Wait for Dusk (10 page)

“More than three centuries ago, as you may recall,” he said, sliding me a sly smile that brought a blush to my cheeks. But then most of our memories would stain my cheeks red. “As to how I knew about Széchenyi, I had some time to read while I was waiting for your arrival.” To my shock, the nightwalker pulled a small travel guide out of his pocket and flashed it to me before returning it to his pocket.

“Always prepared for any eventuality,” I mocked, then turned my attention to the small grouping of nightwalkers that stood by the front doors. The welcoming committee didn’t look as if they were ready to let us pass into their private club, fellow nightwalkers or not.

As we drew close to the front doors, the three nightwalkers fanned out, blocking our entrance. Their hushed conversation stopped and they adopted a variety of bored and uninviting looks. It was all I could do to not giggle. The oldest of them wasn’t more than three centuries old. Hell, their combined ages couldn’t equal Stefan’s age, or probably even Valerio’s, not that the nightwalker would admit to it. They didn’t stand a chance in being able to stop us on their best night. I completed a quick scan of the entire exterior of the bathhouse and the entryway as well. They were the only ones guarding the place.

Are there no old nightwalkers within the city beyond Odelia?
I inquired of Stefan. These three could barely stop a determined human if they wanted to. Why put something so young on guard duty unless there was no one you were truly guarding it against except humans?

Not many, from what I had been able to gather,
he replied. I could sense his distaste for the private communication, but he at least understood that this was not the type of conversation one had with the help.

Seems odd for a city so old.
From my experience, old cities attracted old nightwalkers. They had old hiding places, old traditions, and old languages they were able to cling to.

Odelia may have cleaned house in order to solidify her power within the city.

It was a distinct possibility and was not totally unheard of. Removing any nightwalker that was relatively close to your age removed any potential competition in the region for your dominance. But in truth, it was odd for such an old city to be in the hands of one so relatively young. Budapest should have been in the hands of an Ancient at the very least. I was beginning to wonder if I was potentially cleaning house so Macaire could move in. To my knowledge, the Elder preferred to linger in Rome, never traveling too far from the coven seat in Venice.

“What business do you have here?” asked the eldest of the nightwalkers in Hungarian as we finally stopped before them.

“We’re here to enjoy a midnight swim,” I replied easily in Italian. My Hungarian was still too rough, and traditionally, Italian announced to any nightwalker that you were from the coven. Unfortunately, this pronouncement didn’t go over as I expected. The three nightwalkers looked at each other in confusion, clearly unable to understand what I had just said to them. In fact, I was stunned speechless when Valerio finally had to repeat what I had said in Hungarian.

This is wrong,
I said, directing my thoughts to both Valerio and Stefan.
They are all more than a century old. Should they have not all appeared before the coven already? At the very least, the oldest should have been brought before the Elders. Has the tradition stopped here in Europe?

No,
Valerio replied, his tone betraying some concern. All nightwalkers eventually appeared before the coven. All nightwalkers first learned Italian by pleading for their lives in that elegant language.

“He cannot enter,” the oldest of the three declared, pinning Danaus with a dark gaze. “Only magic users are permitted inside.”

“What must he do to prove that he’s a magic user?” Valerio inquired before I could argue. I was already growing weary of this trio, but then I was just another spoiled nightwalker long used to getting her way.

“He must cast a powerful spell of some sort on one of us,” one of the nightwalkers said with a disbelieving smirk.

“Fine,” I snapped in Hungarian. “Danaus, kill that one.” I pointed to the one who had spoken. He simply smiled at Danaus and me. For a moment I almost pitied him because he couldn’t sense the energy that circled around the hunter, but my pity for him dissipated before it could fully form.

I can’t do it, Mira,
Danaus whispered in my mind, stunning me. I looked over at him, struggling to keep my mouth from falling open. This nonsense from a creature that seemed to chomp at the bit every time I tried to restrain him from killing a nightwalker?

What are you talking about? Boil his blood. Gaizka won’t benefit from that bit of magic,
I argued.

