Dawnbreaker dd-3

by Jocelynn Drake

  “So many dead. So many bodies,” she kept repeating. Those words haunted me as I wandered through the lodge. I counted more than two dozen within the sanctuary and another dozen on the front lawn and in the garden. Rowe had forced close to forty naturi to their death in an effort to kill me and free Cynnia before he finally gave up.

  Standing outside, I looked up at the peak of the lodge. It was blackened and smoldering slightly, but Shelly’s protective spells had held. Amazingly, we had all survived the day, and it was now time to make plans for the night. I was beginning to believe that surviving thus far had been the easy part.

  Twenty-Five

  The stench of the burning flesh from the funerary pyre we had erected in front of the lodge crept through the closed windows of the bedroom. Staring up at Machu Picchu, I tried to ignore the smell as best as I could, but there was nothing I could do to push away the image of the enormous pile of bodies that kept flashing through my brain. Thirty-seven naturi bodies had been located around the confines of the perimeter of the lodge. They were scattered everywhere; in the garden and throughout the Sanctuary Lodge. In addition to the naturi, twelve humans had also been killed. Five of them were guardians that had come with the nightwalkers, but seven were tourists, from what we could tell.

  The naturi had taken the time to tear open three of the humans and remove some of their organs. Another harvest. Rowe had proven on more than one occasion that he was apt at performing blood magic, some of which required the body parts of living creatures. I gritted my teeth, pushing back the swelling anger. I had a feeling that he’d killed the humans to simply prove he could, to prove that I couldn’t protect them no matter how hard I tried.

  When we awoke, the remaining naturi had retreated to Machu Picchu. Tonight it was our turn to attack their stronghold and stop their plans.

  Behind me, Danaus dropped his trusty black bag of weapons on the bed with an audible bounce of the springs. One of the humans Stefan contacted had been conscientious enough to grab it among the other bags we brought along. My small bag of clothing was missing, but I wasn’t concerned. A few items of clothing, sunglasses, a hairbrush, and a toothbrush were all easily replaceable—assuming I survived the next several hours at Machu Picchu.

  “We go forward with the original plan,” Danaus announced into the all too silent room. I looked over my shoulder at the hunter to find him taking a quick inventory before deciding what he would carry. “We go to the top of Machu Picchu and stop the naturi from opening the door.”

  A fragile smile drifted across my lips as I turned and leaned my shoulder against the cold glass of the window so I could still watch the burgeoning night through the corner of my eye. The nights in Peru were growing shorter as they struggled to escape the bonds to winter’s dark grasp and finally bloom into spring. Tonight was the spring equinox, here south of the equator in Peru—a time of new beginnings. Back in my home of Savannah, it was the first night of autumn—a time of endings and quickening decay. Either way, it was the key time for Aurora to return. Tonight, she planned to come through the door, triumphant, letting the change in seasons mark the beginning of her reign on Earth.

  It seemed grimly ironic that man’s savior would be the very thing that had filled his nightmares for centuries. But even that interesting twist of fate couldn’t lighten my mood. There was no levity to be found tonight, and I just wanted to finally have it all done.

  “And then we get back to the business of killing each other,” I said, turning to fully face Danaus, trying to break the fear.

  A crooked, half smile lifted his lips as he tossed me the gun holster he had originally given me months ago when we flew from London to Venice. “As God intended,” he murmured.

  During the next several minutes my fingers nervously slid over the various straps and buckles, checking that the shoulder holster was tightly cinched and that the sword lashed to my back wouldn’t slip as I moved. I made these same adjustments over and over again. It kept me from trying to pace the narrow little room, already dominated by a double bed, a rickety dresser, and a pair of worn, high-back chairs. After the lavish opulence of our suite at the Hotel Cipriani, the little room seemed plain and coarse, with its burnt orange walls and worn carpet. However, it was more than adequate for our brief and simple needs.

