Dayhunter (6 page)

But I doubted I’d be able to wander along her ancient sidewalks this time. When we stepped off the plane, an escort was already waiting to greet us. Tall and lean, the nightwalker stood not far from where our jet had taxied to a private section of Marco Polo Airport. I had seen him on my last few trips to Venice. The vampire was picking pieces of lint from his dark Armani suit, looking supremely bored with the task at hand. I knew better. A toady of the Coven was a tenuous position, one that you were careful not to screw up.

Climbing off the jet, I glanced nervously at the sky. Dawn was less than two hours away and we still had to deal with the formalities of landing in Venice,
the
nightwalker playground. If not for the time constraints, I would have been happy to wait until sunset tomorrow to leave for Venice.

The nightwalker in Armani gracefully strolled over as Danaus came to stand beside me. I had given him the guns and sword. I’d take back the Browning and Glock if forced to hunt the naturi again. For now, I didn’t have a clue about the Coven’s plans, but I knew that Rowe wouldn’t give up on his plan to break the seal just because I had thwarted him once. The naturi was going to try again, and I suspected the Coven would “request” that I be the one to stop him again.

Tristan descended the stairs last, carrying both of our bags with ease. He was lowest on the totem pole so he got to play the part of pack mule. It wasn’t fair, but we were protecting him and that task was more easily done without a bag on your shoulder.

“Benevenuto a Venezia,”
the vampire greeted in flawless Italian, bowing deeply to me. “
Il mio nome è Roberto.”

“Mira,” I said, biting out my name through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to use Italian as well. “Danaus. Tristan.” I completed the rest of the introductions with a quick wave of my hand toward my companions.

Roberto smiled at me, his eyes flickering with amusement. “The Elders are glad that you have arrived safely,” he replied, slipping into heavily accented English.

A snide comment nearly tumbled from my lips, but I bit off the words at the last minute. No reason to start a fight just yet. There would be plenty of opportunities for that later.

“We are losing moonlight. Shall we go?” I stiffly said in quick, sharp Italian. The language came easy for me. Sadira had insisted that I learn it even before I was reborn, and it was all Jabari had spoken while attempting to teach me Arabic. But I didn’t want to speak Italian; each syllable carried with it an echo of grim memories and dark pleasures I had left behind.

“Do you have any other baggage?” Roberto asked, his eyes darting to the jet.

“No. I assumed the Coven would see to my needs,” I said.

“Naturalmente.”
With a wave of his hand, he turned sharply and started walking toward the canals. He had been inquiring about my customized coffin. The five-and-a-half-foot box with interior locks was my sanctuary from the sun. I’d left it in London with instructions to ship it to the States. It had become too impractical to keep moving the coffin around with me, but I hated traveling without it, though it could be done. If necessary, I could sleep in the Lagoon. Nightwalkers didn’t breathe, and the silt and algae made the water murky enough to block the sun. Now, I’m not saying the experience was enjoyable—there are few things more repulsive than waking covered in dirt and algae—but at least you wake up again.

Our little trio followed Roberto to a waiting boat. Once we were seated, the nightwalker deftly maneuvered the sleek speedboat from the dock and across the Lagoon. Yet, something seemed off. Instead of heading toward the southeast side of Murano, Roberto passed the southwest side of the island and soon entered the winding canals of Venice. This didn’t make any sense. Typically, we traveled southeast toward the Lido before heading back north to the remote island that housed the Coven. This way would take longer, as we would be forced to travel at a slower speed while within the narrow confines of the Venice canals. There wouldn’t be much time if we were to appear before the Elders before sunrise.

After a few moments darting down one narrow canal after another, Danaus touched my arm, drawing my eyes to his face. Silently, he held up three fingers and then tilted his head toward the rooftops. We were being watched, which wasn’t surprising. I had felt them as we stepped onto the tarmac at the airport. However, the hunter had miscounted. With a wink and a smile, I chuckled deeply, catching Roberto’s attention.

“What has amused you?” he inquired, glancing over his shoulder at me.

