After Daybreak: A Darkness Before Dawn Novel

by J. A. London

  “Why are we stopping?” I ask. The car has heavily tinted windows that the sun can’t penetrate.

  “It’s a struggle for us to stay awake during the day,” Victor says.

  “But I could drive.”

  “And if you run into any trouble that requires our help?”

  “Yeah, I guess that could be an issue,” I say reluctantly.

  Reaching across the console, he wraps his hand around mine. “Right now we have the luxury of being able to spare a few hours.”

  I nod. He’s right. What difference will a few more hours make?

  As we climb out of the car, the front door of the manor opens and a tall, slender man with slicked-back black hair rushes down the steps. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it! Company. Old Family. Victor Valentine.”

  He takes Victor’s hand and pumps it. “I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve had visitors.” He looks at me. “And this is . . . not a vampire.”

  “No,” Victor says quickly. “This is Dawn.”

  “Your blood diva?”

  “Yes.”

  I jerk my head around to stare at him. He shakes his head slightly. Apparently in the worrying about the death warrant against the Montgomerys, we didn’t get a chance to discuss how we would play things here.

  “Ah, Faith, you are as beautiful as ever.” The Old Family vampire who doesn’t look any older than Victor takes her hand and begins raining kisses over it.

  “Oh, Xavier,” she coos. “You flatter me.”

  “As much as possible. I’ve not seen a female since my father sent me to watch over his territory. How fortunate you are, Victor, that your father wanted to oversee his own estate. Come, come, inside quickly before the sun catches us.” He wraps Faith’s arm around his and begins to lead her toward the house. Tossing her head back, she laughs and pats his shoulder.

  I glance over at Richard. He doesn’t look happy.

  “He ignored you,” I say. “That was rude. I thought Old Family was all about etiquette and politeness.”

  “They’re also about subtle insults.”

  With that caustic statement, Richard marches toward the house. I’m so accustomed to him being carefree and light that I don’t know what to say.

  “Xavier Romanelli gave him a cut direct,” Victor says as he escorts me up the steps. “In the 1800s, it was a common way to show someone you disapproved of them.”

  “Why would this guy disapprove of Richard?”

  “Because he’s competition for Faith.”

  “Okay, I get that, but why did you tell Xavier that I’m your blood diva?”

  “So he’ll keep his fangs out of you. Vampires won’t take blood from another’s diva without permission. And it was simpler than trying to explain why I’m taking a human to New Vampiria.”

  Once we’re inside, a footman closes the door behind us. I’m not surprised by the beauty of the surroundings. Marble, gold, statues, paintings.

  Richard is leaning against a wall, arms folded over his chest, glaring at Xavier as he keeps touching Faith’s arm, shoulder, hand, and cheek.

  Xavier looks at Victor. “Faith tells me that you’re going to the Vampire Council, but surely there is no rush. You could stay a night or two.”

  “I’m sorry, Xavier, we are in a hurry. We stopped here only to wait out the sun. We can rest on the floor.”

  Xavier puts his hand to his chest and drops his jaw, clearly insulted. “Don’t be silly. I’m already having beds prepared.” He looks at Faith. “You can’t leave the moment the sun sets. You must at least stay for a night feast. I have the most marvelous cook, a Lesser who prepared meals for Napoleon himself. The food is a sensual delight. Please, it’s been so long since I’ve entertained. And your diva must eat in order to nourish you properly. It’s so important to keep her blood fresh.”

  He licks his lips a little, eyeing me. Faith catches this and jumps in front of him, and he stares right into her low-cut dress.

  Faith smiles. “I suppose we could—”

  “Faith,” Victor warns.

  “An hour,” she says. “Where’s the harm?”

  “Wonderful!” Xavier shouts, and claps enthusiastically.

  Because I’m Victor’s diva, I’m given a room to share with him.

  It contains a large four-poster bed with a canopy and heavy velvet drapes hanging down from it. A low fire is burning in the fireplace in front of a sitting area. Faith is right: Vampires have exquisite tastes whether they are decorating rooms or people.

