Blood-Kissed Sky (Darkness Before Dawn) Read online

  The mountains that feel so familiar…

  A weird dread falls over me—

  Suddenly Tegan is punching my shoulder. I turn away from the mountains and gasp at the magnificence stretching out before me.

  The ocean.

  It’s staggering in size, curving with the earth, so blue that I could stare at it for an entire lifetime and still not find every shade undulating within its folding waves. It’s alive. It breathes. It gives me hope for something better far beyond this place, to where the waves crash anew on different shores.

  I’d hoped the ocean was some mythical place that we’d never find, and we could simply glide through the air for an eternity, taking in the sights meant for only birds. But we eventually land.

  We step out and instantly the air is fresh and pure and somehow salty. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before and my lungs suddenly crave it like a new sensation they know will soon be taken away.

  The pilot shuts off the propeller. The new smell is overtaken by an incredible sound. A soft crash, but spread wide like it covers the earth. It has a rhythm, a song, a melody all its own. It’s heavy and infinite, completely beyond words, and I already know I won’t be able to describe it to anyone who hasn’t heard the roar of the ocean.

  Tegan is next to me, and I dare not look at her, in case this magnificent place is just a dream and disappears when I turn away. So instead I lace my fingers through hers, and realize that this is a moment I could only ever share with her, and it’ll be our moment. Forever.

  “I never imagined anything like this,” Tegan whispers.

  The vampires took this, took so much beauty from us.

  “How long do we have?” Michael asks the pilot.

  “As long as you want. When you’re ready to head back, just join me at the chopper.”

  Taking off my shoes, I hold them as we scramble over the dunes to get to the water. The sand is warm against my soles and it shifts beneath my feet. Tegan and I are laughing, clinging to each other, struggling to keep our balance. Ian and Michael follow behind us. When I glance back, I see that they’re both wearing smiles that are brighter than I’ve ever seen.

  This is what our life should be—smiles and happiness.

  We drop the bags that Matheson gave us on a smaller sand drift. Tegan runs ahead, dancing over the beach with wild abandon. Michael, Ian, and I approach the water’s edge. Seashells litter the shore. The water rolls in, swirls around our ankles. Our feet sink just a little and I release a startled squeal. Michael laughs.

  Seagulls cry out, swoop down gracefully. On sticklike legs, sandpipers race up and down the beach. I only know what they are because of books at school. I never expected to see them.

  Tegan rushes over, smiling brightly, out of breath. “Isn’t this amazing?”

  “People used to crowd these beaches,” Ian says. “Before the war.”

  “Christopher said he spent time at the beaches in the east,” I tell him.

  “He lied. People don’t leave the cities in the east any more than they leave them anywhere else. But he dreamed of playing in the ocean.” From his pocket, he retrieves the leather necklace that he removed from Christopher’s neck. “Enjoy the waves, kid,” he says quietly before hurling the necklace into the surf.

  We watch it bob on the ever-moving whitecaps until they swallow the pendant. Who knows in what strange land it’ll finally come to rest? I hope it’s somewhere far away.

  After we take a silent moment, Tegan says, “Let’s see what’s in those bags.”

  We unzip the duffel bags and pull out several towels and a large multicolored ball.

  “What is this thing?” Tegan asks.

  “Come on, I’ll show you,” Ian says, grabbing it and running through the sand.

  We all follow, and Ian turns around, tells us to spread out, and then bumps the ball toward Tegan. She hits it to me and it goes sailing. I have to chase it and, lifting my arms, I knock it over to Michael. He returns it the same way.

  I can’t believe we’re laughing. We’ve all forgotten the world and the vampires and the dangers. Right here, it’s just the waves, the sounds, the laughter, and the beach ball.

  After a few minutes, I go sit down on one of the towels while Michael and Tegan walk down the beach, still passing the ball back and forth. Ian wades out into the water until it’s circling around his calves. I wonder what distant memory he’s recalling.

