Pray for Dawn (27 page)

“Did they ever get close enough to get a good look at my car?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Mira said with a soft sigh. “Then we’ll just wait a little while and make sure that they aren’t getting any closer.”

“How?” I asked. Releasing the seat belt, I turned in my seat so that I was partially facing the nightwalker. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, picking up the small chunks of dirty light that was filtering in through the window on the second floor and through the roof skylight. I could pick out the outline of broken wooden pallets and the occasional crate. Mira remained a faint outline in the dark car.

“When we entered the city, I started cloaking you. I wanted to see if I could cloak you against the naturi. If they’re headed away from us, it would seem that the answer to my question is yes.”

“And if the answer is no?”

“Then we fight them in here, away from anyone else that might be hurt.”

I sat back in my seat again and stared off into the darkness. One thought kept repeating through my head. This choice didn’t fit her usual actions. When I arrived in Savannah in September, she had been in a car chase with the naturi. She had caused them to wreck and then continued the fight on the side of the road. This time we were hiding. Something had changed.

“Why are we hiding?” I demanded.

Mira turned her head and looked out the window to her left. “It’s for the best. No one gets hurt.”

“And it leaves naturi running free within your domain.”

“I never said that I was happy with the decision!” she snapped, her temper briefly flaring. “I just said that it was for the best.”

“What’s going on? Normally, you would have set the four on fire by now and we’d be merrily on our way,” I pressed.

“‘Merrily on our way,’” she repeated, a grin spreading across her face as she looked back at me. “I don’t recall us ever doing anything merrily. You’ll have to remind me.”

“Drop it! I’m being serious. What’s going on?”

The grin fell off of her full lips and she looked down at the steering wheel. “I can’t start fires.”

I stared dumbfounded at the nightwalker for nearly a minute, my brain seeming to shut down under that unexpected pronouncement. The Fire Starter could no longer start fires. How could such a thing happen? What was going to happen to her and her standing within the domain once the other nightwalkers discovered her ugly little secret? Fire had always been Mira’s edge.

“How did it happen? When? Is it because of what Cynnia did to you? But that can’t be, because you used fire at Machu Picchu and at the conservatory. Is the ability completely gone?” I started, the questions pouring out of me before actual thought seemed to kick in once again.

“I haven’t lost the ability,” she said, sounding painfully defensive. “I could still burn you to a crispy critter if I wanted to, so stop celebrating.” Mira drew in a cleansing breath that she didn’t need and gripped the steering wheel tightly. “I haven’t been feeding enough.”

“I’ve noticed,” I growled. When I let my guard down, the world around me was washed in a red haze when I was with Mira. Her hunger beat at me until I thought I would go mad. I couldn’t imagine how she managed to focus through it.

“I haven’t been feeding enough,” she repeated stiffly, ignoring my interruption. “I don’t have the energy to create and manipulate fire. It would be too exhausting. If I’m pressed and desperate, I could, but it would leave me…”

“Vulnerable,” I finished.

“Yes.”

For a heartbeat, I thought about it. She was weak. She was little more than a normal nightwalker now. She wouldn’t have the power to set me on fire. She wouldn’t have the strength to fight me if I tried to kill her now. The fight would be over in a matter of minutes and the world would at last be rid of one of the most dangerous creatures to ever walk its face.

And yet, in the very next heartbeat, I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill Mira. Maybe one day when we were finally standing on opposite sides and not drawn together by some common foe, I would be able to finally strike her down. But not tonight. For now, she was my ally, the one person in this world I had been charged to protect. Not only was she safe from me, but she also needed my help.

Leaning my right elbow on the door, I rested my head in my hand. I honestly couldn’t believe I was about to say this. “Then feed, Mira. We can’t afford to have you weak or possibly distracted. The naturi are running around your domain again and we’ve got something else chewing up young girls.”

“You don’t think this thing is naturi?”

I sighed, somewhat surprised to see that my breath was visible in the cold. I wasn’t ready to tell her. I needed more time to think, to figure out how we could possibly deal with this threat before setting the truth lose into the air. “I don’t know. You said there was a strange smell that you could identify. You’ve been around all the naturi, you know their smells.”

“So maybe the attacker isn’t naturi. Could be lycan or…warlock?”

“Or bori?” I said, mentioning the one creature I knew that she wouldn’t give voice to. The suggestion had to be thrown out there. She had to at least consider it.

“Highly unlikely.”

“And I’m sure you would have said that it was highly unlikely that I would have been affected by the Stain in Peru, but I was,” I said, turning my head to look at her. The spell had awoken the bori that held a part of my soul and the results had nearly been disastrous.

“Are the naturi close?” she demanded, ignoring my comment.

“No. Far end of the city and getting farther away.”

“Good. Then we continue this investigation by trying to find out why the attacker might have chosen Abigail Bradford for his victim when he could have chosen anyone else.” Mira reached for the key and started the car, causing its animal-like rumbling to echo through the empty warehouse.

“Where are we going?” I asked as she slowly backed the car into the street.

“The one place a nightwalker goes to get gossip: the Dark Room.”

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.”