  “I need a moment,” I tell Victor, and walk into the bathroom. I’m taken aback by all the gilded mirrors, vanities, and artwork. Okay, so maybe they aren’t as infallible in taste as I thought.

  I lean toward my reflection. It’s the first minute I’ve had to really examine myself since we discovered what was hidden in the music box. I don’t know what I expect to see. My black hair, my blue eyes, the crucifixes tattooed on either side of my neck. I pull my mouth back and run my tongue over my teeth. No fangs.

  Somehow I thought I would look different. I thought I would spot something I’d overlooked before. I thought I would see some evidence of vampire.

  “You’re still you,” Victor says right behind me.

  I scoff. “I hate that you can do everything so quietly.”

  “Do you really?” he asks as he comes up behind me, puts his arms around me, and meets my gaze in the mirror.

  “I hate that you can sneak up on me and I can’t sneak up on you.”

  “You snuck up on me,” he says. “Maybe not physically, but in other ways. I never expected to feel for you what I do.”

  “Even knowing what I am?”

  He turns me around, cradles my face. “It doesn’t matter what is coursing through your veins. You’re Dawn.”

  I wish I could believe that. “How many times did I tell you that you couldn’t escape what you are, that you couldn’t escape being a monster because it’s in your blood?”

  “You’ve also told me that I’m not a monster.”

  He brushes his fingers along my hair, a soft but protective gesture. “We need to get some sleep. It’s going to be a long drive.”

  Threading his fingers through mine, he leads me into the bedroom. The couch in front of the fireplace has been shoved back and pillows have been scattered about. Ignoring the bed, Victor guides me over, sits on one of the pillows with his back against the couch, and pulls me down so I’m resting on another pillow, my back to his chest.

  “Thought you were tired,” I say, my voice low, my heart doing little flips as he skims his finger along my neck and brushes my hair off to the side until it drapes over one shoulder.

  “I am.” He presses a kiss to my nape. “But we’ve had so little time together. I miss the way we were able to be together in the dreams we shared.”

  “If we go to sleep now—”

  “Dream-sharing, according to Faith, only happens when the couple is separated by a great distance. But it’s okay, because I no longer need to dream of protecting you; I can actually do it.”

  “For someone who doesn’t believe in this stuff, she sure knows a lot about it.”

  “My sister is complicated. But then, all girls are.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re the most complicated of all.”

  “Like you’re not complicated,” I tease. His arms close around my waist. I fold mine over his and grow somber. “What about us, Victor?”

  He presses his head to my shoulder. “We’re complicated.”

  “Do you still crave my blood?”

  I hear him inhale. “It still smells sweet, but I can resist it.”

  I swallow, trying to understand the consequences, trying to understand more about what I am and how it might affect my relationship with Victor. “Sin turned Brady—a dhampir—into a vampire.”

  “Yes.” He places his warm lips on the curve of my neck, right where it meets my shoulder. Pleasure pools through me. “So you’re still not complete
ly safe from me. I could turn you.”

  “But you won’t,” I say with conviction.

  His arms tighten around me. “I won’t.”

  I shift around so I can look at him. “You said I was your weakness, that your enemies would use me to get to you.”

  He gives me a wry grin. “Where Sin is concerned, it appears I may have been a bit narcissistic. He wants you for you. He has plans for you that won’t go away even if I’m dead.”

  “Then where does that leave us?”

  He traces his fingers over the curves and hollows of my face as though he treasures each feature. He leaves my lips for last, outlining them before stroking them, as though he’s a painter filling in between the lines. “I don’t know, Dawn,” he says so quietly that I almost don’t hear him. “I don’t know where it leaves us.”

  He kisses me, gently, softly, as though I’m fragile. Or maybe he fears our relationship is.

  “We need to sleep,” he says. “Obviously dhampirs don’t feel the weight of day in the same way that vampires do.”