  I can’t help but think about Victor. We could never share a moment like this. The sun, so glorious, warms every part of me. It’s like I never stopped to thank it for being there, always saw it as something that keeps the monsters away, instead of what it really is: perfection written in the sky.

  I put my chin on my knees, my arms wrapped tightly around my legs, thinking that maybe I can freeze this moment. But the sun keeps moving, keeps setting. And it’s time to go back.

  When we return to the hotel, we discover Faith and Richard are in our suite. A white cloth-covered table cluttered with covered dishes is set out on the balcony.

  “We thought since this is your last night here that something special was in order,” Faith says.

  “I brought something for you, Ian, from my private collection,” Richard says. “The best scotch you’ll ever find. I thought we might toast to better vampire-human relations.”

  Ian eyes him warily but the lure of good whiskey proves too much. “Sure, why not?”

  “We’ll leave the elders to their fiery brews,” Faith says to me. “We’ll have wine.”

  Maybe it’s because we’re near the sea, but we have an assortment of seafood spread out before us. It looks to be real, which means it cost a fortune. Not that Faith can’t afford it.

  She lights candles on the table, and they flicker in the slight breeze. Tegan seems more relaxed, and I wonder if the time she spent at the beach distracted her from her bad memories of Sin. I catch her sneaking glances at Michael and when she realizes I spotted her, she looks guilty.

  Hearing a clink of glasses, I watch as Ian takes a long swallow of the amber liquid. “Ah, excellent stuff.”

  “Only the best for you, Ian,” Richard says. He shifts his attention to me, and I see something secretive in his eyes, something I can’t read. A little warning bell goes off in my head, but this is Richard. Victor’s best friend. He trusts him with his life. Has trusted him with mine.

  “So what did you do today?” Richard asks.

  I tell him about our trip to the beach.

  “You should’ve seen it, Richard. It was…”

  “Breathtaking? I have seen it. But never with the sun out. Tell me. Is the blue bright and beautiful with the sun reflecting off it?”

  “Even more, it’s … incredible. I wish all humans could see it. I wish we could tear down the walls and start over with the vampires.”

  “Who knows? Maybe this little trip will prove to be a start.”

  “Will you be returning to Denver with us?” Michael asks.

  “No, I need to reconcile with my father and that’s going to take effort and time.”

  He doesn’t sound too happy about it, but we will need all the Old Families to align with Victor in his battle against Sin.

  “What about you, Faith?” I ask.

  She pats Richard’s hand where it rests on the table. I think she meant to make it a brief token of reassurance, but he turns his hand over quickly and captures her fingers between his. I expect her to pull away. Instead she gives him a soft smile. “I’m going to stay and help Richard make amends.”

  “What … the … ’ell?”

  The slurred words have us all jerking our attention back to Ian. He’s struggling to come up out of his chair, but he only gets halfway there before toppling over and crashing to the floor in a sprawl.

  Tegan rushes over to him, touches the pulse at his throat. He snores deeply, and she gives Richard an accusing glare. “You put something in the scotch.”

  Richard finishes off his glass, making his point that he
’s immune to its effects. “I did.”

  Michael is on his feet, his stake drawn. “What’s going on?”

  Richard slides his gaze over to me. “You wanted to go with me to see my father, didn’t you?”

  My heart is hammering. “I did. I do. Absolutely.”

  “Ian wasn’t going to let you go,” Faith says reasonably. “And now, he’ll have sweet dreams until you come back.”

  “I was going to distract him,” Tegan says accusatorily.

  “Oh,” Richard says, looking sheepish. “Yeah, that probably would have worked, too.”

  “I didn’t get a chance to tell them,” I say, looking at Tegan. I wish I had shared our plans, since their methods are a bit extreme. But it’s done now.

  “And you forgot to tell me,” Michael says. “I could have saved you all some trouble, because you’re not going. It’s too dangerous.”

  I walk over to him and lay my hand on his shoulder, feel him stiffen. We’ve shared so much, been through so much. “Come with me,” I say. “I could really use your help out there.”

