Just days ago I had been queen of my little mountain, or as we preferred to say: Keeper of my domain. Then Danaus waltzed in and destroyed my world. The vampire hunter brought news that the naturi were threatening to escape their bindings and enter our world for the first time in centuries. While Danaus obviously held no love for nightwalkers, he at least understood that the naturi were worse.

Guardians of the earth for centuries, the naturi had finally decided that the only way to truly protect the earth was to destroy all of mankind. So a war was waged over countless years, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of naturi, humans, and nightwalkers. We finally succeeded in locking most of the naturi in another world, separate from earth but forever linked. But it was temporary. With naturi on both sides of the seal working to open the doorway, we knew it would be a constant struggle to keep them contained. A triad of nightwalkers kept the seal protected, but all went strangely quiet for roughly five centuries, and despite our long memories, we forgot to pass along information to the fledglings we created.

The end result was a series of deaths that should have never occurred. After nights of struggling to reform the nightwalker triad that sealed the naturi host away, I not only failed to protect Thorne, who was to join the triad, but also lost my precious bodyguard. Michael, my guardian angel with golden locks. Adding to my worries, I discovered that I was to be the weapon wielded by the triad, which now included a vampire hunter.

With a sigh, I looked up and found myself standing in front of the Savoy. It was time to return to the task of saving the world. I was tempted to say the hell with it all, but I would be losing my beloved city as well. And if I didn’t protect it, who would?

Smiling grimly, I slipped inside the hotel and rode the elevator up to my room, where Tristan and Danaus were patiently waiting for me. Well, one more patiently than the other.

When I opened the door, Tristan was lounging on the sofa, hands behind his head, ankles crossed. His cheeks were flushed and he radiated blissful satisfaction. He had fed again after I left him and was obviously feeling quite pleased. It also probably helped that he’d showered and was clean of all the blood that once covered him. He was still wearing his bloodstained clothes, but I knew he couldn’t care less. There was something about having a full stomach that made a nightwalker much more tolerant and amiable. It also didn’t hurt that Sadira, our controlling maker, was already in Venice, giving him an extended break from her.

The vampire hunter, on the other hand, was standing at the window, arms folded across his chest. He was still in his torn, bloodstained clothes, but like Tristan, the blood had been washed from his skin. His dirty hair was pulled back from his face, revealing high, strong cheekbones and vibrant eyes of deep cerulean blue. His chin and jaw were covered in a shadow of dark stubble, giving him an even grimmer appearance than usual. I imagine he wasn’t used to patiently waiting around for anyone, much less a nightwalker.

Shaking my head at him, I wordlessly darted through the suite to the bathroom. I quickly stripped out of my clothes and turned on the hot water. I had just stepped under the spray when I heard the bathroom door open.

“We have to leave,” Danaus said irritably.

“I’m not traveling like this,” I shouted over the noise of the falling water. “Five minutes.”

Danaus grunted, leaving me to assume that he accepted my decision and was going to wait “patiently” in the other room. The hunter was a puzzle I was positively itching to work on, particularly with his informative, monosyllabic replies guiding me. Yet, for all his irritation and threats, I was becoming accustomed to his presence.

“Wait!” I called out when I heard him turn the door handle to leave. With my left hand, I grabbed a handful of the mauve shower curtain and pulled it back just enough to poke my head out. I cracked one eye as water ran down my face. Danaus stood half turned toward me, with the bathroom door partially open so he could beat a quick retreat if he needed to.

“What do you know about the Daylight Coalition?” I asked, running my right hand over my face to get some of the water out of my eyes.

Danaus released the door handle and gave the door a little push shut. Folding his arms across his broad chest, he leaned his hip against the white marble sink. “Just humans hunting vampires. Sounds like a good cause to me.” His hard face was expressionless but his sharp eyes were intent upon my face.

Throwing one last scowl at him, I jerked the shower curtain closed and moved back under the water. As I grabbed the washcloth to resume scrubbing, Danaus laughed. Actually, the hunter didn’t make a sound, but I could feel him laughing on the inside. He was teasing me, trying to get under my skin.

Earlier in the evening he had touched my hand and sent his powers through me. Our connection was still strong when we were in close proximity. We had killed the naturi and survived, but we were still working out all of the repercussions. I couldn’t quite make out his thoughts, but his emotions flowed easily to me. And I had a feeling he could just as easily pick out my emotions.

“Bastard,” I grumbled, scrubbing my right forearm. I did not doubt that he heard me over the water. I didn’t know what Danaus was, but he wasn’t human. At least, not all of him. He felt human, but his hearing appeared to be as keen as any nightwalker’s. He had the speed and agility of a lycanthrope, but not their strength. He couldn’t cast spells like a warlock, but had a dark ability that allowed him to boil a creature’s blood within its skin. At the very least, this combination had taught me to be wary of him.

“They’re fanatics,” Danaus said after a moment. His voice sounded tired, worn down to a smooth murmur. “They’ve killed as many humans as they have actual vampires. Why?”

“Tristan and I encountered a trio tonight,” I said. I soaped up the washcloth again and ran it over my stomach, relieved to find the hideous gash I received that night was completely healed. “No, that’s wrong. We encountered a member of the Coalition, a lycan, and a witch.”

“Traveling together?”

“Yes. The man had been sent to fetch the witch and lycan.”

“Did you kill them?”

“Danaus!” I shouted, my fist tightening around the wet washcloth.

“Did you?”

Throwing down the washcloth, I turned and pulled back the shower curtain again so I could look at him. “Does it matter that they attacked us first and they were trying to kill us?” I snapped.

“No.” While his face and voice were calm when he replied, I felt the flutter of something else in his chest. A flash of anger and frustration. Maybe a bit of fear. But he had his emotions back under tight wrap before I could clearly identify any of the swirling maelstroms within his mind.