  He struggles to his feet, pulling me up with him. We both climb onto the bed and position ourselves similar to the way we were sitting by the fire, my back to his chest, his arms wrapped around me.

  As sleep drags me down, my mind wanders to the Council and the thirteen hungry glowing eyes staring at me through the darkness. Then I feel Victor pulling me nearer, holding me more tightly, and all my worries subside, leaving only the possibilities of something better for us . . . once we’ve dealt with Sin.

  I wake up to a steady knocking on the door. With a moan, I work my way out of Victor’s embrace and sit up. The fire in the fireplace has died. I feel incredibly rested. Somehow I can sense that it’s night.

  Victor rolls out of bed, crosses the room, and opens the door. He chuckles. “No.”

  “Yes.” Faith pushes her way in. She’s wearing an elaborate red ball gown, something that was worn two hundred years ago. It’s satin and lace. Bares her shoulders. It rustles with her movements. She’s carrying something that looks similar, only it’s deep purple. She tosses it on the bed. “Dinner tonight is to be formal.”

  My eyes widen. “You want me to wear that?”

  “Xavier does. Leave, Victor, so I can help her get ready.”

  “Faith—”

  “We promised him an hour,” Faith says, cutting him off. “It won’t kill us to be dressed for the occasion. Your clothing is in Richard’s room.”

  “I’m not wearing any of it; what I have on is fine.”

  “Oh, Victor, relax, have a little fun.”

  “Fun? Faith, you may enjoy changing outfits every hour, but putting on clothes once a night is enough for me.”

  “I don’t change clothes every hour.” She sniffs. “Every half hour maybe. Now, go on, get out of here. We have work to do.”

  “But we are leaving as planned.”

  “Of course.”

  Victor gives me a smile filled with apology before walking out of the room and closing the door.

  I crawl over the bed and touch the soft material, rubbing it between my fingers. I had to wear Victorian clothing when I met with Murdoch Valentine, but it was more suited to funerals than parties.

  “I realize you’d be more comfortable if it came with a hood,” Faith says.

  I glance up at her. “It’s beautiful. It’s just that it’s not me.”

  “When I’m finished with you, for the next hour, it will be.”

  Faith does more than help me get into the gown. She fixes my hair and applies makeup. When I look in the mirror, I can hardly believe what I’m seeing. Faith curled my hair so it’s full and flowing down my back. The gown is cut low, a little too low. I tug—

  “Leave it,” she orders.

  “But I feel like I could pop out of it.”

  She chuckles softly. “You won’t.”

  The deep purple material makes the blue of my eyes brighter. They also appear more almond-shaped, exotic. Faith did that, with liner and shadow. My lips are a glistening vibrant red as though they are waiting to be kissed.

  “I don’t know, Faith.”

  “Trust me. Victor won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

  Faith is right. When we enter the dining room, Victor looks as though he’s never seen me before. He strides over and gives me an appreciative smile. “You look—”

  “Like Old Family,” Faith says quietly.

  We both jerk our head toward her.

  Faith shrugs. “She wasn’t nearly as difficult to clean up as I expected.”

  My face heats with embarrassment.

  “Dawn is always beautiful,” Victor tells her, then winks at me. “Even when she’s wearing a hoodie.”

  Faith growls low, but with his words, the warmth turns to pleasure. I’ve never had to pretend with him.

  Like Xavier and Richard, he’s wearing a black dinner jacket that’s long in the back. Swallow-tailed, I think it was called. His white shirt is pristine and he has a red cravat—an old-fashioned tie—around his neck.

  “Faith, you look magnificent,” Xavier gushes.

  She bats her lashes at him. “You’re so sweet.”

  “Come, a quick meal and then we shall dance.”

  “Xavier, we don’t have time,” Victor tells him.

  “An hour, no more, I promise. You must indulge me. I’m so lonely here in this dank, dreary manor.”

  “We promised, Victor,” Faith reminds him, and then lets Xavier lead her to the table.

  “You promised,” Victor mutters before offering me his arm.