  Cynnia sat on the floor in the corner, her manacled wrists resting on her bent knees as she slowly rocked back and forth. The sight of her dead brethren had left her mute after her initial scream at the top of the basement stairs. Shelly sat silently on the edge of the bed. The index finger of her left hand kept tracing an infinity sign on the comforter. We were all lost to our own dark thoughts in these final hours.

  An unexpected knock at the door caused me to jump. I hadn’t been watching for anyone to approach. It was a good thing I wasn’t holding a sword. I would have probably lost a finger. I nodded to Danaus and he rose from where he was seated on the edge of the bed to open the door.

  Stefan stepped into the room as I fiddled with the Browning, his gaze carefully skipping over Danaus as he glided in. The handsome nightwalker wore a pair of jeans and black turtleneck against the cold wind, as if it could bother him.

  “I see you’ve finally pulled your people together,” he sneered. “We’re ready to leave now.”

  I turned my eyes to Danaus, who was glaring at Stefan’s back. “How many naturi?” I asked. I could vaguely sense them but had yet to hone that skill Danaus had obviously worked into a fine art.

  Stefan finally turned and looked at the hunter, waiting for his reply. Danaus continued to glare at the vampire, but I could feel his powers sweeping out of the room, shoving aside Stefan’s own powers as if they were an unwelcome guest. Stefan never moved, didn’t even flinch. Was I truly the only nightwalker that could feel Danaus’s powers? I didn’t want to know exactly how deep this connection between us ran, but I knew no good would ever come of it.

  “Almost fifty,” he replied, his voice distant.

  “Not bad,” Stefan said, unmoved by the number.

  “That’s not counting the two dozen lycans they’ve summoned to the mountain,” I added, dropping into one of the two high-back chairs.

  “You’re concerned about werewolves?” The laughter danced among his words as he arched one dark brow at me.

  “In London they sent both wind and earth clan naturi,” I said. “They will be prepared when we begin to climb the mountain to the ruins. Sending the lycans in is for their amusement, forcing us to kill our own allies.”

  “What are we facing now?” Stefan asked.

  I looked over at Danaus, but he shook his head. “I can’t tell which clan. It’s just a band of naturi gathered on the mountain.”

  With my eyes locked on the faded burgundy carpet, I frantically searched my memory. I’d spent centuries studying folklore and myth that had been handed down, looking for some kernel of truth to all the nonsense. The valuable information I had found within the journals kept by Jabari and a few of the other Ancients contained not only tales provided by the few nightwalkers that encountered the naturi and survived, but also information provided by the naturi themselves. Apparently, we had once been allies with the earth creatures.

  “I don’t know what we’ll see,” I said. “From what I’ve been able to gather, Aurora is a member of the light clan, while her consort Rowe is a member of the wind clan. So, I would assume most of the naturi on the mountain will be of the wind and light clans.”

  Turning, I looked down at Cynnia, who continued to stare off into empty space, oblivious to anyone in the room. I knelt down in front of her and grabbed her left shoulder, giving her a hard shake.

  “Cynnia!” I snapped. “What’s waiting for us on the mountain?” I demanded.

  Her unfocused gaze finally moved to my face, her eyes slipping over my features for a moment before she finally recognized me. Her upper lip curled at me in disgust and she jerked her shoulder out from my grip. “Why should I help you? You killed them. You killed my peo
ple.”

  “What choice did I have?” I growled. “They were going to come during the daylight hours and slaughter every last one of us. It was the only way to protect us, to protect you. Weren’t you the one telling me they thought you were a traitor and that they planned to kill you? Didn’t I save your life?”

  “But why did so many have to die?” she demanded, tears slipping down her face. “Couldn’t you have done this some other way? Could you have at least warned them?”

  “What? The blue-flame perimeter wasn’t enough of a warning that I wanted them to stay out of the lodge? Yes, Cynnia, I set a deadly trap to save our lives. But Rowe is the one that sent one naturi after another into the trap. He is the one that kept sending them even when it became obvious that the trap couldn’t be beaten. And when he was done, he decided to kill seven helpless tourists because he could. He killed the humans to get even with us!”

