Fifteen

Danaus was near me. It was the first thing I thought of when consciousness slipped back into my brain. He was in the same room, somewhere close. I moved my left hand, feeling for the side of the coffin so I could unlock it, but instead my hand came in contact with a thick velvet cover. My eyes snapped open, a snarl lunging forward behind clenched teeth. I was lying on a large bed in a luxurious bedroom, with dark, heavy furniture and thick curtains pulled across the pair of windows on the wall to my left. I sat up, my fists grasping the wine-colored comforter. Danaus sat in a chair set against the door, his arms folded over his chest. He was staring at me; his intent gaze taking in my expression, the movement of my muscles beneath pale skin. Wrapped in his blanket of power, he sat there like some reluctant guardian.

“Why was I taken out of my box?” I was as angry with myself as I was at my companions. I had fallen asleep with the lid open, so it hadn’t been locked from the inside. But I had been moved. Someone had touched me while I slept. A cold chill of fear gripped my frame in a tight fist. No one saw me during the daylight hours; not servants or guardians. The complete vulnerability during that long stretch of time was the only thing I loathed about being a nightwalker.

“Michael said you don’t sleep in a coffin when you are home,” Danaus said. “He also said you were screaming when you awoke last night.”

“It was a nightmare.” My eyes darted back to the subdued pattern on the comforter. I’d had a blissfully empty day this time, but I could clearly recall the nightmare from the previous day. Pushing the thought aside, I looked back up at Danaus. “Who moved me?”

“I did,” he said, holding my gaze.

“Why?”

“I wanted to see you sleep.” His eyes never wavered from my face. There was a strange intensity to him that set me ill at ease. “You never moved. You’re just a corpse.” His eyes seemed to harden as he spoke but he sounded confused. It was as if he couldn’t reconcile the fact that moments ago I was cold and stiff and now I was sitting in bed talking to him. “Can you awaken during the day?”

“Not yet. Someday, maybe. The Ancients sleep less, but we all lay down when the sun rises in the morning. Vampires are remnants of an old war,” I explained. This line of questions was unexpected.

“What war?”

“The eternal battle between the sun and moon.”

Danaus nodded and rose from his chair, which he pulled to one side. “I don’t harm creatures while they are defenseless.”

“A hunter with honor.”

“One of the few. The meeting is in an hour,” he announced, then left the room. I stared at the closed door, feeling him moving about the hotel room. He was uneasy as well, some part of him simmering. I couldn’t read his thoughts, but I could pick up on his emotions. So much anger and turmoil stewed in his chest. He also had questions with no answers, and I was at their center. He had spent years of his life killing my kind, but I think he was beginning to question his choices. Maybe a part of him was starting to see we weren’t all mindless killers, and it bothered him.

Grinning, I sauntered into the pale yellow bathroom off the bedroom and turned on the shower. I might be able to use this to my advantage. I wasn’t sure how, but it was an interesting development. Hell, at that point I was happy to have anything resembling useful information.

Scrubbing off the layers of blood and soot, I hummed an inane little tune to myself, glad to finally be free of the last remnants of naturi. After blow-drying my hair, I pulled on a pair of black leather pants and a long-sleeve silk shirt. This one was a brilliant blue, nearly matching the shade of Danaus’s eyes. It would establish a subtle tie between us. I wasn’t confident my new friend from Themis would pick up on it, but I had plans for this evening. As a finishing touch, I added a pair of rectangular sunglasses with blue lenses. I turned in front of the large mirror, taking in my appearance. A warm meal, a good day’s sleep, and a hot shower had left me feeling upbeat. I could finally see an end to this winding road. After my brief meeting with this Themis character, I would locate Sadira and find a replacement for Tabor. When that was done, I was headed home and the Coven was on its own. I was back in control of my life and it felt good.

