wait for dusk

by Drake, Jocelynn

  “I have survived six centuries, battled both naturi and bori. I have slaughtered nightwalkers, shifters, and warlocks with my bare hands. Do you think in all that time I haven’t learned to kill without my powers?” I growled.

  “Kill her!” Veyron screamed, earning a deep laugh from me, which simply danced around the dark room, leaving them jumping at shadows.

  “Leave here,” I commanded. Those that had the power to scramble out on their own two legs scurried up the stairs, where they were met with a silent death by my dear companions.

  Dropping the heart, I licked some of the blood that was dripping from my fingers as I turned my attention to Veyron and Clarion. I smiled and cocked my head to one side as I looked at them, trying to decide how I would continue. There was a good chance that Clarion could crush me with a single spell. Besides, I wasn’t sure I could manipulate Danaus’s gift without him standing in the room with me.

  I might need to use your powers, I warned Danaus. I’m hoping to avoid it but I might not be able to.

  Do you need me there?

  Stay where you are. All of you. I wanted to at least present the image of taking care of Veyron alone.

  “Clarion, I would appreciate it if you released my powers now,” I announced patiently.

  The warlock arched one eyebrow at me and straightened where he stood. “And why would I do that?”

  “Because I can more effectively torture Veyron that way.”

  “What’s to stop you from trying to use your powers on me?”

  I dropped my sticky hands to my sides and narrowed my gaze on him. “My business is not with you, is it? You’ve just been maneuvering everything so this city would be cleaned out of all the rabble.”

  Clarion gave a slight shrug of one shoulder and I smiled. Lifting my right hand, I snapped my fingers and a small teardrop of fire appeared. I suppressed a sigh of relief. I was not accustomed to not having this gift at my fingertips. While Clarion’s magic had not gotten rid of my ability to manipulate fire, he had successfully suppressed the creation of fire within the house or around it. But now I had it back.

  “Clarion! We had a deal!” Veyron screeched. The nightwalker turned to lunge at the warlock, but with a wave of my hand a wall of fire formed a semicircle around him, keeping him pinned against the wall. Veyron pressed his back against the wall while standing on the tips of his toes in an effort to get as far as possible from the flames. “Mira!”

  You can come down now. Just follow my lead. I’m still digging for some information, I directed the others. Their footsteps pounded down the stairs. I didn’t look over my shoulder, but I could feel Danaus in the lead, his powers rushing ahead of him and down into the dark basement. With a thought, a ball of fire appeared near the foot of the stairs, offering up a globe of light against the pitch-blackness that had barely been penetrated by the dim pair of bare lightbulbs that hung overhead.

  “Now that the gang’s all here, let’s have a little chat, Veyron,” I said, making sure that Clarion understood I wasn’t including him in this nasty business. I had other, better, plans for him. “I want to know why Macaire came to you.”

  “Wh-Why would Macaire come to me? He doesn’t have any business here,” the nightwalker stammered.

  “Please, Veyron, I’m trying to make this easy for you. Don’t make me make you scream.”

  “Just kill him, Mira,” Stefan grumbled. “I’m ready to quit this place.”

  “Soon. We will leave soon,” I promised. I raised my left hand in a slow arc, and as a result fire jumped from the wall surrounding Veyron to his right arm. The nightwalker screamed and crushed his right arm against the wall, trying to put out the fire. I counted to seven and then extinguished the flames on him. “I can do this all night, and then get up the next evening and start it all over again. I can burn you until there is nothing left but a quivering mass of raw tissue and pain. Tell me why Macaire came to you.”

  “He wanted us to kill you and that thing,” he shouted, pointing at Danaus with his left hand. “He knew our numbers were strong here. Sofia told him about Clarion and was confident that we could use him. Macaire also thought Sofia could break you both, so he told us to separate and kill you.”

  I turned my gaze to Clarion and smiled. “The Ancient put his money on Sofia to break us,” I mused, and the warlock smiled smugly at me in return. He had been keeping to the shadows, biding his time.

  “It was an interesting bet,” he admitted.

  Looking back at Veyron, I caused the fire to move several inches closer to him, shrinking the semicircle. “Have you communicated with Macaire recently?”

  “No!”

  “When did you last speak with the Elder?” Valerio inquired.

  “The night of the ball.”

  “Did he give you any instructions regarding anyone else who might accompany me?” I asked.

  “Kill them. Kill anyone who was loyal to you,” Veyron said.

  I smiled. Macaire had sealed his own fate by alienating both Valerio and Stefan. The Elder could have contacted Veyron again after they announced they would be accompanying me. He could have changed the orders so they would be spared, but he hadn’t. Macaire wanted anyone associated with me dead.

  “P-P-Please, Mira!” Veyron begged. “I’ll do anything you say. Whatever you want! Please, I was only following orders. Macaire would have destroyed us all if we had not agreed to his demands.” Clarion sent him a look of disgust as he returned to leaning against the wall while shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers.

