Dayhunter

SEVENTEEN

There was no one waiting to rip our heads off when we shoved open the double doors to the Great Hall. I tried to take that as a good sign. Leaving the heavy wood and iron doors open, we turned our attention to the other set of doors that barred the way into the throne room. The candles in the iron candelabras sputtered and danced in the light breeze, with a few snapping out with a wisp of gray smoke. Absently waving my hand in their general direction, I caused the teardrop flames to steady and grow brighter as I scanned the deep, shadowy corners for potential attackers. We might have sensed only five vampires and a scattering of humans, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

We were about to proceed to the main audience chamber when one of the doors opened and Elizabeth slipped through the slim crack. She quickly shut the door behind her again before either of us could sneak a peek into the room. Her pale yellow dress with a high empire waist made her look like a spring tulip. She reminded me vaguely of Napoleon’s Josephine, composed and regal, with her long dark hair artfully piled on her head and diamonds sparkling around her neck.

I halted, resisting the urge to reach for the dagger I had put back in its sheath at my waist. This was the first time I’d seen Elizabeth since I slaughtered Gwen and left her heart on the Elder’s chair. Acts like that didn’t particularly endear you to the Ancients, and I hadn’t exactly counted on a direct confrontation with the nightwalker.

“You have no business here,” she crisply said in English with a faint accent I couldn’t quite place. French possibly, but older. She was a tiny figure, touching five feet only when her hair was piled high on her head in a series of twists and curls. Her hands were closed at her sides but not yet clenched into fists. It was on the tip of my tongue to make some comment that she had been sent like a messenger to stop me from entering the room, but I had enough trouble planned. Why go looking for a small, petty fight like that when I could thumb my nose at the whole Coven at once?

I gave her a slight bow of my head. Not quite the usual subservience I’m sure she’d grown accustomed to, but at least I didn’t try to ignore her. “I have business with Jabari,” I announced.

“And I still have business with you,” she said, lifting her chin so she could look me in the eye. “You destroyed my property.”

“Your property was warned to stay away from my property,” I bit out, taking a step closer so I loomed over her. “Your property was warned of the consequences. If you didn’t want your property damaged, you should have reined it in.” With my heels, I had close to ten inches on this woman, and regardless of the power I knew she wielded, my physical presence and maybe even my reputation were enough to make her take one step backward. Around us, I let the candlelight flicker a bit, with some of the candles going out, breathing new life into the shadows. I hated talking about Gwen like a piece of chattel. I may have despised the creature, but she had been a “living,” sentient creature.

“You owe me, Fire Starter,” Elizabeth continued. Each word escaped her lips sharp and tight, as if she ground them between her teeth before releasing them.

“Then I suggest you start a tab, because it’s going to get worse before I leave here tonight,” I replied, enjoying the smirk that lifted the left corner of my mouth.

As I tried to step around her, I saw her swing her left hand toward my back from the corner of my eye. Spinning on my right heel, I slipped the dagger from its sheath on my hip and sliced at her throat. I hadn’t expected her to directly attack me. It wasn’t the typical style of the Elders. They had flunkies around to do their dirty work. Of course, I knew absolutely nothing about Elizabeth, which made her as dangerous as Macaire and Jabari.

However, Danaus had already stepped in, grabbing the nightwalker’s wrist and holding it immobile above her head before I could even touch my blade to the Ancient’s smooth skin.

“Should I kill her now?” he asked simply, his face blank. I looked down at Elizabeth, whose wide eyes were darting between me and Danaus. If she flinched, Danaus would snap her wrist without a thought. And if I said the word, he’d boil what blood filled her veins until it blackened her skin and turned her organs into a pool of stinking goo.

I slipped the knife back into its sheath. “Later,” I said with a faint frown. If she thought we’d spared her life now, we might be able to buy her assistance later. Besides, I wasn’t convinced that Danaus could destroy her that easily.

