Dawnbreaker dd-3

by Jocelynn Drake

  “Jabari, this is all new to me,” I quickly said. I pushed my free right hand through my hair, trying to move it from in front of my eyes, but pain sliced through my body at the movement. My body was still healing. “I’m not sure what I can do.”

  The Elder raised his hand above my head and I jerked to my feet instantly, like a puppet on a set of marionette strings. I hung in the air, my body trembling with his power pumping through it. A new pain wracked my frame, and it was all I could do to swallow back a whimper. I was exhausted. With Jabari’s energy flowing through my body, there was no way I could call in the power of the earth to even defend myself. It was either one or the other. The two could not coexist within my system.

  “What?” I snapped at him, lifting my head so I could finally look him in the eye. “Afraid that you had lost the ability to control me? No, I’m not that lucky! I’m still a puppet on a string for you.”

  “And this power from the earth you can now wield?” he inquired, almost politely.

  I shook my head. “Only under special circumstances, like when they perform a sacrifice. I need there to be a lot of energy in the ground for me to access it. I also can’t control it when a member of the triad is trying to control me. Blood magic and earth magic just don’t mix.”

  “Hmmm…” he softly said, cocking his head to one side as he looked me over. I was ragged with my torn, bloodstained clothes. My skin was covered in blood and dirt, while my hair was wind-blown and matted. I didn’t look like someone who had defeated Aurora and the great naturi horde. Had I finally outlived my usefulness? Or could he still find some other dirty task for me to complete that put my life and the lives of those around me at risk?

  “I guess it’s lucky for you that the triad is no more.” He lowered his hand and I collapsed to the ground like a heap of garbage. I watched him walk away a couple feet and then completely disappear. I noticed then that the sky had lightened to a pale shade of gray. The dawn was coming.

  I lay on the cool grass, waiting for the sun to rise. I could feel no other nightwalkers in the region. But it didn’t matter. At that moment I was ready for death. I had done my great deed; closed the doors and, if I was extremely lucky, killed Aurora. Whether I had earned Heaven or Hell, if they even existed, no longer seemed important. I just wanted to sleep, preferably forever.

  “Get up, Mira,” commanded an achingly familiar voice.

  I tried to smile but it came off lopsided, as I could only muster the strength to lift one corner of my mouth. “Go away, Danaus. I’m not in the mood to kill you,” I murmured, giving up on trying to open my eyes. I could feel him near me, standing a few feet away.

  “The sun is going to rise soon,” he reminded me, needlessly.

  I ignored his statement. Why state the obvious? Jabari had left me to burn up in the sun. It wouldn’t be that bad. I’d be asleep before the sun rose. I wouldn’t feel a thing. There were worse ways to go. I should know—I’d inflicted a number of them on my own kind.

  “I thought you were killed,” I said, when I could finally speak past the lump that had grown in the back of my throat. When his presence suddenly disappeared while I was fighting the naturi, I could only assume the worst—that he had been killed. There was no time to look around for him, no time to go back and check for a pulse.

  “Knocked out,” he said. He shook his head as he came into view, standing over me as I lay in the grass. “I think Jabari actually protected me a couple times,” he admitted.

  “I guess he still has a use for you,” I said ominously, cracking my eyes open so I could look up at the hunter.

  “I’m sure he’ll have a use for us both until he has secured his total control of the Coven,” Danaus said with a frown. “Now, get up.”

  My eyes fell shut as I thought about the world that still lay ahead of me. I was still the puppet of Jabari and Danaus. I was a member of the nightwalker Coven, upon which I had no doubt that both Macaire and Elizabeth wanted me dead. The naturi were running loose, regardless of whether they wanted us dead or not at this exact moment. Oh, and there was still Our Liege’s plan to speed up the Great Awakening to this upcoming year, revealing to all the world that nightwalkers and lycanthropes truly did exist, creating a great war among the various races.

  I felt weighed down, as if all the world were resting on my chest. I had no desire to move, no great desire to keep moving and fighting and risking death. I was tired. I was done.

  “Go away, Danaus, please,” I murmured with a soft sigh.

  “You can’t give up. The naturi are loose,” he said. I heard him kneel beside me in the grass, his voice sounding closer.

  Exhausted, I forced my eyes open to look at the hunter. His face was haggard and his eyes were tired, but somehow he found the energy to keep moving. “Go back to Themis. Tell Ryan. Tell him everything,” I said. The warlock had to know everything before it was too late. Ryan would be able to warn everyone about the escape of Aurora and the rest of the naturi. The warlock had to be told about Our Liege’s plans for the Great Awakening. I didn’t want a war, but the lycans and all the others couldn’t be blindsided when naturi finally stopped fighting among each other and decided that it was time to attack the other races once again.

  With a soft grunt, Danaus lifted me into his strong arms and stood. I cried out softly at the sudden movement and clenched my eyes shut again. I don’t know how long he carried me; time seemed to slip away as I struggled to hang onto my conscious thought. The lodge was too far away to make it before the sun rose. It was only when the air suddenly became bitterly cold and it grew dark again that I realized he had taken me to the Temple of the Moon. It was on a cliff on the side of the mountain that rose up beside Machu Picchu, with caves reaching deep into its bowels. There, I would be safe from the far-reaching rays of the sun.

  Danaus laid me on the ground and then sat down, heaving a heavy sigh. I opened my eyes but had trouble making out his face in the darkness. He slid his hand down my arm and took my hand in his, squeezing it lightly. There was no rush of power threatening to peel my flesh from my bone, just his warm skin pressed to mine.

