Nightwalker dd-1

by Jocelynn Drake

  “I find it hard to believe that you’ve never touched a nightwalker before,” I teased, tilting my head up so I was looking him in the eyes.

  “Once before,” he said, a grim smile touching his lips. “And that was only after he was done feeding off me.”

  “Yes, a meal tends to warm us up.”

  “But you’ve not fed tonight?”

  “No.”

  “And you’re still not…”

  “Cold as a corpse?” I supplied. The darkness that had briefly clouded his expression lifted at the comparison and his smile brightened. “Under normal circumstances, I can go several days without feeding and retain some warmth. A hot shower also helps.”

  “Do you retain such warmth because of your ability?”

  “To control fire? No. Fire does not burn or warm me. In fact, if I use the ability too much, I grow cold because it requires energy.”

  “I hadn’t known.”

  “No human ever has.”

  “Why do you trust me?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  I laughed deeply, the sound filling the room, shoving aside some his energy. He shifted at the sudden intrusion, resettling himself against his desk. “I don’t.” I slumped into the chair behind me, throwing one leg carelessly over the chair arm. “Call it a gesture of good faith. I give you a little something…”

  “Because you want something,” he finished.

  “Doesn’t everybody?”

  “What is it you desire?”

  My voice and expression hardened instantly. “Information.”

  “An expensive commodity.”

  “Perhaps, but what you get in return is valuable as well,” I said, my eyes never wavering from his face.

  “And what is that?”

  “Your life.”

  “So we’ve come to threats,” Ryan announced, sounding amused.

  “Not at all. Just a statement of fact. The naturi are a threat to both human and nightwalker. You have information that may help my kind. We are the ones risking our lives to protect you.”

  “Very noble of you.”

  “Hardly,” I said with a snort. “And you know better.” I looked up at him and his expression turned serious again. We had enjoyed our brief moment of levity, but time was wasting away.

  “What is it you think I know?”

  “I don’t know, but considering that I know nothing, it has to be more than me,” I admitted. “You discovered the first sacrifice in India before we even realized anything was happening.”

  “Are you sure we were the first?”

  “No,” I whispered.

  Before the disaster in London and Thorne’s death, I would have emphatically said yes, but now I wasn’t sure of anything. The naturi knew too much, finding me far too quickly in Egypt and again in London. Someone was betraying me, and I didn’t like my options at the moment. Of course, I wasn’t about to voice those thoughts to a human. And if I had my way, I’d be holding the creature’s heart in my hand before the naturi attempted the second sacrifice.

  “But at the moment,” I continued, pressing through those dark thoughts, “it doesn’t matter. How did you discover the body?”

  “Konark has long been the center for heavy magic use,” he explained, “though it hadn’t been used for a very long time. I felt the surge in power that night. I had researchers on a plane before dawn touched the Indian sky.”

  “What about the trees?”

  “That, I fear, was just luck. One of the members of Themis was on vacation in Canada. He caught sight of a carving while hiking and took a picture. He thought it was some new branch of Wicca springing up. After that, I sent out every available operative to find more carvings.”

  “How many did you locate?”

  “Twelve.”

  “Do you know what they mean? Can you read their writing?”

  “Not really,” he said with a sigh. “The markings on the trees mean nothing to me, but I can make some educated guesses with the blood markings surrounding the sacrifice at Konark.”

  “Do you think you found all the carvings?”

  “Yes. I’ve checked every day since the first sacrifice but detected no other places I think might have the markings. Do you know what they mean?”

  “The carvings? No,” I said with a shake of my head. “This isn’t the first time they’ve attempted to break the seal, but I have never seen or heard of the carvings before.”

  “I had thought they were used as a way of activating the twelve holy sites,” Ryan speculated. With his right hand, he picked up a crystal paperweight about the size of a baseball. It looked like a crystal ball, but instead of being clear, red veins ran through the orb. He rolled the crystal between his two hands, a nervous gesture that revealed his worry, unlike the more guarded and planned expressions that crossed his face.