He nodded once and released her, giving the nightwalker a slight shove to precede us toward the doors that led to the Great Hall. The Elder said nothing, but stiffly walked toward the doors, which were pulled invisibly open when she approached. It was one of the abilities I envied the most. Nightwalkers didn’t generally attain the ability of telekinesis until close to the thousand-year mark. I hoped to get it a little earlier. At the moment the best I could do was rattle a teacup and saucer—not exactly useful or intimidating.

The enormous three-story room was ablaze with candlelight, as if someone was afraid of the monsters that lurked in the dark corners. Along the east and west walls, close to twenty floor candelabras flickered, with more than a dozen large yellow candles in each. The chandeliers overhead also glowed with life, illuminating the various flags and banners that hung from the ceiling. Even the black marble floor reflected the light.

Only the dais, with the seats for the Coven and Our Liege, remained blanketed with shadows. Elizabeth returned to her seat on the dais next to Macaire. Jabari sat in the third Coven seat, and the fourth was still vacant, along with the seat of Our Liege. The three nightwalkers appeared to be alone, but Danaus sensed the presence of the naturi so they had to be lurking around somewhere. Had they left the hall when we appeared?

“I do not recall summoning your presence,” Macaire declared when Danaus and I reached the center of the room. We stopped walking, preferring to maintain a little distance between us and the Coven, not that it would keep us any safer. I was just hoping to buy an extra second or two to react.

“I came to claim something that belongs to me,” I replied, shoving my fingers into the back pockets of my pants, affecting a casual stance. I didn’t know if it worked, because I was sure everyone in the room could smell my fear.

“A vampire is here we didn’t agree on,” said a hypnotic voice from somewhere near the ceiling. The melodious sound was like a dream in the way it bounced off the walls before finally drifting down to me. “A stranger who carries no value here. Should we return with the threat of dawn when we will find no unwelcome ears?”

“The werewolf we came for is near,” countered a second voice, not far from the location of the first. This one was significantly softer, but just as seductive as its companion. “You know leaving isn’t something we’d enjoy until they speak the words we must hear, and then back home we can take the wolf boy.”

“Oh, forgive me,” I quickly replied, giving a large sweeping bow to the three members of the Coven before me. “I had no idea you had guests. I’ll be happy to leave once Jabari hands over Nicolai.”

“Why would I do such a thing?” Jabari slowly inquired, his dark eyes narrowing on me while his long fingers tightened on the arms of his throne. I half expected to hear the wood cracking and groaning under the force of his grip.

“Do you deny you sent him with the order to kill me?” I asked, my tone sweeter than sugar. My head cocked to the left and I flashed him a toothy smile. I knew when he’d figured out exactly what I was doing there because at least one of the wooden arms made a large cracking sound. Some small part of me prayed it was all an act for the rest of the Coven, or I was in serious trouble.

“He was sent for your heart,” Jabari admitted. His growing anger was causing his accent to thicken, pushing him closer to his traditional Egyptian. Sliding forward, he sat perched on his seat as if preparing to leap at me.

It was a fight for me to keep from taking a step back. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Confronting Jabari was like baiting a tiger—I’d be lucky if he didn’t rip my face off if I was wrong.

“Then I have come to claim the spoils of the fight. I spared his life, so it now belongs to me,” I said, forcing a smile. It was a very old tradition of my kind and not one frequently enforced simply because we typically killed whoever attacked us.

“You can’t have him,” Jabari snarled.

“What is the meaning of this?” Macaire demanded. A frown marred his distinguished features while his eyes darted between me and the Elder.

“He sent the lycanthrope to kill Mira,” Danaus replied, stepping forward so he was directly beside me. In no way attempting to hide his antagonism for the whole group, his right hand rested casually on the handle of one of the knives at his waist.

“Mira?” cried one of the female voices above my head. There was a sudden scrape of movement along the ceiling as if claws were scratching the stones overhead. There was a whisper of voices, words I couldn’t quite make out despite my keen hearing. I took a step backward and craned my head up in an attempt to see the creatures that lurked on the ceiling, but they remained hidden behind the scattering of flags and banners. Taking another step back, I intentionally bumped my shoulder into the hunter’s.

