Dayhunter 2 by Jocelynn Drake

Author:Jocelynn Drake
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-07-25T06:27:08+00:00

FIFTEEN

T he sun slid back beneath the earth, its long rays of light clawing at the sky in a desperate attempt to find some last second purchase. The world sighed and shuddered, shaking off the day’s tight grasp like shedding a skin it had outgrown. I didn’t see the sun’s steady descent into darkness, but I could feel the birth of a new night. The subtle shift of the nocturnal world as it yawned and stretched, ready for a night of hunting, rippled through me.

Tristan lay silent last night in the bed after returning from the Coven, lost somewhere between Sadira’s betrayal and my failure to protect him. I’m sure his mind had replayed

Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) his time with the court in all its gory detail. He’d come so close to dying in that place of permanent night and horrors.

I should never have left him alone with Sadira, completely underestimating her need to strike out at me. The court could have easily destroyed him, and Sadira had already proven that he was dispensable if it meant breaking me. Protecting Tristan was going to be harder than I’d anticipated, and he had paid the price for my foolishness and ego. His encounter in the Great Hall was my fault. We both knew now that neither of us would ever be completely free until Sadira was dead and gone. But at the moment, he slept deeply beside me on the bed, curled up in the fetal position, the blankets twisted around his naked body.

Hesitantly, I reached over and smoothed some of the soft locks from his face. Full dark was still more than an hour away, and he was immersed in the deep, healing sleep of our people. Blissful darkness consumed his thoughts, and for a time the memory of Sadira’s betrayal and my failure were no doubt wiped away. He would have to face those memories again all too soon, but for now there was only nothingness.

I stared down at his beautiful form, cool and limp. A knot lodged in my throat and I blinked back a swell of tears that blurred my vision. My sweet, beautiful Tristan with the fragile, playful smile. In him, I saw both a child and a brother. Brought into the darkness by the same nightwalker, we were of the same bloodline. Yet, he was so much younger and weaker. His very existence seemed so tenuous.

Jabari had saved me five hundred years ago from Sadira, bringing me out of the shadow of pain and despair. Was it my job to save Tristan now? How could I when I could barely protect myself? Both Michael and Thorne had died while I watched. Would the young nightwalker be next despite my best efforts?

Touching his hair again, I wished his peace would last. I wished for his wounds to heal, on the outside as well as the scars on the inside, but I feared it would all be for nothing. Just nights ago I had professed to James that nightwalkers were more than monsters.

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