Bloodtraitor (10 page)

“Misha won't like my returning before she calls for me,” I pointed out.
As if she were ever planning to do so.

Nathaniel shrugged dismissively. “Tell her Midnight sent you to spy on her.”

It was a damning enough near-truth that Misha would believe it. Unfortunately, Aaron would, too, along with many others in our guild. That knowledge hurt more than I expected.

SHKEI FELL ASLEEP
curled around Alasdair, and dreamed of basking in front of a crackling bonfire as his kin danced.

He was jerked back to awareness as the trainer dragged him to his feet, nearly wrenching his arm out of its socket. He hadn't finished opening his eyes before he slammed into the far wall.

It was difficult to reconcile reality with his peaceful dream until he saw Alasdair's wide, golden eyes. Her fear had no place in the beauty he had briefly returned to in his sleep.

“Touch her again, snake, and I will peel the skin from your hands,” the trainer said, his voice coldly furious. “Do you doubt me?”

“No,” Shkei whispered.

When Gabriel turned toward Alasdair, she first cringed, and then stood, strengthening her shoulders, raising her chin, and deliberately stepping between the vampire and Shkei. The trainer smiled, but the expression spoke more of possession and anticipation than it did affection or pleasure.

My brother had trusted me implicitly, but in the end, I hadn't been there for him. I had watched through visions, unable to speak to Shkei or interfere in any way, while the hawk who should have hated us all had held him in the dark, comforted him, and tried to protect him.

I wished I could repay her, but all I could do for Alasdair or Shkei now was replay their memories in my head and try to make things right.

That thought spurred me on as I pushed myself and the horse beyond any sensible limits. This time of year, the days were long, and I used every moment, funneling magic into my mount when I otherwise would have needed to give her a break. I hoped to reach my destination early so I could get a sense of the area before Nathaniel—and, I assumed, others—arrived.

The days aren't just long,
I thought as I rode.
It's the summer solstice.

It had been exactly one year since Misha and Shkei had been taken. I wondered if the Obsidian guild would bother to celebrate Namir-da this year, or if they would ignore the holiest of serpiente holidays to avoid the painful memories associated with it.

Shortly before I entered Shantel land, I spotted the bright green tail of a quetzal out of the corner of my eye. Vance alighted on my shoulder, and then shifted into human form, ending up behind me on the saddle.

“What's the news, and are we horse thieves now?” he asked.

“Even I'm not stupid enough to steal a horse from Midnight,” I answered. “Jeshickah likes horses better than she likes people. Nathaniel lent me this one to get to his meeting, where I'm hoping he will finally explain his plan. Where's Kadee?”

“She stayed behind to keep an eye on Misha. She's a far better spy in the palace than I would be, and my wings were better suited to catching up with you. Where are we going?”

“Shantel land. That's all I know.” I assumed the token Nathaniel had given me had some kind of power to guide me in the right direction, since even my magic couldn't help me navigate in the Shantel woods. “You don't weigh much, but we'll still be faster if you travel in your feathered form.”

Vance nodded, and then changed shape again. The tiny emerald bird with a dramatic blood-crimson breast was able to ride comfortably on my shoulder, nestled under my hair in the crook of my neck, with his long tail feathers flittering behind.

He tucked his head down as if to sleep, and looked up with a squawk only once, when a powerful surge of magic rippled around us. The horse stomped the ground, resisting the reins long enough for me to be concerned before she relented and let herself be led forward. I only hoped I was leading us all well.

The sun was lost behind the trees when my ears popped and I was suddenly standing at the edge of a clearing. My attempt to hurry and arrive early had been foolish. Shantel magic had clearly created this place; Shantel magic ensured that everyone arrived exactly when they were supposed to.

I tethered the horse, Vance changed into human form beside me, and we stepped into the clearing. Darkness turned into heavy fog that further obscured the area. In the late twilight, I could barely see the shadows of others nearby. Magic veiled their identities more securely than the night did, so that even if I drew near, I knew I would have trouble making out their features.

I heard someone say sarcastically, “This is pretty,” but when I turned the person who had spoken was nothing but a dark patch in the mist.

“Thank you all for coming,” Nathaniel said. I was able to see him clearly, as if more light fell on him than on the others. “Several of you expressed a desire to remain anonymous for this meeting, and I have done my best to honor that request, so stop grumbling. In order to assuage other concerns, I would like to introduce one of our allies who is
not
afraid to show her face.”

The mists shifted to reveal an elderly woman whose skin was the color of an acorn shell, except for streaks of milky white across her cheek, brow, and jaw. If I hadn't known better, I would have assumed they were scars, but I could sense the power around this woman. The pale stripes were what the Shantel called the “white curse,” and they marked her as the famous sakkri, the witch who controlled the strongest of the Shantel's magic.

I knew which recent events had finally pushed the Shantel to participate in this rebellion. The sakkri's power was passed down from one generation to the next as the elder witch trained the younger, but the Shantel had been forced to sell the apprentice sakkri to Midnight just as she came fully into her power. What did they have left but to fight?

“We stand in a space between day and night, past and future, fixed and changeable.” Though her body looked frail, as if she were at the end of her years, the sakkri's voice was strong. “The power of this place is designed to turn away anyone whose intentions do not align with ours and to reveal falsehoods, so I can vow that no one present tonight is here to betray us. The mist will hide anyone who wishes to stay secret, and only reveal those who choose to show their faces.”