It’s not that. I’ve never killed a nightwalker that didn’t attack me first.

You must. If you don’t, we’ll have to leave you behind, and then all three of them are going to attack you.
When the hunter continued to frown at me, I finally relented.
All right, boil his blood until he begs for mercy. You don’t have to kill him.

Satisfied with that arrangement, which shocked me more than I cared to think about, Danaus raised his hand toward the nightwalker I had indicated. Around me, I could feel his power swelling in the air, warming me like the summer sun breaking through the clouds. The smile slid off the lips of the young nightwalker and he looked down at his bare hands. The skin undulated as if something were crawling beneath the surface. With a whimper, he threw off his long coat as he ran out into the snow. His long fingernails tore at the bare flesh on his arms, revealing blood that popped and hissed as it boiled just beneath his skin. He released a bloodcurdling scream as he dropped to his knees and plunged both arms into the calf-deep snow, trying to cool the heat that was steadily building within his body, but it wasn’t enough.

Closing my eyes, I reached out for the stream of energy flowing between Danaus and the nightwalker. I gathered up my own powers and merged them with the stream, giving the spell a little boost without directly controlling Danaus. The nightwalker shrieked, his body twisting and contorting at odd angles before he finally flopped back into the snow, silent and dead. We had completely melted his organs, destroying his heart.

I didn’t mean to do it,
Danaus whispered to me.
I lost control.
I could feel the horror rolling off him. He only killed nightwalkers in self-defense in his mind. This had been murder.

It wasn’t your fault,
I murmured back to him, but then quickly dropped the connection. Now was not the time to explain that I was attempting to manipulate Danaus’s powers in accordance with Nick’s orders.

“What did he do?” demanded the youngest of the two, taking a step back away from the hunter.

“Boiled his blood,” I murmured, still starting at the dead body as I thought about the ease with which I’d been able to amplify Danaus’s ability. It had been far too easy, now that Nick had adjusted my own sensitivity to the energies around me.

Turning my attention to the two remaining nightwalkers, who were still staring at their dead companion, I waved my hand and the young one was instantly engulfed in flames. He managed to run a few feet away, hurrying toward the snow to put himself out, but the fire ate through his body faster than he could stumble. He collapsed at the edge of the drive, his body little more than a hot ember.

The remaining nightwalker pressed his back against the wall next to the doors, his eyes wide with fright. “You may live to tell your mistress that the Fire Starter, two Ancients, and a hunter are knocking at her door and we will come in,” I snarled in rough Hungarian. My translation was close enough because he grabbed the door handle and jerked the old, heavy door open before darting inside in a blur of movement.

“You’re a coven Elder,” Valerio reminded me needlessly as he reached for the door and held it open for me. “You really should introduce yourself as such.”

Stepping inside, I threw him a dirty look. “Normally, yes, but these pathetic creatures haven’t been before the coven. They don’t know what it means to be an Elder. Fire Starter is self-explanatory.”

Valerio flashed me a wry grin. “True.”

My trio of companions fanned out behind me as we stalked through the interior of the Széchenyi Baths. The walls were painted a pale yellow accented with white columns and ornate molding. The sound of laughter and splashing water echoed through the cavernous halls, forcing me to check several times as to how many people we were facing. Up ahead, the concentration of power was impressive. There had to be more than a dozen nightwalkers, along with a scattering of both lycanthropes and other human magic users.

As we crossed through a final archway, we came to a large room that held an enormous pool. Steam rose up from the water, filling the air with a heavy mist, which helped to diffuse the dim lamplight that glowed from above and in remote corners around the room. Nightwalkers, lycanthropes, witches, and warlocks, lounged in the water and along benches. We were the only ones still wearing clothing. At the far end of the room, the nightwalker I had spared was kneeling next to a female nightwalker lounging on a heavily padded divan. Her damp pale skin glistened in the thin lamplight.

“I’m guessing that’s Odelia,” I muttered, shoving my hands into my pockets.