“The hunter is honored by the Coven’s thoughtfulness to send an escort of four nightwalkers,” I replied. Danaus’s expression remained unreadable, but I’m sure those were not the words he would have used.

“He can sense them?” Roberto asked, his eyes briefly shifting to Danaus. His hand swept over his slicked-back, dark brown hair.

“Naturalmente,”
I purred.

Roberto looked over at Danaus one last time, the tip of his tongue nervously flicking across his lips before he turned his attention back to the canal. “The Coven is eager to meet him,” he softly said, his voice barely carrying over the rumble of the boat’s motor and the splash of the waves.

I was sure they were, but I wisely kept my comments to myself. Instead I watched the passing buildings and the shimmer of lamplight reflecting in the waters in the canal. We had briefly cut across the Grand Canal and were now moving down the Guidecca Canal. The nightwalkers watching us kept their distance and did nothing to provoke the passengers of the speedboat. They were there to make sure we didn’t attempt anything stupid, though I’m not sure exactly what the Coven thought we might try.

After about thirty minutes Roberto slowed the boat and carefully docked in a beautiful landing on the Guidecca side of Venice. I frowned, my gaze and powers sweeping the immediate area. This wasn’t where the Coven held court. That was still another ten minutes away on a lonely island in the Lagoon.

“Are we not going before the Coven?” I asked Roberto when he turned off the motor.

“Because of the late hour, the Elders have graciously decided to allow you to rest first. You are expected to appear in court an hour after sunset tomorrow,” he explained.

“Alone?” I stood, my legs braced apart against the rocking of the boat. I doubted it, but it was always good to know exactly where you stood when you went before the Elders.

“All are to come,” Roberto announced, his eyes sweeping over Tristan and Danaus before returning to my face.

I looked over at Tristan, who was still sitting. His expression was blank, but his knuckles were growing white from the death grip he had on my bag. After living with Sadira for more than a century, I was confident that he was as well versed in the romance languages as I was. “Have you appeared in court before?” I demanded, switching back to English.

“No,” Tristan said with a shake of his head, peering up at me with wide eyes. A wave of fear from the young nightwalker rippled through me, skimming along my arms like a cold chill. The court of the Coven was a place of horrors and nightmares, particularly for the weak. It was there that the term “chum” had been coined.

I turned my gaze back to Roberto, who was watching Tristan like a predator sizing up his prey. “Relay a request to the Elders for me,” I said, my words falling gracefully back into Italian. “Tell them I humbly request to be allowed to leave Tristan behind. He knows nothing of the matter we have come to discuss and will only waste valuable time.”

Roberto smiled at my delicate choice of words. I had never been humble about anything I did. “He has come into their domain. He has to show proper respect,” he reminded me, his dark gaze sliding back to my face.

“They’ve already given their approval for the day’s rest. If they refuse, I can still send him back to London after the sun sets. No harm done.”

“I’ll relay your request,” Roberto said stiffly, his lean face twisting with his displeasure.

“Grazie
,” I said, smiling at him wide enough to expose my fangs. It wasn’t a threat; more of a friendly nudge not to cross me. Coven toady or not, I’d ripped apart stronger vampires than him for less, and he knew it. Besides, the noose was already around my neck, so what did I have to lose?

We climbed out of the boat and walked up to the hotel. I paused and watched Roberto pull from the dock and drive out into the Lagoon. He was headed for the Coven. The other nightwalkers remained around the hotel, watching. They’d hold for a little while longer but would have to find a suitable resting spot as the night crumbled around us. As I turned to continue into the luxurious hotel, I found Tristan standing before me, a look of gratitude on his face.

“Why?” he whispered, his voice seeming to catch on something in his throat.

“You wouldn’t survive the night,” I grumbled, stepping around him and striding toward the hotel. The look on his face, a sickening combination of gratitude and awe, was making me uncomfortable. It was the same look I had seen on his face when we first met in London at that punk bar. To Tristan, I was a legend and a beacon of hope—I had “escaped” our maker and gone on to live my own life away from her. And when he saw me for the first time, he assumed that I would help him do the same. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t the type to come rushing to the aid of a weaker nightwalker. In fact, I was frequently an exterminator of fledglings when they endangered our secret.

