Dayhunter (24 page)

“Our connection weakens with time and distance,” I replied sharply. “It is also a connection I do not wish to cultivate, and would prefer it to die completely.” I was still unnerved by the way his mind had touched mine last night, slowly scanning my body for the injury I’d sustained. But now the contact had dissipated, and I was only vaguely aware of his emotions, much like most humans.

Danaus simply nodded, wisely refraining from commenting on the fact that I hadn’t known Tristan was in trouble last night until it was too late. But then again, I had taken care of that problem last night. Sadira wouldn’t cause any problems for a long time.

As I turned to go back into the bedroom to throw on some clothes, Danaus pointed out a large box that had been delivered to the room a couple hours earlier. I shook my head as I carried it into the bedroom with me, knowing without opening it who had sent it. Valerio believed that appearance was everything in keeping up a facade.

Placing the large, white garment box on the bed, I pulled off the lid. Inside I found a black silk camisole and a white wrap made of antique lace. The straight, black skirt fell to my calves and was slit up the back. And of course, a pair of heels that had wide black ribbons that wrapped around my ankles. Quickly dressing, I decided at the last minute to leave my hair down. I took one last glance in the mirror and couldn’t quite fight back the small smile that rose on my lips. The outfit was elegant and appropriately conservative. Yet, it still somehow managed to be sexy and alluring with its tiny flashes of pale skin. If Valerio could divert his attention long enough from fashion and keeping up appearances, he could be a truly dangerous figure.

I was still smiling when I strode out of the suite and rode the elevator down to the lobby. It had been on the tip of my tongue to warn Danaus that Rowe was in the area as I slipped from the room, but I knew if I mentioned the naturi’s name, I would never be able to attend this meeting without his dark shadow. Besides, Danaus could at least sense the naturi, making him better protected. He didn’t need my warning.

When I entered the large marble lobby to the hotel, the sun had finished its descent in the horizon and the night took over. My footsteps nearly stumbled at the sudden surge of power that rippled through the air. For a brief moment my body felt more awake and alive, connected to something larger than myself. But just as suddenly the feeling faded, leaving me aware and calm. I was back in my element.

A soft chuckle drew my gaze across the nearly empty room. Valerio folded the newspaper he was pretending to read and laid it aside as he pushed out of his chair.

Valerio was the classical image of a vampire. Not the rotting, shambling corpse with breath that smelled like death, but the Hollywood version with brown hair and pale blue eyes like a glacier kissed by the sea. His cadaverous white skin was stretched over lean muscle, created by a human life spent at hard manual labor and an undead existence filled with constant physical activity. He was shorter than me, but not by much. It was not something easily noticed either. When the nightwalker entered a room, his presence filled it in such an overwhelming way that you couldn’t be aware of anyone or anything else. He became everything and was everywhere.

Handsome was an inadequate word to describe him. He was beautiful in the same fashion Michelangelo’s David was beautiful or the Venus de Milo. He possessed the same type of beauty as a summer sunset on the Mediterranean with a full moon rising in the distance. Awe-inspiring. Breathtaking. The type of peaceful, exquisite beauty that made you want to believe in a God or that there was good left in the world. It was the kind of beauty that convinced you to hold on for just one more day.

But it was more than his appearance that fulfilled the image humans now clung to when it came to vampires. It was also his manner. Calm, unshakable confidence oozed from every pore and controlled the muscles in his lean frame. It was in his walk and the way he stood, poised and always aware of his surroundings. He possessed the same seductive beauty as a sleeping jaguar. Beautiful and infinitely deadly when awakened.

Sadira taught me concepts like power and control when dealing in the world of nightwalkers. Jabari gave me the concepts of loyalty and honor, instilling within me a sense of history for my kind. But Valerio taught me how to live as a nightwalker and how to live with myself. He opened my eyes to the world of pleasure and joy. I learned to laugh again. Valerio gave my kind a new reason to fear me. I learned how to play games with my prey, both physical and mental, to induce equal parts happiness and fear.

