After Daybreak: A Darkness Before Dawn Novel

by J. A. London

  “So how did it go?” Richard asks, lounging on the couch.

  “She didn’t talk,” Victor says, putting the case onto the table. I sit in a chair. Faith drops down on the couch next to Richard.

  “But then, you didn’t expect her to,” Richard says.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “She worships Sin,” I say. “She would die for him.”

  “She’ll break,” Faith says. “Her vanity is worse than my own.”

  “She may not get a chance to talk,” I say. “She may be turning already.”

  Victor smiles. “I doubt it.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  He taps the case with his palm. “It’s cranberry juice. Nothing more.”

  Shaking my head, I laugh lightly. Victor’s plan is perfect. We couldn’t take the chance of her succumbing to the Thirst, because then she’d be useless to us, not to mention much more dangerous. Yet without any blood at all, she’ll begin to starve, and that sensation will trick her into thinking the Thirst has kicked in. I have a hunch that Eris hasn’t been starved for decades, not while under the watchful eye of Sin, who rewards loyalty with lavishness.

  “Unfortunately,” Richard says, “even if she talks, it doesn’t solve our lack of blood problem.”

  “No, no, it doesn’t,” Victor says. “Our capturing Eris was a good faith gesture. I’ll talk to Clive tonight. Tomorrow we’ll start inserting the chips.”

  I hate that idea, can hardly fathom that he’s still considering it. “Victor, you will get so much more blood if the people feel safe.”

  “You’ve always said that, but it’s never worked.”

  “Think about Crimson Sands.”

  “I’m sick of hearing about Crimson Sands,” Victor says. “It’s a mirage in the desert. It would never work on a large scale. Too many vampires need feeding, and too many people are willing to pass the responsibility on to their neighbors.”

  “Because they see it as a duty, not a privilege.”

  Victor studies me, obviously confused by my wording choice. “We have to change their attitude toward vampires,” I continue.

  “That’ll be hard to do when vampires in the city are slaughtering them,” Victor says, frustration running through his words. Though whether it’s aimed at me or the vampires inside the walls, I’m unsure.

  “The Day Walkers are the enemy,” I say. “Let your vampires be the heroes.”

  Victor nods. “I’m listening,” he says, eyes meeting mine.

  “Clive says he doesn’t have enough manpower. So here’s my proposal: Let the Night Watchmen guard the city during the day, and then let your Lessers guard it at night.”

  “The people will never allow that.”

  “We won’t tell them,” I say. “You said that you have the Lessers’ loyalty. Tell them that they are to guard the people and kill the Day Walkers. It’ll only be a matter of time before the Day Walkers are finished. Afterward we can tell the citizens who are the real heroes and who are the real monsters.”

  Victor sits back, eyes on me, then upward, looking for answers in the ceiling, contemplating all the ways my plan could go wrong. But I hope he sees all the ways it could go right. He then looks at Richard and Faith, who both subtly nod.

  “I’ll send Clive a letter tonight,” Victor says. “Only those most loyal to me will be allowed into the city. They’ll be led by Anita. None of my Lessers will question her.”

  “How will they get in?” I ask.

  Victor just smiles. “I have a few connections among the guards, those willing to look the other way for the right price.”

  “No,” I say. “No more secrets. Get them together, and we’ll march up to the gate. I’ll have Clive meet us.”

  Victor stands. “You’re right, Dawn. Clive needs to trust me, now more than ever. We should all probably try to get some sleep. It’s going to be another long night.”

  Upstairs, I clean up in a bathroom down the hall from Victor’s room. It’s all marble, luxurious but cold. Everything that can be gold or silver is. I’d love to spend an hour in the massive tub fitted with lion’s feet and gold fixtures, but that’ll have to wait for another time. I put on silk shorts, a tank, and a robe that Faith found for me. It feels so wonderful against my skin. Maybe she’s right. I should let the flannel go. I make my way back down the hall.

