Pray for Dawn dd-4

by Jocelynn Drake

  As I stepped over the threshold, I was immediately swamped by the overwhelming hunger radiating from Mira. The world was washed in a red haze and there was a strange roaring in my ears, as if I were next to a rushing torrent of water. My vision swam and everything seemed off kilter. I laid my hand on the kitchen counter as I tried to get my bearings. Closing my eyes, I sucked in a deep breath and raised as many mental shields as possible, trying to block Mira’s presence. It wasn’t easy. The Fire Starter filled the air like smoke in a tiny nightclub.

  Getting my sense of balance back, I walked through the kitchen, briefly nodding to a strange Asian man hovering in the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway to the rest of the house. Mira had mentioned hiring someone to replace Michael, her fallen bodyguard, but I had yet to actually meet the man. Of course, now wasn’t the time.

  “Do it again!” Mira shouted, her voice carrying down the hall. She sounded positively angry, making this a potentially explosive situation. I peered in the open door to find books floating around the room as if they had grown invisible wings and decided to take flight. Mira stood in the center of the room with her hand wrapped around Tristan’s neck. The younger nightwalker was looking up at the books, his hands extended and shaking.

  “Rearranging your books?” I asked as I took a step into the room.

  Mira briefly glanced over her shoulder at me, and then turned her attention back to Tristan. “He’s been holding out on me,” she snarled. “He’s come here to kill me, take over my domain.”

  “I would never do such a thing,” Tristan said in a rough, strangled voice.

  “Lies!”

  “Mira, what’s going on?” I asked in a low, soothing voice.

  “He can move objects telepathically. He’s older than he claims to be,” Mira replied, her gaze once again slipping over her shoulder at me. There were dark circles under her eyes and a gray pallor to her skin. She looked nearly dead, as if she had neither eaten nor slept for days.

  “I’m barely over one hundred years old,” Tristan pressed. The trembling in his hands had increased as we talked. He was growing tired and wouldn’t be able to hold the books up in the air much longer.

  “Then how is it you can use psychokinesis?” she demanded, giving him a little shake. Her nails dug deeper into his throat, causing a small stream of blood to trickle down his pale flesh.

  “I don’t know! I’ve been able to do it from almost the moment I was reborn.”

  “Lies! I can’t! You’re lying about your age. Are you an Ancient?”

  “No!” Tristan shrieked, jerking backward at what I knew was an absurd suggestion. I couldn’t read nightwalkers as well as Mira could, but I was willing to bet my life on the fact that Tristan was no Ancient. I believed him when he said that he was barely over one hundred years old.

  “Mira, I believe him,” I calmly said. I walked into the room and placed my hand on her shoulder. “And you know that there has to be another explanation to all of this. Tristan is loyal to you. He would never do anything to threaten you.”

  Mira’s face twisted in thought, as if she were fighting something. I let my eyes slip nearly shut as I reached out and subtly tried to slip into her mind. I had to know if the naturi had found a way to influence her. Again, I was hit with an overwhelming red haze of hunger. Her mind was a swirling whirlwind of broken and shattered thoughts. I caught glimpses of horrific images and heard screaming voices, until I felt a shudder skitter through my own frame. I pulled away reluctantly. I couldn’t sense any naturi in the area or within her mind. There was only Mira and her memories.

  “Let him go, Mira,” I said, squeezing her shoulder.

  “But…” she said in a soft, unsure voice as her wide eyes stared up at me. I could suddenly feel her terror cutting through the hunger, filling her to the point that it was blocking out all rational thought.

  “Tristan won’t hurt you, I promise. I won’t allow it.”

  She turned her gaze back to the young nightwalker before finally releasing her hold on his throat. His pale skin had cuts from where her nails had dug into his flesh. Tristan lowered his arms, allowing the books to slowly float down to the floor. He looked up at me, gratitude in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. We both knew that we were still walking on eggshells around the Fire Starter.

  “Go to the kitchen and help Gabriel,” I said, giving him the opportunity to escape the room. “I’ll stay with Mira.”