My intrepid companion didn’t give me a second glance as we left the hotel and climbed into a taxi. We were silent as the little car swept us across the city to Mayfair. My trips to London had been infrequent over the years, but I’d been here often enough to recognize the various boroughs regardless of what century it was. And for as long as I’d known, Mayfair was the posh center of the universe for the monied elite. Alighting from the cab, I paused and looked up at the beautiful brick town house with its flower boxes overflowing with blooms. This was not what I had expected. I thought we would find ourselves in a seedy part of town, the back room of some disreputable bar or grimy warehouse with its family of oversized rats.

Directly across from us was Grosvenor Square, with its old trees reaching up at the night sky. The landscape was dotted with old brick facades and black iron fences, keeping the common rabble at bay. Matching black lamps stood at the corners, attempting to beat back the fog that had already begun to roll in from the Thames as the temperature dropped for the night.

The city felt vastly different from Savannah. Old Europe was quieter, more subdued, as if its dark history demanded that a hushed silence be observed in the dark hours of the night if you were out on the street. As if, otherwise, any one of the ancient myths of the fey or even my own kind might creep out from the shadows and strike. Europe held onto her old tales and superstitions longer, weaving them into the histories they had witnessed as if they were truths as well. The New World proved to be vastly different, with her shorter memory and fast-paced lifestyle that wouldn’t slow down for anyone, not even an old ghost story like a vampire.

Shrugging, I followed Danaus up the front stairs and into the house, trying to ignore the way the air seemed to tingle around me. Too much magic in the air, too much old magic in this hallowed isle.

I noticed that he didn’t bother to knock, but walked into the foyer. Without pause, he continued down the hall to a door on the left of the stairs that led to the second floor. He had been here before.

The building was the typical English town house, with shining hardwood floors and Oriental rugs. The paintings on the walls were of hunting scenes and wild gardens set up against dark woods. There were no photographs of family and friends. I reached out and found only one other person in the house; a man, extremely nervous. I couldn’t stop the smile that lifted my lips, leaving the tips of my fangs poking out just below. Danaus paused with his hand on the brass-handled double doors and looked back at me. He felt the slight sweep of power as I searched the house, and frowned. I like to think he knew better than to ask me to behave.

Pushing open the two doors, we stepped into a brightly lit library. The man sitting behind the desk jumped at the sound of the doors opening but quickly covered it up by rising to his feet. He was wearing a dark brown suit with a creamy white shirt and brown patterned tie. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses was perched on his sharp, straight nose.

I laughed. I laughed so hard and deep that I leaned forward on Danaus’s shoulder, my hand pressed to my stomach. This was not what I had expected. My experience with Themis was Danaus and hunters like him. I had naturally assumed this was a trained group of assassins; cold, hardened mercenaries. The confused man standing behind the large desk looked like a librarian. Still laughing, I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He sucked in a harsh breath as the power layered beneath the laughter brushed against him like a cat wanting affection. Interesting. He shouldn’t have been able to feel that unless he had some experience with magic.

Then I stopped laughing. It was like I flipped a switch. One moment my laughter filled the room, and then it was gone. There was no gentle ebbing of the sound, just complete silence, except for the man’s harsh breathing. I glanced at Danaus. No frowns. No glares. No unspoken warnings. In fact, his face was completely expressionless. I almost started laughing again. In his own way, he had given me the green light to have some fun. He, of course, would try to rein me in if I went too far, but until we reached that point, I had carte blanche.

“Enough games,” I announced with a weary air, still leaning on Danaus. “I’ve had my laugh, but we don’t have time for this. Where is the contact from Themis?”

“I–I am from Themis,” the man, still standing, stammered, lifting his chin a little higher into the air.

“I don’t want to talk to its accountant.”

“I am a full-fledged member of Themis and have been for almost ten years.” His voice gained strength as anger crowded his words. His brown eyes flicked to Danaus for half a breath before jumping back to me, as if urging the hunter to speak up.

