Dawnbreaker

Nineteen

My upper arm had stopped bleeding by the time I reached the Plaza de Armas. A good portion of my sleeve was soaked in blood, making the minor cut look much worse than it actually was. If I was lucky, Danaus would overlook the little scratch. He hadn’t been in favor of me traveling through the city alone, and the blood covering my arm didn’t exactly argue my case.

I was struggling to ignore the bite of winter wind. With the city at more than two miles in the sky, the night air had dropped down into the low thirties. I reminded myself that though it was September, in Peru the land was slowly plodding through its winter months. Cold generally didn’t bother me, except when I was low on blood. The wound Rowe inflicted had left me needing to feed yet again. However, most of the tourists were now tucked away for the night in their respective hotels, forcing me to wait around in a dark corner for some drunken sot to stumble from one of the local bars so I could drain a pint off of him to keep me warm.

The Plaza de Armas was a large square flanked by a cathedral and two other churches to the northeast, and another, more ornate, church that rose up from the southeast. With a frown, I was forced to cut between the quartet to reach the Hostal Loreto. As I walked, I mentally reached out and tapped the minds of the nightwalkers around me, sending them images of my route and calling them to my side. When I reached the Loreto, I could feel close to forty vampires approaching. It was going to get crowded.

Of course, that concern was temporarily derailed when I passed through the lobby and halted at the entrance to the bar. It was as if I had left Peru and stepped back into the United States. It looked like so many of the places I had visited in the U.S., with its enormous bar, crowded tables, and scattering of televisions flashing whatever sporting event their satellite could pick up. I could only guess that the owner was a motorcycle fanatic because the walls were covered in photographs, posters, and other biker paraphernalia. This theme was evenly balanced against the soccer posters that also covered the walls. Maybe not the exact kind of decoration you would find in an American bar, but close enough to make a traveling Yankee feel at home.

After scanning the room briefly, I located Danaus near the back talking to Eduardo. Weaving through the throng, I joined the pair. However, Eduardo took one look at me and excused himself before shuffling off to the kitchen. I shrugged as I slid into a chair across from the hunter.

“He thinks he may be able to track down a couple of tourist vans,” Danaus said. “The drive to Ollantaytambo is about two hours, probably longer at night.”

“How many can fit in a van?”

“About ten.”

“We’re going to need more than two vans,” I murmured, my eyes drifting up to the entrance, where a steady stream of nightwalkers poured into the bar and headed over to our table. Not one of them looked like a local. There was no chance of blending in, but then again, I hoped to have them all out of Cuzco before dawn.

I bit back a curse and closed my eyes for a moment when I discovered that Stefan was leading the group across the room. While he was slimmer and a few inches shorter than Danaus, there was something very impressive about the vampire. He was only a few years shy of being considered an Ancient, but you couldn’t tell it by the way his powers were pushing against the walls and filling the air. Like me, Stefan had been created with care and patience. He was a First Blood and he carried himself as if he were royalty. Stefan had no idea what it meant to be chum.

To make matters worse, his appearance was absolutely heart-stopping. In general, all nightwalkers are attractive. It’s almost like evolution considered it one of the items necessary for our survival, like the white fur of a snowshoe hare. How else would we lure our prey? But Stefan’s beauty was so perfect it was almost frightening. At the moment, his dark brown hair was cut short and brushed to the side so it hung slightly over his left eye, which was a cold, heartless shade of pale gray.

And Stefan was as cold as he was beautiful. I’d say he had inspired Oscar Wilde to write his Dorian Gray tale, except that I thought Dorian had more redeeming qualities than Stefan.

We’d met only a couple of times, and he had a very reluctant respect for me. In his eyes, we were of the same elite class. We were also both survivors of Machu Picchu, not that I remembered him being here. Of course, I’m sure I managed to destroy whatever grudging respect he had for me through my continued association with Danaus.

“I’m surprised,” I said, arching one brow at him when he was standing beside our table. “I never thought I would see you in Peru again.”

With an elegant shrug of his slim shoulders, he said, “I have been to the ancient city before. I know its layout.” His voice danced around the room, melodious and seductive at the same time. He made it seem as if we were going out for an average night of hunting through the streets of Paris. I knew better. There were no signs of concern in his languid gray eyes or along the corners of his full, soft lips, but I knew. Very few of the nightwalkers that visited Machu Picchu five centuries ago had survived. We were pressing our luck by returning.

“And the Coven ordered your appearance,” I said, almost flinching at the unexpected hardness that filled my tone.