  “We don’t need to do this,” he says. “Ian is right. We have all the information we need. What’s an Old Family vampire who lives outside the walls going to be able to tell us?”

  “We won’t know until we ask, until we talk to him. Like mine, your duty is to the city. We need to know everything about the Thirst, and everything about Day Walkers, and everything about Sin. No matter the cost.”

  “It doesn’t always have to be you making the sacrifices.”

  “It does,” I say. “Because I’m the only person who can. Who do I have now? Not my parents. Not my brother. I’m the person who can die for their cause, because I don’t have anything to risk.”

  “But you do. We all do,” he says, looking over at Tegan.

  She steps over and takes his hand. “I’m not going. I’m going to stay and watch over Ian. I’ll be fine. There are no vamps in the city, but there are plenty where Dawn is going. She needs you. You’re a Night Watchman. She comes first.”

  I can see him struggling and realize that slowly during this trip his feelings have been changing, shifting from me to Tegan. And it looks like hers have been changing as well. I’m about to tell him to stay when he says, “Vamps or no vamps, keep all the doors locked, Tegan. We’ll be back. I’ll be back.”

  She smiles at him. “Just be careful.”

  He nods.

  I breathe a sigh of relief, then look at Richard. “Can you at least move Ian to a bed?”

  “Of course.” He uses the amazing strength that vampires have to easily lift Ian over his shoulder and cart him to one of the bedrooms.

  Faith touches my arm, bringing my attention to her. “I can sense that you’re a little upset by our methods. He’ll sleep for a couple of hours and be just fine. We should be back before he wakes up. This way was just easier.”

  “I guess it was…”

  When Richard returns, he asks, “Are we ready?”

  “Just to be clear,” Michael says, “I want to go on record as saying I don’t like this.”

  “Noted,” Richard says. “Now, let’s get out of here.”

  “How?” I ask. “There’s only one entrance into the entire city, and that’s the rails for the Night Train, which is closed with several feet of steeled gate and a dozen guards.”

  “I’ve been slipping in and out of this city for years,” Richard says. “Don’t worry.”

  Once we get outside, we go around a corner to where Richard parked his car. It’s a beautiful, all-white, old sedan. It shouts glamour like nothing else I’ve seen on the streets. I expect a chauffeur in a top hat and leather gloves to come out and guide me into the luxurious backseat. But Richard opens up the back door and does it for me.

  The inside is cream-colored leather, the softest I’ve ever felt. The stitching is perfect, the contours precise. Michael follows me in while Richard and Faith take the front.

  Before long, we’re gliding smoothly through the streets. The funny thing is, no one is looking. No one even seems to notice or care. They’re so used to these kinds of sights that we’re just another passing car. In Denver, people would have been turning their heads at every street corner.

  An hour later, Richard has circled around to the only part of the city that isn’t covered with lights and people.

  “Good, it’s still here,” he says, driving toward a brick warehouse with a large metal sliding door. “Now, if only this still works.” He holds up a remote and presses a button. The door rises. He drives through and the door clangs shut behind us.

  The headlights illuminate the dusty floor, and then I see it: a ramp leading down. Slowing almost to a crawl, he follows it cautiously. Soon we’re in a tunnel, and he puts his foot on the gas again.

  “I built this deep beneath the city decades ago,” he says. “It was the easiest way to get in and out after my father pissed me off.”

  “What would you do in the city?” I ask, somewhat claustrophobic.

  “I’d just go to one of the nightclubs or a nice restaurant, surround myself with beautiful women. I swear, they’re getting better-looking every year.”

  I look at Faith and as much as she tries, even she can’t hide that tiny snarl at the mention of female “competition.” Not that any mortal would be competition to her.

  The tunnel is just large enough to fit the car, and several wooden beams are spread out every so often to help support the underground system. It doesn’t seem the safest in the world, and I wonder when it was last used. But before long, Richard is pressing a button on the remote again and another door is sliding open. A dull blue hue appears. When we emerge, the moon is up high greeting us, casting its gaze across the deserted fields. I glance back to see the city’s Outer Ring of walls behind us.