  Tristan nodded and quickly slipped out of the room, but the motion seemed to snap Mira from her brief moment of calm. Her head snapped up and she jerked away from my grasp. She trained her angry gaze on me as she backed to the other side of the room.

  “Why? You want to try to kill me now?” she demanded, but before I could deny it, she whipped around to face an empty corner of the room. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about. Danaus would never touch her! He’s not like you.”

  “Who’s here with us?” I asked warily, wishing I could pull a knife from my side, but I was afraid that the appearance of a weapon would set her off.

  “Nerian,” she said in a low growl. At the same time, she did something very strange. She took a couple steps backward, with her hand behind her as if she was keeping someone behind her as a form of protection. Nerian wasn’t the only one that she claimed to see in the room.

  “Mira, Nerian’s dead,” I said firmly.

  “I thought so too, but he’s standing right over there,” she said, pointing with the hand that wasn’t still holding the imaginary figure behind her back. “He’s been with me all fucking day.”

  “What do you mean all day? Another dream?”

  “It’s not a dream! He’s standing right there!” she shouted, pointing at the open air again.

  Frowning, I walked over to where she was pointing and stood in the exact spot. “He’s not here, Mira. You killed him. In July, you came to my house. You ripped out his throat and you burned his dead body to white ash. Nerian is dead and gone.”

  The finger pointing at me began to violently shake as a single bloody tear slipped down her pale cheek. “But I can hear him. I can hear him laughing and mocking me. He’s convinced the others to kill me. To kill…”

  “Who else is here with you?”

  Mira looked down at the floor for a second, taking a step backward, as if to shield the invisible figure a little better. Her head suddenly snapped back to face me while her free hand pulled a long knife from a sheath at her lower back. “And you’ve come to kill us both as well!”

  “No, I haven’t! Mira, you’re talking nonsense.”

  “Of course you have. You’re a hunter. It’s what you do,” Mira sneered. With a scream, she lunged at me with her knife, preparing to separate my head from my shoulders. The only reason I survived the slash was that she was exhausted and not moving as fast as usual. I dove out of the way and rolled back to my feet, struggling not to draw a blade as well. I knew it would only make the situation worse.

  A faint glow lit the nightwalker’s eyes as she stalked me in the small room. There wasn’t anywhere for me to go, between the chairs and the large desk that dominated the room. I stood my ground, trying to think of some way of snapping Mira out of her delusion. She came at me again, blade singing in the air as it sliced downward. I dodged it again, but this time she came back with a stabbing motion for my stomach. I barely managed to capture her wrist with both of my hands, stopping the tip of the blade just before it punctured skin. She pressed forward with all her remaining strength, and slowly started to win.

  Clenching my eyes shut, I reached out with my powers and grabbed ahold of her. My energy flowed into her body, taking control of her. Mira let out another tortured scream that echoed through the house. She fought me, trying to push me out, but she was too weak. I hadn’t wanted to do this, but she had left me with no choice. Slowly, I got her to inch the blade away from my stomach before I was able to rip it out of her hands.

  To my surprise, she rallied enough strength to g
rab the front of my jacket and toss me across the room, where I slammed into the bookshelves. A cascade of books fell on my head and shoulders as I pushed myself up into a sitting position.

  “No!” she screamed, her face twisted in rage and fear. I looked down to find that I was sitting in the exact same spot she had been standing in only moments earlier. “You’ll not touch her.” Mira lifted both of her hands and massive balls of fire popped into existence. They spun around her body fast enough to make her hands dance slightly in the growing breeze. Her eyes glowed with a brighter light, but she seemed to grow even paler. She was going to collapse from exhaustion soon, but I was willing to bet that she had enough strength left to destroy me first if she wanted to. I could take possession of her again, but it would not get rid of the rage that was burning in her. It would not rid her of these enemies.

  “Mira, we’re alone in this room. Who do you think I’m threatening?”

  The glow dimmed slightly from her eyes, and she looked as if I had unexpectedly slapped her. “Calla’s here,” she whispered in a shaky voice. “He’s going to hurt Calla.”