  It wasn’t long ago when I dragged Victor down this corridor, bleeding from the strike his father delivered, a strike that wasn’t fatal, unlike the one Victor gave in return. When I enter Victor’s bedchamber, my heart gives a little flutter. He’s waiting for me, standing beside the fireplace, where flames crackle.

  I walk over, sit on the couch, and tuck my feet beneath me. “How long do you think before Eris talks?”

  “Impossible to know. Sin instills loyalty in those he turns.”

  “How can someone so evil be so charismatic?”

  “Throughout history, those who start wars usually are. Take Roland Hursch, for example. You and I both know that what he is doing is not for the greater good, and yet the citizens believe in him.”

  “I figured you named him delegate because you wanted to keep an eye on him.”

  “I did. It was poor strategy on my part.”

  “So we’re just going to wait Eris out?”

  He sighs. “I don’t see that we have much choice.”

  “I hate the chaos that the Day Walkers are causing in Denver, but we don’t need her information to destroy the V-Processing center in Los Angeles.”

  He joins me on the couch and puts an arm around my shoulders as he presses a kiss to my temple. “I don’t like that you’re going. I’m going to send some of my Lessers to watch over you.”

  “The others aren’t bringing Lessers. And the more vampires we have, the more blood we’ll need to travel with.”

  “Then we’ll get more blood.”

  “Victor, if I’m claiming to be equal to Old Family, then I can’t be given special treatment.”

  “We’re going to disagree on this.”

  “Yes, but in the end, you’ll recognize that I’m right.”

  “Maybe,” he grumbles. He combs his fingers through my hair. I could become so lost in the gentle sensations.

  “When do you think the Old Families will arrive?” I ask.

  “Sometime in the next night or so, hopefully.”

  “Then I need to go to Denver tomorrow,” I announce. “I need to let Clive—everyone—know that I’m leaving . . . and why.”

  He places his hand on the back of my neck, begins kneading my tight muscles. “It won’t be easy.”

  “Nothing in my life is. Even falling for you was hard.”

  His eyes glitter with understanding. Having me in his life hasn’t been easy for him either.

  “Will you come back tomorrow night?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “No. I’m going to arrange a little dinner at the apartment for everyone. I’ll tell them afterward.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

  I shrug. “I’ve watched Rachel. You heat a pan or the oven and put stuff in it until it’s cooked.”

  He grins. “I’m sure it will be a very special meal.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Why do I think you’re mocking me?”

  His smile widens. “I would never mock you.”

  “Better not.” I lean into him. “I can take your message about sending in the Lessers to Clive.”

  “I’ve already sent it. I knew once you started getting ready for bed that I would have plenty of time.”

  I straighten. “It didn’t take me that long.”

  “It always takes women a long time. Faith needs at least two hours.”

  “It took me twenty minutes, tops.”

  “That’s all I needed.” He threads his fingers through my hair, holding me near. “Your friends won’t turn against you, Dawn.”

  He voiced one of my biggest fears: that they’ll look at me differently. I
remember Michael wiping his hand after he touched me in Crimson Sands. I had to fight for my place in the vampire world. Now I may have to fight for it in the human world.

  Chapter 18

  To my surprise, I wake up feeling fully rested. I roll over to see Victor lying so peacefully, as still as death. I listen for his breath and hear it softly flow in and out, his chest barely rising at all.

  My stomach growls and I worry it’ll wake him up. It’s not that loud, but to a vampire’s sensitive ears it could sound like a thunderstorm in the distance. So I slip out of bed, deciding he needs his sleep and I need breakfast.

  I quietly shut the door and head toward the stairs. I don’t know where the kitchen is, but I assume that it’s near the dining room, the infamous place where I used to meet Lord Valentine.

  Down the stairs, through another hall, and I’m greeted by the two massive Greek sculptures that flank the doors. I guess that hasn’t changed. But when I open them up, I’m greeted by something new. Someone.

