Authors: Jocelynn Drake
“The bar? What are you talking about? Late for what? Who are you?”
“Let him go, Mira,” Danaus’s calm voice interjected before the man could speak.
Turning my head to the right, I saw Danaus kneeling on the bed, knife in hand. I hadn’t even heard him move.
“He was sneaking into the room,” I said. My grip had not changed. A little tighter and I would crush his windpipe.
“He’s from Themis.”
While not the most reassuring information, it was enough to buy him some time. Releasing the man’s throat, I stepped away, flipping on the overhead light as I walked to the opposite side of the room.
“Mira, this is Eduardo, one of the few Themis contacts in South America and the only one located in Peru,” Danaus explained.
When I reached the far corner of the room, I turned on my heel to face the man. I knew I didn’t look my best, but I hadn’t expected the violence of his reaction. Eduardo attempted to back up, but he was already against the wall so all he achieved was hitting the back of his head. His dark brown eyes widened and he quickly crossed himself with a shaking hand. A string of words escaped him, but they were spoken in neither English nor Spanish. I could only guess it was Quechua or one of the Highland dialects, but couldn’t be sure. All I knew was that those hushed words teased at memories in my brain of nights spent on Machu Picchu, sounding too similar to the dialect used by the Incans centuries ago. They had watched as I was tortured by the naturi, their hushed conversations swirling around me.
“Stop it!” I screamed, pressing the heels of my palms against my ears, wishing I could just as easily blot out the memories. “Shut up!” I closed my eyes and stepped backward until my back touched the wall. A second later my eyes popped open at the sound of a muffled footstep. Danaus was standing before me, a concerned look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded when I dropped my hands from my ears.
“Why is he here?” I asked, ignoring his question. He didn’t need to know I was terrified of old ghosts.
“He was to wake me before sunset,” Danaus replied. A frown still hovered over his lips, and I could see the worry in his eyes. I knew his thoughts without delving into his mind. He was wondering if I was finally going insane. And maybe I was. Being able to count the final minutes to your demise had to drive any creature a little mad. In just a matter of nights I would once again be standing on the mountain retreat of the Incans, the naturi on one side and the nightwalkers lined up on the other side, with me standing in the middle. The one hope of the nightwalkers to put an end to this war. My only complaint was that it was likely to kill me in the process.
“Send him away,” I whispered, letting my eyes fall shut. No words were spoken. The only sounds were the quick shuffle of feet, the rattle of the doorknob, and finally the slam of the door. Opening my eyes, I pushed away from the wall. Danaus stepped away from me, allowing me to walk over and slump in the only chair in the room.
Sitting in the sagging cushion chair with the faded green fabric, I let my eyes slowly take in the tiny room as he sat on the edge of the bed. Next to the closet was a rickety bureau that I had a feeling was made of pressboard instead of the oak it was supposed to resemble. A matching nightstand squatted next to the bed that dominated the room with its loud striped spread. There was one other door in the room, which I presumed led to the bathroom. The room was neat and clean, but it had a worn and weary feel to it, as if it had seen too many occupants in its long history. The one appeal it seemed to possess was the fact that there were no windows.
“You look like hell,” Danaus announced, shattering the silence. My eyes jerked back to his face to find him frowning at me.
“You sleep in a trunk shoved in a closet and see how you come out looking,” I snapped, not caring how bitchy I sounded. My gaze fell down to my T-shirt and leather pants, and I absently tried to smooth the wrinkles, but it was a futile gesture. I had a feeling they were now permanent.
“That’s not what I meant,” he replied calmly, unruffled by my tone. I could well imagine how I looked. I needed to feed again. I should have fed before we boarded the plane in Savannah, but there was a problem with getting my jet off the ground. I’d been forced to make a series of unplanned phone calls to get everything in line again so we could quickly leave, which left no time for feeding. It had been too long since I last fed. It also didn’t help that I had been injured on Blackbeard Island, leaving me feeling drained and edgy, in addition to the magic training I’d endured the previous night.