  “But—”

  “No!” I shouted at her. I leaned both my hands against the wall on either side of her head so she couldn’t escape me. “There are no ‘buts.’ Yes, I am a killer of naturi. I’ll kill however many naturi I have to, to protect what is mine, but what happened during the day—that was Rowe’s choice. Blame him for sacrificing the lives of your people.”

  Shelly shifted nervously, drawing my attention away from the shivering naturi in front of me. “Why would he sacrifice that many?” she asked.

  A smile drifted across my lips and I ran my tongue over my fangs as I looked over at Danaus and Stefan. “Because he’s desperate,” I said, slowly pushing to my feet again.

  Stefan nodded, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his pants. “We need to get moving. They may have begun already.”

  “Agreed,” I said, nodding. “Do you remember how to find the other entrance to the Incan Trail?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take half of the nightwalkers and humans up the Incan Trail.”

  “And where will you be?” he demanded, taking a step closer to me.

  “Danaus and I will take the other half up through the tourist entrance,” I replied.

  “My task is to protect you. That is all.” Stefan stood a little straighter as he spoke, looking down his nose at me. If he thought trying to increase his physical presence would cow me, he was sorely mistaken.

  “We have to attack them on two sides,” I countered. “Their goal will be to delay us until they can open the door and allow reinforcements through. You will take your group up the Incan Trail to the Main Gate. From there, head east and we will meet outside of the Temple of the Condor. Human sacrifices used to be conducted there.” I suppressed a shiver as memories of watching humans being slowly killed on a slab while their blood was captured in a basin swam to the forefront of my mind.

  “Is that where they will open the gate?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted through clenched teeth. “My guess is that it will either be there, at the Sacred Plaza, or in the Main Plaza. I’ve scanned the area as best as I can from here. They have more than a dozen humans spread about the city, so I can’t be sure.”

  “I will stay with you,” Stefan said with a shake of his head.

  I stepped away from Cynnia, closing the distance between us. Behind Stefan, just over his right shoulder, I could see Danaus taking up position, but I knew he wouldn’t move until I signaled.

  Standing so close to Stefan, I could easily meet his gaze, but he wasn’t the type to back off either. We were both too accustomed to having our way.

  “You are the oldest here,” I said, “and the only one who knows both the city and the naturi. I need someone intelligent to lead the second group.” He stared silently at me, carefully weighing my words. It was the truth. I could think of few others I would want trekking up the other side of the mountain. Stefan might not like me, but he had no problems ripping through the naturi. “If we attack them from two sides, it will force them to divide their people by thirds in order to take us both on and still guard the spell site. We’ll be able to destroy more of them.”

  He smiled slightly at me. “I can see why everyone was so confident that you would take the open seat on the Coven. Giving commands comes naturally for you.”

  “I never wanted a seat on the Coven,” I snarled. But it was too late for that. I was a Coven member, and it was time I started remembering it before it got me killed. But then again, my main concern was just trying to survive the next twenty-four hours so I could return to my own domain of Savannah.

  “Good,” he said, smiling wide enough to show off his fangs. That’s what I thought. Stefan was simply aching to make the thousand-year mark. He had set his sights on Tabor’s empty chair and had no qualms about taking the seat from me if I should fall during the fight with the naturi tonight.

  I chuckled and turned my back to him, wandering back to my chair. I stood beside it, my left hand resting limply on the back. “You’ll make an excellent Elder.”

  The smile instantly dropped from Stefan’s lips as he tried to figure out whether I was mocking him.

  “Mira.” Danaus’s deep voice drew my thoughts back to the task at hand. I looked over at the hunter and curtly nodded. No more talk. No more stalling, hoping for a last second miracle.

  “Let’s go.” I was surprised. My voice sounded firm and strong, confident even. I was a better liar than I had thought. Maybe I would make an okay Elder too.