“Sadira won’t let anything happen to me,” Tristan argued, following on my heels.

“I will try to get Danaus to smuggle you back onto the jet before sunset tonight,” I said, ignoring his comment. “You can be back in London or in the States before they awaken.”

He grabbed my arm, stopping me. “What if they summon me and I’m not in Venice?”

“I’ll tell them I shipped you away without your knowledge.” It was a considerable risk. I had never defied the Coven before, but then I’d never had a reason to try.

“No,” he firmly said with a shake of his head. “I’m staying.” He repositioned our bags on his shoulders, completely at ease with their awkward weight. My brow furrowed as I stared at him. Earlier that evening he had wanted to run, to flee the Coven.

“I thought you wanted to be free of Sadira,” I snapped. Exhaustion and fear ate away at the last of my patience. There wasn’t time for this discussion.

“We both know shipping me to another country or continent won’t free me from Sadira’s grasp.” Tristan stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. He leaned in and our cheeks nearly brushed as we spoke. “Sending me away will only antagonize the Coven and Sadira. And while you may be the great Fire Starter, I don’t think you are strong enough to take them both on and succeed.”

My own words come back to haunt me. And he was right.

I stepped back so I could look him in the eye. “Very well.” He was young, but determined. For now, he would stand by his mistress and endure the gaze of the Coven. If he were lucky, they would be so preoccupied with Danaus and me that he would be overlooked.

With a nod, I led my two companions into the opulent Hotel Cipriani. When I’d scanned the area upon our landing, I sensed Sadira on one of the upper floors waiting for us. Neither Tristan nor I had any desire to see the manipulative old nightmare again, but we were running out of time and I had something to accomplish before the night drew its final breath. As we neared the private suite, Sadira threw open the white double doors, smiling at her young ward.

“At last,” she said, sounding deeply relieved. There was a slight flush to her pale cheeks, revealing that she had fed recently. She was wearing a pale pink shirt and long black skirt. The night’s battle had been erased from her appearance, except for the lines of nervous worry that still clawed at the corners of her eyes. Stepping around the two nightwalkers as they held each other, I rolled my eyes in disgust. I knew Tristan was obediently relaying the night’s events to his mistress through his thoughts. I didn’t care to review what had happened since we parted ways. For now, I turned my attention to our accommodations. I’d deal with Sadira later.

The main sitting area was coldly elegant, decorated in smoky gray and black marble with creamy white walls. The furniture was covered in an interesting black and gray fabric and perfectly coordinated with the large area rug in the center of the room. The area oozed luxury, offering an enticing mix of beauty and comfort. Yet, the windows troubled me. The far wall was comprised of a massive bank of windows looking out at the canal. Frowning, I quickly peeked into both bedrooms to find large windows spanning the far walls. Even the bathroom looked out onto the canal. At night the view was stunning. By day it would be a death trap as the sun slowly crept through the room, searching us out.

“How are we supposed to meet them tomorrow if we burn up during the day?” My voice exploded in the suite as I stalked back out into the living room.

“The curtains are thick in the master bedroom,” Sadira said. “It will be enough to block the sun.” Her seemingly eternal calm was unshaken by my lack of emotional restraint. The night had been too long already, with bitter revelations nagging at me from both my beloved Jabari and my enemy Rowe. There had been no time to sit alone and think over what I’d learned, to formulate my next plan for survival. Always moving forward, toward the next destination, closer to the next creature that wanted to control me or kill me.

I wanted my metal box with its double locks on the interior. I wanted my one sanctuary in this world that was unraveling faster than love after betrayal. Traveling without the box was insane. I hadn’t taken any trips outside of my domain without it in centuries. It had saved me on more than one occasion. Unfortunately, I currently needed to travel light and fast. I had to find other options. Hell, for half a second I actually thought about sleeping in the Lagoon, but quickly pushed the idea aside. The Elders were having a little fun. If they wanted to kill us, they would have done something far more creative and painful. This was just a joke; a death trap draped in exquisite luxury.