  Eustace is setting the massive table.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, suddenly uncomfortable that I’m alone in a room with a vampire. Everyone else is asleep. Shouldn’t he be as well?

  “Ah, good day, Miss Montgomery,” he says. “I heard you coming down the hall. I suppose you’re here for breakfast.”

  “Yes, and please call me Dawn.”

  “Yes, Miss Montgomery. Please, have a seat, while I go inform the cook.”

  “Thank you.”

  I sit in the nearest chair, the flames crackling in the fireplace. The room, like much of the manor, has huge windows that are kept under blinds and curtains during the day. Tiny bits of sunlight slip through the bottom, but the room itself is brightened slightly by gas lamps along the wall. I always figured vampires wouldn’t like windows, but I guess they like to look out at night. An oil lamp is suddenly placed in front of me by Eustace, who seems to appear out of nowhere.

  “Please forgive the darkness,” he says. “Normally the moon and stars help alleviate that. But I’m afraid the windows must be closed for now.”

  “It’s no problem. I hate being a bother. I’ll just take some food back to the room.”

  “No, no, I won’t hear of it.”

  He continues setting the table, the napkins and silverware lined up so perfectly that I’m surprised he doesn’t have a ruler to measure the exact angles and distances. I guess he’s had a lot of practice. He looks to be in his late forties but could be hundreds of years old. I have no idea when he was turned, or even by whom. All I know is that once he was human.

  A moment later he brings me coffee and orange juice on a silver platter. “I do hope that coffee or juice is your thing,” he says, reminding me of our exchange about the tea.

  “I love coffee. Juice? I can take it or leave it.”

  “Take it or leave it where?” he asks.

  I fight back my laughter because I don’t want to insult him. Obviously he doesn’t get out much. “It’s just an expression. I’ll drink it.”

  “Very good.”

  “Everything smells wonderful,” I say.

  “You’re a guest of the Valentine house. The servants are here to serve.”

  A female vampire sets a plate loaded with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and fruit in front of me. I quickly take a few bites, only realizing how hungry I am once the aromas hit and the tastes explode in my mouth.

  “I hope this is adequate,” Eustace says.

  Is he joking? “More than adequate,” I say. “It’s amazing.”

  “I shall pass on your compliments to the chef.”

  When I finish my food, Eustace has the plates taken away and refills my coffee cup. I begin to understand what Victor meant when he once told me that the Victorian era was their glory days. This sort of pampering would have been normal for the Old Families, so they could’ve blended right in with the wealthy. I imagine them having house parties with humans, their guests being none the wiser that a vampire was host, a monster from books and legends. I have to ask. . . .

  “Eustace, can I have a moment with you?”

  “Of course, miss.”

  He stands by the chair across from me, hands folded, listening attentively.

  “You can take a seat,” I say, trying not to smile.

  He looks around, maybe confused a bit, before sliding out the chair and sitting down. He takes a moment to make sure it’s perfectly aligned with the table, then sits upright, everything about his posture faultlessly parallel and perpendicular.

  “Were you a butler during the Victorian era?” I ask. “It’s just that Old Family always talk about it, but I’ve only ever heard tales from them, never a Lesser. So I was just curious what it was like.”

  He looks up dreamily for a moment. “It was wonderful,” he says. “Everyone was polite. The Old Families weren’t at each others’ throats. There was no shortage of blood.”

  “But how did they get it?” I ask. “Without donations it must’ve been difficult.”

  “There was the occasional black sheep in the family who went out and took from whomever he chose. But for the most part, it was very civilized. Most Old Family would have Lessers infiltrate the morgues as assistants or even as morticians. There, they would drain those who had unfortunately passed. Few seemed to notice, or care, that these people loved the night shift. Most gladly gave it to them. There were also doctors who took from the living so that it was fresher. Blood-letting was not for the health of humans as the history books would have you believe, but was a secret way for us to obtain blood for the vampires.”

