Pray for Dawn

TWENTY-ONE

I hesitated in the entrance to the Dark Room, my eyes growing accustomed to the low lighting. One thought kept repeating in my head: I shouldn’t be here. The floor was black marble, too closely resembling the throne-room floor of the coven’s headquarters in Venice. The small antechamber was lit overhead by a single lamp that cast down a red glow, while coat-check rooms rested on my left and right.

Mira led the way into the nightclub for the damned, a sway in her hips as if she was already moving to the beat of the music that was throbbing from the main room. We paused on the threshold, our eyes slipping over the gathered crowd. I could sense a somber apprehension emanating from Mira, though it never outwardly showed. I, on the other hand, was fighting back a growing sense of dread. A quick count revealed that more than two dozen nightwalkers filled the club, accompanied by almost as many human companions. A small knot of lycanthropes was clustered at the bar off to my left, trying to maintain a distance from the nightwalkers while still claiming their right to be there.

Why am I here? I sent the thought winging into her brain, not wishing to be overhead by any other vampire.

We’re conducting an investigation. Gregor will provide us with more information about Abigail, she replied, but there was no missing the mocking in her tone.

This meeting could have been held anywhere but here.

Mira simply looked over her shoulder at me, arching one fine red eyebrow.

First Communion, the formal introduction to Barrett, and now the Dark Room. I’m no idiot—What are you up to? I demanded.

Mira’s smile widened as the fingers of her left hand slipped through the fingers of my right hand, allowing her to pull me a few steps into the club. Her touch was cool, while the scent of lilacs wafted to my nose. How else will be you ever understand my world unless you’re a part of it?

I’m not a part of your world, I mentally snapped, but her smile only grew before she turned to look straight ahead again.

It’s a little late for that.

Before I could come up with a reply, Mira released my hand and roughly grabbed the shoulder of a nightwalker who was trying to edge past her.

“Has Knox been here tonight?” she demanded.

“Came and left about an hour ago,” the nightwalker replied, his dark brown gaze jumping back and forth between me and Mira.

With a nod, Mira released the nightwalker. I would have preferred to have Knox and his calming presence at the Dark Room while I was present. I had encountered Mira’s second-in-command only a handful of times, but he seemed to be very rational and levelheaded, something that would be appreciated right now.

Since my arrival, the tension had increased in the crowded nightclub. Many of the nightwalkers had moved from the dance floor to the shadowy confines of the booths that lined the right and back walls of the large room. Only human whispers could be heard as an undercurrent to the hypnotic music that filled the air. The nightwalkers had slipped into telepathic communication for a more private conversation about the nightwalker hunter in their midst.

Should we wait for Knox to return? I telepathically inquired. I wanted this meeting to go as smoothly as possible and Knox would help greatly toward that end.

He’s gone with Amanda to meet with Abigail Bradford’s parents, Mira explained. He’s helping to deliver the bad news of the animal attack and hopefully quiet the press circus.

In other words, Mira’s trusted second-in-command had been sent with Amanda to tweak the memory of the senator and his wife, making both more pliable and agreeable. The investigation would continue on, but the dangerous human element would be removed for now. It had been a close call and we could only hope that the press would back off. I wasn’t banking on everyone believing the nonsense that Abigail Bradford had been attacked by a dog, but it was the only plausible answer that didn’t include vampires, lycanthropes, naturi, or the bori.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said under my breath, trying not to worry about how many nightwalkers actually heard me.

“Agreed,” Mira said, beginning to sound a little worried herself.

I followed Mira as she wove her way through the maze of tables to the back corner of the club. I could feel dozens of eyes watching my steady progress through the room. Nobody moved, the clubgoers becoming pale statues in the dim light.

The corner booth was larger than the rest, allowing six nightwalkers and humans to lounge in comfort, partially obscured by a dark red curtain that hung on the sides of the entrance to the booth. In the back corner sat a nightwalker in classical Victorian garb, with his ornately embroidered waistcoat over a pristine white shirt and neckcloth. His eyes briefly skimmed over Mira before settling on me with a wide grin.

“Mira,” he seemed to purr. “You’ve brought us a guest.”

“Everyone out,” Mira ordered, ignoring the nightwalker. “I need to speak with Gregor alone.”

The nightwalkers and two humans in the booth slowly pushed to their feet and slunk away, all of them careful to not walk past me. I slid into the booth next to Mira, while a low table separated us from the nightwalker called Gregor. I recalled seeing him at the First Communion with a conservatively dressed brunette.

“To what do I owe this unique honor?” Gregor asked, oozing a wicked kind of glee as his eyes failed to waver from my face.

