Around us, more nightwalkers closed in. They were now leaning against the trees that lined the sidewalk and lounging in the grass. A quick count revealed sixteen vampires of varying age; more than the usual welcoming committee.
“He belongs to me,” I said in a low voice, though I’m sure they all heard me.
“You’ve gotten greedy, Mira. First Tristan and now the hunter,” Gwen said, taking a couple slow, cautious steps toward me again. “You’ve been away for too long. Forgotten your place. We’ve been promised a taste of the hunter.”
“I don’t share.” My soft voice was filled with enough lurid menace to give her pause in her steady approach.
“You will if the Coven commands it,” Gwen replied with a smug smile. The nightwalker was attractive enough, but her mouth bothered me. It was a large, shapeless thing, as if it were simply a giant slash across her face. And every time she spoke, an ugly wound reopened, marring her lovely features.
“Consider yourself warned,” I said, matching her smile with one of my own. “Touch him or Tristan and you will face me. There will be no hiding behind the skirts of your mistress.”
A haunting glow returned to her hazel eyes and her fangs glinted briefly in the lamplight. “You wouldn’t dare.” There seemed to be something hesitant and unsure in her expression, but she couldn’t back down with everyone watching.
“No?”
I dropped my hands to my sides with my palms open. Out of the ground sprang two dozen snakes made of bright orange fire. The horde slithered around us once then shot out along the ground in all directions, chasing away the nightwalkers. No one was caught by my fiery serpents, and I extinguished the flames when the other nightwalkers were a comfortable distance away. Only Valerio remained behind. He had jumped onto the street lamp, with his feet braced against the pole while one hand clasped the top. Fury contorted his handsome features and the light reflected in his eyes.
“You’re forbidden to use fire here!” he shouted. A fire snake slowly slithered around the pole, waiting for its prey to descend. I extended my right leg so that only the tip of my boot touched the ground. The snake instantly changed directions and came back to me. It wriggled up my leg and wrapped around my waist once before disappearing.
“We’ve been betrayed. All bets are off,” I replied in a hard, cold voice.
“Yes, we have,” he said, his dark gaze locking on Danaus. His words cut through me. I knew it looked like I was betraying our kind to the one who had hunted us for centuries. I could have told him that Danaus had protected Sadira, Tristan, and even Jabari in England, but I would have been wasting my words. Actions were the only thing these creatures believed. Words were just neatly packaged lies.
“When the day comes that you have to choose a side, ask yourself who will be willing to protect you,” I called back, drawing his grim gaze back to my face. Tonight alone, I had sworn to protect not only another vampire, but a human, from the Coven. Any protection offered by the Coven was a flighty, mercurial thing at best, which seemed to change each time the sun set. I still hadn’t been forgiven by Valerio, but at least I’d given him something to think about. It was a start.
We traveled the rest of the way to the main hall unmolested. That’s not to say we weren’t surrounded by a sizable group of very pissed-off nightwalkers. At the moment, however, they were content to let the Elders work me over first.
SEVEN
The Great Hall of the Coven was near the opposite side of the island from where we docked but still a distance from the shore, so that any one landing would be forced to walk at least a few dozen yards before reaching the main doors. The large three-story building was made entirely of dark gray stone and resembled an old fort with its long, slender windows reflecting the pale moonlight. It rose up from the interior of the island like a cold, silent guard refused eternity’s rest. There were no lights leading up to the building, nothing to welcome the curious if someone happened to be on a leisurely stroll around the island.
Walking up the main stairs, a pair of heavily muscled men pulled open the massive wood and steel doors. There were other humans about the large building, a collection of servants and pets. And when the need called for it, food readily on hand. It was better than worrying about grabbing a bite from the nearby hotel when dawn drew close.
The two doormen barely earned a glance as I strode past them and down the long, dim hall to another set of doors. A heavy pounding echoed through the entryway as the front doors were closed, the sound bouncing off the walls as it flew up to hammer against the high ceiling. A chill skittered along my spine but I said nothing as I suppressed the old memories that attempted to crawl into the forefront of my mind. Clenching my fists at my side, I forced myself to take a step through the open doorway leading into the main throne room. I didn’t let myself look back at Danaus for any kind of encouragement, though I wanted it. I just kept moving, my eyes never wavering from the trio sitting on the slightly raised dais at the other end of the room.
The cold, uneven stone that comprised every inch of the entryway gave way to jaw-dropping opulence in the main hall. Shiny black marble floors gleamed in the candlelight as if a lake of liquid night stretched out before us. The three-story ceilings disappeared in the darkness, as the flickering candlelight could not penetrate the inky blackness overhead. The Coven had found a way to cage the night itself, but had yet to find a way to stop the passage of time.
There were no windows in this room, making it a safe hiding place from the dawn if necessary, but the main sleeping chamber was several meters below ground. The walls were covered in exquisite paintings, tapestries, and flags—a collection of art almost as old as man. From the ceilings hung gold and crystal chandeliers that flickered and twinkled with candlelight. Yet as beautiful as it was, it was also cold and silent. The room somehow managed to have the feel of both an elegant ballroom and a dusty mausoleum.
At the end of the hall, three small steps led to a raised platform that held four intricately carved gold-leaf chairs. In the middle sat Jabari and Macaire, while Elizabeth rest in the chair to the far left. The chair on the far right next to Jabari remained empty. It had belonged to Tabor. That vacancy seemed all the more ominous now that I’d walked in with a nightwalker hunter. While no one on the Coven had said anything to confirm it, some believed that Tabor was killed by Danaus, while others believed he was killed by another Ancient who refused to step forward, fearful of crossing Jabari. I’d begun to wonder if the slaying had been completed by the naturi. What better way to ensure that we couldn’t protect the seal than to destroy the triad that had created it? Yet now, with the presence of the naturi in the main hall, an even darker theory began to take shape in my mind.
Behind the set of four chairs was another set of three stairs and a smaller dais. On this platform rested just one chair, made of wrought iron with a red velvet cushion. That chair belonged to Our Liege. It was empty as well. I stared at that empty spot for several seconds before finally dragging my eyes down to the Elders. I had yet to meet Our Liege, and while I wasn’t particularly comforted by the fact that he was missing now, I was glad that I would not meet him for the first time under the current circumstances.
At the center of the room, I stopped walking and bowed my head to the Coven. It was polite but not overly subservient. I was treading on thin ice already. Jabari was more than a little pissed at me if he was looking to create my replacement, and I had never gotten around to playing nice with Macaire or Elizabeth, so there was no help to be found there. My goal was to not slit my own throat in the first five minutes, while I tried to keep the others around me alive. Danaus wisely remained a step behind my left shoulder and did not move. In fact, I wasn’t even sure he was still breathing. However, by remaining behind me, I felt reassured that he was willing to follow my lead in this intricate tango. Well, at least for now.