  “No, the first sacrifice accomplished that. The carvings mean something else,” I said, shoving my hand through my hair, pushing it back from my face.

  “So, now we just wait for the second sacrifice.”

  “It will be soon. Very soon,” I whispered.

  Ryan put the paperweight back on his desk and stood. “Are you sure? How do you know?”

  “They’ve begun checking the other eleven sites. Once they locate the right one, they have only a small window of time to use it. The pool of power is constantly moving. I’ve never heard of anyone being able to tell when it will move or where it will go to. Maybe Aurora can, I don’t know.”

  “But the next new moon isn’t for another five nights,” Ryan said with a shake of his head.

  “The naturi are not bound to the key phases of the moon, though it helps,” I replied, fighting the urge to get up and pace. I forced a tight smile onto my lips as I titled my head back to look up at a warlock. “You know magic. It’s more than just the moon, and the seasons, and the alignment of the heavens.”

  “Magic is also about circles and balance,” he finished. His brows drew together slightly, as furrows ran through his smooth forehead.

  “And the anniversary of when the last seal was created is upon us,” I murmured. The thought had first occurred to me when I was talking to James last night. I too thought they would stick to phases of the moon, since it would provide them with the most power to break the seal. But destroying what the nightwalkers had wrought on the anniversary would not only be a powerful blow magically, but deal a heavy blow to the morale of my kind. “The naturi will be making their attempt either tonight or tomorrow night.”

  “And if they were to succeed…”

  “Then they would be able to open the door in five nights, lining up perfectly with the new moon.”

  “And the pagan harvest holiday.”

  “We’re running out of time,” I said with frustration, pushing out of the chair. I paced over to the wall of books on my left and back to Ryan, my arms folded over my stomach.

  “But you have everything you need,” he argued, looking at me with confusion filling his face.

  “No, I don’t,” I replied, turning to walk back toward the bookshelf. “A triad of nightwalkers stopped the naturi five centuries ago. One of the three, Tabor, was killed by the naturi several years ago. With him gone, we have to reform the triad. Unfortunately, the replacement I found was killed while I stood there watching.”

  “But the triad has already been reformed,” the warlock said, his voice a gentle caress in the silence of the room.

  I spun on my heel to look at him as my stomach attempted to turn itself inside out. “What?”

  “I could feel it as soon as you entered the compound. All the pieces needed to seal the door again have been found,” he said confidently.

  My legs threatened to buckle beneath me when I heard this horrible pronouncement. I was supposed to be the third? It couldn’t be. Sadira was my maker, putting us in the same bloodline. And if Sadira’s story was to be believed, so was Jabari and Tabor. I didn’t want to be a part of the triad. My job was to find a replacement for
Tabor and protect Sadira. After that, I was returning to my city across the ocean and never looking back. They didn’t need me for anything else.

  “You’re wrong,” I said, nearly choking on the words. “I can’t help them.”

  “You have no choice,” he sadly said. “I—” Ryan abruptly broke off as his gaze darted toward the door and cocked his head to the side as if listening to someone whispering in his ear. “Something is coming.”

  “What do you mean ‘something’?” I snapped. “Is it the naturi?”

  “No, something else. I don’t know what. It’s powerful,” he said, pushing away from the desk to stand.

  “Great,” I muttered, already moving toward the door. “You better get your people to cover. I’ll do what I can.” I didn’t know what I was facing, but I assumed it was at the Compound because of me and my traveling troupe of vampires and misfits.

  “Thank you,” Ryan called.

  “Don’t be too grateful. I may still need to pick your brain.”

  “As long as I’m alive for it,” he joked, though the laughter no longer reached his golden eyes.

  I paused, holding the door handle, and looked over my shoulder at the warlock. “Did you order my death?” I inquired, wondering if I would ever have another chance to ask. I needed to know exactly where I stood with this creature.

  “Recently?” he asked.