“Abigail Bradford,” I said in a stark cold voice, finally causing the smile to fade from his mouth.

“Oh, that business,” Gregor mumbled. The nightwalker slouched in his seat, laying his hands limply in his lap. “It is a shame about her, but I can’t tell you who killed her. Heard it was quite messy, but again, I don’t know the ‘who’ behind the act.”

“I’d be shocked if you did know who killed her,” Mira said with a shake of her head. “I didn’t come here for that.”

“What else could you want to know with your new beau in tow, looking to scare us all into submission?”

I gritted my teeth, but otherwise kept my comments to myself. It wouldn’t help our cause and certainly wouldn’t make Gregor any more cooperative.

“I want to know if there could be a specific reason as to why she was chosen,” Mira said, easily brushing aside his comment.

“You mean it’s not enough that she was the only daughter of a United States senator?” Gregor inquired. One thick eyebrow arched as he turned his full attention to Mira.

“Speaking of which, who was the idiot that brought her in? It’s not like she could easily disappear if there was some kind of unfortunate accident,” Mira demanded caustically.

“I believe it was Everett who officially welcomed her into the fold,” Gregor said, then shrugged his narrow shoulders. “At least, that’s who I saw her with first.”

“That’s convenient,” Mira muttered. She flopped backward against the back of her seat and slouched slightly as well, nearly matching Gregor’s posture as she grumbled to herself about the ironic whim of the fates.

“I don’t understand,” I said, drawing Mira’s gaze back to my face, but it was Gregor who spoke up first.

“Mira is unable to punish our dear Everett for bringing in the wrong type of human because you already took the trouble of killing him this past summer.” Gregor’s smile darkened to something more twisted and evil.

In return, I sat back, crossing my arms over my chest as I frowned back at him. I wasn’t going to apologize if that was what either of them were looking for. I was a hunter. Killing nightwalkers was what I did. When I came looking for Mira in July, I had slaughtered several vampires in an effort to locate her. Everett was just one in a long list of deaths that had occurred at my hand.

“And after Everett disappeared, you welcomed Abigail into your little group?” Mira pressed, ignoring the staring contest that was building between Gregor and me.

Gregor blinked first, jerking his attention back to the Fire Starter. It was clear within her voice that she was growing more irritated with both of us. “She was a sweet girl,” Gregor commented. “Funny, charming, and adventurous. She already knew about us so I saw no problem in allowing her to continue her association with our kind through me and my friends.”

“You could have wiped her memory,” I snapped.

The nightwalker sat up a little straighter, his smile dimming into a slight frown as he looked at me. “Yes, I could have, but in truth it never occurred to me. I didn’t discover that she was the daughter of a senator until after she died. All I knew was that she kept an apartment on River Walk, was a sweet little curator at one of the local museums, and enjoyed club hopping. Abigail was just another one of the crowd.”

“And she knew Tristan?” Mira inquired.

Gregor’s smile returned as he looked over at Mira. “Yes, Abigail was with us the night that Tristan happened in the Dark Room. I invited him over to sit with us, to have a bite to eat. Abigail was more than willing. I thought it would please you that I made the effort to welcome your young one into the area.”

This time it was Mira’s turn to frown at Gregor. She leaned forward, her nails digging into the seat cushion beneath her. “Have a care with Tristan. I don’t always approve of your games with the fledglings, but I have been lenient and allowed you to have your fun. I will not be so forgiving when it comes to my family.”

“I have in no way threatened Tristan,” Gregor quickly argued, holding both of his hands up and open toward us in surrender.

“You never threaten,” Mira countered. “You offer up little games, escapades of chance and risk, and fledglings end up dead.”

“Your warning has been noted, but again, I must state that I have not threatened Tristan in any way,” Gregor amicably said. “I only offered him a hand of friendship, a sip from my cup.”

“A cup that happened to be Abigail,” I said.

The nightwalker shrugged, folding his hands in his lap. “She was willing and it certainly wasn’t the first time. She knew what she was doing. Again, as far as I know, none of us were aware of the young woman’s parentage. I like to think that we would have taken care of her memory should it been known.”

“Besides your little group, was there anyone else that she was known to associate with?” Mira inquired, dragging us back to the topic at hand. The reason we had come here was not to draw lines in the sand where Tristan was concerned, nor had we come here to discuss my disgust for their habits.

“Not anyone that I noticed,” Gregor replied.

“What about the lycans?” I asked.

