Dayhunter

SIX

When 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.

“Say it! Do what you would never do for me,” I shouted, pointing at the young nightwalker. But she didn’t look at him. She didn’t speak. She lifted her chin slightly and continued to stare at the wall.

Against my better judgment, my eyes fell back on Tristan. I could still remember his smell from when he lay in bed with me, the sweet mix of heather and blood. The feel of his smooth skin pressed to mine and the memory of how he spooned me last night filled my brain.

I kept telling myself that he was just chum, entertainment was his purpose for being, but the words were bile in the back of my throat. A couple of nights earlier he had gone into the woods with me and attacked the naturi. He had fought beside me when we were outnumbered and destined to die horrible deaths at the hand of our enemies. He had stood beside me because he believed I would keep my word and save him from our maker. He had faith in my sense of honor.

Rage pumped through my veins, pushing aside the blood. I hated him. I hated myself. I hated the fates that had bought us to this precipice. There was no escaping the promise I had made nor living with myself if I even tried to.

Ignoring Sadira and the rest of the occupants of the room, I marched over to Tristan. Roughly grabbing a fistful of his hair, I pulled him toward me. “No!” Sadira’s desperate scream echoed through the silent room. She had suddenly realized what I’d been about to do.

I had enough time to release Tristan’s hair before she crashed into me, crushing me into the wall while knocking Tristan out of my reach. I tried to shove her off me but her nails were digging into my bare arms and I couldn’t get a solid hold on her.

“You can’t have him,” she snarled.

“You’re giving him up to the court,” I countered, finally getting a grip of her thin bony shoulders.

“For a night of entertainment.”

“They’ll kill him!” I shouted, pushing her away. She immediately came at me, but I backhanded her, snapping her head around as the blow sent her to the floor.

“You don’t know that,” she argued.

“I do. And so do you.”

Tristan is my child. The statement came as an insidious whisper across my brain, causing me to flinch as if Sadira had struck me. Just like you will always be my child, my Mira. You can’t have him.

“I claim him,” I snarled, balling my hands into fists as I tried to fight her claim on my will. Every fiber of my being screamed to obey her. Everything within me demanded that I kneel down and crawl into her waiting arms. But I couldn’t. I had promised Tristan.

To my surprise, I was able to lift my arm to Tristan, beckoning him over. Sadira had the ability to manipulate my thoughts and emotions, but she wasn’t as strong as Jabari. She couldn’t control me physically like a puppet on a string.

Again I roughly grabbed a handful of Tristan’s hair and pulled him close. Sadira increased her presence in my brain until the pain was positively excruciating. Tears streaked my cheeks, escaping from my clenched eyes. Not caring about the pain I was causing Tristan, I sank my fangs into his throat and drank deeply. It didn’t require much, only a couple of swallows. The blood also seemed to wash Sadira’s presence from my brain.

In those few seconds, I pulled all of Tristan’s history and emotions into my brain. In a flash I saw his childhood home in Geneva, the beautiful face of his dead wife, the promise of a daughter who never survived, and a horrific slide show of events that comprised his years with Sadira.

Lifting my mouth from his neck, I pushed him down to his knees in front of me. “You belong to me now. You are mine until I choose to free you,” I said in a shaky voice, my narrowed gaze capturing his wide blue eyes. Releasing him, I turned back to the others who were closely watching me and focused my attention on Roberto. “He is mine,” I declared. Those three words hung like a worn hangman’s noose in the center of the room for several seconds, daring anyone to argue with my decision. “Anyone touches him and I will know. Harm him and they will answer to me.”

“But the Elders have already promised—” Roberto began, but I didn’t let him finish that statement.

“No one touches him,” I warned, my voice dropping to a low growl. “Tell the others.”

Roberto nodded stiffly, his anger trickling through the room. The Coven might have granted the right to play with Tristan, but anyone who came near the young nightwalker would have to deal with my wrath. A vampire then had to decide if he thought the Coven would protect him from me, and there were no promises to be found there.

My gaze drifted over to Danaus, to find him frowning darkly at me, his brow seemingly furrowed in confusion. I could sense his disgust for what I had done. In his mind, I’d taken a slave. There was nothing redeeming in the ownership of another sentient creature. However, sometimes you had to do distasteful things to protect those weaker than you. If I were lucky, I had extended Tristan’s life, if only by a few hours.

Unfortunately, it meant that I’d done the one thing I vowed I would never do—I had started a family. Tristan was mine for as long as I claimed him. He was mine to guide and protect. In my domain of Savannah, I was the Keeper, but that meant I preserved the peace and protected our secret. No nightwalker belonged to me or based his or her daily decisions on my wants and desires. Knox and Amanda acted as my assistants, but they were free to leave Savannah and pursue their own lives at any time. Tristan could not. And I could not leave without Tristan.