“Really?” My gaze swept over the room. The library was a nice large room, with floor-to-ceiling dark wood shelves running the length of two of the walls. Floor lamps with beaded fringe shades stood guarding the four corners, beating back the darkness to its hiding place behind the sofa and under the large desk at the opposite end of the room. What little could be seen of the walls revealed a deep hunter green that was also in the Persian rugs that covered the hardwood floor.

I stepped around Danaus and approached the desk. Behind me, I heard the hunter step out of the line of fire to the plaid-patterned sofa that rested near the back wall.

The librarian tensed, but he didn’t back up, as I strolled closer. “In what capacity do you serve Themis?”

“I’m a researcher, like most members of Themis.”

“Most?” I turned sideways so I could look at Danaus, who was watching me. “What about Danaus? It was my impression that you were all like him.”

“Oh, no,” he said. He shook his head as a condescending smile lifted his thin lips. “Danaus is part of a small group of enforcers within Themis.”

“Don’t you mean trained murderers?” I corrected, my words cracking across his chest like a whip. This time he flinched. He tried to take a step backward, but ended up falling back into his chair. He paled and struggled to form words. His eyes darted over to Danaus as if seeking protection, but his enforcer never moved.

“We have to protect ourselves,” the librarian said at last.

“You’ve had creatures killed that were no threat to you,” I said evenly. I paused beside one of the pair of chairs positioned in front of his desk, my hand resting on the back.

“You’ve killed humans!” he said.

“Humans kill other humans every day in order to survive.” I shrugged my slim shoulders as I strolled closer, my hand slipping off the chair.

“But you feed on us.”

A smile flitted across my lips as images of Michael danced through my thoughts for a moment. “Only those who permit me.”

“But—”

“In two days, she’s fed at least twice.” Danaus’s presence and his deep voice almost cast a shadow over the room; a part of me wanted to step back into that bit of darkness. “No one has died.”

“That’s impossible!” the man said, jumping to his feet and slamming his palms on the empty surface of the desk. His eyes were wide and glittering in the bright light. “You just haven’t seen the bodies. It has been well documented that vampires must kill their prey to sustain their existence. It’s not really the blood they survive on, but the death that gives them power.”

I laughed again, shaking my head. He sounded like he was quoting from a textbook. “How long have you studied my kind?” I inquired, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.

“Themis has watched vampires for almost three centuries.”

“And how many have you spoken to?”

“Personally? None.” His voice lost some of its confidence and he sat back down again, seemingly shaken. His brows were gathered over his nose and his lips were pressed into a thin frown. “Until now.”

“What about the others?”

“We don’t talk to vampires. It’s…too dangerous. You…kill,” he said, struggling to find the words.

Smiling again, I paced around the desk until I was standing behind his chair. He twisted around so he was looking at me. Folding my hands on the back of his chair, I rested my chin on my hands. His fear was so thick and heavy I could taste it. My eyelids drifted closed and I drew in a deep breath, letting his fear swirl around me like an expensive perfume.

“So, you’ve decided to slaughter my kind based on myths and false information.”

“But—But you kill,” he said, as if it was the answer to everything.

“So do you,” I whispered, staring deep into his eyes before I continued the circuit around to the front of the desk. Walking over to Danaus, I removed my sunglasses and hooked them over the top button of my blouse. I could feel the librarian relax in his chair as I moved away from him. Putting my right knee on the sofa next to Danaus’s left hip, I sat down beside him, throwing my left leg across his lap. His hands remained limp at his side. He didn’t touch me, but, more important, he didn’t push me off away either. I leaned close, putting my left arm across his chest, resting my hand on his shoulder. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see the other man watching us closely, his forehead furrowed with a look of absolute confusion and shock.

Luckily for me, Danaus had bathed and changed into a clean set of clothes. He had rid himself of the smell of the naturi, reminding me again of a warm summer breeze dancing across the whitecaps in the Mediterranean. His chin and cheeks were free of dark stubble and he looked as if he’d actually caught a few hours of sleep.

