Davina (Davy Harwood #3)

“Not if she can rest.”


Wren clipped out, “We go to Roane. He’s coming for us. He’ll have an army with him. We can go back for the traitor and your niece, but with him. We’ll have numbers on our side.” Her voice rose. “We’ll have a fighting chance. These are Mori vampires. You guys are forgetting that. They’re not like us. We’re lucky we got free at all. They’re a force all at once. They fight as one being. We’ll never win, with or without a rested Immortal on our side.”

She was right. I looked to Gavin and Tracey. They both knew she was right, but they’d do what I said. They believed in me the way they believed in Roane. The same loyalty Wren felt for her leader hadn’t transferred to me, but it didn’t matter. Even though Gregory wasn’t in the cave with us, he would do what I said. That was his way.

It was my call, and as Wren turned to me, reluctance written all over her face, I knew she knew it as well.

I said, “Let’s rest. For now.” That was all I could say.





ROANE


“Vampire.”

Two days earlier, Roane would’ve been surprised at the sudden appearance of Davy’s blue-clad mysterious friend, but as he was standing on the cliff, overlooking the camp, he was starting to recognize when she’d appear. A slight buzzing would fill the air and feeling the same sensations this time, he merely looked over as she was standing next to him. The wind was fierce where they stood, high above the others, so her blue-tipped black hair was immediately flowing behind her. She gazed out over the cliff’s edge. “You take point up here because of the wind, not just because of the view.”

It wasn’t a statement, and Roane didn’t respond. He was up there for other reasons. Yes, he could smell any enemy approaching better from there, and yes, he could see beyond their camp better, but he was also up there because it would’ve been a spot that Davy would’ve loved. It was the highest vantage point where he could see as far as possible, and if she was within range and if she happened to send him a signal, he wanted to be in the best possible spot to see it.

As it was, he gazed back over the horizon and it was only mountains, trees, and a river’s glimmer sparkling from the moonlight’s reflection. There was nothing in the distance, nothing that he was hoping to see.

“Who are you looking for?”

He gazed back at her and still didn’t answer.

Saren narrowed her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. Her leather made a swooshing sound as her arms rubbed over the material. “Answer, Vampire.”

“Why?”

Her head cocked to the side. “What do you mean why? I asked you a question.”

Roane was growing tired of her impatience and condescension. Seeing her reaction, he hid a grin, but answered, “I don’t owe you answers to anything, so why would I start reporting to you now?”

Her eyebrows furrowed together and the corners of her mouth curved down. “I do not understand what is going on right now. What is happening?”

He sighed. “I’m giving you ‘attitude.’”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not my boss.” Roane shook his head, turning back to continue searching the land beyond them. He hadn’t had a boss for a while. Going rogue from the Hunters’ Line was freeing, but nerve-wracking. He knew they would come for him, along with Jacith’s army. And, suddenly, as if feeling them hot on his trail, he almost imagined seeing them moving along the trees. They would’ve been moving silently, like ghosts, approaching their camp with near perfection. He knew they weren’t out there, not yet, but they were coming. Their camp had been traveling at a fierce speed, but they needed to rest. One more night of rest, then another full week of going hard. The vampires could handle it. They were letting the wolves catch up.

And Saren must’ve felt the same because she said, “We shouldn’t stay long. Davy is in trouble. I sought you out to remind you of the importanc—”

Roane had a hand at her throat before she could finish that sentence. Her eyes widened from the quick turn of events, and she looked down at the arm. Before she could respond, Roane leaned forward and growled, “Do you think I don’t know?”

“We must keep going.” She spoke stiffly, her eyes lifting and holding Roane’s gaze. A fire started in her eyes. It sparked, but it was pulled down to a simmer. It was there. It was burning. The flames were bright, but she was keeping it contained. “The Immortal thread is separating from Davy. The sooner we get there, the better.”

Roane tilted his head to the side. The growl was still there, but he muted it. His hand dropped, releasing her suddenly. A normal being would’ve fallen from the abrupt departure, but Saren held still. He asked, “What do you mean? The thread is separating? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“It’s the witches.”