  “Enough.” I sighed. With a thought, the flames closed in around him, completely engulfing him. Veyron pushed off the wall and came running blindly in my direction, his high-pitched screams bouncing off the walls of the small room. I pulled my short sword from over my shoulder and stabbed it directly into his chest, spearing his heart and stopping him in his tracks. He thrashed about for nearly a minute before finally going completely still. Death had finally claimed him. I felt the cold touch of his soul as it flew past me in the wintry embrace of night.

  Extinguishing the flames, I lowered Veyron’s crusty black body to the floor. With my foot braced against his chest, I withdrew my sword and placed it back into the sheath on my back. One down and one tricky one to go.

  When I looked up, Clarion was regarding me with a calculating stare, which I met with a slight bow of my head. We had to come to an understanding if anyone was going to leave this basement alive.

  “So, where does this little escapade leave us?” he inquired.

  “On shaky footing, I would say,” I ventured. “Do you think it is possible for us to find a reasonable agreement this evening that would make everyone happy?”

  Clarion frowned for the first time and every muscle in my body seemed to tense in anticipation of his attack. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “I could just kill you now and have it all done,” I threatened.

  “You know you can’t use fire against me.”

  “I have other tricks.” Narrowing my eyes in concentration, I reached out and grabbed hold of Danaus’s powers. With a slight tug, I directed them at Clarion. In the back of my mind I heard Danaus growling at me, but he didn’t fight me, which was reassuring. The warlock’s face crumpled as he raised both of his hands to see the skin undulating.

  “Mira!” he snapped, and I released Danaus’s powers. I could try to kill Clarion this way, but doubted I would survive the spell he’d sling at me just before his death. I wasn’t willing to risk it when I still had a use for him. For now, I just wanted him to fear me.

  “I’m not limited to fire.”

  “I see,” Clarion replied in a low voice. “What is it that you would like to discuss?”

  “Budapest and her future.”

  He rubbed his hands together, seeming to try to massage away the unexpected heat that rested just below this skin. “Interesting topic.”

  “Macaire didn’t approach you. He approached and ordered the nightwalkers t
o hunt me and my people down,” I pronounced, leaving a wide opening for him to easily excuse himself from the madness. “If anything, you saw my arrival as an opportunity. You never wanted all these nightwalkers or lycanthropes within your city. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hated sharing the city with Sofia.”

  “Interesting thoughts. Why would you say such a thing?” he asked, scratching his chin.

  “I’ve known more than my share of warlocks and witches in my day. Sure, you might have your little covens where you cast spells together, but the really powerful ones don’t play well with others. You don’t like sharing a territory with other powerful spellcasters. Hell, you don’t like sharing your territory with other creatures at all if you can help it.”

  “Astute.”

  “Lessons learned the hard way,” I admitted with a shake of my head.

  “So I took advantage of the situation,” Clarion said. “I made sure that you had an easy target in the lycanthropes and nightwalkers.”

  “Even Sofia. Undoubtedly she secretly called for your help when I killed her. You could have easily come riding to her rescue but you abandoned her.”

  Clarion shrugged his wide, narrow shoulders. “She chose to go along with Macaire’s silly plan. Who am I to deny Sofia her fate? But where does that leave us?”

  “At an interesting impasse, I’m afraid. We could try to kill each other now, and I’m sure at least one person is likely to crawl away from this battle, but that won’t settle the question of Budapest’s future.”

  Clarion pushed against the wall and took a step toward me. “What do you want with Budapest?”

  “Only peace and quiet.”

  “Will you renounce your claim as keeper?” he demanded in a rush.

  I took a step forward and rested one boot on Veyron’s chest. “Can’t do that. It leaves the city open to any power-hungry nightwalker to move in and cause chaos. I can’t allow that to happen. However, I have noticed that my name alone has the power to keep order.”

  “Yes, I have heard such things.”

  “I am thinking of being more of an absentee landlord. I keep my main home in the New World, while maintaining a vacation home of sorts here in Budapest. All I ask is that you maintain order here among the spellcasters. Keep the peace and quiet.”

  “An alliance?”

  “No!” I said sharply, and then laughed. “I’ve seen how you operate in alliances. I was thinking of mutual acquaintances with similar goals. You go your way, I go mine. We both just protect the secret of our world from the humans, and otherwise don’t associate.”

  “Sounds too good to be true,” Clarion said with a distrustful shake of his head.

  “Only because I’m at an interesting crossroads. Normally, I would go after anyone that tried to kill me or plotted the death of my companions. However, you’re not the biggest fish in the pond, and I’m after him.”

  “Macaire?” Clarion guessed.

  “Macaire.”

  “And once you’ve killed the nightwalker, will you come after me?”

  “No. We’re wiping the slate clean. You were simply going to steal this territory, and I got in the way. I’m willing to let you have it on behalf of the spellcasters so long as you let me handle the nightwalkers.”

  “Friends?” One corner of his mouth quirked in an odd smile.

  “Not quite. Just not enemies. Try to kill me again and I will make you suffer,” I warned as I extended my hand to him. I was taking a chance, and I could hear both Valerio and Stefan cursing me in the back of my head. Clarion could kill me in the blink of an eye this way, but I was trusting he wouldn’t. He simply wanted this territory to himself without the politics, demands, or interference of any of the other races.