Fear also had its talons deeply embedded in my flesh. If I were still alive, I would have been hyperventilating while my heart raced within my chest. As it was, I fought the urge to rub my palms on my knees, but I no longer sweated. I knew what Danaus saw. I was ghostly pale and my lavender eyes were wide with a near permanent glow. And if he looked close enough, he’d see the slight tremble in my fingers.
“I need to feed,” I admitted, trying to shrug off the feeling that was like a conflagration building in my veins and blotting out rational thought. With a somewhat extravagant sigh, I put my left elbow on the arm of the chair and rested my head in my hand. “Where are we?”
“Cuzco.”
“What?” Bolting upright, I lurched to the edge of my chair. The sudden movement caused Danaus to jump to his feet, his right hand instinctively reaching for a weapon. I flinched at the defensive move and forced myself to slowly sit back. Either my earlier outburst or my appearance had the hunter on edge despite our continued truce. Or worse, he could feel my starvation. He had admitted as much when we were in Crete together, commenting on how the hunger burned through his mind as well when we were together. We were both dancing on the edge of the knife now, working together simply because we were desperate, but trust was thin on the ground.
“We are supposed to be at the lodge at the foot of the Machu Picchu ruins,” I continued in an even voice when he sat on the edge of the bed again. “Or at the very least in Aguas Calientes. We should be closer to the mountain.”
“We’re lucky we’re in Cuzco,” he said, his shoulders slumping wearily. “The plane was redirected to Lima at the last minute due to storms in Cuzco. After a three-hour delay, we left for Cuzco. The landing was rough due to high winds. It took another hour to get out of the airport. By then it was late afternoon. All the trains into the Sacred Valley were on their way back to Cuzco.”
“And nothing else was headed toward Machu Picchu?”
“This isn’t America,” he reminded me grimly. “There are only two trains to Aguas Calientes, and both leave before seven A.M.”
“What about renting a car and driving?”
“I checked. The road goes only as far as Ollantaytambo. From there you have to take the train the last two hours to Aguas Calientes.”
“How can you run a country like this?” I shouted, pushing out of my chair. I shoved both of my hands through my tangled hair as I paced the room. The heels of my boots tromped across the wood floor, sending the noise banging against the thin walls, so I was now sure that our neighbors in the next room could hear my growing anxiety.
“Mira, you’ve got the Andes on one side and the Amazon rain forest on the other. We’re lucky we’re here,” Danaus patiently stated.
I dropped my hands back to my sides. “You’re right.” We had another problem brewing that needed to be taken care of anyway. “Where are Shelly and Cynnia?”
“In the next room,” he said with a jerk of his head.
“Any problems?” I asked as I headed for the door, Danaus following close behind me.
“None. Both were perfectly behaved. In fact…” His voice faded before he could finish the thought.
I stopped in the hallway beside him, my body blocking him from heading to the room that held our two companions. “What?”
Danaus frowned and looked away, his gaze traveling the length of the hallway before finally settling on a point just over my shoulder. “I had no choice. At one point I had to take off her shackles in an effort to get her through security. My bigger concern was making sure that they didn’t search your trunk. Shelly couldn’t shield their minds from both the iron shackles and the trunk.”
“So you freed her?” I gasped, struggling to keep my voice down in the public area. I wanted to shake him. Had he lost his mind? I could understand the circumstances that he found himself in, but still, he set free our prisoner! I fought the urge to shove my fingers through my hair and stomp down the hall. Instead I settled for just curling my hands into fists at my sides and gritting my teeth.
“I had no choice. She was well-behaved the entire time. She helped cloak us. We got through security faster with her help.”
“And I’m sure that she also alerted her own kind to her presence in Cuzco,” I snapped irritably.
“Possibly,” Danaus admitted with a shrug as he pulled another hotel room key out of his pocket. “But I thought that’s what we wanted. A confrontation with Rowe before the sacrifice? If she’s alerted them that she’s in the country, then they should come running for her.”
“And have they?”
“The naturi are close. In the city, but not one has come close to the hotel from what I have been able to tell.”
“You were also asleep.”
“Because I don’t think she told them she’s here.”
“Why?”