Anger bubbled in my chest, and I had yet to leave the confines of our hotel room. This was not going to go well. At least Tristan was a little better protected than he had been a couple minutes ago. But I’d crossed a major line, and stolen Sadira’s plaything from her while she watched. It happened occasionally among nightwalkers, but never had the child of a vampire stolen another one of her maker’s children. It reflected very poorly on Sadira. If she was going to save face at all, she would have to challenge me for Tristan.

And at the moment, I welcomed the chance to tear into her. Beyond our own dark history, she had been willing to leave Tristan to the tender mercies of the nightwalkers who hung around the Coven. She had done the same to me years ago, and my strength and ability to control fire were the only things that kept me alive. Tristan would not have lived to see the sunrise if I hadn’t stepped up. He still might not, but at least he now had a fighting chance.

“Let’s go,” I said, glaring briefly at Sadira as I swept past where she still half lay on the floor and out of the room. Hatred burned in her eyes and her fingers hooked into claws. We would have words later, I had no doubt, but now we had other things to worry about. Silently, we filed down to the waiting speedboat, while Tristan remained alone in the hotel room.

Around us, people crowded the canals and sped across the Lagoon, headed out for an evening of entertainment or returning home from a long day of work. A warm summer breeze caressed my bare skin, holding me in its embrace. The air was laced with the salty scent of the Adriatic Sea. Ahead of us, the island of San Clemente loomed, its large hotel bobbing as the boat bounced and cut through the waves created by some of the larger shuttle boats. It took less than fifteen minutes to cross the Lagoon and dock at the island. It was both the longest and shortest fifteen minutes of my existence.

As I stood to disembark, I glanced over at Danaus, who had sat beside me on the trip over. His eyes briefly darted to my back and then back to my face. He silently mouthed the words Kick me, bringing a reluctant smile to my lips. That’s pretty much what it all felt like, but for this ugly moment in time, he was with me in this endeavor.

“I assume you know the way,” Roberto said, his lips curling with distaste. It was somewhat amusing. Where he had been gracious yesterday, he was equally snobbish and critical today. I had obviously put a crimp in the night’s planned entertainment. Fine, let him take it up with the management. I already had a few choice words for them.

“I know it. Have fun tonight,” I mocked, wagging my fingers at him as I stepped onto the dock. The nightwalker said nothing as he put the boat into reverse and backed away from the landing. I almost pitied his next meal.

Frowning, I led the way down the dock to a path that wound past the hotel and deeper into the island. Even if I hadn’t been to the court before, I would have been able to find my way. Power throbbed from deep within the tiny island, and the concentration of nightwalkers grew thicker the farther we walked.

I stayed in front as we strolled down the path, Danaus behind my left shoulder while Sadira hung back on my right. Tension jumped and crackled through my frame. The fine hairs on my arms and on the back of my neck suddenly stood on end when I sensed one of the nightwalkers break off from the rest of the hidden pack and start to approach. I couldn’t see him yet but I could feel him.

“Remain calm,” I murmured to Danaus, but I think I needed to hear the words as well. My stomach twisted with anticipation like a snake winding itself into a tight coil. My focus had been completely on facing the Elders. I had not anticipated the long walk to the main hall. Every time I’d traveled to the island since leaving Sadira, I was under Jabari’s protective wing, removed from the rigors of the horde of flunkies and courtiers who hung on the various Elders.

I stopped walking when the nightwalker stepped into the glow of a nearby street lamp. Valerio. We had traveled together for a time years ago. He was older than I was, but not yet an Ancient. He was close, though. Too close to that thousand-year mark for me to feel any kind of comfort.

“Did you leave Vienna for me?” I inquired, keeping my tone light and playful. “I’m flattered.” I slipped my hands into the back pockets of my pants as Valerio strolled to the edge of the light.

He bowed graciously to me, his arms thrown open wide. It must have been a signal because I felt several other nightwalkers move closer, but they remained hidden in the shadows cast by the trees that dotted the island, creating a tiny forest.

“I come to court occasionally for a bit of entertainment,” he said with a slight shrug of his right shoulder. “When I heard you would be appearing, I thought I’d pop in so we could catch up.”

Valerio was the typical handsome vampire, with his blond-streaked brown hair and lovely dark brown eyes. He had a dreamy, movie-star kind of look about him. More of a romantic but sadly misunderstood lead, rather than the dark villain. His heritage was something of a Spanish-Italian hybrid.

“How thoughtful!” I laughed. I was trying my best to keep my posture relaxed, but it wasn’t an easy task with so many hostile nightwalkers edging closer. Tension hummed in my frame, tightening the muscles in my shoulders.

