Dayhunter

EIGHT

Danaus tried to help me off the ground, but I jerked out of his grasp and less than gracefully pushed to my feet. I was livid with him and the Coven. Had he done the right thing? Had he saved our lives because I lacked the ability to control my temper? Had he pulled me away from whatever game Jabari was playing? Yes, but I was still angry. In the boat the night before I chose our joining, let him control me. But minutes ago he’d taken away my choices and forced me. I didn’t give a damn right now if it was for our own good.

I wanted to tear his throat out, to see him crumpled and bleeding at my feet. My body had been used and abused, first by my own brethren and now by my enemy. I felt dirty down to my very core. I had become a thing worse than chum. I couldn’t even fight my fate, only obey.

To twist the knife even further, I couldn’t lash out at Danaus. The Coven and its dedicated court were watching closely. If I were to strike out at him, any one of them might take it as a green light to have some fun, and I was too weak to fend them off. And I’d made a promise to get him out of Venice alive. For now, we were one big happy family.

Silently, our little group—Danaus, Sadira, and I—trooped out of the main hall and across the island back to the dock. The other nightwalkers kept their distance, but were closely watching our progress. I had no doubt they’d sensed my display of power. I was sure that creatures all over Italy had felt it. You don’t create waves like that and not draw attention.

“Out of the boat,” I snapped at Roberto, who stood behind the wheel. He frowned at me but said nothing as he stepped on the docks. We jumped on the little speed boat and I threw it into reverse. I had some business to take care of and I didn’t want to have a nightwalker following me. The Coven would give me a little space for now. I had a bit of interesting information, but it wasn’t going to do me much good at the moment. No one would believe me if I said the Coven was plotting something with the naturi. Not only was it ridiculous, but it would also be coming from a nightwalker traveling with a vampire hunter.

“What’s going on?” Sadira softly asked when we were halfway across the Lagoon.

“I don’t know yet,” I said, refusing to look at her. I directed the boat down the Guidecca Canal, narrowly dodging a shuttle bus as it trudged across the narrow waterway, sending up a spray of water on some of the passengers. The driver’s curses barely rose above the rumble of the boat’s engine. “But I’ll know before we leave here.”

“There was a naturi, Mira!” Sadira said, her voice jumping in pitch. The sight of the naturi had left her shaken, crushing the last of her composure. “A naturi in the Great Hall!”

“I noticed.” I shifted the boat into neutral and let it glide into the hotel landing. I looked up at the large, elegant Hotel Cipriani. Tristan was pacing in front of the windows, waiting for our return. No one had bothered him, but that had not lessened his anxiety. Since marking him, his thoughts came clearly to me when I wanted them. I would have known instantly if a vampire had laid a hand on him. But it also worked in reverse. He could feel my own concerns and anxiety, though my exact thoughts were shrouded.

“Go up to the suite and calm Tristan,” I ordered, gripping the steering wheel. I needed to be away from her. I needed some space from Sadira, the Coven, and this whole damned situation so I could think clearly. “But do not harm him in any way. You know that none of this is his fault. It’s between you and me.”

“And what are your plans for him?” she inquired from her seat, her voice hardening to rusty steel. After our encounter in the room and with the Coven, she had once again grown wary of me. During our last years together, Sadira had been a constant shadow in my brain, fearing my powers. The fear had left her a hollow shell, resulting in the death of many of her other pets.

I spun on my heels, my fists clenched as I looked down at her. A loose tendril of hair fell against my cheek, tickling my neck. “I have no plans for him! I don’t want him. He’s your pet, and you should have taken care of him. You know they would have torn him apart tonight.”

“He has to learn to protect himself,” she said in such a matter-of-fact tone that I longed to smack her. “You were younger than he when you first appeared before the court.”

“I was also ten times stronger, and even then I barely survived.” I took another step closer to her, clenching my fists so tight my nails began to cut into the palms of my hands. “You only let him go because you are too much of a coward to stand up to the court.”

“How dare you call me a coward after I stood with you before the Elders!” she said, surging to her feet. Her sudden movement caused the little boat to rock and lurch in the water.

“You stood with me because you were confident that I would protect you. That is beginning to wear thin.”

She smiled back at me, her usual beatific smile of peace and supreme confidence. “I’m your mother, my Mira. You will always protect me.”

“Get out of here,” I growled, pulling back my lips to expose my fangs. Her smile never wavered as she alighted from the boat and walked gracefully up the landing into the hotel. She sacrificed Tristan to save her own skin, and she knew that I would step forward and protect both of them from the Coven. I wanted to scream. My decisions weren’t wrong. I needed the triad intact, which meant protecting Sadira, though I longed to rip her throat out. It was insane to fight her, because winning would be finally killing her, and I couldn’t.

Jerking the boat into reverse, I backed it into the waterway again. Shifting roughly into first, I headed to the Grand Canal. It was a short trip, but I wasn’t in the mood to bother with water taxis or shuttles. I docked in an opening on the island of Dorsoduro, almost directly across from Piazza San Marco.

Danaus jumped to the ground right behind me as I secured the boat. I almost forgot he was there, having become so accustomed to having the dark rain cloud on my heels. Of course, I was also a little preoccupied with thoughts of the Coven and their special guest.

“Mira—”

“Don’t talk to me yet, I’m still angry with you,” I bit out as we walked down the winding streets, slipping past the locals on their way to the bars and restaurants for a few drinks and light conversation.

“You left me with no choice.” His deep voice slipped around me like a pair of strong arms.

“You could have let me kill them.”

“Could you?”

I didn’t say anything, but marched down the street, my teeth clenched. I didn’t know. Maybe, but it was doubtful. The past few days had been strange, and I wasn’t sure what I was capable of anymore. Of course, we could have most likely destroyed them, but he had hesitated. Last night when we were alone on the boat, I knew he thought about killing every nightwalker on the island. But today when we stood before the Coven, the opportunity spread out before us, and he stopped.

“That’s what I thought,” Danaus said grimly.

“You don’t understand!” I shouted, whirling around to face him. “I’ve worked all my life to not have to answer to another creature—human or vampire. And then one night I wake up and find I’m wearing a choke chain and an untold number of people have the ability to jerk me to heel.” I stepped closer, until he was backed against one of the buildings lining the sidewalk, and rose up on the tips of my toes so I could look him in the eyes. “To make matters worse, my enemy can do the same. I’ve become a threat to every thing on this planet. Do you have any clue as to what that feels like?”

We stared at each other in silence for several seconds. His face was unreadable, but I could feel the turmoil in his chest. Our connection was still strong from that night’s brief contact. I could feel sadness, but it was cluttered with something else. I couldn’t tell if it was sympathy, regret, or maybe even pity. For a second I was afraid we had more in common than I wanted there to be. He seemed to understand too well.

I softly growled in the back of my throat as I turned away from him. The sound was a strange mix of anger and frustration. It wasn’t all his fault, no matter how hard I tried to pin it on him. Danaus just kept getting in the way. “You owe me,” I muttered as I walked down the street.

“What?”

“I haven’t decided yet. You owe me something. I’ll get back to you.”

“I’m on pins and needles,” he said in a voice so dry I expected to see a puff of dust. I smiled despite my struggles to remain angry at him. It was becoming annoying that he could snap me out of my grim moods. Of course, dark ruminations were more of his forte than mine.

“That can be arranged,” I said irritably, but he knew better. If I could sense his emotions, then he knew I was no longer angry. Frustrated and irritated, but not necessarily pissed.