  Twenty-Six

  It was the summer of 1468 when I first saw the white-gray stones of Machu Picchu, more than sixty years before the Incans would be nearly wiped out by the Spanish conquistadors. The Incans had just finished building their city in the sky with its more than forty rows of crops stair-stepping up the mountainside and numerous thatched buildings. The enormous stones were perfectly cut and placed together like an intricate puzzle first designed by the gods and later pieced together by man. Up among the clouds, the Incans reveled in the sweeping vistas of great mountains, worshiped the sun, and paid homage to the moon.

  However, that year, the Incan emperor Pachacuti anxiously watched the strange beings that had suddenly descended upon his mountain retreat. Their brown hair, golden skin, and amazing powers quickly marked them as great children of their sun god, Viracocha. Pachacuti was more than happy to serve the needs of the sun children, even if it meant human sacrifices. But these great beings had also left him in an awkward position. They held captive a daughter of the moon. While the children of the sun lounged in comfort around Machu Picchu, the moon’s child was chained and blindfolded at all times.

  During the day, I was kept deep in a dark, damp cave connected to the Temple of the Moon on the side of the mountain, hidden from sight and the far-reaching rays of the sun. And when I awoke each night, I was carried back to the funerary rock where I was tortured until dawn threatened once again.

  Now, after five plus centuries, I found myself once again standing in the shadow of Machu Picchu, and I was terrified. The Sanctuary Lodge was the only hotel within walking distance of the Incan ruins. Most tourists were shuttled in from Aguas Calientes after making the long trek from Cuzco. So far the government had limited all development in the immediate area in an attempt to preserve the region and its history. But I was sure that would all change soon. It was becoming a hot spot for tourists, and the country was looking for ways to take advantage of the growing interest.

  Stefan and I parted ways when we hit the road. I felt only a moment’s hesitation when my foot touched the soil outside the lodge, but there was no power waiting to steal into my frame. Cynnia had given me back a sense of balance among the various powers in the air. The earth still tingled, vibrated, and roared with energy, but it was no longer trapped within my frame. The earth energy pulsed through my body, causing my bones to ache and a pain in the back of my head to throb, but it was nowhere near the pain I had experienced earlier at the Palace of Knossos or at the flow at Ollantaytambo.

  As Stefan headed south to the ancient trail, I felt a good portion of the nightwalker
horde follow him, along with their human guardians. Those that remained watched tense and silent from the shadows. They were uneasy about being near Danaus or Cynnia. Much to her chagrin, Shelly had been left behind at the lodge with the instruction to head straight back to Cuzco at first light and then on to the United States without looking back. She had done a good job in watching over Cynnia while Danaus and I were otherwise occupied, but she was in no way capable of handling the coming fight. Despite her protests, my conscience simply wouldn’t allow it. And I knew Danaus wouldn’t allow it either.

  As I stepped through the tourist entrance, I pulled the Browning and Glock from their resting places beneath my arms, wishing I could actually clutch the sword still strapped to my back. Their cool weight felt surprisingly good in my hands. The guns might have lacked style and finesse, but they were still a deadly force. With them, I would take back control of my life one bullet at a time.

  The trail up the side of the mountain was narrow, forcing us to walk in single file. I took the lead, followed directly by Cynnia and Danaus, who held a scimitar in one hand and a short sword in the other. He was also carrying a gun holstered in the small of his back, while an assortment of blades were strapped to his body. He hummed with barely controlled energy. I wanted to snap at him to bring it back under wraps, but I bit my tongue. Usually, the warmth of his energy was soothing, but tonight it was just a reminder of how my night would end, blanketed in his powers as they tried to rip me apart.

  We proceeded slowly up the trail. The only sound in the cool night air was the crunch of gravel beneath our feet. I glanced up at the black sky and frowned. No moon shone above me. I never realized how lonely the night became without her there, throwing down her sweet, silvery light. The region was pitch-black except for a faint glow of firelight coming from the top of the mountain. There was a stir of magic tingling in the air, but not enough to indicate that the naturi had begun the spell.