After Daybreak: A Darkness Before Dawn Novel Read online

  “I wish you could, but, Tegan, it’s a city filled with Old Family. Would you really want to be there?”

  She visibly shudders. “No. Just . . . just don’t let them turn you.”

  Oh, Tegan, if you only knew . . .

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Her cell phone rings. She pulls it from her pocket, stares at the display, and answers. “Hey, Mom . . . Yeah, I am. Now? Okay. Okay, I get it. Okay. Okay.”

  Hanging up, she rolls her eyes. “My mom. She’s got me on a short leash. I’ve gotta go.”

  Even though Tegan would consider it a betrayal if she knew how I felt, I can’t blame her mom. Tegan snuck on the train so she could go to Los Angeles with me. I’m sure her mother wasn’t aware of her plans.

  “I’m sorry your family was worried.”

  “They don’t understand. You’re my best friend in all the world. I couldn’t let you go alone.”

  I squeeze her hand. “I’m glad you were there.”

  “Not that I did much good.” She pouts. “Missed my chance to stake Sin.”

  “We haven’t seen the last of him.”

  “I’ll be ready next time,” she says.

  Unfortunately, I don’t know if it’s possible to prepare for any encounter with Sin. He’s not exactly sane.

  She gives me a big hug. “Please come back.”

  “I will. Count on it.”

  She opens the door.

  “Hey, Tegan?”

  She stops and looks back over her shoulder.

  “You didn’t answer my question about you and Michael.”

  “Would it bother you if I liked him?”

  “I think it would be awesome. The two people I love most in the world loving each other.”

  She suddenly looks shy and vulnerable. “Then maybe. I don’t know.”

  “He’s a really good guy.”

  She smiles. “That I do know. And he’s hot.”

  She leaves, and the sudden emptiness of the room descends on me. The tape recorder draws my attention, but I turn away and get serious about packing. Just enough clothes to get there and back. With four of us in the car, there won’t be room for extras. I’m sure Victor can buy me whatever I need in New Vampiria—I kind of doubt they’ll accept cash from a human. Actually, maybe a little shopping wouldn’t be too bad. Old Family always dress so well. I’m bound to be introduced to designers, tailors, dressmakers.

  I pack, unpack, repack about a dozen times. Of course, I’m just avoiding that tape player. I know why. Because I already know what’s on it. Not the exact words. I don’t know when it was recorded or where. All I know is that the voices on it will be familiar.

  The voices will belong to my parents.

  The sun is beginning to set, and I know I’m running out of time. If I’m going to do this before I leave, I need to suck it up and do it.

  At my desk I keep repositioning the recorder, as if its exact placement will radically affect the outcome of what’s on the tape. When I’m satisfied, I take a deep breath and hit play.

  The wheels of the tape begin spinning. Static. Then Dad’s voice.

  “Is it recording?”

  “Yes, William.”

  Mom!

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “I just don’t want to mess this up.”

  “William, please, just—”

  “Okay, okay. Hi, Dawn, it’s Dad here. I’m sitting with your mom and, well, we just wanted you to know how much we love you.”

  “That’s right, dear. Dad and I love you so much. And if you’re listening to this, then . . . well, then we aren’t there anymore for you.”

  “We’re sorry, Dawn. Whatever happened, we’re so sorry. When we signed up for the assignment as delegate, we knew it would be dangerous. We knew the risks, but we also knew the reward. Because we aren’t just representing Denver, we’re representing humanity. Remember that. Your mom and dad are doing this so that, one day, you won’t have to be afraid of the dark.”

  “Whatever happened, don’t blame anyone, Dawn,” my mom says. “Don’t hold any anger inside, because it’ll only rot you, and you’re too beautiful, too precious for that. And you’re too beloved.”

  “I want you to know that, no matter what, we always love you, Dawn. And our last thoughts were of you. We love you.”

  “We love you, Dawn.”

  “We love you. . . .”