What the hell is up there? I sent the question directly into his brain, struggling to keep from sounding as terrified as I felt.

No idea.

I quickly stepped away from him at the sound of wings and a blur of shadow. One of the creatures swooped down from the ceiling and landed lightly on the floor directly between me and the Coven. I had to clamp down on my tongue to keep the scream from escaping when my eyes clearly took in the monster for the first time.

At close to five feet tall, the creature looked almost like a woman, though only by a stretch of the imagination. And that’s if you erased the batlike wings that stretched from the inside of her thin arms and down along her body. At the end of the wings were three long bony fingers, tipped with black claws. Her skin was flesh-colored and appeared paperthin since it sagged on her spindly body. However, it was her crowlike feet with their long talons clicking ominously on the marble floor that finally triggered a memory in my mind. This creature was the source of the ancient harpy mythology.

After encountering the two female naturi from the wind clan in the woods in England, I had assumed they were all the fairy-tale type, with elfin features and butterfly wings. Sure, Rowe looked different, but then everything about Rowe was different, from his black hair to his scars to his black wings. I never expected to find a naturi so horrifying to look upon.

“This is the monster who tamed the flame and reduced us to dusty ash,” the naturi said, taking a hesitant step closer to me. She wrapped her wings around herself so that her hands lightly gripped her bony shoulders, concealing her naked body. “Once again fulfilling her birth name. Yet, behind her lurks a bit of trash.” The creature’s narrowed yellow eyes turned to Danaus and closely inspected him, creeping yet another step closer.

“What is he? Please, tell me,” demanded a third voice from the ceiling. This one sounded younger, almost childlike in its pitch and impatient urgency. “He smells of sweat and weak human flesh, but carries behind him no shade of death. Not human born.”

“Nor vampire made,” chimed in a second from overhead.

“Nor wolf by moonlight torn,” finished the other naturi standing a few feet away.

“And he’s not for sale, so don’t get too attached,” I snapped, their strange rhyming grating on my nerves. I took a step sideways, to stand between Danaus and the naturi. The creature glared at me and retreated a step, keeping a comfortable distance between us. I was surprised they couldn’t identify the origin of the hunter’s powers. The naturi and bori were archenemies seemingly since the birth of time. You’d think they’d have recognized the presence of a bori no matter how faint. Then again, it had been more centuries than anyone could count since the last bori wandered the earth. Maybe they forgot what one felt like.

Struggling to tear my eyes off the creature with the stringy gray hair, I looked up at the Coven and said, “Just send out Nicolai, and we’ll be on our way.”

“We cannot,” Macaire said. “We have other plans for him.”

“Time to change your plans.” I smiled, slipping my dagger from my waist. I reached my free left hand behind me to the hunter, who took it. “Or Danaus and I turn anything that stinks of naturi into ash. Send out the wolf.”

Chaos erupted. The first harpy launched herself into the air with amazing speed and grace, disappearing among the flags hanging above. Again their voices swelled as they discussed something in their own language that I couldn’t quite make out. They either didn’t care for being threatened or had just figured out that the wolf I demanded was their soon-to-be sacrifice.

As I lifted my eyes to try to locate the three naturi that clung to the ceiling like overgrown bats, my brain filled with pain. At first Jabari had been the only presence pushing against my thoughts, but Danaus quickly shoved his way inside. Energy from both creatures surged through my frame, battling for dominance. The hunter was winning the battle, but I had a feeling it was only because he actually had physical contact with me, gripping my hand, while Jabari still sat several feet away on the dais. My scream shattered the air as the pain buckled my knees beneath me. I was only vaguely aware of the sound of my knife hitting the marble floor at the same time my knees came in contact with the cool stone.