When I left both Sadira and Jabari, I had never looked back. I stepped from their shadow and pursued my own life, in a fashion. But I had yet to completely shed Valerio. Years withered away and I found myself once again seated in an elegant parlor or strolling down a rat-infested alley with Valerio smiling at my side. I’d leave him with unspoken words like “Never again” balanced on the tip of my tongue, but knew better than to say it. Our paths always found a way to cross.

I had no idea how old he was. Old enough. He had such a quiet, unobtrusive way about him that I couldn’t begin to guess the extent of his powers, but none dared to cross him, and he gave few reason to do so. Was he born chum, or was he a First Blood? I couldn’t even begin to guess.

I didn’t fear him, and I knew that it might prove to be my greatest mistake. I didn’t trust him and was extremely cautious around him, but my lack of fear could prove to be the end of me. If anything, Valerio had taught me to fear myself.

Walking over to where I stood, a patronizing smile lifted his full lips, revealing a hint of white teeth. “
Cara
Mira,” he chuckled, an Italian accent faintly lacing his words. “I had forgotten you usually sleep late, missing out on the birth of the night.”

“What is it you wanted to see me about?” I demanded, overcoming my momentary surprise that he had chosen to speak in English. It was a struggle to keep from crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t want him to see how tense I was, but I had no doubt he could read it in the stiffness of my shoulders and the frown that pulled at the corners of my lips.

“Where is your companion? The hunter?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“In the suite. I assumed you wanted a private meeting.”

“Oh, I do,” he said, his smile widening. Valerio took one last step forward, the lapels of his jacket briefly brushing against my breasts. His left hand snatched up my right hand from where it dangled limp at my side and he placed his right hand on my waist as he forced me into a quick waltz around the lobby. If we hadn’t been cloaked from the gaze of the people who lingered in the expansive entrance, I’m sure we would have earned more than a few strange stares. “I’ve been waiting to discuss a few things with you, sweet Mira.”

Tilting my head down slightly so I could look him in the eye, Valerio took advantage of our closeness to press his lips to mine. My body reacted to the familiar contact before my brain had a chance to step in. We stopped moving and I leaned into his hard frame, relaxing at his touch as my eyes drifted shut. His right hand slid from my waist to my back, pulling me tightly against his frame. His familiar touch eased the tension from my shoulders and it drained from the muscles in my limbs. His scent teased my nose as if trying to call up some of the good memories I had packed away of him. For some strange reason, the nightwalker smelled of cinnamon.

But it was wrong. My thoughts finally surfaced above the sensations vibrating in my frame. Valerio was trouble. He was another manipulator and killer. And the kiss was no different than the one I had received from Rowe, leaving me feeling used and dirty. More of my nights with Valerio had been washed in blood than all my years with Sadira and Jabari. The only difference being that Valerio had made it fun, where his predecessors had turned it into a nightmare.

Breaking off the kiss, I pushed against his chest. The nightwalker didn’t fight me, allowing me to take a few steps out of his embrace. Rubbing my eyes, I shook my head, marveling at how quickly I had been swept up in him. “Don’t touch me,” I said in a cold, hard voice.

“I’ve missed you, Mira,” he murmured, drawing my gaze back to his face.

I snorted, stifling the bitter laugh that nearly escaped. “And last night you were calling me a traitor. I’m no fool, Valerio.”

“Foolish, sometimes, but never a fool,” he said. His smile widened to reveal a pair of perfect white fangs.

Waving my hand dismissively at him, I turned to pace away from him when the sound of my muffled footsteps caught my attention. I looked down at the thick white carpet that covered the floor. The hotel lobby was entirely filled with marble. My gaze jerked up to find that I was no longer standing in the lobby of the Cipriani, but in a salon with antique furniture.

“Damn it, Valerio!” I growled, stalking over to one of the curtained windows on the far wall. “Where the hell am I?” The decor was unlike anything I had seen in the Cipriani. In fact, it didn’t remind me of anything I’d seen in Venice.

“Somewhere private,” he replied.

Ignoring him, I grabbed the curtains in my fists and jerked them open to reveal concrete where the canals had once been. I glanced up and down the street but didn’t immediately recognize any of the buildings. A knot of panic tightened in my stomach and I forced myself to release my hold on the curtains before I sent them up in flames. “Where the hell am I?” I snarled, turning back to face the nightwalker. He still stood in the center of the room, his hands in his pockets again. My flare of temper had no effect on his mien of perfect calm.

