Dayhunter (8 page)

“No,” I replied, though the word lay between us like a dead fish.

Lowering his hand, he wrapped his long fingers around my wrist when I sat up. “I wanted to thank you…for what you said yesterday.” His words were hesitant. I understood what it cost him to say them. I remembered what it was like to be young and weak. You never wanted to feel as if you owed anyone anything. It gave them power over you, a little bit of leverage saved up for a special occasion.

“I don’t want your thanks,” I grumbled. Rolling to my feet, I ran my fingers through my hair, pushing the long red locks from my face. I didn’t want his gratitude when we had yet to escape Venice. “Return to your mistress.”

“She said that I am to see to your needs,” he said, lounging across the bed. I turned to look at him, but what I saw only deepened my frown. He lay bare-chested, a smile haunting his handsome features. His lower half was in a pair of leather pants, while his feet remained bare. Tristan was an enticing mix, naughty with just a dash of nice. He extended one hand toward me, his gaze softening. He was hot, but I felt no real temptation. I was standing in Venice and was about to see the Coven, which had a naturi in their midst. There was no escape this time no matter how much I longed for it.

“Get out of here, Tristan,” I sighed. “Tell the others I will be out in a few minutes.”

I didn’t wait for him to rise, but grabbed my bag and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. After a quick shower, I dug through my bag for some clean clothes, only to discover I was running low. I hadn’t thought to pack for more than a few days. I thought I would be handing this matter off to someone else not long after arriving in Egypt, not globe-hopping while I ran from the naturi.

With a grimace, I finally settled on a black halter top. I pulled the black leather pants I had worn the previous day back on, but chose the leather boots with the three-inch heels. They weren’t great for fighting in, but the height would add to my presence. I was hoping to do more bluffing than actual fighting tonight.

I brushed out my damp hair and piled it on the back of my head, holding it in place with a pair of silver clips. By pulling it back, it opened my peripheral vision and still gave me the appearance of sophistication and class. With one last look in the mirror, I stifled a sigh. I looked good, but I didn’t feel the confidence I needed to pull off this farce.

Leaning forward, I gripped the cold black marble sink with both hands. How the hell was I supposed to do this? A naturi was waltzing around the home of the Coven, Jabari could control me like some weapon sent from Hell, and somehow I was slowly building a contingent of creatures dependent upon me to save their collective hides. Not only had I promised a vampire hunter that I would get him out of Venice alive, but it was also becoming clear that both Sadira and Tristan were expecting the same.

I couldn’t beat the Coven. While I might be able to last a little bit, Jabari would pummel me into bloody paste eventually. My odds against Macaire or Elizabeth weren’t any better. How could I have been so careless as to promise to protect these poor creatures when I could barely protect myself?

But the Coven had to be stopped. My fears in London had been confirmed with the appearance of the naturi in the Coven. Too often the naturi knew exactly where to find me. They knew how to track me when only the Coven should have known my ultimate destination. Someone within the Coven was trying to kill me, and that person was using the naturi as the assassin.

A knock at the bathroom door shook me from my dark thoughts. I forced my fingers to release their grip on the sink and I straightened. “Come in.” My voice was firm and steady, though I didn’t feel it.

The door swung open to reveal Danaus standing on the other side, his expression even darker than usual. He was back in his typical black shirt and black pants, but gone were his wrist guards, assortment of knives, and sword strapped to his back. In fact, he was completely unarmed. Of course, he could destroy us all without even lifting a finger, but there’s nothing like the feel of a trusted weapon in your hand.

“Ready?” he inquired.

“Would it make any difference if I said no?”

“No.”

“Then, yes, I’m ready. Can’t wait!” I said brightly, pasting an extremely fake-looking smile on my mouth.

A sharp bark of laughter jumped from Danaus’s throat, surprising us both. I think the tension was getting to us. We were starting to crack. With a shake of my head and a wobbly smile, I stepped around him and started to walk through the bedroom when I felt a sudden sharp shift in his mood. In fact, the jump to violent anger and horror was so extreme that my fingers curled into claws and my lips pulled back, exposing sharp fangs. I twisted around, searching for our would-be attacker, but I found myself still alone with Danaus.