“They made the request; I complied graciously,” he corrected, with a slight trace of French softening his words. His tone was still bland and bored, but something flashed briefly in his eyes. It was too easy to push his buttons, and I reluctantly relented. There was no time to play.

“What exactly was their request?”

This time a smile of genuine amusement lifted his lips and sparkled in his slumberous eyes. For a moment they seemed to glow in his delight. “To protect you.”

“Anything else?”

“Specifically, I have been asked to protect you, Sadira, Jabari, and him, no matter what,” he said, his voice hardening when he was finally forced to acknowledge Danaus.

“So I thought,” I murmured. Jabari and Sadira had yet to appear, and I had a feeling they wouldn’t until the last minute. “Would you care to join us? It seems we may have some logistics to work out.”

With a regal nod of his head, Stefan took the empty seat next to me, while a woman with short blond hair sat next to Danaus. A third nightwalker male pulled over a chair from an empty table and sat at the end of the table. I noticed that the other nightwalkers that strolled into the bar had taken up various tables around the room, but were not too far from our location. I had no doubt they would be able to hear everything we said.

“This is George,” Stefan said, introducing the vampire at the end of the table and motioning absently with his right hand. The pale, slender gentleman with the narrow face and cinnamon-colored hair nodded toward me and Danaus, sitting back in his chair as if he didn’t have a care in the world. As best as I could tell, he had at least three centuries under his belt and most likely had never seen a member of the naturi.

“And this is Bertha,” Stefan continued, waving his hand toward the pert little female vampire seated beside Danaus.

My mouth fell open; there was no controlling my reaction. After a while even someone my age will start to buy into some of the nightwalker mystique we had promoted to the humans. Vampires were not named Bertha. We had sleek, exotic names that rang of dead civilizations.

“I know,” the nightwalker cheerfully said with a giggle when I finally managed to close my mouth. “It’s a horrible name. I’ve tried to change it, but nothing ever sticks. You can just call me Bert or Bertie. Everyone does.” The little blonde had sparkling, wide blue eyes and an adorable button nose. Her cheeks were round and dimpled when she smiled. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen when she had been reborn. I shoved back my initial reaction of sympathy at the sound of her name and smiled broadly at her. I imagined she hadn’t tried too hard to change her name. Her disguise was perfect. Who would suspect that a five-foot-nothing, little blonde called Bertie was a lethal predator?

“A pleasure,” I said with a nod of my head.

The smile in her eyes flickered for a moment as she assessed me, weighing me, before the smile widened on her cherry-colored lips. She had my measure. I doubted we would underestimate each other.

“This is Danaus,” I said, letting my eyes drift back over to the hunter’s grim visage. He didn’t move, hardly breathed as the nightwalkers looked him over. When everyone was introduced and settled at the table, I turned my focus back to Stefan. “How many have arrived?”

“Nearly forty nightwalkers, with more promised from Jabari. In addition, more than thirty human guardians have arrived.”

“Great. Cannon fodder,” I grumbled, but Stefan remained nonplussed by the idea. What did he care? Humans were easy to replace.

“We have to reach the Sanctuary Lodge tonight,” I said, folding my arms over my chest. “As soon as the sun sets tomorrow, we have to hit the mountain. I don’t know when they will attempt the sacrifice, but the sooner we take out the naturi on the mountain, the better.”

“A number of us can fly,” Bertie piped up. She sat calmly forward, her fingers threaded and resting on the table.

“How many?”

“Ten.”

“That would put only a small portion at the lodge tonight,” Danaus interjected with a grim shake of his head. “Do we want to risk making the trip during the day? They know we’re here.”

My fingers restlessly played with the knife and fork that had been wrapped in a paper napkin when I sat down. I unfolded the napkin and slowly turned the knife over with my fingertips. “A daylight trip is far too risky,” I said absently, a part of me wondering how I was going to handle Cynnia in the midst of all this chaos.

“We could double up or make a couple trips,” Bertie replied. “It takes an hour at most to reach the lodge. We could have all the nightwalkers to the mountain before dawn.”

“The humans could take the first train in the morning,” Danaus said, sitting forward so that he could lean his forearms on the table. “They’d reach the lodge well before noon,”

“Leaving us without protection deep in naturi territory for more than five hours,” George grimly said.

“We have no choice,” I quickly put in, before an argument could start. “Stefan, Bertie, organize those nightwalkers that can fly. Everyone doubles up. Nightwalkers go to the lodge first. Oldest and then the youngest. The first set secures the lodge.”

“Already done,” Stefan said, and looked down his nose at me, giving me a patronizing smile. “The lodge had been closed and emptied due to repairs.”