  I try to imagine the entire operation of getting the blood to the vampires consistently. It must’ve been a real challenge.

  “It just doesn’t seem like it would be enough,” I say.

  “Remember, fewer vampires existed back then. Whereas now there are millions, back then there were hundreds, Old Family included. And the system was much better than the one before it.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yes. Back when there were kings and castles, we simply had to steal villagers in the middle of the night. Sadly, there was simply no other way to do it. Oftentimes we would keep a human alive for years, draining him slowly in exchange for food and modest shelter. In reality they were prisoners, but it was better than taking their chances as a serf.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. That must’ve been, what? Eight, nine hundred years ago?”

  “Hmmm, something like that.”

  “Eustace, how long have you been a servant?”

  He once again looks up at the black ceiling, shadows and darkness keeping its true height a mystery.

  “Fifteen hundred years, I suppose.”

  It’s probably poor manners to gape at that, my jaw wide in disbelief, but I can’t help it.

  “Well,” I say. “You don’t look a day over fifty.”

  He laughs a little. “Thank you, miss. I was fifty-five when Leo Valentine turned me. Before that, I was his blood servant, what you kids now call blood divas. I remained loyal at that post for thirty years. This was in Eastern Europe, the heart of the Valentine holdings. Leo lived in a gigantic castle overseeing the village below. One day, a massive plague swept through the town, and I fell ill. I would have died, but Leo, in his great mercy, turned me. I have served by the Valentines’ side ever since.”

  That’s amazing. I’m talking to a walking history book, a man older than Victor.

  “What happened to Leo?” I ask.

  “He was killed by his son, Murdoch.”

  “As in, Victor’s father?”

  “Yes. I watched young Murdoch being born, held him in my arms, tutored him as he grew older. But I always knew, deep in my heart, that he would ascend the throne violently. It was a very bloody time for the Valentines. Murdoch killed many of his own family, all of them vying for the throne. When it was over, the Valentine dynasty was greatly weakened. It would have been destroyed by the other, more powerful families at the time. But Murdoch quickly gained a r
eputation for being ruthless and cunning. I think that time in his life, when he was battling constantly, stayed with him forever. Until, of course, Victor followed in his footsteps and slew him.”

  It seems like it runs in the family. And now, it’s brother against brother.

  “What was Victor like when he was young?” I ask.

  “Bright. Caring. Compassionate. Not unlike his own father at the same age. When the war finally broke out, I watched him go off, knowing that he would change, just as his father had. One cannot fight for so long without the scars building on one’s soul. Even if he chooses not to show them, the scars are there.”

  I think of a young and happy Murdoch Valentine, something I never even imagined was possible; but it was. Then I see him changing, becoming bitter over time, killing his own father, ascending, and then finding that the world is much more difficult and unforgiving than his idealism made it out to be.

  “But Victor’s different, isn’t he?” I ask.

  Eustace smiles, knowing that this question means more to me than I care to admit. “In more ways than you can ever imagine. And please tell me if I speak outside my bounds, but do you know what the biggest difference is?”

  “What?”

  “You.”

  Chapter 19

  After I finish breakfast, I get dressed and go into Victor’s room. He’s still sleeping. I’m not surprised since the clock in the hallway indicates it’s only two in the afternoon. Before we went to bed, he told me to take his car to Denver. I give him a light kiss on the cheek, grab his keys, and head out.

  I consider paying Eris a quick visit, see how she’s holding up—or not holding up as the case may be—but decide her isolation will do us more good. She’s accustomed to being the center of attention. Being deprived of it is probably as tortuous as the belief that she’s going to become one of the Infected.

  The drive into the city is lonely with no passengers in the car and nothing but my own thoughts bouncing around my head. The last time I drove was the day after Victor overthrew his father, and I had to get back to the city to tell Clive what had happened. Now I have something else momentous to share, and I’m dreading it. My thoughts center around how I’ll break my news, what I should emphasize.