  I had never heard the name before, but for some reason it caused my heart to stutter. Mira’s fear filled the room, pushing out the hunger for a moment. Whoever Calla was, she dominated Mira’s concerns. Her fear for Calla was enough to make her threaten the very people she trusted the most in the world, including myself.

  “Who’s Calla?”

  Mira lifted one hand to her head, which she shook as if trying to finally clear the clutter surrounding her thoughts. A couple more tears streaked down her cheeks and her other hand began to tremble. The balls of fire slowed in their course around her body.

  “Who’s Calla, Mira?”

  “She’s my daughter,” she whispered in a broken voice. “Please, Danaus, don’t hurt my daughter.”

  I stared at the nightwalker, afraid to speak. Mira had once told me that she had had a life before she had been reborn as a nightwalker. It had never occurred to me that she might have actually had a daughter. And right now, I didn’t want to be the one to tell her that her daughter had died centuries ago.

  Slowly, I crossed the room and stood before the nightwalker who had fought and protected me. Reaching above the fireballs that had stopped moving, I cupped her face with both my hands, wiping away her tears with my thumbs. She trembled at my touch, but didn’t try to move away as I forced her to look up at me. I could see the pain in her wide lavender eyes. I had to wonder if the hunger was driving her mad. It didn’t make sense that she refused to feed. My presence had never stopped her from feeding in the past. Why should it now? Unless there was some darker reason for her reluctance.

  “Mira, she’s gone,” I murmured, trying to put it as gently as possible. “Calla passed on centuries ago. She was your human daughter and she has already died. She’s safely away from Nerian and the reach of any other naturi.”

  “But…”

  “She’s not here,” I continued. My left hand swept up and pushed some red hair from her face. “I’m sorry. It’s just you and me, alone in this room. No naturi. No Calla.”

  “I saw them!”

  “No, you didn’t. They were just hallucinations. You haven’t fed for days. I can feel it. You need to feed before you hurt someone or yourself.”

  Mira blinked and confusion filled her gaze. The fear that had filled her seemed to be washed away and the hunger swam to the forefront again. She flinched at its sudden return, but I could feel her pushing it back. At one time, she had sworn that she would never feed off me and strangely enough I believed her when she made that vow. She was starving now, but I knew that she wouldn’t bite me if it was within her power not to. However, I think that decision was slowly slipping out of her grasp.

  “Danaus?” she whispered. “What’s happening to me?”

  “You need to feed. Gabriel’s here. Or you can go into the city and hunt. You have to do something before you kill someone.”

  “I—I can’t,” she said before jerking out of my grasp. The fireballs were instantly extinguished, seeming to plunge the dimly lit room into darkness.

  “This can’t go on,” I said, unable to believe that I was arguing for her to actually feed off of someone. However, the alternative was worse. A starved Mira was infinitely worse for this city and the world. She was hallucinating, her mind spiraling into paranoia and madness.

  I took a step toward her as she stumbled over to her desk. She picked up her cell phone from the top of the desk and quickly dialed a number.

  “I need you,” she said in a low voice. “I can’t wait any longer.” It didn’t seem as if she waited for a response before she hung up the phone.

  I started to walk toward the nightwalker, desperate to convince her that she needed to feed when there was a soft pop in the air near the doorway. I looked up to find Ryan standing there in his usual gray suit, while his pure white hair brushed his shoulders. His gold eyes lit on me before he looked over at Mira.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded, suddenly angry at his presence in Mira’s house. The warlock was supposed to be in England already, not still lingering in Savannah. This couldn’t possibly be a good sign.

  “I’m here to help Mira,” he said with a smile.

  “Leave, Danaus,” Mira ordered in a firm, cold voice.

  “I’m not leaving,” I replied, starting to raise my voice. “What’s going on here?”

  “I believe the lady said leave,” Ryan said, his smile widening. With a slight wave of his hand, Ryan magically lifted me off my feet and threw me into the open hallway. Behind me, the double doors to the library slammed shut, sending the noise echoing through the entire house. Mira was alone with Ryan, and there was no way I could stop whatever the warlock had planned for her.