“In my private apartment in Vienna,” he said with a slight shrug.

“Vienna, Austria?” I shouted. “Send me back now.” I was furious with him and myself. He had kissed me so I wouldn’t notice the push through space, and I let it happen, hoping for a moment to erase the memory of Rowe’s kiss. I wanted to ask when he had gained the ability to disappear and reappear across vast distances like Jabari. It was a skill I had never seen him display before, and it made me more than a little nervous. Only the Ancients had such a skill, and Valerio never admitted to being more than one thousand years old.

“We need to talk Mira and we cannot do that in Venice,” he calmly said.

“I will not let the court hurt Tristan again or threaten Danaus. Send me back now,” I said through clenched teeth, closing in on him. “First Nicolai, and now you. I always thought the role of distraction was beneath you.”

“I am not acting on behalf of the Coven or its pets,” he continued, unmoved by my rage. “I left the island last night shortly before you did and have not returned to San Clemente. I do not know what the Coven plans for you today, but I promise that my bringing you here is not an attempt to threaten those that belong to you.”

“Then send me back,” I stubbornly repeated. My anger was ebbing, but frustration was still evident in my voice. I was afraid Jabari or anyone else on the Coven would sense that I was no longer in Venice. They would jump at the opportunity to attack Danaus and Tristan. I had to protect them, but I couldn’t do that when I was several countries away.

“I cannot. We must talk and I do not feel safe doing so in Venice,” he finally admitted. I paused, noticing for the first time a tension around the corners of his eyes and an unusual brittleness in his smile. “Reach out and touch Tristan’s mind. See that he is safe. Touch the hunter’s mind.”

I frowned but said nothing. Touching Danaus’s mind was tricky and I doubted if I could do it from that distance. However, I did reach out and touch Tristan’s thoughts. He was just awakening from his daylight slumber. His thoughts were sluggish and confused, but he was calm.

When I met Valerio’s gaze again, my frown eased a bit. The nightwalker’s shoulders slumped slightly as some of the tension flowed from his body. “So now you believe me?” he gently asked, a soft smile haunting his lips again.

“For the moment,” I snorted, walking away from him. The door between my mind and Tristan’s was left open a crack. I wasn’t in his mind reading his thoughts because I wanted to give him some privacy, but the constant connection would allow me to know the second anything was wrong.

I returned to the far wall and pulled open the curtains on the three windows there, giving me the opportunity to look out on the grand old city. It had been a long time since I last visited Vienna, and my reason for leaving then had been grim. Yet, the long, endless years had dulled the pain and muted the memories. I was more disturbed now by the fact that the pain I thought I should be feeling was little more than a hollow ache.

“I haven’t lied to you, Mira,” Valerio continued. There was a whisper of cloth rubbing as he walked over to me. “I have missed you.”

“You were never one to lie, Valerio. You just preferred to omit crucial information,” I said, not bothering to turn to look at him, but continued to stare out the window. My hands rested on the smooth wooden windowsill, letting the tips of my fingers absently trace the fine lines created when the white paint dried.

Laying his hands on my shoulders, his strong fingers kneaded my tense muscles, rubbing away the several days’ worth of tension. Slowly, he let his hands slide down my arms, pulling away the lace wrap to bare my shoulders. “We were so good together,” he whispered, gently pressing a kiss to my right shoulder. “Remember our fun in Morocco? I don’t think we stirred from that apartment for nearly two weeks.”

“Or the bars after the bullfights in Pamplona,” I volunteered with a little laugh. “It was a shame about the matador. I don’t think he ever properly recovered.”

“What’s that American saying? He could have been a contender,” he chuckled, pressing another kiss to my bare skin, only this time a slight whisper of teeth grazed my flesh. Only after his chuckles died did he speak again. His voice was heartwrenchingly soft, like an ex-lover’s touch on my cheek. “Since traveling to the New World, you have not returned to visit.”

“You could have come to the United States,” I countered, twisting around slightly so I could look him in the eye. “You obviously have the ability to make it a quick trip.”