I’m coming. The thought was firm and resolute in my head. I could feel him moving, drawing closer.

No, it’s healing. Stay where you are. I—

I quickly ended the thought when I saw Nicolai leap through the fire, his arms raised to protect his face. A nightwalker would never have taken such a chance. We caught fire far too easily. When he landed on his feet, I immediately extinguished the fire, plunging the square back into utter darkness. I knew that the fire would have destroyed the lycan’s night vision, and I had only a couple of seconds before he could pierce the gloom again.

Grabbing a rock the size of my left fist, I darted across the square to his side in silence. My goal had been to hit him on the back of the head. If it worked for Danaus, it would work for Nicolai. But the werewolf sensed me at the last second, whether by a stir in the air or the sound of my clothes as I moved, I don’t know. He turned to face me and I ended up hitting him in the temple. He crumpled at my feet like a sack of wet noodles.

A scrape on the concrete snapped my gaze to the edge of the square, and I raised my left hand with the rock, ready to throw it at the intruder. Danaus stood in the shadows, his arms raised in surrender, a smirk on his lips.

“You’re a mess,” he murmured, earning a glare from me.

“Have a nice nap?” I sneered, dropping the rock.

The smirk dissolved from his lips, turning into a matching glare. I hurt too much to trade barbs with the hunter. There were more pressing concerns as the night continued to age.

I knelt down beside Nicolai but didn’t touch him. His chest rose in deep, even breaths and I could hear the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He would recover. Blood leaked from his temple, but I was sure that would stop soon enough. When I stood again, Danaus was on the other side of the unconscious lycan. “Check to make sure he’s still wearing his cross,” I said.

Danaus furrowed his brows at me but knelt wordlessly and pulled the man’s shirt collar away from his throat with one finger to reveal a gold chain and cross against tan skin.

“I don’t want someone else picking up the scent of his blood and making a snack of him,” I muttered as I turned and walked away. I once again cradled my arm against my stomach, the pain beginning to ease. The bone was mending, but the process was slower than healing a flesh wound.

“Why did Jabari send him?” Danaus asked, following behind me.

“I don’t know.”

“But the naturi—”

“I don’t know, Danaus. I don’t know what they’re planning, but I’m beginning to wonder if Jabari has something else in store for me,” I softly admitted. If I was needed to protect and make the seal that bound the naturi, it meant the Coven couldn’t have me killed. But after Nicolai’s attempt, it meant that either Jabari had finally made his replacement or the Coven no longer wanted to protect the seal. Or Jabari had plans for me that didn’t include the Coven or the naturi.

Standing on the pavement beside the boat, I looked across the Lagoon toward the bright lights of San Marco. Welcome back to Venice, Mira. In this dying city, pain and horror skulked in every shadow and around each corner, all held beneath a veneer of elegant, Old World beauty and civilization.

Danaus stood behind me and unexpectedly laid his hand on my right shoulder. My head darted over to look at the large hand as his warmth seeped through my cold flesh. At the same time, he dipped two fingers from his free hand into my front left pocket. I tried to jerk away from him in shock but was effectively trapped between his larger body and the open canal. My narrowed gaze snapped to his face. Danaus smirked again and dangled the key before my face.

“You’re in no shape to drive,” he said, then stepped into the boat. Frowning, I said nothing as I hopped into the little speedboat and settled into one of the seats. My arm was mostly healed, but I didn’t care. I was feeling ragged and worn from the encounter.

The engine roared to life as Danaus pulled us away from the island and back into the Lagoon, headed for Guidecca and our hotel. The sound of the wind and waves was relaxing, wiping the tension from my shoulders. I thought of Nicolai for a moment, wondering what it was that Jabari held over the werewolf.

I shook my head, not caring that no one was around to see it, lost to my own thoughts. Jabari was playing a game. I just didn’t understand his goal. Mine was unmistakable. Protect the peace. And the only way to do that was to destroy the Coven’s bargain with the naturi. I just had to figure out how.

TWELVE

Any reprieve I thought I might have earned after nights of running and fighting to stay alive had been adequately crushed. Now I just wanted a few minutes of quiet in which to think and try to anticipate Jabari’s next move. A sigh knocked against the back of my teeth but never managed to escape as Danaus and I stepped into our suite at the Cipriani. Instead of being faced with the sweet, cuddly scene of Sadira and Tristan, the rooms were empty. I hadn’t left explicit orders for them to remain in the rooms, but I didn’t sense them out hunting in the streets when I scanned the hotel area before leaving Torcello.

A heavy tension hung bloated and ugly in the air, pressing against my chest. Standing in the middle of the black and gray parlor, I struggled to keep from clenching my fists. The beautiful room with its elegant furniture and shiny marble floors was untouched—indicating that they walked out on their own.

I started slowly, hesitant. My powers spread from my body in a circle, reaching outward until I had covered the main islands of Venice. There was no Tristan or Sadira. Reluctantly, I pushed out across the Lagoon to San Clemente, where I found Sadira in the Great Hall. She wasn’t alone.

Her emotions were clear. She was calm, but sad. I still didn’t sense Tristan, but I knew he was there too. Someone was blocking my ability to sense him, and there was only one person who could do that: Tristan’s beloved maker, Sadira. A nightwalker could keep other nightwalkers from sensing him and his children as a type of defense mechanism. Only the older ones like Jabari could keep it up for nights on end. At best, Sadira could maintain the barrier for a couple of nights, but she didn’t need to hide him for long. She was only buying the others some time. And maybe so had Nicolai. Jabari might not have truly believed that the werewolf could kill me, but he knew that Nicolai could stall me for a time.

“Can you go inside a church? A still functioning church?” I asked Danaus. My low voice crept through the tense silence that filled the suite. Standing next to the sofa, I leaned down so my right hand tightly gripped the corner of one of the dark end tables, causing my newly mended forearm to ache. Danaus stood behind my left shoulder near the double doors to the suite. I didn’t bother to try to hide my frustration and anger. What was the point? He could sense my emotions if he wanted to.

“Yes,” he said. “What’s going on?” His heavy footsteps crossed the room to stop before his bag of weapons, which sat near the sofa. Placing the worn duffel bag on the coffee table, he unzipped it without looking up at me and started rummaging around for the one appropriate item that would destroy his enemy

My lips parted but my voice couldn’t quite push past the lump in my throat. I licked my lips and tried again, forcing my fingers to loosen their death grip on the table because they were starting to throb and I didn’t want to shatter the wood. “There’s something I need to take care of.” The words came out flat and emotionless despite the turmoil in my chest. I had to go back to San Clemente.

Looking over my shoulder at my dark companion, I found that his hard gaze never wavered from the flash of steel and leather as he dug through his bag of goodies. “Where’s Sadira and Tristan?”