  TWENTY-SIX

  I paced like a caged tiger, my footsteps muffled by the Persian rug that ran the length of the hallway. Upon regaining my feet, I had tried to open the doors and barge back into the room, but they had been magically sealed. I was not getting back into the room until Ryan was done with Mira.

  The warlock had a way of using people without their knowledge. Charismatic and deeply manipulative, Ryan always seemed to get exactly what he wanted with as little compromise on his part as possible. When he swept into Themis centuries ago, I had been content to let the researchers follow his lead. They were searching for information on the occult and nothing appeared to be more opportune than a powerful warlock offering to provide them with the inside information they sought.

  In the end, what did I care who they picked as their leader? So long as I was able to hunt nightwalkers and purge the earth of their evil, I didn’t care who was running Themis. But I should have cared. For two centuries, I watched Ryan use and manipulate creatures for his own benefit, seeming to suck them dry until they were nothing more than hollowed-out shells of hate and fear. The warlock fed my own hatred for nightwalkers, never seeing fit to disillusion me of some of my more erroneous beliefs about the species. My own burning hatred only served to blind me and tighten Ryan’s hold over me. His own personal executioner.

  And now the gold-eyed warlock had set his sights on the Fire Starter, one of the most powerful nightwalkers in existence. He couldn’t have her. I wouldn’t allow Ryan to use Mira in the same way he had used me. He was powerful enough alone. He didn’t need Mira fighting at his side.

  Turning back to the doors, I gritted my teeth and prepared to put my shoulder into the thick wood when I heard the soft metallic click of a lock being unlatched. One of the doors swung silently open and stopped. I lurched forward and shoved both doors open. Ryan was slumped in one of the chairs, his skin a sickly shade of white. His tie had been loosened and the left side of his neck lay bare. Mira leaned against the front of the desk, a flush to her pale face. The red haze that had filled the house had finally abated, with Mira’s hunger satisfied at long last. And yet, the circles under her eyes seemed darker now, with color in her face, and her fingers were sti
ll trembling.

  With a low snarl, I grabbed the lapels of Ryan’s coat and lifted him out of the chair to his feet. “Whatever you’re doing has to stop!” I shouted, giving him a hard shake.

  “He’s helping me,” Mira said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  “He’s not helping you,” I snapped, my gaze never wavering from the warlock. While he was not openly smiling at me, I could see the laughter in his eyes. “Ryan doesn’t help anyone but himself.”

  “Maybe helping Mira is in my best interest,” Ryan purred.

  I snorted in response, my fists tightening in the material of his jacket. I was ready to pitch Ryan through the nearest window if I thought for a second I could.

  “I need his help,” Mira said. Her hand squeezed my shoulder, and it was a fight to not shrug her off.

  “He’s made you dependent on him,” I argued. “You won’t drink from anyone else and you’re willing to starve yourself until you can finally get back to his side. What happens when he returns to Themis? You trail after him like the lapdog he wants you to be?”

  “It’s not like that,” Mira replied, releasing me suddenly.

  “No, not yet, but it will be,” I said. I threw Ryan back into the chair, sending it skidding loudly backward several inches. “Get out of here. Don’t ever come back.”

  Ryan smiled up at me, his eyes jumping with laughter. “As you wish,” he replied, and then disappeared.

  “No!” Mira screamed. She pushed past me, reaching for the warlock, but came up with only open air. “What have you done?” she cried, turning her horror-filled gaze on me. “You don’t understand. I need him.”

  “You don’t need his help,” I firmly said, helping Mira back to her feet from where she was kneeling before the empty chair.

  “Yes, I do. He’s given me my only edge over Aurora,” she adamantly argued as tears filled her eyes.

  “What are you talking about?” I said. Mira only looked away from me as she tried to walk back toward the desk. I grabbed both of her arms and held her in front of me. “How? What kind of an edge was he giving you?”