“The human is still alive,” I said between clenched teeth, jerking the curtain back into place, the metal rings holding up the divider letting out a little squeal. “I broke the man’s hand and knocked him out. The witch disappeared after trying to flambé Tristan and me.”

“And the werewolf?”

“The lycan is dead,” I bit out. Werewolves can heal from a lot of things, but a bullet in the head while you’re low on blood isn’t something you come back from. “He broke our law. If I hadn’t, he might have told the Coalition about us all.” I said the words and believed the rationale, but something knotted in my stomach for a second time. It was my complete lack of remorse. The fact that I hadn’t even hesitated in my decision to kill him. Knox, my assistant in Savannah, once called me a mindless killing machine. The description had been kind.

I stood under the hot water, trying to wash away the memory of the encounter and Danaus’s words. Our occasional teasing and joking meant nothing to him. My respect for his skill and his sense of honor were worthless. In the end he wanted all of my kind dead. He wanted me dead because he saw me only as a killer

“Damn it, you’re missing the point,” I said into the water.

“No, I’m not.” His words were softer than they had been. “A witch and a lycan were traveling with a member of the Daylight Coalition. I’ll call Ryan and see if he knows anything. Do you know the name of the witch?”

“Caroline Buckberry,” I sighed. “That might be an alias, but I’d wager she’s a local. Or at least, her mentor is.”

“Why?”

“I think she used a charm to disappear, and judging by the amount of power I felt in the air, I’d guess she didn’t travel far. She’s a novice.”

“I’ll check with Themis. Ryan might know something.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, not caring if he heard me over the water.

“I understand why you did it, Mira,” he said. I hadn’t heard him move, but he sounded closer, as if he were just on the other side of the shower curtain. “You did it to protect us all. I understand it, but I don’t have to like it.”

I listened to the sound of the door opening and closing, a frown pulling at my lips. Bracing both of my hands against the wall in front of me, I closed my eyes and put my face into the water, wishing it could drown out my thoughts.

But I couldn’t. It was the “us” that caught my attention. It was the first time I had ever heard Danaus include himself with the other races, admitting for a brief moment that we were linked in some strange way. The knot in my stomach eased.

With a sigh, I returned to the task of washing off a layer of dried blood from the earlier battle at Themis and Stonehenge.

In the grand scheme of things, the Daylight Coalition was a minor annoyance. For now, I would leave it to Ryan and his people at Themis to investigate—that was what they did. Themis was a bunch of gray-haired librarians who studied all the races that were different from humans and wrote down their findings in thick, leather-bound volumes.

Of course, Themis also had its group of hunters; trained assassins dispatched for the sole purpose of killing my kind and anyone else who stepped out of line. Ryan had smiled at me and said that it was all in the interest of maintaining the secret, protecting mankind from the knowledge that vampires and werewolves were real. But I trusted the warlock about as far as I could throw him. Probably less.

With a frustrated groan, I turned off the water and quickly dried off. Rubbing my hair to dry as much of the water as possible, I stepped out of the bathroom and into the master bedroom, where I pulled open my bag. Clean clothes. Sometimes it’s the little things in this life that can pick up a person’s mood. I had worn my last outfit through my meeting with James Parker at the Themis town house, Thorne’s death, my fight with Jabari, my fight with the naturi, and the naturi encounter at Stonehenge. I tossed the pants and shirt into the trash can, resisting the urge to set them on fire. Burning the clothes wouldn’t purge the memory of the past two nights.

Quickly, I pulled on semiclean clothes and shouldered my bag. Dawn was only a few hours away and we had to be in Venice before the sun rose. The Coven was demanding we make an appearance. And the ruling nightwalker body would not be denied anything it wanted.

THREE

I
hesitated at the bottom of the stairs leading up to my little jet. Instead of winging me back across the ocean toward home, it was carrying me into the dark heart of the nightwalker empire, the Coven. Jabari would claim it was for my own protection; I had no doubt that the Elders had some other dark scheme in mind. Of course, I had no say in the matter. Running would only make it worse. And I still had to figure out a way to protect Danaus and Tristan.

With a grimace, I climbed on and came face-to-face with the young nightwalker. Tristan stood in the middle of the plane, his hands resting on his slender hips as he looked around the pristine white interior. His eyes settled on me after a moment, with one brow arched in question.

“White?” he inquired, amusement cavorting through his voice. I swept past him, ignoring his comment. What could I say? I thought the black clothes were enough of a stereotype.

“Contact Sadira,” I snapped, noticing the way his smile slipped at the mention of our maker. Neither of us was in any great hurry to see her again. I had escaped her “tender care” nearly five centuries ago only to find myself faced with the controlling vampire once again. Tristan had recently escaped, but was recaptured by me as I’d been unwittingly manipulated by her.

“Tell her to have a taxi waiting when we arrive,” I ordered as I dropped my bag on the floor. “We’re going to be cutting it that close.” Lounging on one of the long benches that lined the interior of the plane, I tried to keep up the appearance of being completely unconcerned with the fact that we were flying to Venice, with sunrise only four hours away.

“Anything else, Mistress?” he asked with an elegant bow. I frowned at the nightwalker. Get him away from Sadira and he turns into a sarcastic ass, I thought. Just what I needed. I already had my hands full with Danaus, the Coven, and the naturi; I didn’t need to worry about a young nightwalker now that he was away from his master. But I also had a sickening feeling in my stomach that he was confident I would find a way to free him from Sadira’s grasp. Desperation made me promise to help him. At the time, I’d been sure that one of us wouldn’t survive the encounter. I was wrong, and now I was stuck.