“There are a few of us,” I whispered. “There are some ideas that not even death can kill.”

The hunter nodded once to me and left the room.

Kicking open my metal box, I lay down with one booted foot still on the jet floor. I wasn’t tired and it was still hours away from dawn, but I didn’t want to join the others. It had been a long time since I last spent this much time surrounded by humans. Of course, there were my nightly trips to the clubs, theaters, and other amusements, but when I had my fill of them, I was always able to walk away. I could return to my quiet sanctuary and let the silence fill me. Now I was up to my ears in vampires, humans, naturi, and whatever the hell Danaus was.

To make matter worse, I still didn’t understand what was going on. The naturi were attempting to break the seal and open the door between our two worlds. I didn’t know how they were doing it. All I knew was that I had to reform the triad and keep Sadira safe. Not a particularly enjoyable task, but it wouldn’t last long. Jabari would find Rowe and kill him. There would be no need for the triad. Soon it would all be over. I would go home and try to forget about it.

I ran my hands over the red silk that lined the side of the box, enjoying its smoothness. A part of me wanted to call for Michael. I wanted to feel his warm arms around me, reminding me of home and my life before this nightmarish escapade began. I wanted to make him moan and to erase the memory of the pain I’d caused him earlier.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t even raise my voice to utter his name. I had come so close to killing him. I hadn’t drained a human during the act of feeding since I was a fledgling. Yet my fear of the naturi and the taste of Michael’s blood fueled something in me. It had given me back a shred of power and control when it all seemed to be slipping from my grasp.

I could tell myself I would have stopped in time, but that did nothing to erase the knot of doubt in my stomach. No matter how much I cared for him, I would always be a threat to him.

With a sigh, I pulled my leg inside the coffin and stretched out. I needed to sleep. I would need my strength for London, and I wasn’t completely healed from my encounter with the naturi. And truthfully, I didn’t want to think anymore.

Danaus was near me. It was the first thing I thought of when consciousness slipped back into my brain. He was in the same room, somewhere close. I moved my left hand, feeling for the side of the coffin so I could unlock it, but instead my hand came in contact with a thick velvet cover. My eyes snapped open, a snarl lunging forward behind clenched teeth. I was lying on a large bed in a luxurious bedroom, with dark, heavy furniture and thick curtains pulled across the pair of windows on the wall to my left. I sat up, my fists grasping the wine-colored comforter. Danaus sat in a chair set against the door, his arms folded over his chest. He was staring at me; his intent gaze taking in my expression, the movement of my muscles beneath pale skin. Wrapped in his blanket of power, he sat there like some reluctant guardian.

“Why was I taken out of my box?” I was as angry with myself as I was at my companions. I had fallen asleep with the lid open, so it hadn’t been locked from the inside. But I had been moved. Someone had touched me while I slept. A cold chill of fear gripped my frame in a tight fist. No one saw me during the daylight hours; not servants or guardians. The complete vulnerability during that long stretch of time was the only thing I loathed about being a nightwalker.

“Michael said you don’t sleep in a coffin when you are home,” Danaus said. “He also said you were screaming when you awoke last night.”

“It was a nightmare.” My eyes darted back to the subdued pattern on the comforter. I’d had a blissfully empty day this time, but I could clearly recall the nightmare from the previous day. Pushing the thought aside, I looked back up at Danaus. “Who moved me?”

“I did,” he said, holding my gaze.

“Why?”

“I wanted to see you sleep.” His eyes never wavered from my face. There was a strange intensity to him that set me ill at ease. “You never moved. You’re just a corpse.” His eyes seemed to harden as he spoke but he sounded confused. It was as if he couldn’t reconcile the fact that moments ago I was cold and stiff and now I was sitting in bed talking to him. “Can you awaken during the day?”

“Not yet. Someday, maybe. The Ancients sleep less, but we all lay down when the sun rises in the morning. Vampires are remnants of an old war,” I explained. This line of questions was unexpected.

“What war?”

“The eternal battle between the sun and moon.”

Danaus nodded and rose from his chair, which he pulled to one side. “I don’t harm creatures while they are defenseless.”

“A hunter with honor.”

“One of the few. The meeting is in an hour,” he announced, then left the room. I stared at the closed door, feeling him moving about the hotel room. He was uneasy as well, some part of him simmering. I couldn’t read his thoughts, but I could pick up on his emotions. So much anger and turmoil stewed in his chest. He also had questions with no answers, and I was at their center. He had spent years of his life killing my kind, but I think he was beginning to question his choices. Maybe a part of him was starting to see we weren’t all mindless killers, and it bothered him.

Grinning, I sauntered into the pale yellow bathroom off the bedroom and turned on the shower. I might be able to use this to my advantage. I wasn’t sure how, but it was an interesting development. Hell, at that point I was happy to have anything resembling useful information.

Scrubbing off the layers of blood and soot, I hummed an inane little tune to myself, glad to finally be free of the last remnants of naturi. After blow-drying my hair, I pulled on a pair of black leather pants and a long-sleeve silk shirt. This one was a brilliant blue, nearly matching the shade of Danaus’s eyes. It would establish a subtle tie between us. I wasn’t confident my new friend from Themis would pick up on it, but I had plans for this evening. As a finishing touch, I added a pair of rectangular sunglasses with blue lenses. I turned in front of the large mirror, taking in my appearance. A warm meal, a good day’s sleep, and a hot shower had left me feeling upbeat. I could finally see an end to this winding road. After my brief meeting with this Themis character, I would locate Sadira and find a replacement for Tabor. When that was done, I was headed home and the Coven was on its own. I was back in control of my life and it felt good.

My intrepid companion didn’t give me a second glance as we left the hotel and climbed into a taxi. We were silent as the little car swept us across the city to Mayfair. My trips to London had been infrequent over the years, but I’d been here often enough to recognize the various boroughs regardless of what century it was. And for as long as I’d known, Mayfair was the posh center of the universe for the monied elite. Alighting from the cab, I paused and looked up at the beautiful brick town house with its flower boxes overflowing with blooms. This was not what I had expected. I thought we would find ourselves in a seedy part of town, the back room of some disreputable bar or grimy warehouse with its family of oversized rats.

Directly across from us was Grosvenor Square, with its old trees reaching up at the night sky. The landscape was dotted with old brick facades and black iron fences, keeping the common rabble at bay. Matching black lamps stood at the corners, attempting to beat back the fog that had already begun to roll in from the Thames as the temperature dropped for the night.

The city felt vastly different from Savannah. Old Europe was quieter, more subdued, as if its dark history demanded that a hushed silence be observed in the dark hours of the night if you were out on the street. As if, otherwise, any one of the ancient myths of the fey or even my own kind might creep out from the shadows and strike. Europe held onto her old tales and superstitions longer, weaving them into the histories they had witnessed as if they were truths as well. The New World proved to be vastly different, with her shorter memory and fast-paced lifestyle that wouldn’t slow down for anyone, not even an old ghost story like a vampire.