“Oh, MiMi,” he sighed, rubbing his left eye with the heel of his left hand. “There you are. They just started killing us.” His voice was surprisingly soft despite his large barrel chest, but it held a mountain of sorrow.

“Who? Who did this?”

“I—I don’t know,” he said with a shake of his head. “I had never seen them before. Two men came in. No, it was two teenagers with long brown hair and green eyes. They were…they were…” Jonathan paused and stared straight ahead, blinking rapidly for a moment as if trying to clear his vision, or maybe just his memory. “They were looking for someone. Nathan somebody, I think. We didn’t know this person, so they started—”

“It’s okay,” I said, taking his large hand in mine as his voice cracked. I could guess at what happened, but there was no way a pair of teenagers could cause this kind of damage and create this level of fear. Not even if they walked in with Uzis, and not once had I picked up the image of gunfire in anyone’s thoughts.

There was more to this tale. I didn’t think Jonathan was lying to me. His mind was just struggling to make sense of what he’d seen. Carefully, I slipped into his thoughts, reviewing his memories. Two slim, graceful figures waltzed in. Their longish blondish-brown hair fell around their faces, but I could see their almond-shaped green eyes and catch glimpses of high cheekbones. It was a safe bet that Jonathan’s mind had already blurred the sight of anything else that didn’t quite make sense to him. Naturi, possibly from the wind clan, from their graceful movements. However, their use of fire to consume the place made me wonder if one of them was from the light clan. If members from either of the two upper clans were out searching, this was serious.

“Nerian,” I whispered.

Jonathan’s hand jerked in my grasp and his gaze jumped back to my face. His brown eyes widened. “Yes, that’s it. Nerian. Do you know him?”

“He’s dead.”

Jonathan took a step away from me, pulling his hand from my grasp. “They’ll be pissed, Mira!”

“I’ll handle them.”

As I slipped away from Jonathan, I raised the enchantment back around me and wiped his memory of our conversation. Weaving through the crowd of onlookers, firefighters, medical workers, and police, I slipped unnoticed into the Docks. The walls and ceiling in the main bar were blackened by the fire, but the worst of it appeared to be toward the back.

Around me, bodies were strewn about, their limbs lying at strange angles. Some had died quickly with their necks broken. Others had been stabbed and left to bleed to death. More than a dozen were killed. It appeared that after the naturi failed to get the information they wanted, they set fire to the room that held the dance floor, and several had died in the chaos and ensuing stampede.

Walking back toward the dance floor, I paused at the table Danaus and I had sat at only an hour ago. It was blackened but unburned. Around the scar in the wood from the naturi dagger, several symbols were written in blood. More symbols from the naturi language. I was willing to bet they were tracking down Nerian through the blade.

By now they would know that he was dead. If Danaus was as good as he seemed, he would be able to take care of a couple of naturi. Besides, the naturi had been gone for a while now, and the night was wasting away. The hunter was on his own.

Turning away from the table, I slowly gazed around the room. Faces I had seen on a regular basis during the past few years were being covered with white sheets. For so many, I didn’t know their names or histories, but they had been a part of my domain, a part of my home. The naturi had stolen them from me.

Destruction, death, and fear; that was all the naturi had to offer both nightwalkers and humans. I knew vampires weren’t a great alternative, but at least we had learned to coexist. If the seal was broken and the door opened, the naturi would reduce the world to a blackened shell much like the Docks. From that, they would build their world, one exclusively for the naturi.

As I walked back toward the front door, the table burst into flames. No evidence could be left behind of their existence. When I returned home, I would burn the T-shirt I’d used to wipe off the naturi blood. Things were beginning to spiral out of control and it was all starting in my domain—this I would not allow. I had to make plans fast if I was going to crush the naturi once again.

The Dark Room was more than a mile south of my current location, within the confines of the Victorian District, with its elegant stained-glass windows and gingerbread trim. It was the only nightclub in the region. It was also the only nightclub that catered almost exclusively to the other races, and for very good reason. When the various races got together, accidents tended to happen. During my reign in Savannah, I had burned down two other incarnations of the Dark Room because of fights and human deaths. We had finally learned to play nice together, as well as come up with some rules that worked, which included allowing the lycanthropes in the club except during the week of the full moon. Humans were allowed inside, but they had to be accompanied by nightwalkers.

I quickly walked to the Dark Room, where I knew I would find Knox. Along the way, I made several calls on my cell phone, making preparations as best I could before arriving at the club. Turning the last corner, I found a long line standing outside the club, consisting mostly of humans. Two large men with black T-shirts stretched across their muscled chests guarded the front door. One was a werewolf and the other a vampire, there to make sure that both races were treated fairly and allowed into the club.

As I approached, the eyes of the nightwalker flared slightly in surprise and he stepped away from the door to let me pass. “Mira,” he whispered. “It’s been quiet, I swear.”

I swallowed my rude comment and walked wordlessly past him and the crowd, which was now grumbling at my entrance ahead of them. Regardless of whether it rankled my nerves, I understood the bouncer’s comments. The last time I’d shown up at the Dark Room, I had to dispose of two nightwalkers who broke some of the more basic rules of the club—no feeding immediately outside the club and no turning a human on the premises.

I quickly passed through the narrow hall that held two empty coat check rooms and paused before the main floor. The Dark Room was a sanctuary of decadent luxury within the city. The main floor was dimly lit with small sconces around the room, casting a thick red light. The walls were lined with deep booths partially hidden by thick velvet curtains. The center was a massive dance floor, where creatures now swayed and writhed to the low, almost hypnotic music that swelled in the air. Where the Docks had been filled with fast and hard beats that created an almost frantic need within its occupants, the Dark Room was a slow seduction of the senses. The Docks was made for humans who wanted to pretend to be dark predators; the Dark Room was made for predators who didn’t want to hide what they were.

My eyes skimmed the room while I lightly reached out with my powers to search for Knox. The small bar on the left side was relatively empty, but that was normal. The only ones who ever used it were the lycanthropes and the human companions of the nightwalkers. Alcohol consumption was not what kept this place open. It was an exclusive club. All nightwalkers and lycanthropes that entered the club were on a members’ list and paid annual dues. Furthermore, if they ever brought in guests, there was a second set of dues that had to be paid. Attending the Dark Room was a status symbol, a sign that you had not only achieved other status, but also acquired some wealth. And the more guests you brought, the more money you had.