  The static rolls on and they’re gone again. I shut off the recorder.

  And I begin to cry. I put my head in my hands and let everything out. With each tear I feel them, with each deep, choked breath I hear them. I grab the sides of my hoodie and pull it tight around me, like they’re right here, holding me. Hugging me.

  I miss them so, so much.

  I put my hands on the tape recorder, my wet fingertips smearing the tears over the buttons, and I whisper . . .

  “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  Chapter 7

  “Dawn?”

  Victor’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I don’t know how long I’ve been crying. I look up to see him crouching beside me, my balcony door open. He’s always moved so silently. I wipe at the tears. “You could have come in through the front door. Rachel is expecting you.”

  He gives me a wry grin. “Old habits are hard to break.”

  He’s come into my room through the balcony doors so many times. Climbing walls, leaping from balcony to balcony is no challenge to vampires.

  “I guess it’s time for us to go,” I say.

  He skims his fingers along my cheek. “First, tell me why you were crying.”

  I touch the recorder, explain what it is, and tell him that Clive gave it to me before I left his office that afternoon. “I think he felt guilty. I might have died without ever hearing them.”

  Victor tucks my hair behind my ear. “May I hear them?”

  My heart stutters a little at his request. To share something so personal and special with him . . . It would be amazing.

  Nodding, I rewind the tape and then press play.

  “Is it recording?”

  “Yes, William.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “I just don’t want to mess this up.”

  “William, please, just—”

  “Okay, okay. Hi, Dawn, it’s Dad here . . .”

  We listen to the voices from the past, but somehow this time it feels like they’re right here, talking to both of us. I imagine them by my side or all of us gathered around the dining table, maybe Brady is there, too, and we’re just talking and laughing and eating dinner. There aren’t any monsters, there aren’t any Day Walkers, and the Thirst is still just an urban legend. I close my eyes and Victor puts his hand on mine. I want so badly for the world to be perfect. I feel the tears starting to come again, and when I open my eyes, the world is still the same. But when I look at Victor, it seems just a little bit better.

  “They loved you very much,” he says. “The human capacity for emotion has always humbled me.”

  I hesitate, then remind him, “You once told me that you love me.”

  “But I fear it pales in comparison with what humans can experience.”

  “You would die for me.” He almost did.

  “Without hesitation. What I feel for you terrifies me. I shouldn’t feel it. And yet I do.” Putting his hand behind my head, he leans me down for a kiss. His mouth is tender, gentle, a reflection of him. I love the way he kisses me as though I’m special. I grow warm as yearning takes hold. Maybe I should pack the red silk—

  “Dawn . . .”

  With a start, I break away from the kiss.

  “Dawn . . .”

  I look over at the tape recorder. It’s still playing.

  “I thought it was over,” I say.

  “I guess there’s more on it,” Victor says quietly.

  “This is Dad. There’s something I never told your mother. Something I never told anyone. It’s
about your—our—heritage.”

  My stomach tightens. I hold my breath, dreading what he might say.

  “I’m so sorry I never told you, but I had to protect you. And, well, if we’re not there anymore . . .” He sighs, and static plays out of the speakers as he exhales. “It’s better that you know than be left in the dark. I hid something for you, Dawn. I hid it in the place I’ve always hidden things. I . . . I love you, Dawn. I only wanted to keep you safe. And no matter what, you will always be Dawn.”

  I watch the tape spiral, the magnetic strip wind itself up, containing my parents’ words that were only meant to be heard if the worst happened. I listen, hoping that there’s more. But the tape grinds to a halt.

  No, I think. It can’t be true. What Sin told me. It just can’t.

  “Does that mean anything to you?” Victor asks.

  I nod, unable to get the words out, already feeling the tears beginning to well up.

  “Dawn . . .” Concern is deep in his voice.

  “I have to think. What hiding place is he talking about?”

  “You’re growing pale. Why won’t you tell me what’s happening?”