I leaned in so my lips lightly brushed Danaus’s ear. His muscles tensed. “Does Themis know what you can do?” I whispered. His powers flared around me in response to some emotion I couldn’t quite place. I don’t think it was the question that bothered him, but some deeper thought. I could understand that. We all had something to hide.

“No.”

“So I thought,” I murmured. I started to lift my left leg from his lap when Danaus grabbed my calf with his right hand, holding me in place. His touch was warmer than I’d expected, almost burning through my leather pants. Shocked by his sudden willingness to touch me, I went completely still.

Turning his head to look at me, my lips brushed his cheek and we both froze. Danaus exhaled slowly and I found myself drawing in his breath, holding it inside me. If one of us moved less than an inch, our lips would meet. But we sat like two stone statues.

“Jabari?” he finally asked, his whispered question deep and husky.

I stared at the hunter’s chiseled profile, nearly drowning in his deep sapphire eyes. I hadn’t told Jabari. It hadn’t even occurred to me to tell the Ancient. Of course, if I had, Danaus would not have left Aswan alive. Why hadn’t I told Jabari? If he didn’t kill me over the whole Nerian fiasco, my existence was definitely forfeit for this little oversight.

Why didn’t I tell him? Was it because I didn’t like to share? Jabari would kill Danaus and that would be the end of it. He wouldn’t appreciate the challenge the hunter represented. Or was it that Danaus was like me, an outcast among his own kind? Of course, I didn’t know what he was, so that line of logic was a dead end.

“No,” I said, unable to keep from coating that single word with my obvious surprise.

Danaus arched one dark brow at me, mocking one of my favorite expressions. Yeah. I was just full of surprises.

“Lilacs,” he suddenly said. When my only reply was confused silence, he continued. “You smell like lilacs. No matter what you’ve been doing, you smell like lilacs.”

Moving my head slightly, I brushed my lips across his chin. Every fiber of my being was screaming for a kiss, just a taste of his lips and his mouth. My hand tightened on his shoulder and I pressed my body a little closer. “Like you smell of the sun and sea?”

“Yes.” His hand squeezed my calf again, but it wasn’t a warning. His strong fingers kneaded the muscle in a deep massage, keeping me pressed tightly against him.

“Is that a bad thing?” My lips rose, skimming across his jaw to the corner of his mouth.

“No. Just…unexpected.” With the speed of a glacier, Danaus turned his parted lips toward mine, his hot breath caressing my face.

A pen clattered to the hardwood floor, jerking us apart. We had forgotten about the gawking librarian. My head swung to the man behind the desk, a low growl escaping me. Danaus tightened his grip on my leg while his other arm wrapped around my waist, holding me in place.

“Let me throw him out the window,” I said in a low voice.

“Mira…”

My eyes jerked back to his face, searching his gaze for any sign of frustration. I couldn’t see it in his eyes, but the evidence pressed against my thigh, which was still draped over his lap. “I’ll be gentle.”

“With me or him?” I don’t think he meant to say it out loud because his eyes widened with surprise. I leaned in to finish the kiss that had been rudely interrupted when he said, “The naturi.” The only two words that could instantly kill my libido.

My head fell forward and I rested my forehead against his shoulder. “Bastard,” I muttered softly. Danaus rubbed his hand up and down my back once, as if trying to soften the blow. Now was not the time.

I turned my gaze back to our spectator behind the desk, my cheek grazing Danaus’s jaw. The librarian shifted in his chair, attempting to square his shoulders. I slid my hand back across Danaus’s chest as I rose from the sofa as if pulled by marionette strings.

“What are you called?” I asked, strolling back over to the desk.

“James Parker.”

“I am Mira.” Taking one of the seats in front of his desk, I put my right heel on the edge of his desk and crossed my other foot over it at the ankle. He frowned at my feet.

“The Fire Starter,” he said, dragging his eyes from my boots. His long, nimble fingers snatched up a fountain pen that had rolled off the ink blotter.

“Perhaps not all your information is bad, after all. Your group seems to be relatively well informed about the naturi—tell me what you know.”

“About the naturi?”