Gregor frowned as he looked out toward the dance floor, seeming to be lost in thought for a moment. “Back before the naturi, back when there was peace with the shifters, she spoke with them here at the club,” Gregor said, his voice taking a somewhat wistful tone. “I never noted a particular preference for any one lycan. She was just friendly, striking up a conversation with someone who happened to be standing next to her at the bar as she waited for a drink. Abigail was a free spirit.”

Shoving my right hand through my hair, pushing it away from my eyes, I gazed down at Mira, who seemed to be staring at the table, lost in thought. “It doesn’t sound like she was chosen because she was involved with any particular nightwalker, but because she was involved in this world,” I said. “It’s not enough that she was a senator’s daughter who died under suspicious circumstances. That could be covered up.”

“But a little digging into her habits, her friends, the people that she was known to associate with could reveal our entire world,” Mira continued, picking up the thread of my thought. She looked up at me, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. “It would at the very least start pointing fingers at the Dark Room. Nightwalkers can do without the publicity.”

Gregor suddenly sat forward, his hands coming to rest on his knees. “You’re not going to shut down the Dark Room again, are you?”

Mira shook her head, looking down at the table again. “So far, it’s been quiet. The media haven’t gotten past her squeaky clean background as an honor student and museum curator for the Girl Scouts. Unless we close this case soon, they’re going to start digging deeper and it’s only a matter of time before people start pointing out where she spent her nights.”

“She frequented a number of the bars around the city,” Gregor argued. “The Dark Room is just one of the many.”

“The Dark Room is also the only exclusive, members-only club in the city. It’s going to raise some eyebrows and put this place in the spotlight,” I said, drawing Gregor’s ire. When I was hunting for Mira, I quickly learned to keep my distance from the club, as the concentration of nightwalkers would easily overwhelm me. The temptation had been to linger not far away and watch for someone of Mira’s description to appear, but the risk had been too great.

“I’m content to leave things as they are for now,” Mira said with a heavy sigh. “Since you are so partial to the Dark Room, I put it in your hands to keep an eye on the media and see to it that they don’t go looking into our little establishment.”

Gregor jerked in surprise at this pronouncement. “Really? Isn’t such a thing within Knox’s domain?”

“He’s got enough to worry about,” Mira snapped. “Maybe you’ll prove to be useful to me at long last instead of a pain in my ass.”

“As you wish,” he said, with a nod. The nightwalker then looked over at me and waved absently. “Watch yourself.”

My would-be attacker’s footsteps were nearly silent under the loud music that now blasted through the nightclub. As I turned, a young woman carrying a blade rushed me. Her teeth were clenched and bared so that I could hear the low rumble of a growl coming from her as she lunged. I hesitated, my brain struggling to understand why this complete stranger had decided to attack me unprovoked. At the last second, I caught her wrists with both hands, but not before she managed to bury the tip of her knife in the meaty part of my shoulder, slicing through muscle.

A hiss slipped from between my clenched teeth as I shifted my weight to my left foot so that I could shove the woman away from me. She kept her tight grip on the blade, pulling it out of my arm as she stumbled backward.

The scent of my blood hit the chilled air and I was immediately swamped by the wave of hunger that washed red through the club. I blinked a couple times, struggling to focus on the world around me, the pain in my arm, anything but the swarm of nightwalkers that suddenly felt the urge to drain me dry. Suppressing a growl, I closed up my mind as much as possible, dampening the hunger pangs echoing through my brain. Mira was the only creature that I couldn’t completely block out. I could feel her as a slim shadow in my thoughts, simply watching while hunger gnawed at her insides.

The enraged woman shoved away a chair that had become entangled with her feet and tightened her grip on the bloody blade in her right hand. She took another swipe at me, but I easily slipped out of her reach as I sidled away from the booth. Unfortunately, my back was now turned toward a growing throng of nightwalkers who were intently watching the scuffle. I needed to end this as quickly as possible before anyone else decided to join in the fray. In Mira’s weakened state, I wasn’t so sure she would be able to control this mob and I wasn’t about to put it to the test.

“A fan of your work?” Mira inquired from behind me. She sounded as if she were still lounging in the booth with Gregor.

“You fucking bastard!” the woman snarled, looking as if she was searching for an opening.

“Guess so,” Gregor muttered, but I ignored them both. My focus was on the woman. A quick scan revealed that she truly was just human. Not a vampire. Not a lycanthrope. Not even a witch. I killed nightwalkers by the light of the moon. How could she possibly hope to kill me? Unless she didn’t. Maybe she was the distraction. I couldn’t take any chances surrounded by this many nightwalkers. I had to end the confrontation as quickly as possible, and preferably without any additional bloodshed.

“What do you want with me?” I asked, taking a step away from the woman in an effort to establish a little breathing room.