“Excellent. Danaus and I will take a small group in a van to Ollantaytambo. After Cuzco has been emptied, a pair of nightwalkers can come and get Danaus and me. The last of the group can take the train from Ollantaytambo to Aguas Calientes and then secure our luggage on the bus to the lodge in the morning.”

“Why are you going to Ollantaytambo?” Stefan demanded.

“There’s something I wish to check. It’s only a couple hours away by car. By the time the last group reaches the lodge, we should be done and ready to be picked up. Also, it will be a shorter distance to fly for whoever comes for us,” I argued. My hands gripped the end of the table as I fought to keep my tone even. I didn’t need a fight with Stefan.

“Bertha and George will see to the arrangements,” he stiffly said, daring me to contradict him. “I will accompany you and the hunter to Ollantaytambo.”

“As you wish,” I agreed, flashing him a brilliant smile that took him by surprise. “Select four humans to accompany us. We’ll meet you outside this hotel in a couple hours.” Pushing out of my chair, I nodded to the three nightwalkers at the table with me. I never raised my voice, but I knew all the vampires within the bar could hear me. “All possessions are to be labeled and dropped off at the train station before you leave town. Your guardians will retrieve them from the bus in the morning.”

With Danaus beside me, I walked out of the bar and through the hotel to the plaza.

The hunter didn’t speak up until we were several yards from the hostel and safe from being overhead. As we walked back toward the shabby hotel that we occupied along with Shelly and Cynnia, he grabbed my blood-streaked arm and held it up between us. “I see everything went well.”

“You’re just jealous that you aren’t the cause,” I teased, pulling my arm out of his grip.

“You could be right.” He flashed me one of his rare half smiles before it completely disappeared. “Will we be hearing more from our dark companion?”

“Undoubtedly, but I at least gave Rowe something to think about. He knows we have Cynnia. He also knows that I’ll kill her if he so much as breathes in my direction. Of course, I told him that I’d kill her if he went through with the sacrifice, so he’s already faced with an ugly dilemma.”

“How are we going to protect her during the daylight hours once we reach the lodge? The naturi could easily hit the place while all the nightwalkers are out for the count. They’d burn straight through any humans that happened to be defending the nightwalkers. Speaking of which, how are we going to protect the nightwalkers during the day?” Danaus suddenly stopped walking and shook his head. “I can’t believe I just uttered those words.”

Laughing, I threaded my arm through his and forced him to start walking again toward the hotel. “I knew you’d finally come around.”

“Mira,” he said in a low, warning voice. I was pressing my luck.

“Joke,” I said, but still snuggled a little closer to him. Not only was he radiating wonderful body heat, but his powers flared out around him as he constantly scanned the area. “How many?” I asked when we were only a few yards away from the hotel.

“Three within a block. Another dozen are scattered throughout the city. Most seem to be a distance from here. To the north, lower elevation, possibly.”

“They’re already at Machu Picchu,” I confirmed. “It’s going to be interesting to see if they let us set up an outpost at the lodge. It rests at the foot of the Incan retreat.”

“How exactly are we going to do that?”

“I’m sure it can’t be too hard. I mean, we will have a talented naturi and an earth witch with us. I’m sure between the two of them, they should be able to figure out something that would keep us all protected.”

Danaus stopped walking again and glared down at me, less than patiently waiting for the real response. I sighed heavily and pulled him along until he was finally walking toward the hotel of his own accord.

“Stefan also knows a couple interesting tricks,” I said, “though I would never say as much to his face. The bastard has enough of an inflated ego, and at the moment, I truly doubt that I am his most favorite person in the world.”

“Old boyfriend?”

An unladylike snort escaped me before I could stop it, and I clenched my free hand at my side. I didn’t like Stefan. I didn’t like his kind. He believed that anything weaker than him was put on this earth for his amusement; that included both human and nightwalker. Lycanthropes were a temptation, but since they tended to travel in packs, it was more difficult to pick off just one victim. But that didn’t put the occasional shifter beyond his reach.

“Hardly,” I sarcastically snapped. “Stefan is nearly an Ancient. I have no doubt that he can practically taste that one-thousand-year mark and it’s now eating him alive that I have claimed the open seat on the Coven—the very seat I know he planned to claim for himself.”

“So we have a new reason not to trust him,” Danaus murmured, gazing down at my upturned face.

I smiled at my companion, feeling silly for enjoying this quiet moment. It was one of the rare times when we weren’t yelling at each other. Danaus wasn’t cursing me for what I was while we plotted to kill each other. We were a team with a single goal ahead of us—stop the naturi from opening the door. It made me feel as if we were unstoppable. I knew that it wasn’t the truth, but at least it was a comforting feeling as we walked together down the cold, dark cobblestone streets of Cuzco with naturi surrounding us.