  Because I don’t want to be what I am.

  I look around my room, and it’s immediately obvious. I go over to the music box that used to house little presents from my father as I grew up: pieces of candy, tiny notes, maybe even a few quarters that I could put into my piggy bank and hear the clink clink as they fell. But how could there be anything else to it?

  “This is where he always hid stuff for me,” I say, Victor joining me. “There’s a little hidden compartment, but the only things in it are things that I’ve hidden.”

  I open it and listen to the music play, the tiny disc somewhere inside the woodwork, turning slowly and playing its song. I’ve always listened to it, but I’ve never really looked at the box itself, just what was inside. I turn it over, examine it from every angle. I tap the green felt bottom. It sounds off. Then I gauge its depth in relation to the rest of the box, and that’s when I realize:

  “It’s a false bottom,” I say. “It can be lifted out. But how?”

  I grab the tiny wooden divider that separates the box into two compartments and try to lift from there, but it doesn’t budge.

  “Let me take a look at it.”

  Victor puts his hand on the box, his fingers lightly touching key points. The music stops.

  “Wind it up again,” he says.

  I do so, and when I let go of the turn key, the music begins all over again. Victor closes his eyes and listens. It’s like he’s in another world, his vampiric senses picking up impossible things.

  “There’s a note,” he says, “I can feel it. Whenever the music wheel hits that spot, it shifts something inside the box. I think it unlocks it.”

  I wait in silence as Victor listens to the song again and again and again, like a fencer waiting for that right moment to strike. His fingers clench the felt divider and then . . . pop.

  The false bottom detaches perfectly, and Victor sets it aside. In the box, a tiny strip of leather is wrapped around a bundle of documents, everything secured with a rubber band. I pull it out and close the box; the music stops.

  “Dawn, do you know what this is?” Victor asks.

  I’m afraid I do, but I’m not ready to face it yet.

  “We really need to get going,” I say. “I can look at this later.”

  “We can take the time now.”

  I shake my head. “Not yet.”

  “When you’re ready, just let me know. You don’t have to face it alone.”

  I simply nod.

  First we have to pass through the gauntlet of Rachel and Jeff. Needless to say, both were caught off guard to see me walking out of my room with Victor holding my duffel bag. But considering what my life has encompassed during the past month, I’m a little past the scolding-for-bad-behavior phase.

  “The balcony,” Rachel says, nodding, as though she just answered a question she’d asked herself about how Victor had gotten past her unnoticed. Then she quickly shifts into protective mode. “You’d better take good care of her.”

  “I can assure you,” Victor says, “that if she comes to any harm, it will be because Faith, Richard, and I are all dead.”

  Instead of comforting her, his words only make her narrow her eyes. “Don’t get dead.”

  Victor grins. “Trust me. I’m not planning on it.”

  Rachel embraces me tightly. “At least I get a hug instead of a note this time.”

  I squeeze her hard. “This is lots better.”

  When I release her, I clasp Jeff quickly. “Keep her out of trouble.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Then Victor and I are walking out of the apartment, and I can only hope that it won’t be too long before I’m back. We take the elevator down. I wave at the guard at the front door before we step outside. The car is waiting at the curb.

  Victor opens the passenger door for me and I slide in. Faith and Richard are in the backseat. “Hey,” I say.

  “I never understood that term as a greeting,” Faith says. “Isn’t that something they feed to horses?”

  Her words barely connect with me. My fingers are lightly tapping the leatherette on my lap. Victor tosses my bag in the trunk before getting behind the wheel.

  “Took you long enough,” Faith says. “What were you guys doing? Having a cup of tea before you left?”

  With a sigh, Victor twists around in the seat. “Faith, don’t be a pain.”

  She holds up a hand, palm out. “Excuse me, but I need to pack.”

  “I’ll give you an extra five minutes.”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Done.”

  Trying to distract myself, I glance over at Victor. “So vampire siblings squabble, too?”