“Start with your opinion of them,” I commanded, inspecting my fingernails.

“Well, they are nothing like the fairy tales that are based on their race; all that nonsense about elves and fairies,” he began. Withdrawing a small square of cloth from this pocket, James removed his glasses and started to clean them. I had a feeling that this was more of a nervous habit than any actual need to remove dirt. “They are cold, ruthless, and view humans as a plague on the earth. Their power lies with the sun and the earth. We have evidence that says the naturi are the reason for several lost civilizations through time, up until about five hundred years ago.”

“What happened five hundred years ago?” I tried to keep my voice bland and uninterested, but my eyes flicked back up to his face. His hands stilled for a moment as his brown eyes met my deep violet orbs.

James licked his lips and drew in a deep breath before speaking again. “Our information is sketchy at best, but I was under the impression that you were there,” he replied. “I was hoping you would be able to tell me.”

“I want to hear what you know first,” I hedged, smiling wide enough to reveal my fangs.

“Not much.” His hands started to work over the glasses again. “We interviewed some Incan descendants a long time ago. It’s all legend and myth now. They said children of their sun god came down to Machu Picchu one day. They were holding captive a daughter of the moon god. The people of the sun were preparing to sacrifice several of the Incans in the Sacred Plaza when more than a score of the children of the moon god arrived, and freed the captured moon daughter. The Incan descendents mentioned a great battle.

“We’ve not been able to make that much sense out of it. It was obviously a battle between vampires and the naturi. After that night, the door between the naturi world and this one was closed, defeating the naturi. I was hoping that you would be able to tell me more.” James inched forward a little to sit on the edge of his chair, glasses forgotten in his hands.

“I can’t.” And it was the truth. I couldn’t tell him because I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t remember any of the other nightwalkers at Machu Picchu. I knew others had been there; the greatest gathering I had ever seen, but even now I couldn’t recall a single face beyond the triad: Jabari, Sadira, and Tabor. “The naturi were never defeated.” Putting my booted feet back on the floor, I restlessly pushed out of the chair and paced over to one of the bookcases that lined the wall. “The queen of the naturi still lives. The final battle was simply postponed.”

My eyes flitted over the various leather-bound volumes, reading the titles. They were all books on the occult. Books on vampires, lycanthropes, magic, and obscure bits of history lined these shelves. It would have taken a lifetime to accumulate this extensive a collection. I glanced over at James for a moment, taking in his clean-shaven face and eager eyes. He looked like he might be in his late twenties, early thirties at the absolute latest. This either wasn’t his house or this was a family occupation. Curious.

“But you will find her in time?” he asked, rising from his seat again.

I turned back to the shelf and pulled down a large volume on nightwalkers. I opened it in the middle and let my eyes scan over the page. With an angry growl, I pitched the book over my shoulder and picked up another.

“Stop!” James said before he could stop himself. “That one’s rare.”

Ignoring him, I opened another book on vampires. I tossed this one aside before reaching the bottom of the page. Overriding his fear, James came around the desk to my side as I was grabbing a third book. I dropped it over my shoulder, but he caught this one.

Turning, I grabbed his jacket lapels as he cringed. Behind me, Danaus’s powers brushed against me, warning me. “Is this what you have been reading about us? Has all of your kind been soaking in these lies?”

“They can’t be. These journals were written by people who have survived encounters with vampires,” he said. “You can’t deny that you kill; you treat us like cattle.”

“You paint us as mindless killers, monsters in the darkness.” I released him suddenly as if he were something dirty. “Humans are remembered for more than the wars they wage and the lives they take. We create things of beauty as well.” I took a step closer to James. He inched backward but was stopped when his back hit the bookshelf. I smiled at him, careful not to reveal my fangs. Lifting my hand, I held it barely an inch from his face. He flinched, his wide eyes darting between my face and hand. Lowering my hand with infinite care, I drew my fingers across his forehead to his temple and into his hair. “We feel pain and joy. We feel sadness and love just like you,” I whispered, my voice like a caress. “We can give and take exquisite pleasure.”