  There are no defined roads, but with Richard at the wheel, they aren’t needed. Soon we all relax, lean back, and enjoy the surroundings as we’re speeding along. I’m distracted by the mountains in the distance when Michael taps my knee and points forward. I notice something looming up ahead, and even without Richard telling me, I know what it is.

  The manor is very different from Valentine’s. It’s old and deteriorating. Larger, but it’s like the entire thing is collapsing under its own weight and history. Chunks of stone are absent from the towers, which only seem to be standing by some freak architectural design. Their edges rotting away, window frames hold no glass. The front door is off-kilter, a hinge giving way some time ago.

  “Man, it has been a while,” Richard says.

  “It didn’t always look this way?” I ask.

  “No. But my father’s been growing lazier over the years, more complacent. The servants are obviously following his lead.”

  Richard brings the car to a halt so it’s facing the manor, its lights revealing a crumbling foundation and vines crawling up the sides, as if a great tentacled beast lay in the ground trying to swallow the manor whole.

  If Richard is nervous, he certainly doesn’t show it as he opens the front door. Stepping in, we’re greeted with black shadows fighting against the bit of moonlight pouring in through the windows and a handful of holes in the roof. Michael turns on his flashlight, and the extra illumination reveals Richard’s concern.

  “Now this is strange,” he says. “The lamps aren’t even on. Father was very adamant that they never go out.”

  As we begin to cautiously move forward, the wind picks up and I feel it crawl across my body from the hundreds of tiny openings throughout the decrepit great house.

  “It seems abandoned,” I say.

  “I doubt that,” Richard says. “Father has just become more of a recluse. That’s all. He’d never leave this place.”

  Michael stays right behind me, sweeping his flashlight around us any time we hear a noise. I figure we’re safe, though. Richard and Faith, leading the way, have highly attuned senses. If we were in trouble, they would know.

  As we pass rooms, I steal glances into pla
ces that may have once been beautiful but are now haunted by decay and rot. Ragged, moth-eaten curtains hang at the windows. In the art gallery are torn paintings and smashed marble statues. The library shelves are nearly empty, the books strewn across the floor like some new and uneven carpeting. Bedchambers reveal flipped mattresses and armoires reduced to rubble.

  Richard grows more tense, resting his hand firmly on the stake strapped to his belt. Taking the cue, Michael wastes no time withdrawing his own.

  At the end of the hallway, a pair of great double doors greets us. Richard hesitates, maybe contemplating what he’ll say to his father. Maybe more afraid of what his father has become. Driven mad, perhaps? Led to destroy his own manor? He wouldn’t be the first Old Family to lose it. It isn’t common, but their minds can be as fragile as a human’s sometimes, cracking along hidden fissures they didn’t even know existed.

  Richard opens the door.

  The massive room is empty except for one throne made entirely of stone. The only light shining upon it comes from a hole in the roof that must have been deliberately placed, because the moon falls perfectly onto the elaborate chair. The arms and back are covered in ornate designs, carved by some master artisan’s ancient hand. But where the Great Carrollton Lord should sit, there is nothing except dust.

  “He’s not here,” Richard says.

  “We haven’t checked all the rooms,” Faith says in an attempt to comfort him.

  “No. He isn’t here. This place is empty.”

  “Not quite, young Carrollton.”

  The air is sucked out of my lungs as a new chilly voice responds to Richard.

  From behind the throne, a pair of hands emerges, and then arms, and finally the head of a demented vampire. He crawls across the throne like a spider, his feet and hands never hitting the ground, but gliding across the seat of the Old Family vampire.

  “Maurice?” Richard says. “Maurice, is that you? Where is Father?”

  “Gone, young Carrollton,” the vampire says. He wears only a faded loincloth, the rest of him pale and naked. Thin beyond all imagination except for a large jaw that would only fit on a man twice his size.