“Normally, I would agree with you, but at the moment, Stefan is going to be my greatest protector. He’s got a direct command from the Coven to protect you and me. Destroying one of us right now isn’t going to earn him any points with the Coven. If anything, it’s going to get him killed for failing to complete his duty.”

Danaus stopped walking and turned his body so he was facing me. The wind flew down the narrow street, slamming him in the back before flowing around him to hit me in the chest. My hair danced about my face as if it had taken on a life of its own, like Medusa’s snakes.

“The Coven,” he said, and then stopped again. He raised both of his hands, closing them into fists before lowering them back to his sides in frustration. “Why? I mean, couldn’t there have been another way? Or could I have…” His voice faded as he tried to put into words the maelstrom of feelings that were swirling around inside him. It was tempting to just close my eyes and creep along our connection to try to get a clearer picture of exactly what he was feeling, but I decided against it. There were some things that were better if they remained unknown.

I slowly reached forward and laid my hand over his heart. Its beat was steady and even, a heartbeat that I could spend centuries listening to, letting it lull me into peaceful rest. “There was no other way. Joining the Coven may have been a mistake, but I’m stuck with it now. I’ll find a way to make the best of it, without being a puppet for Jabari.”

“Or a target for Macaire and Elizabeth,” he said, laying his hand over mine. “You promised that one day we would finish our dance. I still mean to kill you, nightwalker.”

A sad smile drifted across my lips as I rested my forehead against his hand, which was still covering mine. “Afraid of a little competition?”

“It seems like half the world wants you dead.”

“Yes, but only after I’m done risking my life for them,” I said, lifting my head again. “Let’s get going. We need to check on the girls.” I stepped away from him and started walking down the street again, ending our brief moment.

“Why are we going to Ollantaytambo?” Danaus inquired, at my side again, his hands shoved into his pockets. He had no obvious weapons strapped to his body, but I had no doubt that he probably had a number of knives. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask how many naturi were now close to our location, but I swallowed the words. The hunter was on edge already, his eyes continuously scanning the area. If we were being threatened, he’d tell me.

“Even since you mentioned Ollantaytambo, it’s been ringing in my head. The name keeps teasing at some memory in the back of my brain,” I said, not bothering to filter the frustration from my voice.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. A bitter wind whipped through the city, pulling at my hair so that a few tendrils danced across my face. I hooked a bit of loose hair behind my ear, but it refused to stay put. “I’ve been to Peru just once, and I thought only at Machu Picchu. But I feel like I should remember something about Ollantaytambo—maybe I’ve been there or they mentioned it. I don’t know, but I want to check it out.”

“So this is just a side trip while we wait for the others to be taken to the lodge?” Danaus replied.

“Possibly,” I admitted with a shrug. “Get the van organized with Eduardo. I’m going back to the hotel to get our ‘things’ and talk to some locals. Maybe I can get some information about Ollantaytambo.”

“Mira…” he started. I could guess what he was going to say. Something about the number of naturi lurking in Peru, in Cuzco, or in our hotel. They would always be close, but I didn’t think that Rowe would be willing to make a move just yet. Or at least, I didn’t think that Nyx would allow him to risk the life of her sister. Unless she really did want Cynnia dead, and then I was about to be proven seriously wrong.

“Is one standing behind me?” I sharply asked before he could continue.

Danaus furrowed his brow and frowned at me. “No.”

“Then I don’t want to know. Don’t tell me how outnumbered we are until I ask.”

With a nod and half smile, he headed back toward Hostal Loreto to find Eduardo. I trudged back to the hotel, my hands in my pockets and my head down against the wind. I didn’t want to tell him that fear twisted in my stomach whenever I heard the word “Ollantaytambo.” There was something I was supposed to remember about that place. As best as I could recall, I had woken up one night on Machu Picchu after being in Spain the night before. I don’t know how I had gotten to Machu Picchu and I never asked. Pain quickly accompanied consciousness during those long nights, and petty thoughts about how I’d traveled a long distance were unimportant.

Had the naturi spoken of Ollantaytambo during my imprisonment? Or worse? Had I been there but couldn’t remember? I had to know. It probably had nothing to do with the sacrifice and the opening of the door, but I knew I would never have another chance to find out. If we were lucky, we’d zip in and out of Ollantaytambo without being noticed and then be flown to the lodge. Of course, Lady Fortune had given me the cold shoulder for much of the past few months. Why change now?