  “Ever.”

  “Yes.”

  Twenty-Five

  I walked down the main staircase toward the first floor, my feet sinking into the thick carpet that covered the stairs. Apparently Ryan had sent out some kind of mental warning to the proper people because I heard doors being thrown open around me and hurried footsteps across the hardwood floors. I needed to get these people out of my way. If something not good was headed to the compound, I didn’t want to concern myself with the stray gawker trying to collect a little valuable data.

  A part of me was aching for a fight. A couple of naturi to deal with, something to rip apart; their flesh squishing warmly between my fingers and collecting under my fingernails. While I’ll admit that I was still extremely hungry, more than a rising blood lust clouded my thoughts. I craved just the sight of blood. I wanted to see it splashed across the skin and soaking into torn and shredded clothing. I needed the violence, an outlet for the frustration and the fear. In the brief moment when you are struggling to stay alive, you convince yourself that you’re actually in control of your life and destiny. And when you kill that which was trying to kill you, you bask in a moment of true power. I wanted that moment, even if it was an illusion.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford a fight right now. My job was to protect Sadira, and the best way to do that was to avoid confrontation altogether. Sadira’s skill lay not in physical strength, but in the horrible ways she could destroy a creature’s mind. She cultivated fear and obedience in her own special way but was not a fighter. Furthermore, neither she nor I were at our top strength after last night’s healing session. We both had to feed, and I still needed a couple more days of rest.

  A familiar voice halted my descent at the second floor, jerking me from my frantic thoughts.

  “What is it?” Danaus called from behind me. I turned on the stairs to find him buckling the last leather wrist guard on his right arm as he descended. His hair was damp and hung heavy about his broad shoulders. To my surprise, he was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans instead of his usual black cotton pants. His navy T-shirt was untucked and strapped down with a pair of sword sheaths crossing his back. I guess now that he was home, he felt he could go casual. Or maybe it was the fact that his mission was technically over. I had a tendency to forget how handsome he was when I was plotting how to peel his skin from the network of muscles and sinew that danced as he moved.

  “I don’t know yet,” I said. “Get your people somewhere safe. I’ll handle it.” I continued down the stairs at a slower pace, reluctantly serious.

  “They’re being moved to the basement, and all spare hunters are going to stand guard down there,” he replied, walking down one step behind me.

  “Any naturi?”

  “None that I can sense.”

  I think Danaus was about to say something else when the heavy front doors crashed open against the walls. Splinters flew through the air and I barely had enough time to raise my arm to shield my face. There had been no warning, no surge of power. I stayed, unmoving, on the third step from the bottom, a gust of cold air trying to push me back up the stairs. Lowering my arm from my eyes, I saw Jabari step across the threshold, the wind dying away to a whimper.

  I’ve heard humans say someone looked like the wrath of God. To me, Jabari looked far worse. Bare-chested, the nightwalker stared at me, his eyes glowing a wicked pale yellow, like so many fires I had conjured in my past. His cheekbones seemed more prominent than usual and his cheeks were hollows. For the first time since I’d met him, Jabari looked like the walking dead. He reminded me grimly of Charon, the ferryman for the underworld. Indeed, I believed Jabari had arrived to usher me from this life.

  Some part of me still loved him, but even I was beginning to question who it was that I loved. The questions were piling up, and the one person I’d been willing to trust was holding a stake over my heart. Sadira’s tale replayed in my head as I stared at him, dragging up painful questions as a knot of betrayal and anger rose in my throat. I had seen Jabari manipulate and use other nightwalkers like pieces on a chessboard, moving them about and sacrificing others when necessary to accomplish his ultimate goals. Somewhere along the way I’d convinced myself that I was different, that I truly mattered to the Ancient. Had I been wrong? Would he dangle me before my greatest fear in an effort to control me? Yes.

  “Jabari!” I cried, throwing my arms up in sham surprise. “It’s so good of you to join us. Please, come inside.” If it had been at all possible, his gaze would have set me ablaze at that moment. I only widened my smile, my teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.