  “Our battles are not completed,” he murmured. “But you’ll have to take a rain check. I’m not up for killing you right now.”

  I wanted to laugh. The bastard made one of his few jokes and I didn’t have the energy to laugh. The best I could do was pass out again, holding his hand.

  Epilogue

  Music screamed from the dance floor, throbbing against the walls with its deep bass, moving dancers who longed to forget about their broken hearts and disappointing lives. I stared at the black-clad people crowding the Dark Room. The dimly lit dance club was packed, but that wasn’t surprising for a Friday night. I had come here to forget about what had happened among the white-gray stones of Machu Picchu. But I wasn’t having much luck. The memories seemed to lurk around every corner of my brain. A phantom pain had even developed in my back from where Rowe stabbed me, even though the wound had healed, leaving behind only a pale white line to match the one on my chest left behind by Cynnia.

  Two months ago I had awoken in the caves linked to the Temple of the Moon alone and sore, but still “alive.” A testament to my own dumb luck. Stumbling down the mountain, I’d gotten back to Cuzco and grabbed a private plane back to my beloved Savannah. The world shuddered and bemoaned the loss of so many lives at the historic site, but the public relations engines were already churning. A group of political insurgents were blamed for the deaths at both Machu Picchu and Ollantaytambo, and any questionable evidence, like the charred bodies of the naturi, was quickly swept under the rug. Questions were still being asked and the Internet hummed with speculation, but our secret was safe for now.

  Yet even that certainty now hung perilously close to destruction. While the doors had been closed between our world and that of the naturi, many had still slipped through and were lurking in the shadows. Aurora was in our world. I knew she wasn’t dead, no matter how much I wanted it to be so. H
er people would have found a way to heal the wound. I cursed myself and my own weakness. I should have ignored Rowe and finished the job. I should have cut out Aurora’s heart, leaving Rowe to cut out my own. But I was weak.

  The queen of the naturi had yet to act, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she formulated a new plan of attack. She had her own kind to contend with at the moment. But I had no doubt that I was at the top of her to-do list. I awoke with a start every night, half expecting to find a naturi standing over my bed with a stake in its hand.

  For now, my only concerns were staying “alive” and my newly formed family. Tristan remained sullen and dejected about Sadira’s death. He was accustomed to playing the role of the doting servant. I didn’t want anyone under foot and didn’t need a servant. But I let him stay. Something in his eyes reminded me of Michael, whose body had yet to be found. I couldn’t imagine who had taken it, and a part of me was waiting to see it suddenly appear, grossly mangled and decayed. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t save my angel, but I could try to teach Tristan ways to save himself. It would have to be enough.

  Amanda and Knox had resumed their lives in Savannah with little change, even though they seemed to watch over me a little more closely than before. We all seemed more cautious now that the naturi were lurking in our world. No one appeared willing to hunt alone, and our relationship with the shifters was irreparably torn and shredded.

  The song on the dance floor changed to something slower, more melancholy. I scanned the crowd. I wasn’t in the mood to hunt and didn’t particularly need to feed. Strangely enough, I was growing bored. I had missed my city, but now that I was here, I felt restless. I shut myself away from the rest of my kind but Tristan in an attempt to be alone, but I now felt an eagerness to be moving again. Too much had been left unanswered after Machu Picchu, and I was forced to wait for others to act. A part of me wished to see Danaus stride through the door, a frown on his dark face, with news that something horrible had happened. But even he disappeared after Machu Picchu.

  A new emptiness had swelled in my chest when I thought of him. The world had grown colder in his absence. Somehow I’d become accustomed to the warm brush of power that emanated from him, the feel of his thoughts and emotions standing on the outskirts of my mind.

  With a sigh on my lips, I was about to leave the Dark Room to look for a quieter spot to pass the evening when I felt someone vaguely familiar enter the dance club. Tristan stepped through the entrance and visually scanned the dimly lit club for me, but he wasn’t the one that had piqued my attention. I paused and sniffed the air, catching the faint hint of a cologne I hadn’t smelled in a while. Slowly, I lifted my feet from where they rested on a chair and placed them on the floor as I sat up. My eyes immediately fell on a slim face that put a smile on my lips. James Parker sidled past a large tattooed man with purple hair, his hand nervously straightening his dark blue and red tie. The gold-rimmed glasses of the Themis researcher glinted in the pale smoky light.

  My tongue flicked across my teeth and I smiled, fangs slipping past my lips. Danaus would never have sent the Themis researcher into my domain. He would have come himself if he wanted something. However, the white-haired warlock Ryan could be interested in playing, and he would be the one most likely to send an emissary to fetch me.

  Maybe my night was looking up after all.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to give a special thanks to the dynamic duo that sees me through every book. To my amazing agent, Jennifer Schober, and my brilliant editor, Diana Gill, thanks for all your help and support. I would also like to thank the Florence, Kentucky, Geek Squad for seeing me through some unexpected computer-related trauma. Thanks for your patience and hard work.

  About the Author

  By day, JOCELYNN DRAKE is a clean-cut financial analyst writer, but in her free time she writes about a dark underworld where vampires rule. The bestselling author of Nightwalker and Dayhunter, she lives in Kentucky.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

  By Jocelynn Drake

  The Dark Days Novels

  NIGHTWALKER

  DAYHUNTER

  DAWNBREAKER

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