“That would be impressive. Should I believe it?” The question came from a man's voice with an accent I could not place.

His tone was more curious than challenging, but Nathaniel clenched his jaw, then took a moment to compose himself before turning to address the speaker, who was recognizable only as a vague outline.

“I am aware that you and your line have little experience with or interest in local cultures,” Nathaniel replied, “but this would all go more smoothly if you would cease questioning my competence at every turn. You demanded to know who my allies were, whether they represented sufficient support for my plan to succeed, and how I expected to keep such a large plan secret long enough to pull it off. This meeting is your answer.”

“It's rather naive to question a mercenary's methods,” another voice remarked, teasing. All I could tell was that this one was female. “Not to mention rude. Nathaniel, is this your employer?”

“I'm simply a sponsor,” the first voice replied.

Silver?
I wondered. It would make sense that the vampire challenging Midnight for supremacy would be involved in Nathaniel's plan…but if he hadn't hired Nathaniel, who had?

“Fine,” the first man said. For a man who claimed to be a “sponsor,” not an employer, he seemed to have no compunctions about controlling the meeting. “Tell us who you've gathered, and what your plan is.”

“As I said before,” Nathaniel replied, “not everyone here is willing to share their names yet, but we have representatives from the Shantel, the Azteka, the shm'Ahnmik, Macht witches, Triste witches, the Obsidian guild, Kendra's line, and Katama's line—and you, of course, representing Silver's line.”

“True,” the sakkri whispered, tilting her head as if listening to distant music.

My skin crawled at the reference to the shm'Ahnmik, my father's people. Any purebred falcon who saw me would hate me on sight for being half serpent. My presence might be offensive enough for them to refuse to stay. Was their power strong enough to see past Shantel magic?

I suspected the uneasy murmuring I heard from the others was due to a different name in the list: Katama, Jeshickah's sister, who had sired the line that had created and ruled Midnight itself. Was Nathaniel referring to himself as a representative from that line? Or was one of the trainers in on this? If so, which one? The only name that came to mind was Gabriel, but though he regularly spoke up against Jeshickah, he seemed to enjoy the perks of his position too much to actively seek to destroy that empire.

As for the other groups listed, there were some I knew well, and others I only recognized in passing, such as Macht witches. I had heard Jeshickah refer to them as nuisances and vampire hunters, but I had never met any except failed assassins Jeshickah had already captured and broken.

“I still don't see why this needs to be so complicated.”

This time, Nathaniel didn't bother to mask his irritation. He glared at the vampire from Silver's line.

“Midnight has existed, in one form or another, for over five hundred years,” Nathaniel said. “In my time, I have personally witnessed, heard about, or helped avert more assassination attempts than most of you can imagine.”

When no one spoke up, he continued.

“In addition to the fact that Jeshickah and her trainers are all fierce fighters, Midnight proper is further protected by spellwork that limits what magic can be performed inside its walls, by shapeshifter guards, and by broken slaves who are trained fighters.”

“Jeshickah or her sisters will be able to rebuild from anything other than—get this fog out of my face,” a woman declared. “I don't care who knows I'm here.”

The mist cleared to reveal an auburn-haired vampire I had never seen before. Nathaniel's representative from Kendra's line, perhaps? Some of them were strongly loyal to Midnight, but I had heard of others who had no interest in Jeshickah's empire.

“As I was saying,” she said, tossing her head, “they will rebuild from anything other than complete destruction. The trainers would probably take over even if Jeshickah were gone; they don't know how to do anything different. And once they realize they're being targeted, the game is lost. So you need a way to take out Katama, Jeshickah, Acise, Gabriel, Jaguar, Taro, and Varick. And you need it to be fast enough that they can't fight back.”

“What about people like Daryl?” Vance asked. “Or Theron? Midnight works with Kendra's line, too.”

I winced, hoping I had been wrong about the vampire's lineage, but she grinned, and said, “That would be a very bad idea. Well, I wouldn't miss Daryl, but I'd have to object if anyone here somehow managed to harm Theron. And if you take Daryl, you'll need to take Brina. That would be child's play, until Kaleo came to avenge her, and if you killed him you would be back facing Theron.”

Vance looked a little paler, but still had the nerve to say, “That's why most of us are anonymous, isn't it?”

“Safely anonymous, for now,” someone else said—a woman, I thought, but I couldn't even tell that much for sure. “But everyone Nathaniel has brought in on this plan is by nature swift, intelligent, and deadly.
You
would not survive if any one of us were your enemy.”

The way she emphasized the word
you
made me shudder, almost certain that speaker knew who Vance was. Either she could see past the sakkri's power, or Nathaniel had intentionally let her know who we were.

“True,” the sakkri whispered again, “for you,” she added, more softly. Vance wouldn't be a deadly enemy for anyone else in this circle.

“Thank you, Shevaun, for identifying our problem,” Nathaniel said to the vampire from Kendra's line, as if he hadn't been interrupted. “Now—”

“But we have the advantage of numbers,” another woman said. This time the mists revealed a blond-haired woman whose stance and toned form suggested that she was equally trained for combat. “Many of the fighters who guard Midnight used to be our kin. I refuse to believe that they would stand against us.”