  “You were ordered to protect Sadira,” he snarled, his voice crackling through the air like lightning.

  “And so I have.” My tone was still light and mocking. I had nothing to lose any longer and was tired of being pushed around.

  “Here?” He threw open his arms to encompass the manor. At the same time, half of the little globes in the overhead chandelier exploded, dimming the light. Shadows lunged from the corners and clawed up the wall to slink across the ceiling.

  “They’ve hunted us for centuries. It’s time they protected us for a while.”

  “You go too far.”

  “No, not yet,” I said with a sigh. “But don’t worry; I will.” To his obvious surprise, I came down the last three steps to the main hall, drawing closer to him. “Would you like to see Sadira?” Extending my right arm toward the hall along the left side of the staircase, I motioned for him to walk with me. His body was so stiff with rage, he could give only the barest of nods. I don’t know why he didn’t rip me in half then, beyond pure curiosity.

  I preceded him down the long, narrow hall, keeping a slow pace, as if I didn’t have a care in the world. What did I have to fear other than the rabid vampire at my back? The pair of hunters flanking the door headed toward the basement with a jerk of my head. No need for an audience. In a fight between nightwalkers, humans just ended up being props.

  Opening the door, I saw the same tableau I’d witnessed before leaving to take a shower. Sadira was seated in her chair like a queen, her back to the wall. Tristan stood dutifully behind her with a blank expression, while another pair of hunters stood near the door and window. My own pair of guardian angels, pacing the room, paused as we entered.

  “All humans out!” I announced as Jabari, Danaus, and I entered. The two hunters quickly left the cheerful, buttercup-colored salon without another word, but Michael and Gabriel didn’t move. “My angels as well,” I added, my tone softening. Both frowned, but left without another word. I think instincts alone told them to put some distance from
this lethal gathering.

  I turned to shut the door behind them and found that Danaus was still in the room. My eyes moved from him to the door in a silent question. A grim half smile lifted one corner of his mouth for a couple of seconds. “I don’t fit either of those categories.”

  “You may regret this,” I muttered, shutting the door.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time where you’re concerned.”

  That I believed. If he wanted to remain, so be it. My only worries were Jabari and my neck.

  “He leaves,” Jabari ordered, snapping my attention back to the Ancient. “He is not one of us.” I flinched at the sharpness of his voice, but I tried to not let it show. The Elder wanted me groveling before him, cowed and obedient. Not this time.

  “No.” I stepped away from the door, to stand next to Danaus. My face was blank, devoid of servitude. I wasn’t taunting or particularly begging for a fight, but I wanted Jabari to know that I was finally drawing the line in the sand.

  I sensed more than saw it when the Ancient’s arm snaked out with the intent of grabbing Danaus’s neck. Gritting my teeth, I caught his wrist and shoved him backward, nearly throwing him across the room. Jabari slid across the polished hardwood floor and caught himself before he slammed into the opposite wall. In the far corner, I heard Sadira gasp and Tristan hiss softly at my unexpected response. Both seemed to shrink as Jabari growled, the sound resembling a tiger’s warning more than anything that would emerge from the throat of something that had once been human. His powers flooded the room, nearly choking me. I mentally clawed my way back to the surface, refusing to be swamped by him. Truth be told, I would rather have been killed by Jabari than face the naturi again. But either way, I’d go down fighting.

  “Is this what shall finally destroy us? This creature, I will not let you kill,” I spat out, my lips drawn back to reveal my fangs. My posture was hunched as I waited for him to attack again, every muscle pulled taut and ready. The wound in my chest and back screamed in pain, but I pushed it back. The darkness deep inside of me began to rise up, swelling until it started to slowly blot out what was left of my humanity. It was the blood lust, the driving need to feel another creature’s life clutched in the palm of your hand. I remained in front of Danaus, making it clear to the Elder that he would have to go through me first.