  He grins. “All the time.”

  “But I’m the one who always wins,” Faith says.

  “You think that because I make it appear that you’ve won.”

  “I’d know if I won or not.”

  Victor winks at me. “I was willing to give you a half hour to pack, Faith.”

  “And I was willing to settle for ten.”

  Laughing, Victor reaches across the console and takes my hand. “This could be a long trip.”

  I force a smile before glancing out the window. I wish I could laugh with him, but I know what my father was trying to tell me.

  My life, everything I’ve always believed, was built on a foundation of lies and I can feel it shifting beneath me, turning into dust, just as vampires become ash.

  With my father’s secrets taunting me, the drive to Valentine Manor takes an eternity. But then it appears, a looming silhouette outlined by moonlight.

  It’s huge. Looks like some sort of medieval castle. I used to hate coming here to meet with Lord Valentine, but now it’s Victor’s home and it doesn’t seem quite as foreboding. Victor stops the car just shy of the ancient front door.

  Everyone climbs out. I can sense more than see the Lessers hovering about in the shadows.

  “I’ll need to speak with my lieutenants and distribute the blood the Agency sent this afternoon,” Victor says.

  The Agency always places the blood in a refrigerated unit at the back of the house, delivered during the day. It is safer that way. Or at least it was before Day Walkers.

  We walk into the house, and the butler approaches. He’s the same one who always escorted me to Valentine. He’s tall, slender, with hair that drapes down to his shoulders. He bows slightly. “My lord, welcome home.”

  “Eustace, was the blood delivered?” Victor asks.

  “Yes, my lord. And your lieutenants are waiting in the dining hall for your commands.”

  “Very good. Please escort Miss Montgomery to the dawn room.” He squeezes my hand. “I won’t be long if you want to wait. . . .” His gaze drops to the leatherette and I imagine he’s as curious as I am. He can also sense that I’m dreading what might be inside.

&n
bsp; I just nod. I haven’t decided yet if I want to be alone with the secrets.

  He looks over at Richard. “I want you with me.”

  “Yes, my liege.” He gives a little bow.

  “Funny. Just come with me.”

  As he and Richard walk off down the hallway, Faith murmurs, “This is all so hard on Victor.”

  “You love him.”

  She jerks back. “What? No, vampires can’t love. I’ve told you that. But I’m observant. I can see how he’s aging.”

  “Would it be so awful if you could love?”

  “Love is a weakness.”

  “I thought after our talk on the Night Train that you were going to give it a chance.”

  “Uh . . . no.” She turns for the sweeping staircase. “I can imagine what drab things you might have packed. I’ll see if I can find something a bit more fashionable for you.”

  She’s taller than I am. More voluptuous. And she wears six-inch spiked heels that are better suited for use as a weapon than walking, but I just say, “Thanks.”

  She wiggles her fingers at me as she starts up the stairs.

  I turn to the butler. “I can find my way to the dawn room.”

  “Still, please allow me to take you there.”

  I follow him down the hallway. He doesn’t seem to be as stiff and formal as he was when I came here as a delegate. “Are things better under the new Lord Valentine?” I ask.

  “He is more tolerant of imperfections,” he says tightly.

  He leads me into the dawn room, then backs out, closing the door behind him. My breath catches. I’ve only been here in the dreams that I shared with Victor. It’s exactly as it was there. I saw this. I was truly here with him. How is it possible?

  Faith told me that he redecorated the room after his father died. All the paintings on the walls represent sunrises. I set the leatherette full of documents on the coffee table and walk around the room, studying each work of art. Faith also said they were a tribute to me.

  I give a little start when the door opens. Eustace walks in carrying a silver tray with a flowered tea set on it.

  “I thought you might like some tea while you are waiting for the master,” he says, setting the tray on the coffee table.

  “Oh, yes, thank you.” I amble over as he pours the tea into the delicate china cup.