“E-Even with humans?” he asked, stumbling over the words.

I chuckled, pulling my hand back to my side. “Some of my favorite lovers have been human males. You’re very…attentive.”

Turning, I walked away to the other side of the room. As I passed Danaus, I shoved my hands into my back pockets and winked at him. He looked back at James’s desk, but I caught the slight quirk of one corner of his mouth. He knew the game I was playing, and at the moment, after the questionable information they had supplied him with, he was not pleased with Themis.

“But there is one thing I am confused about.” I turned back. “Despite all the horrible things you believe about my kind, Danaus was sent to find me. I don’t think he was sent to acquire my assistance, just information. Why?”

“If the stories are to be believed, vampires stopped the naturi once. I thought you could do it again,” James said, still clutching the book to his chest.

“I? Not we?”

“Some of the others…did not see the wisdom in this idea.”

“And do they know about this meeting?”

He looked at Danaus, then back to me. “No.” His grip on the book pressed to his chest tightened, as if it could protect him from the wrath of his superiors.

“You are a brave one. Of course, you do have Danaus here to protect you from me, but I have a feeling your little friends aren’t going to be too happy about this. Interesting.”

“What are you planning?” Anxiety spiked his voice.

I strolled back over to the chair I’d been sitting in and plopped down, propping my feet up on the edge of this desk. “Nothing at the moment. It’s just interesting information. Do you have anything else interesting to tell me?”

“A-About what?” he said, walking back over to his chair behind the desk. He sat down and reluctantly laid the book down on the surface.

“About the naturi.”

Pulling open one of the drawers to his right, he withdrew a manila folder and handed me what looked like a thin stack of photographs. I had to force myself to reach for it. The last photograph I’d been handed had sent me on this fool’s errand. Gritting my teeth, I took the glossy pictures and nearly screamed in frustration when I saw more naturi symbols, each smeared in blood.

I lurched to my feet, struggling to keep from igniting the picture in my hands. “When?” I heard Danaus stand and walk over, his heavy steps echoing off the hardwood floor. I handed him the pictures, my eyes never leaving James’s pale face.

“They’ve started appearing during the past couple of days.”

“Where?” I needed him to confirm my suspicion.

“I—I’m not completely sure. I think one was in Spain,” he said, running a nervous hand over his tie.

“The Alhambra,” I confirmed. “Where else?”

“Another was in Cambodia.”

“At Angkor Wat.” I grabbed the pictures out of Danaus’s hands and laid them out across the top of James’s desk. “There are six pictures here. We have Angkor Wat and Alhambra.” I put the two that I was sure had been identified aside. I knew these places. Jabari had drilled them into my head. I picked up another with rose-colored stone and added it to the pile with Angkor and Alhambra. “That’s Petra and this is the Palace of Knossos on Crete.” I added the fourth picture to the pile, flipping it over and laying it down with a slap. I’d known that place before Jabari. I’d been born in Crete.

“Oh, I remember this one.” James picked up a picture of a plain dark brown sign set against a backdrop of trees. “They said it was on the back of a sign in Yellowstone National Park.”

“And the last one?” Danaus asked, picking it up.

“Mesa Verde, Colorado.” I recognized the stonework. Turning my gaze back to James, I fought back a knot of panic that was starting to twist in my stomach. “What about the other five sites? Have your people checked them?”

“Other five?”

“The holy cities of the naturi. I assumed you were checking those.” I turned my gaze on Danaus, clenching my teeth. “You said your people were watching potential sites for the sacrifices. Did you lie?”

“We are watching them,” he snapped, taking a step toward me.

“All twelve?”

“Twelve?” He looked genuinely puzzled for a moment. “There has to be more than twelve. We’re watching all the ancient temples and structures that have been linked to ancient myths.”

I shoved both of my hands through my hair, swallowing a scream of frustration. I knew I should have asked for more clarification sooner. He seemed to know so much when we met that I assumed he knew all about naturi history. I was wrong, and it might just cost us.