  “I guess this is the way vampires usually entertain,” I say as we walk over to a ridiculously long table.

  “We can’t do anything simply.”

  Xavier sits at the head of the table, while Victor and I are on one side, Faith and Richard on the other. I can’t complain about the food. I’m served steak and various vegetables. Everything is delicious. While vampires derive no real nourishment from food, they do enjoy the sensations of taste.

  I glance over at Richard. He’s not enjoying anything. Not eating, not drinking, not joining in on the conversation. Probably because no matter to whom Xavier is talking, his gaze is always honed in on Faith.

  “The Council just didn’t give any thought to the inconvenience of putting humans within walled cities,” Xavier says before sipping from an ornate silver goblet that I’m pretty sure doesn’t contain wine. “Someone has to watch them. But there is nothing except desolation around the cities. No one comes to see me. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve seen an Old Family female? How can I court? How can I bond?” He takes Faith’s hand and presses a kiss to it. “How can I entice her into being my mate?”

  “Have you explained all this to your father?” Faith asks. “Maybe he can send one of your brothers to watch over the territory for a while.”

  With a pout, Xavier sits back. “I have. He doesn’t seem to care. I simply wait around for the sun to rise, the sun to set, and blood to be delivered. Night in, night out. Week after week. Month after month. Boring.”

  “Do you get enough blood?” I ask.

  He jerks his gaze to me as though he’d completely forgotten that I was there. He furrows his brow. “You allow your diva to speak?”

  “She’s very knowledgeable,” Victor assures him. “I’d like to know the answer to her question.”

  “Not as much as we used to. I shall have to punish them soon. But I don’t want to think about that now. Let’s dance.” He gets up, goes to an old phonograph sitting on a table, cranks it up, and sets a needle on a disc. After a few moments of static the room fills with scratchy music. Xavier rushes over to Faith, bows slightly, and holds out his hand.

  “Xavier—” Victor begins.

  “I know. You must leave. But what is three more minutes?”

  Faith places her hand in Xavier’s. “Yes, Victor, what is three more minutes? Dance with Dawn.”

  She goes with Xavier to an emp
ty space on the other side of the room, and they begin to glide over the floor with graceful movements. It’s very different from the way I dance at parties. Xavier has a hand on her waist. Hers is on his shoulder.

  Victor stands and extends his hand to me. “Dawn?”

  I gaze at him, standing there, looking incredibly handsome, so enticing. “I don’t know how.”

  “Just follow my lead.”

  I can’t deny that I’ve always wanted to dance with him, to have a moment that seemed normal. I follow him to the uncluttered area. Taking me in his arms, he sweeps me over the floor.

  I want to laugh with the joy of it. Gazing into his eyes, I can almost forget that the world around us is such a mess. It’s only the two of us, keeping in perfect rhythm, even when the music skips and plays over, skips and plays over. A broken record.

  I feel elegant and beautiful in this gown. I’ve never worn anything this elaborate before. If this were a fairy tale, I’d be a princess. But I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Victor says quietly. “I wish I could give you more moments like this, when there is nothing but the music and the two of us. No worries, no evil, no problems.”

  “Is this what Old Family life was like before the war?”

  “We had balls and dances almost every week. But we had orchestras playing the music. Not scratchy old records that grate on the ears.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “I miss the peace of it. The laughter. The happiness. Everything changed when we came out of the shadows. We couldn’t hold on to this any longer.”

  “Xavier is trying to.”

  “Yes, many do.”

  They hate technology and modern conveniences. I try to envision what it was like back then, but I’m distracted by the candlelight in the chandeliers as the flickering flames cause light to flutter over Victor’s face. The shadows ebb and flow. It’s magical, lures me in, and I realize that I’m nearer to him than I was when we started. My skirt brushes against his legs. My hand has moved from his shoulder to his neck. I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. I could fall into the blue depths of his eyes. I wish we could stay here, constantly moving in a circle over the polished hardwood floor.