“What?” I demanded, my gaze still scouring the room for the enemy that had retreated to the shadows. The curtains had been pulled back to reveal the glittering expanse of the Lagoon and the glow of San Marco Piazza against the night sky.

“Your back,” he replied, his voice harsh and almost breathless. I straightened, relaxing instantly. I had forgotten he had never seen the scars on my back. I’d worn that shirt for the exact purpose of showing them off, but they hadn’t crossed my mind when I walked in front of the hunter.

Turning back around so he could see them, I remained standing in the center of the room. “I thought Nerian told you,” I said. The name twisted briefly on my lips as an image of the naturi flit through my thoughts. My old tormentor was dead now, but memories of him still had the power to haunt me.

I heard Danaus edge closer, his movements slow and cautious, as if he was afraid I would lunge at him. “He did, but I didn’t think vampires could scar. I thought you healed from everything,” he said, his voice dropping to near a whisper. Danaus had held Nerian captive for a week before I finally destroyed the naturi. It was ample time for the hunter to pull all kinds of interesting information from my enemy. The idea set me ill at ease around Danaus, fearful of the things he knew about me during my weakest moment. I was flaunting the scarring, but the rest of the painful and degrading things I endured over those two weeks were something I wanted no one to know about.

“If we don’t feed soon enough after being injured by a naturi weapon, our bodies cannot heal completely,” I said stiffly, trying to push back the flood of memories. “I wanted to remind the Coven of what they were dealing with.”

His fingertips lightly grazed my back, tracing some of the marks. I flinched at his touch but didn’t move. His anger brushed across my bare skin like a warm breath, and it was almost soothing despite our topic of conversation. “Some of these are symbols,” he said in surprise. “They wrote on your back.”

“I never learned what it said. Nothing good, I’m sure.”

Danaus was silent a moment, his emotions a jumble as the anger started to ebb. He was studying the designs, his thoughts churning as he tried to place the symbols with matching words. “Kick me.”

I twisted around, my mouth falling open in wordless shock. The hunter stared at me, the corners of his mouth twitching. Laughter, for one brief crystalline moment, shimmied through his cobalt eyes. Dear heaven, the dark vampire hunter was developing a sense of humor.

I laughed, letting the sound well up from my toes and soar through my chest. Shaking my head, I wrapped my arms around my stomach as the sound filled the room. Danaus chuckled softly too, the sound bouncing off me like a drunken monk trying to right himself in a swaying room. It was more than a minute later before I was able to finally stand straight and stifle the last of the giggles.

“Why is there a naturi within the Coven building?” Danaus asked, killing the last of our laughter. There was no harsh accusation or censure in his voice. I could almost hear the unspoken question, “What are we going to do?” in his tone.

“The Coven had struck some kind of bargain. I think it’s the reason why the naturi have been able to track us so easily,” I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Maybe. But they haven’t gotten us yet.”

“Rowe grabbed me the last time,” I reminded him, trying to keep the bitterness out of my tone. Rowe had swept me away to Stonehenge to witness the sacrifice to break the seal, and offered me a chance to change sides. I didn’t, and at the time I thought I had made the right choice. Yet, with the appearance of the naturi at the Coven Great Hall, I now had my doubts.

“Each time they attack, we get closer to stopping Rowe,” Danaus countered.

“He always has the element of surprise.”

“He’s lost it.” Danaus stood before me, forcing me to sit up straight so I could look up at him. “We know now that the naturi are after you specifically. We can watch out for them. Even if the naturi have struck a bargain with the Coven, their numbers are going to be limited here. We’re safer here than anywhere else.”

It was on the tip on my tongue to remind him that we were due before the Coven. We weren’t safer. We just faced a different kind of danger.