My bones felt as if they were being ground into dust as Jabari and Danaus fought for control. Danaus still held my hand, and I tried to pull it free in a blind effort to stop the pain. Of course, if he released me, there was a chance that Jabari would win control and the hunter would die. There were no voices in my head this time. Just raw, angry power. I screamed again, wishing there was a way I could push them both out of my head, but there was nothing to grab onto, nothing to push against. They were both everywhere at once, separate but nearly indistinguishable in the various shades of pain they caused.

When I was sure I could take no more, Danaus finally won the battle, ejecting Jabari from my thoughts. Unfortunately, there was too much energy flowing in my painfully tense frame. I couldn’t let it go. A ring of fire nearly twelve feet in diameter instantly burst into existence. The flames crackled for a second in bright yellow and orange before settling into a silent pale blue. No one had put the need to create fire in my brain, it just happened.

But the ring of eight-foot flames wasn’t all that ignited. Candlelight around the room flared, the little tongues of fire stretching and elongating until they seemed to take on a life of their own. Two of the flags burst into flames overhead, shoving aside more of the darkness that cowered in the room. One of the chairs that survived last night’s fight also burst into flames, crackling and popping with a growl that seemed to mimic the same anger burning through my soul. The flames were soothing despite the fact that Danaus skulked around in my brain as if he owned it, seeming to wait for Jabari to attack again.

Instead the attack came from above. I heard the near-silent flap of leathery wings only seconds before I was jerked backward. Danaus’s hand was pulled from my grip as he was lifted from his feet. Twisting from where I sat on the floor, I saw two of the harpies lift him into the air, their taloned feet digging into his broad shoulders. The closer he moved to the ceiling, the weaker his presence grew in my thoughts, allowing Jabari to muscle his way in again.

Desperate, I tried to throw up mental barriers, not caring who was being pushed out. With both hands planted on the floor in front of me, I gritted my teeth and pushed against anything I was sure wasn’t my own thought, but even that distinction was growing fuzzy. A snarl rippled up from my throat as I barely suppressed the urge to hurl fireballs at the harpies, but I couldn’t risk it. There was a good chance I would hit Danaus as well.

Mira… Jabari’s voice in my head was light and taunting as I kneeled on the floor. It wasn’t strong yet, but he had the power to wear me down.

Give me Nicolai and call off the harpies. My demand sounded ragged and breathless even to me as I shoved the thought back at Jabari, wishing I could make him choke on it.

Let them have their fun. I could easily envision the shrug of his narrow shoulders as he sent me that thought. There was laughter woven around every word that danced through my brain. Besides, don’t you think you’ve collected enough pets you cannot protect?

It dawned on me then that his thoughts were devoid of the anger or frustration he had shown just moments ago when we were speaking. Damn him! He had manipulated me. He knew I would come for Nicolai, but what was his goal? Danaus’s death? Mine? Or was he manipulating me into killing the naturi for him? I didn’t understand his game.

This deal with the naturi can’t be allowed, I told him.

Stealing Nicolai won’t stop it, he admitted

Will it help? I waited for his answer. After everything that had happened, I felt as if I was extending a desperate hand to him, begging for his help after he had manipulated me into this position in the first place. I hated what he could do to me, and I hated him more because I needed him.

They will fear you more, he finally said.

Overhead, a woman’s voice sliced through the silence in a heart-shattering scream. Another voice was raised in pain a second later, followed by the sound of ripping cloth. I looked up in time to see Danaus fall to the floor. He landed as lightly as a cat, his knife in hand, stained with black-looking blood. One of the flags fluttered to the ground behind him, torn from where he had grabbed it in an attempt to slow his fall.

If you fight with Danaus for control over me again, it will destroy what little is left of my mind and potentially my body. That cannot help your goal. I sent the thought lashing out at Jabari as Danaus approached. Hand over Nicolai and we will leave. I had only seconds to get Jabari to acquiesce. The ring of fire wouldn’t stop Danaus from returning to my side. If the hunter touched me again, I knew I wouldn’t survive it. My arms were trembling and my stomach felt as if it had been flipped inside out and dipped in acid.