“But I’ve heard that you’ve taken away some of our entertainment for the night.”

“I see Roberto has been kind enough to spread the sad news.” Ahh, the vampire grapevine strikes again. Telepathy among my own kind had its benefits as well as drawbacks. This once it might work to my benefit, not that I was particularly counting on it. “Yes, Tristan has been removed from the menu. He’s too young to be of any interest for this group.”

“Fortunately for us, that young one was not the main course,” purred a female voice from the shadows. A curvy brunette slunk out of the darkness to my left. At just over five feet, the vampire was an attractive creature in her breezy skirt with its soft, floral pattern and pale rose shirt that left her slender shoulders bare. While we had never been formally introduced, I knew she was called Gwen. She wasn’t particularly nice. I could guess who the main course was, and so could Danaus, because the tension in his body ramped up considerably when she started to slink closer.

“The great Mira has returned to us,” Gwen mocked. “And not only can she command fire, but she has tamed the hunter.”

My eyes slid briefly to Danaus, but his gaze never wavered from the female nightwalker. “Tamed” was hardly the word I’d use, but now was not the time to quibble over semantics. I was sure Danaus would have something to say about this if we survived.

“I look forward to tasting him,” she continued. Gwen reached up to touch his face, but I caught her wrist in a flash of movement and shoved her backward a few steps. Her eyes glowed with outrage but she managed to keep from hissing. She was a toady for Elizabeth and long used to having her way. We were close in age, but she had been reborn chum, giving me an advantage. Of course, challenging her directly would be seen as a challenge to Elizabeth, and I was trying to cut back on the number of fights I picked with Coven Elders.

Around us, more nightwalkers closed in. They were now leaning against the trees that lined the sidewalk and lounging in the grass. A quick count revealed sixteen vampires of varying age; more than the usual welcoming committee.

“He belongs to me,” I said in a low voice, though I’m sure they all heard me.

“You’ve gotten greedy, Mira. First Tristan and now the hunter,” Gwen said, taking a couple slow, cautious steps toward me again. “You’ve been away for too long. Forgotten your place. We’ve been promised a taste of the hunter.”

“I don’t share.” My soft voice was filled with enough lurid menace to give her pause in her steady approach.

“You will if the Coven commands it,” Gwen replied with a smug smile. The nightwalker was attractive enough, but her mouth bothered me. It was a large, shapeless thing, as if it were simply a giant slash across her face. And every time she spoke, an ugly wound reopened, marring her lovely features.

“Consider yourself warned,” I said, matching her smile with one of my own. “Touch him or Tristan and you will face me. There will be no hiding behind the skirts of your mistress.”

A haunting glow returned to her hazel eyes and her fangs glinted briefly in the lamplight. “You wouldn’t dare.” There seemed to be something hesitant and unsure in her expression, but she couldn’t back down with everyone watching.

“No?”

I dropped my hands to my sides with my palms open. Out of the ground sprang two dozen snakes made of bright orange fire. The horde slithered around us once then shot out along the ground in all directions, chasing away the nightwalkers. No one was caught by my fiery serpents, and I extinguished the flames when the other nightwalkers were a comfortable distance away. Only Valerio remained behind. He had jumped onto the street lamp, with his feet braced against the pole while one hand clasped the top. Fury contorted his handsome features and the light reflected in his eyes.

“You’re forbidden to use fire here!” he shouted. A fire snake slowly slithered around the pole, waiting for its prey to descend. I extended my right leg so that only the tip of my boot touched the ground. The snake instantly changed directions and came back to me. It wriggled up my leg and wrapped around my waist once before disappearing.

“We’ve been betrayed. All bets are off,” I replied in a hard, cold voice.

“Yes, we have,” he said, his dark gaze locking on Danaus. His words cut through me. I knew it looked like I was betraying our kind to the one who had hunted us for centuries. I could have told him that Danaus had protected Sadira, Tristan, and even Jabari in England, but I would have been wasting my words. Actions were the only thing these creatures believed. Words were just neatly packaged lies.

“When the day comes that you have to choose a side, ask yourself who will be willing to protect you,” I called back, drawing his grim gaze back to my face. Tonight alone, I had sworn to protect not only another vampire, but a human, from the Coven. Any protection offered by the Coven was a flighty, mercurial thing at best, which seemed to change each time the sun set. I still hadn’t been forgiven by Valerio, but at least I’d given him something to think about. It was a start.

We traveled the rest of the way to the main hall unmolested. That’s not to say we weren’t surrounded by a sizable group of very pissed-off nightwalkers. At the moment, however, they were content to let the Elders work me over first.