Jocelynn Drake - Nightwalker

“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.”

Iwalked 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.