Danaus knelt before me, wrapping one of his large strong hands around my thin wrist. “I will not let Rowe touch you. He will not kidnap you again. The naturi cannot have you,” he vowed, bringing a shaky smile to my lips. Seated in a dirty London alley, covered in naturi blood and glass, he had made a similar promise to me. I could feel his anger now as he held my arm. He blamed himself for me being grabbed at the Compound. He felt angry and ashamed of his failure to keep his promise to me. But I didn’t blame him. No one could have stopped Rowe at that moment.

With my free hand, I cupped his cheek, rubbing my thumb across his strong cheekbone. His pain and frustration beat at me, weakening the smile I was forcing onto my lips. How had we come to this point? Protecting each other from the threats that crowded us on all sides when we were supposed to be killing each other.

“Danaus, I don’t expect you to keep such a promise. You would have to be close to me at all times. It’s a step in our relationship I’m not ready to take,” I teased, trying to lighten the weight in his chest. To my surprise, he didn’t move. Usually when I teased him, the hunter would growl at me and stomp off. Danaus simply squeezed the wrist he was holding and shook his head slightly, his lips gently grazing the palm of my hand.

“I stand by my promise. The naturi will not have you.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, dropping my hand back into my lap. No one had ever anyone vocally sworn to protect me. Others had physically, but then it had the feeling of a piece of property being protected rather than a living creature.

Danaus pushed back to his feet and took a step back. “We should get going,” he said, extending his hand to help me rise.

“Do you think other races know about the deal?” I asked as I slipped my cool hand into his warm one. The appearance of the witch and the lycan with the Daylight Coalition member seemed to take on a whole new frightening meaning.

“Let’s hope not,” he said, pulling me to my feet. “I can only fight one war at a time.”

And I could already guess at which side he would fall on if the races went to war against the nightwalkers.

SIX

W
hen Danaus and I entered the main living room, we found Roberto lounging against the wall near the doors, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. Dressed in another black suit, he looked like a careless Italian playboy out for an evening of reckless pleasure. The deep red shirt he wore was open at the throat, his dark brown hair perfectly slicked back. Roberto was a few centuries old; closer to my age than Tristan’s, but still far from being an Ancient. My encounters with the Coven flunkies were few and far between. My patience was thin and I had a tendency to burn through them. My orders had always come directly from Jabari, and occasionally from Tabor.

Tristan stood expressionless behind a seated Sadira. He’d pulled on a deep blue shirt, but had yet to button it. They were all awaiting my arrival. How nice.

“The Elders are waiting for you,” Roberto said.

“And Tristan?” I asked him, stopping the nightwalker as he turned toward the doors. Roberto turned back, his eyes sliding over to the young vampire as a dark smile lifted his red lips.

“He may stay behind. He has not been invited to court.”

I looked from Roberto over to Tristan, who was watching me with a desperate look in his eyes. Had I just put him in even greater danger? The Coven had granted my wish, but they never were so generous without a specific reason. If Tristan remained behind, he would be unprotected, vulnerable to any other nightwalker lurking in the city. Of course, he would have been in the same danger if he was coming with the rest of us. But someone feared that I might interfere with tonight’s planned entertainment if I was around, so I was effectively removed from the equation. If I was with the Coven, I couldn’t protect Tristan here.

I cursed myself and my stupidity. I had tried to outmaneuver the Coven in an attempt to protect the young nightwalker and only made an even bigger mess. He wouldn’t survive an encounter with the court, but I also doubted he would make it through the evening alone in the hotel room.

While I was never an official member of the court, I had seen what it was capable of, played a part in its games as both prey and predator. Nightwalkers were resilient creatures who could survive all manner of physical torture for hours on end. But it was more than the physical pain that left a creature curled in a pool of its own blood, spewing an endless litany of pleas and prayers for mercy or death. They played with their prey until its mind shattered like a stained-glass window, so there was nothing left. No sense of self or reality.

My eyes jerked to Sadira as she stood and walked over to us while Tristan remained standing by her empty chair, one hand tightly gripping the back as if it were his last lifeline of safety.

“Say it,” I growled at Sadira. My narrowed eyes followed her as she slipped by me and stood near the double doors.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, but she wouldn’t meet my gaze nor would she look back at Tristan.