Drawing in a deep breath, I turned back to the desk and picked up the pictures. “A quick lesson on the naturi,” I said, then looked up at James. “You might want to take some notes.”

The Themis member immediately plopped back down in his chair and pulled out some paper and a pen.

“There are twelve so-called holy sites for the naturi spread around the world, based on the energy that culminates in the area. In North America, there is Old Faithful and Mesa Verde. In South America, it’s Easter Island and Machu Picchu. In Europe, we have Stonehenge, Alhambra, and the Palace of Knossos. In Africa, there’s Petra, Dead Vlei, and Abu Simbel. And in Asia, there’s Konark and Angkor Wat.”

Danaus shook his head, frowning. “That doesn’t make any sense. Some of these places aren’t that old, and Abu Simbel has even been moved from its original location. The naturi are older than all of those structures.”

“It’s not the structure that makes a place holy to them, it’s the power emanating from the earth in an area that makes it special.” I grabbed the pictures again and spread them out across the desktop. “Humans have created amazing structures at these locations. Why? Because they are drawn to these places. Some part of their brain senses something, even if they can’t recognize it.”

“Abu Simbel was moved.”

“Only two hundred meters. It’s still close enough to the original location, which is now underwater and only of use to the water naturi.”

“What about the marks in the trees,” James said, his head snapping up from the paper where he was furiously scribbling notes. “They weren’t anywhere near these locations.”

I shook my head, nibbling on my lower lip. I was getting into shaky territory. Nowhere in the histories I’d read of the naturi did I encounter tales of them making marks in the trees like the ones I’d seen. “Those feel different than the ones at the holy sites. More permanent, but I have no idea what they are for.”

Danaus leaned his hip against the edge of the desk and folded his arms over his chest. “And the blood marks?”

“They weren’t made from human blood,” James interjected before looking back down at his notes. “We had it tested. It was all animal blood.”

My gaze drifted back down to the pictures. “They’re testing sites,” I murmured.

“What do you mean?”

A half smile lifted one corner of my mouth. “It’s old magic. You’d think you would know a little old magic, Danaus,” I teased. “The next sacrifice is to break the seal, and they will need as much power they can get. With Aurora stuck in the other world, they’ll need to draw as much power as possible from the earth. To do so, they have to locate the site that has the best charge. So, the naturi are testing sites with minor spells, looking for the best location.”

“But Danaus said there would be a total of three sacrifices,” James said, his brows meeting over the bridge of his nose.

“There will be if we don’t stop them. The first was sort of priming the pump, pulling the power up from the earth. The second will break the seal, and the third will open the door.”

“And you don’t think they will use any of the sites that had the marks?”

“No, they would have covered their tracks. Cleaned off the blood and immediately ended the spell. Konark has been used and the other six marked.”

“So, there are just five possibilities: Stonehenge, Machu Picchu, Dead Vlei, Abu Simbel, and Easter Island,” James read off his list.

“Contact Themis,” Danaus ordered. “Get people to those locations now.”

The hunter then turned his grim eyes intent on my face. All lightness and entertainment for the evening had been sucked from the room.

I sighed. “We have to find Sadira now.” We couldn’t sit by and hope that Jabari located Rowe. We were nearly out of time. If the naturi were actively searching for another site, it meant that they were likely to complete the next sacrifice soon. But it didn’t make any sense. The next new moon was nearly a week away. I had a dark suspicion when they planned to strike, but I needed to confirm it, which meant I needed Sadira.

“Wait!” James said, hurrying around his desk. “I can help.”

I paused at the door, my hand resting on the doorjamb. “Go back to Themis, James Parker. Go back and warn them.” My voice suddenly sounded very tired. I pitied this young man who had devoted his life to studying the things that crept by in the shadows. That was one of the greatest differences between the naturi and nightwalkers. Unlike the naturi, we could feel pity on occasion.

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