  “Not enemies,” Clarion repeated as he slowly took my hand. We shook twice and then quickly released, as we both were unsure of this tentative truce.

  “Now, as a little advice from one nonenemy to another, I would leave. I need to burn this place to destroy the evidence of tonight’s fun,” I said with a smile.

  Clarion returned my smile. “Next time you’re in town, stop by Gerbeaud Cukrászda and we will chat over coffee. You can tell me how you did your new little trick.”

  “Right,” I said sarcastically just before he disappeared.

  “Are you insane?” Stefan demanded the second he was gone.

  “Most definitely.”

  “How do you know he won’t come after you again?” Danaus asked.

  “Because he never truly came after me before. He didn’t attack you at the hotel with the lycans, did he?”

  “No,” Danaus said with a shake of his head.

  “And he could have definitely killed us in the taxi, but he didn’t. It was merely a warning. He could have easily killed us tonight, but that’s not his goal. He simply wants Budapest to himself, and now he’s got it.”

  “So, he’s keeper of Budapest now,” Valerio chuckled.

  “In a manner of speaking.” I turned and started to trudge up the stairs with Danaus and the others following close behind me. “I don’t want Budapest, but I need to be sure it doesn’t slip into chaos. Clarion will keep things quiet here and my somewhat bloody reputation will aid that.”

  I paused in the hallway to find the bodies of the nightwalkers that tried to escape strewn all over the place. Heads had been ripped off and hearts torn from chests. They had all died as quietly and quickly as possible. I was proud of the work my companions had done, even if it was gruesome to behold.

  “Besides, what I told him was true. I didn’t want to die uselessly trying to kill him, when my true target was just beyond my fingertips.”

  We filed silently out of the house and onto the front lawn, which was still coated in snow. I sucked in a deep, cleansing breath. I could smell the crisp snow and pine needles over the thick scent of death and blood. I raised both hands over my head and flames instantly engulfed the house from top to bottom. I poured all my energy into the flames, melting glass and incinerating wood. Bodies were reduced to ash and made unrecognizable. I wouldn’t be able to get rid of the evidence of gunfire, but I was hoping that the police would attribute the mess to a mafia hit. Regardless, a fight between nightwalkers wasn’t going to be their first theory.

  When the sound of sirens finally rang through the silence of the night, I lowered my hands back to my sides, leaving the fire to burn on its own. I leaned backward into Danaus, who wrapped a supportive arm around my waist.

  “Mira, you need to reconsider your plan to take on Macaire,” Stefan said in a low voice, surprising me. “He’s a powerful Elder. You haven’t a chance. You can’t even teleport.”

  “I’ll find a way to kill him.”

  “Stefan is right,” Valerio agreed. “You can’t do this. He won’t give you the opportunity to use your gift.”

  I gritted my teeth and stared at the ground. My boots were leaving red footprints in the snow from all the blood I had been wading through. “If I don’t, he is going to keep coming up with schemes to kill me and anyone associated with me. This time we got lucky. But next time, maybe not. I won’t allow someone to die because Macaire has it out for me.”

  “And if you do win, what about Jabari?” Danaus asked. “He won’t have a use for you any longer.”

  “I know.” But right now Macaire was at the top of my hit list.

  Chapter Thirty

  Venice had never looked so good to me. It represented the last stop on a tedious journey; the last thing keeping me from my beloved Savannah. I needed to go home. My sudden departure from the southern city had left many things hanging in the air. Tristan needed me. His battered psyche was being eaten away by guilt from having a hand in Lily’s death. The chaos created by the presence of the bori left the nightwalkers unsettled, and Knox had been forced to manage things in my absence. I needed to return home so I could smooth everything over. I needed to be there for Tristan.

  But for now I was stuck in Venice while I waited for the members of the coven
to reconvene. I sent Valerio on ahead to check in on the court and see what the recent gossip was. Danaus and I wandered along Guidecca Island as we awaited his return. The sidewalks were slick from a recent rainstorm and the water in the canals was high, slopping over the sides and past the railing. Storm clouds churned overhead with the promise of yet another storm that would leave many of the low-lying plazas underwater by morning. The lights in lampposts seemed to have dimmed, barely beating back the night, and an oppressive feeling hung in the air.

  “Something ill is waiting around the corner,” I said, slipping unconsciously into Italian. This place, with its centuries of bloody memories and violent flashes, pulled me into the safety of old habits.

  “It is only the weather,” Danaus replied in Italian as well.

  Stopping near the edge of the island, I stared out across the lagoon toward San Clemente Island, the resting place of the coven. My stomach twisted into knots and I anxiously shoved my hand through my hair, pushing it away from where it had blown across my face. I couldn’t remain waiting here. I needed to get on that island to find out what was happening. I needed to wrap my hands around Macaire’s neck so I could rip his head off.

  Everything will be fine, Danaus whispered across my brain. He laid his hands on my shoulders and attempted to massage away the tension, but the stiffness wasn’t going anywhere until I heard from Valerio.

  To my relief, the Ancient appeared beside us a few minutes later, but by his expression, I knew I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. “The coven has gathered at the hall. They know that you’re in town and are waiting to hear your report,” he said.