We’re close.

I wanted to asked what he meant by that, but there wasn’t time. In truth, it didn’t matter if I understood. I was just the weapon, not the warrior.

“Enough!” Jabari roared, surging to his feet. What seemed like a child crying in pain was the only sound in the room. Apparently, Danaus had done some serious damage to one of the harpies. There was a brief scraping and clacking of claws on stone and then the crying grew softer and fainter.

I hesitantly lowered the flames so they were only a couple feet high and surrounded me more tightly, in a circle with a diameter of only a few feet. Danaus stopped a couple feet away from me outside the flames, his knife still in hand, as we waited to hear what Jabari had to say.

“Kill her, Jabari,” Macaire ordered. His arms shook from where he tightly held the arms of the chair, barely managing to keep his seat. A horrid green light glowed in his eyes, burrowing into me through the flickering flames.

A deep chuckle rumbled from Jabari and a cold smile slithered across his lean, hard features. I had seen that expression once before. The warm, compassionate veneer had been stripped away at the Themis Compound when he told me I was the weapon wielded by the triad to stop the naturi. At least this time his icy amusement was directed at Macaire and not at me.

“You’ve cried for her death since the second she was reborn.”

Jabari’s words slithered like a poisonous snake into my ears and through the cells of my brain, sending an uncontrollable shiver through my exhausted body. He had switched to our language; the first language spoken by nightwalkers, which was written in our very blood. There was no learning it. A vampire was reborn fluent and afraid. No one spoke it without a good reason. Jabari most likely had something to say he didn’t want the naturi to understand.

“If you wish her dead, you must dirty your hands, because I’m not through with her,” Jabari continued, gracefully sitting back down in his chair. “But remember last night’s bloodbath. She’s not without her own skills. And beside her stands an experienced hunter of our kind.”

“It sounds as if you are afraid to attack her,” Macaire taunted, also using the same language. It didn’t roll from his tongue with the same elegance, and I wondered if it was because he was afraid of me and Jabari.

“No.”

And that was all he had to say. Jabari could destroy me without raising a finger and we all knew it. There was no fear, no hesitance. He would kill me when he was done using me.

“But she means to take your pet from you,” Macaire said. There was no missing the desperation that colored each word. He wouldn’t be able to convince Jabari to do anything he didn’t want to do. If Macaire wanted me dead, he was going to have to do something about it himself.

“He was lost to me regardless of the outcome,” Jabari said with an indifferent shrug. He had sent Nicolai knowing I would either kill him or claim him. Damn Jabari. After living with me for roughly a century, he had come to know me far too well.

With a wave of his hand, one of the side doors slammed open, banging against the wall. Nicolai stepped into the room, his eyes quickly taking in all the players. The handsome werewolf was wary, but exhaustion was starting to take its toll on him. His copperish-brown eyes were underlined with dark shadows and there was a day’s growth of whiskers on his jaw and chin. He stood near the dais, not far from Jabari, struggling to stare blankly straight ahead. However, he could either sense or hear the harpies overhead, his eyes occasionally darting toward the dark shadows near the ceiling.

There was only the soft drip of blood leaking from one of the harpies as it hit the marble floor. Nicolai’s and Danaus’s heartbeats thundered in my head as I suddenly became aware of my growing hunger. My fight with Jabari and the other nightwalkers during the past two nights had pushed me too far and I needed to feed again.

Reluctantly, I doused the last of the flames, but remained kneeling on the floor, conserving the last of my energy should I need it to escape this nightmare.

“If you can protect him, you may have him,” Jabari conceded. There was no missing the condescension in his tone. I’d already failed to protect Tristan and he certainly didn’t believe I would be able to protect Nicolai when the Elder chose to attack him.