“I want you to die!” she screamed. As she swung the blade at me, a swath of brown hair fell across her face, momentarily blocking her vision. I snatched up the opportunity, ripping the knife from her grip. She shrieked at me in rage, lurching toward me with her fingernail aimed to remove a layer of flesh from my face. Placing my hand on her bony shoulder, I shoved her backward. Nightwalkers scattered as the woman stumbled away from me until she finally fell to her butt in the middle of the dance floor. The grinding music had been stopped and the silence was broken only by the woman’s jagged breathing.

“I don’t know you,” I said in a firm voice. “Why do you want me dead?”

The first of her tears started slipping down her pale face as she stared up at me from where she continued to sit on the dirty floor. “You killed him,” she started in a low, haunting voice. “They told me that you hunted him down and killed him.”

A new darker sense of dread took hold in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t like the direction this was headed and my only hope was that someone had lied to this poor woman.

“Who?” I asked, my voice losing some of its former strength.

“Mark! His name was Mark and you killed him,” she shouted. Her hands balled into fists at her sides and shook with her anger and her obvious pain.

I turned so that I could look at Mira, while still being able to watch the woman out of the corner of my eye. “Mira?” I prompted. She was the keeper of this domain; she would know what had happened to this lost soul.

“She’s right,” Mira said in a weary voice. “Mark was the third one you killed when you came into my territory in July.

My shoulders stiffened and my fingers tightened around the handle of the knife as I turned back to face the woman, who was now gasping for air amid her sobbing. Her slim shoulders jerked as tears streaked down her cheeks to splatter on the floor.

“You don’t remember him?” the woman demanded in a ragged voice. “You fucking bastard. His name was Mark and he had soft brown hair and gentle brown eyes. Would never have hurt anyone! You killed him and he never did anything to hurt anyone!”

I had killed someone important to her—a friend, a lover. And I couldn’t remember his face. He was lost to the overwhelming tide of blood and death that had followed me for endless centuries.

In July, I came into Mira’s domain searching for the Fire Starter. I killed any nightwalker that attacked me and any that refused to answer my questions. Five died in all, but I couldn’t recall the faces of any of them. They were just nightwalkers; dark creatures that fed upon the life of humans.

And yet I had succeeded in wounding the very creatures I had sworn to protect. The poor human weeping at my feet had been hurt by my decision to kill her lover.

Clenching my fists at my sides, I turned my head and glared at Mira. I wouldn’t apologize for what I had done. I couldn’t do it. I still believed in what I was doing. Someone had to protect the humans from the nightwalkers.

Yes, but some humans don’t want or need your protection, Mira mentally said to me, proving that she had been listening to my thoughts. Your actions have more severe repercussions than you sometimes realize.

I save lives.

And sometimes you destroy them. A sad look filled Mira’s lavender eyes as she met my gaze. For a moment, it felt as if she pitied me and I wondered if she was right. But I crushed the thought as quickly as it appeared. Someone had to protect humanity from vampires. Right?

I won’t apologize, I sent the stubborn thought to her, though it felt more than a little tired and worn.

I never asked you to, Mira replied. She slid out of the booth and flowed to her feet like liquid. I could feel all the eyes in the room suddenly shift from me to the keeper. She was finally going to take control of the situation and everyone knew that someone was going to finish the night in pain.

“Who does this woman belong to?” Mira demanded, raising her voice so that it easily reached all the dark corners of the club.

When no one immediately spoke up, Gregor ventured a guess. “Mark?” I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder at the nightwalker, suddenly understanding why Mira found him to be such a nuisance. Instead, I let my gaze travel around the room. No one was willing to meet Mira’s direct gaze.

“All right. Let me try this again. Who brought this woman into the Dark Room?” Mira demanded, her tone growing sharper with each word. The Dark Room was a membership-only club and members had to be either nightwalkers or lycanthropes. Humans were only allowed into the club under a lycan or vampire escort.

“I brought her in,” said a blond nightwalker. She held her hand slightly above her head as she stepped forward from a knot of nightwalkers. “We’re friends. I didn’t know you were going to bring the hunter here. If I’d known, I would never have let her in.”

“But I’m sure you were kind enough to inform her exactly who Danaus was when he did appear,” Mira sneered.

“She asked,” the vampire said with a shrug. “I didn’t know she would react like this.”

Neither Mira nor I believed her. The nightwalker could have easily read my attacker’s mind and seen what she planned to do. Of course, there wasn’t a nightwalker in the place that I would have expected to stop the woman before she brandished her knife. Mira might be the possible exception to that, but even that was doubtful, depending on her mood. The only thing about this whole mess that I did find surprising was that Gregor had seen fit to warn me that she was about to strike. He could have easily allowed her to stab me and no one would have thought less of him.