He knocked once on the thin hotel room door before inserting the key. As he turned the knob, he looked over his shoulder at me, a dark look filling his deep blue eyes. “Because she looks worse than you.”
Surprised by his comment, I wordlessly followed the hunter into the small hotel room that looked identical to ours with the exception of a small window in the wall opposite the door. Shelly sat on the bed with her back against the headboard, a fingernail file slowly sculpting each nail on her left hand. Cynnia sat on the ground in the corner, as far as she could get from both the door and the window. Her arms were wrapped around her bent knees, and her shoulders were painfully stiff. The iron shackles once again graced her slender wrists. There was the slightest jingling of metal in the air, as if her hands were trembling.
“You’re still here,” I said with a note of surprise filling my voice.
“Where else would I be?” Her soft voice was little more than a whisper of wind. Her normally pale, pearlescent skin was sallow now, almost gray, and her bright green eyes were flat as they jerked from one end of the room to the other.
“From what I hear, you could have run off to meet up with your own kind. They’re crawling all over the place like a bunch of cockroaches. You could have rejoined your herd.”
“For what purpose? Fall in with another group that wants me dead? What if Rowe believes what they are saying about me? He’ll kill me on the spot. Or worse…” She paused, pushing one shaking hand through her stringy brown hair. “…he could hand me over to Aurora when she makes it through the door.”
“First off, Aurora is not getting through the door. That door is staying closed!” I said, walking to stand in front of her. When I was less than a foot away, I knelt down and leaned forward on the knuckles of my left hand, causing her to press farther into the corner. “And second, why would you want to stay with a group that plans to kill you as well?”
“Because at least you still need me,” she said, lifting her chin slightly.
I backed off a bit, but remained kneeling in front of her, a frown toying with the corners of my mouth.
“Not at the risk of my own life,” I said. “I’ve no reason to protect you at the risk of my own life, and so far, you’ve given me little reason to keep you alive.”
“I protected you while you slept!” she cried, leaning forward. “The sun was high and those men would have demanded to check the trunk Danaus was carrying if I had not cloaked you.”
“Why do it?”
“You mean other than the fact that Danaus would have cut my heart out the moment I revealed your location?” she said, her mouth twisting into an ugly frown. “I need you. I need your protection from the rest of my kind. Particularly Rowe. He’s my sister’s mate. If she’s trying to kill me, I expect that he would happily follow her orders.”
My grin spread slowly across my face, stretching to reveal my perfect white fangs. “Then I’m going to need more from you than a simple cloaking spell.”
Cynnia sighed heavily and lowered her head so her forehead touched her knees. Her voice was muffled when she spoke, but I could easily make out what she said. “There are dozens of naturi here. More than a hundred. They’re in the city and out in the mountains. They are everywhere.”
“And you felt that when Danaus took off the manacles?”
“I can feel them with the manacles on. I sensed it the moment my feet touched the ground.” She raised her head and met my gaze, revealing glassy green eyes. She was looking at me, but I had a feeling that she didn’t actually see me. “The earth is saturated with power here. I can feel it everywhere. In the earth, in the air, in the animals that lurk in all the shadows and in the surrounding forests. Rowe has more than enough power to open the door between the two worlds. He has the power to completely tear down the walls and destroy the cage that held us. The mountain called Machu Picchu may be the pinnacle, but the entire valley area is overflowing with energy. The nightwalkers haven’t a chance if you expect to take on the naturi directly here.”
I sat back on my heels for a moment, staring at my captive. She didn’t look triumphant like I would expect when someone was prophesying the complete annihilation of my kind when we attempted to take on the naturi. Instead she looked sad, almost broken, as she sat on the floor, her shoulder slumped and her eyes nearly closed as tears shimmered there in the faint light.
“Danaus, do you still have those tree pictures that you showed me?” I asked, not looking up from Cynnia. She seemed willing to talk, and it honestly felt like she was telling me the truth.
“What?”
I twisted around to look at the hunter, who was staring down at me with a confused look on his face, his fists resting on his hips. He looked as if he was prepared to attack, but at the moment I wasn’t sure who he intended to protect—me or Cynnia.