“Astute observation,” Stefan commented from behind me, making me wish I could just singe him a little bit. Unfortunately, I was willing to bet that I still needed his assistance before I could finally escape this city.

Frowning, I led the way across the room, weaving my way between the naked bodies. A few looked up at us, halting their conversations, but most seemed content to ignore our presence within their nighttime refuge. When we were standing before Odelia, the nightwalker languidly rolled onto her back and propped her head up on her hand while resting her elbow on the back of the raised side of the divan. The nightwalker from the front door backpedaled, quietly edging away from our group. Fear still filled his eyes, making him more than a little wary of us. I preferred it that way.

“You must be the Fire Starter,” Odelia announced in heavily accented English.

“And you’re Odelia,” I replied, balling up my fists in the pockets of my heavy coat. I was fighting the urge to strip it off. The heat in the bath was stifling, but I kept telling myself that we wouldn’t be there too long. I could suffer through it.

“You’ve heard of me?” she inquired, arching one eyebrow at me.

“Not until five minutes ago,” I admitted, crushing her little hopes to dust. “Heard of me?”

“Who hasn’t?” she said with a delicate snort. “The nightwalker that can start fires with a thought also has a human that can apparently boil the blood of any creature he sees. It makes for a nightmarish combination.”

“Oh, and it gets worse,” I said, a grin finally blossoming across my face. “I’m now an Elder of the coven.”

“Oh,” she whispered, sitting up just a little straighter. At least she was old enough to know what it meant to be a member of the coven. It was a position that didn’t just demand respect, it screamed for it even as it killed you. “I didn’t realize that Tabor’s seat had been claimed.”

“The news is still spreading throughout the various domains, though I am surprised that it has yet to reach Budapest. You’re not that far from Venice.”

“I apologize for your less than gracious welcome,” she said, rising to her feet. “I had no idea that a member of the coven would be gracing us with her presence. Can I offer you a seat? Or maybe some refreshments? I like to keep a warm meal on hand for anyone who gets thirsty while at the baths.”

“I’m afraid this isn’t a social call. I am looking for the keeper of this domain,” I announced.

Odelia’s face crumpled as she returned to the edge of her divan. She folded her long fingers together and placed her hands on her knees. A lock of her long brown hair fell over her shoulder, partially covering her left breast. “Budapest doesn’t have a keeper.”

“How can a region this large, filled with nightwalkers, not have a keeper?” I snapped, growing more irritated the longer I remained in this bloody city. “There are more powerful creatures in this city than in most other large cities throughout Europe. By my guess, you’re more than six centuries yourself, and I know I’ve sensed others around the city that are older than you. Someone has to have laid claim to the region.”

“The last keeper of Budapest was a nightwalker by the name of Harold, but he left the region unexpectedly more than a century ago. No one has heard from him and no one has stepped forward to take over the city,” she explained with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Odelia pushed backward so that she was once again lounging on the divan. “In truth, we haven’t had a need for a keeper. The city remains quiet, and as you can see, the various races get along just fine.”

“And the naturi?”

Odelia’s eyes dropped down to the ground and she chewed on her full lower lip. “They moved into the city just about a month ago and we haven’t been successful in getting rid of them. We’ve learned to hunt in packs now, and the lycans stay away from certain parts of town where they have been known to gather.”

“Who is taking care of the naturi?” Valerio inquired, slipping graciously into Hungarian. Odelia turned her gaze on the oh so sauve nightwalker and smiled coyly up at him. I thought I was going to be sick.

“His name is Veyron,” she purred. “He is the oldest of the nightwalkers within Budapest, and he’s taken on a sort of brotherly role in the city, watching over the younger nightwalkers.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Stefan interjected. “He’s not yet an Ancient.”

To my surprise, Odelia actually glared at Stefan for just a blink of an eye before smoothing out her expression once again to smile up at Valerio. “He is the oldest of us all.”

“Which makes for a very young group of nightwalkers,” I observed. “How is it that such an old city has not attracted more powerful nightwalkers?”