In a flash, Mira palmed a knife that had been at her side and threw it at the blond. The knife hit her with enough force to throw her back a few steps as it buried itself in the vampire’s shoulder. The blond cried out in pain and surprise as she wrapped her hand around the knife. The scent of fresh blood once again hit the air and the haze of bloodlust grew thicker, but this time there was a new feeling in the air. It was the same demand for death and pain that I felt when Mira was punishing David at the First Communion. When it came to a struggle between two nightwalkers, there was little loyalty to be found, only a thirst for destruction and violence.

“Your lack of discretion could have created chaos and deaths we cannot afford among our ranks. You are not welcome at the Dark Room until you are back in my good graces,” Mira pronounced. “I will not abide attacks on my guests and on members of my family.”

A second later, a bouncer that had been hovering at the front door of the Dark Room when I walked in with Mira swooped down and grabbed the blond by the arm and ushered her out of the club before she could even pull the knife free from her arm.

A heavy silence settled over the club except for the loud sobbing of the woman still seated on the floor. She had not moved during the brief scuffle between Mira and the blond nightwalker that had been her friend.

“What do we do?” I asked, dragging Mira’s gaze back to me.

She frowned at me, creating little lines between her thin brows as she gave a little shrug. “That’s actually up to you. She attacked you. You beat her. By our laws, her life belongs to you now. You can kill her if you like.”

The woman let out a soft whimper and pushed a little away from me before I could even speak.

“Absolutely not!” I snapped. “Just let her go and let’s forget about it all.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not a possibility either,” Mira said. She turned and looked down at the young woman with the red, tear-streaked face. “She broke our rules. She attacked my guest, insulting me and shaming her host. She’s proven that she can’t be trusted. How do we know she won’t turn us in to the Daylight Coalition next because she didn’t get her proper vengeance?” The Daylight Coalition was a group of human vampire hunters, and they would love to get information from an insider.

“What do you suggest?” I inquired, a part of me dreading her answer.

Mira turned her gaze on Gregor, who was still lounging in the booth, watching the drama unfold like a movie on the big screen. “Wipe her memory,” Mira ordered.

“How much?” he inquired, slowly pushing out of his slouch to the edge his seat.

“All of it. Everything associated with our kind and lycans.”

Gregor frowned, but nodded at the direct order from the keeper of the domain. Rising to his feet with the natural, fluid ease of a nightwalker, he walked over and knelt before the woman, who was still sitting on the floor. My attacker tried to push backward, putting some distance between herself and Gregor, but the nightwalker grabbed her wrist, holding her in place.

“No! Wait! You can’t—”

“It’s okay,” Gregor said in a low, soothing voice. “This won’t hurt a bit. In fact, it’ll take the pain away,” he promised. The nightwalker pressed his hand against the woman’s head and temple before his eyes fell shut. A couple seconds later, the woman went completely limp, her eyes falling shut as well. The two stayed like that for a moment before Gregor lowered his hand and lifted his head.

“It’s done,” he announced. He slowly pushed back to his feet. As he wobbled slightly, one nightwalker caught him by the elbow and held him steady.

“Someone take her home,” Mira ordered. “I never want to see her here again.”

I watched as a tall male nightwalker bent down and put the unconscious human over his shoulder before carrying her out of the nightclub. The rest of the nightwalkers returned to their booths or dancing on the dance floor, the event of the evening seemingly forgotten. I walked back over to Gregor’s booth and stood next to Mira as she gazed down at the annoying nightwalker.

“It’s always interesting when you’re around.” Gregor chuckled when he looked up at Mira.

“Do you have any other information you can provide me about Abigail Bradford?” Mira stiffly said, ignoring his comment.

“Nothing that I can think of,” Gregor said with a shrug. “I believe that she was chosen simply because her death could cause the most trouble in our world.”

“But that means that the killer had to know something of our world in the first place,” Mira replied.

“Chilling thought, isn’t it?” Gregor said, his carefree demeanor finally slipping away. His gaze drifted up to me as he continued, “It’s as if our world is changing around us and not for the better.”

“Our world changed forever when the naturi returned,” I said.

To my surprise, Mira threaded her fingers through mine and we walked out of the Dark Room side by side. I had a grim suspicion that my appearance and obvious guest status in the nightclub had shaken up more than one nightwalker in Savannah and I knew the repercussions would be felt for many nights to come. I didn’t know what Mira was planning, but I truly doubted that I would like it. I rarely did.