Pushing to my feet, I was surprised when I didn’t sway once I was standing again, despite the fact that my thoughts were coated in a thick layer of fog and pain and my body screamed at every movement. If there had been an ounce of blood left within my frame, it seemed I would have heaved it onto the floor. I wanted to curl into a little ball and pray for the dawn to wipe away my mind. Instead I squared my shoulders and nodded. We both knew that without rising from his chair, Jabari had beaten me because he had the ability to control me. I was getting Nicolai because it was what Jabari wanted, not because I had won.

He smiled widely at me, revealing a glimpse of white fangs, and motioned with a couple of fingers for Nicolai to walk over to me. The lycan’s eyes darted from the Elder to me in confusion and shock before taking a couple slow, hesitant steps toward me. My muscles tensed, waiting for one of the Coven to lurch forward and attack the werewolf, but none of the three even flinched. However, understanding finally dawned on the naturi that clung to the ceiling. There was a quick flap of damp, fleshy wings as they watched Nicolai stand near me.

“What is this, nightwalker?” exclaimed one of the harpies in melodious outrage.

“The lycan was not part of the original agreement,” Jabari said in a harsh voice that made me flinch.

“No!” The screech reverberated through the room as one of the harpies swooped down from the ceiling, her taloned feet extended to grab the werewolf up by the shoulders. Without hesitation, I launched a fireball at the attacking monster at the same time an invisible hand slammed into the creature, crushing it against the far wall. The harpy screamed and pushed off from the wall, returning to the relative safety of the shadows that huddled in the corners of the ceiling. I didn’t have to look up at the dais to know that Jabari had protected Nicolai. He hadn’t been sure I had the energy to do it after my scuffle with him.

Turning to look at a scratched and bloody Danaus, I bit out an order, “Get him out of here.” The hunter was smart enough not to argue with me. He knew I was running on empty. I couldn’t keep fighting off the harpies all night and still hold my own against the Coven. Danaus grabbed a stunned Nicolai by the shoulder and pulled him out the door, his eyes continuously moving from the dais to the ceiling, expecting another attack.

If anything, the fact that Danaus and I were walking out with Nicolai indicated that the Coven still needed us alive for whatever dark plan they had in mind. So far I had not stepped too far out of line. Furthermore, I had potentially completed a task that Jabari always meant for me to accomplish. Bastard. I would have preferred to find out what the Coven was planning with the naturi, but felt lucky to be walking out at all. There was still a little time left to discover the Elders’ plans.

My gaze returned to the dais and the Elders, who were each plotting my demise in their own special way, I was sure. Macaire was expressionless as he stared at me, but there was no hiding his white knuckles or tensed frame. He was less than pleased with both me and Jabari. Only at this point he wasn’t sure which of us would be easiest to kill. Besides, I was still willing to bet that he wanted to meet with me. Macaire was the type to mentally manipulate you; try to win you over with “logic” and lots of seductive promises. He wasn’t willing to get his hands dirty the same way Jabari was.

Elizabeth had been silent through this whole affair, which made me more nervous than when I considered Macaire. I could guess Macaire’s and Jabari’s motive, but I didn’t know whose side she was on or if she had her own goal. All in all, I had no doubt she would rather see me staked out in the sun than standing in the Great Hall again.

At last my gaze settled on Jabari, who was watching me with amusement dancing in his dark eyes. I bowed my head to him, no longer wishing to know his schemes that involved me and no little amount of pain. I was about to turn and stride out of the room when my eyes caught on the empty chair at Jabari’s right hand. Tabor’s chair. A seat on the Coven. But to be a member of the Coven would mean being Jabari’s puppet. At one time I would have followed the Elder’s wishes simply because I believed in him. Now I would do it because I had no choice.

My gaze stumbled back to Jabari, to find him grinning broadly at me, guessing my thoughts. He would welcome me onto the Coven with open arms, as it solidified his power over the other two members. I smiled back at him before turning on my left heel and stiffly leaving the Great Hall. My heart would be in the hunter’s hand before I took a seat on the Coven.