A Light in the Dusk

by K J Sutton

  He turns around in a clear dismissal, which I don’t give him a chance to reconsider. As I rush out of Bill’s office, my temples start to throb with an oncoming headache. “Smug, tiny asshole,” I mutter halfway down the stairs. At a glance, I see that Drew is nowhere in sight. He probably rejoined the other workers in the tunnels.

  Without warning, Noah appears in front of me, and I jerk to a halt. A gust of air stirs my hair. “Is it the human you don’t like, or the fact he has dominion over you?” the bounty hunter questions, sneering.

  Like the flash of a camera, I relive the night we met. His casual cruelty. I’ve never tasted the blood of a Lavender before. I wonder if that vampire edge would enhance its taste. “Neither. I just don’t like you,” I snap.

  Hearing the truth in my voice, probably, Noah tilts his head. His gaze licks up my body, as if he’s attempting to memorize everything about me, and sets my cheeks ablaze in the process. I swallow the dryness in my throat that has nothing to do with being hungry and everything to do with the wicked heat in Noah’s gaze. Damn him.

  “You don’t know me,” he replies finally, sounding unperturbed by my obvious loathing. I envy it—how he doesn’t seem to care about anything or anyone.

  In the next breath, it occurs to me that if I didn’t care, I would be the same as every other vampire in this city. Taking what I wanted, stacking up bodies all around me, and looking past them all in search of the next fuck or feed.

  In a burst of embarrassment, I notice that Noah has been watching the play of emotions across my face, something akin to interest in his. By the blood, I need to go home.

  “Look, I’m sorry you got stuck with me,” I tell Noah, stepping back. “I’ll do my best to stay out of your way—I know I’m not a fighter or a hunter.”

  “What are you, then?” Noah asks, his tone infuriatingly condescending.

  I’m so sad, so tired, that the words just slip out. “Honestly? Wishing I could be anywhere else right now.”

  The vampire presses his lips together as if he’s trying to hide a grin, but a sparkle in his eyes shows his amusement just as clearly.

  I look hard at the floor, as if doing so will magically create a portal to take me away from this place. Suddenly I remember that Noah already has a partner. “Hey, where’s your friend?” I ask, glancing around for Sylvia, as if the other vampire will be hiding in a corner.

  But Noah just says, “She’s working another case.”

  I shift from foot to feet, feeling uncertain. Can I just walk away? Why is he just staring at me? Though he must see my discomfort, Noah doesn’t say anything to ease the silence. “I noticed the bottle around Sylvia’s neck,” I blurt. “What does her husband do? As a profession, I mean?”

  His jaw tightens. “Why?”

  “Just making conversation, I guess. Or trying to.”

  Those emerald eyes pin me like a butterfly to a board. “Keep your nose out of things that don’t concern you, princess. Now, you know these tunnels better than I do. Where should we start? We need to cover our bases, which means we’re about to spend the rest of the night looking for holes in the wall.”

  “I just left a particularly shitty shift,” I say, shaking my head. Lucas’s unblinking eyes flashes before me. “I’m going home.”

  Noah arches a brow. “How quaint. You think you still get to make choices like that, princess? You think if you feel tired, that means you get to sleep?”

  Normally, his tone would rankle, but part of me drained out in those tunnels, and what remains feels like a husk. “I killed a weeper,” I tell Noah quietly, swallowing. “But not before he killed one of ours.”

  “Your first?”

  “Kill?” I shake my head. Another memory comes at me. “When I was nine, I overfed on one of the royal feeders. Weeper kill, though, yes.”

  “No, thanks. I’d much rather go home, shower, and sleep. If you really need me in order to search for a big hole in the wall, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “I could,” Noah muses, “or, I could throw you over my shoulder and haul your ass out of here. Your choice.”

  My heart tilts at the threat. “You can’t be serious.”

  “You’re about to find out.” He takes a step toward me, and I jump back.

  “Fine!” I throw my arms up defensively. “Don’t touch me.”

  Noah smirks. “We’d never get any work done if I did.”

  My molars grind, and I plaster the fakest smile on my lips. “Please stop calling me princess, okay? I’m not.” I’m shocked at the stab of pain that ignites in my chest.

  Noah must see something pass over my face, because his mouth turns down and he no longer looks amused at our exchange.

  “Alexander Travesty is a prick,” he tells me matter-of-factly. I suck in a breath as my eyes go wide.

  “You can’t say that,” I hiss when I’ve recovered, whipping my head around as if someone in the warehouse could have overheard us. “The king has ears everywhere. You need to be more careful.”

  The bounty hunter shrugs. “It’s the truth.”

  “It’s treason.”

  Flicking his tongue over his bottom lip, Noah says, “Oh, sweetheart. You have so much to learn.”

  “I don’t think I’m the only one with things to learn,” I counter bitingly.

  He just smirks at me. “Lift your shirt.”

  I cross my arms, shooting him an icy glare even as my cheeks flood with heat. “Seriously? What the hell do you think—”

  “Relax, halfling.” Noah sighs and pulls a pistol out of the holster at his hip. He undoes the belt from around his waist and reaches around me, securing it in place. “This is yours. For now. It should always be behind your back or against your firing side hip, which are the best ways to carry concealed because it hides most of the gun, keeps it close to your body, and avoids all the problems associated with carrying a gun tucked inside your pants. Got it?”

  I frown down at the gun, not sure I trust myself not to shoot my own foot. “Why are you giving me this?”

  He licks his lips, slowly leaning back. “Because if you get killed, it might get bloodstains on my clothes, and I can’t afford to buy new ones.”

  I glare at him. “You are such an ass.”

  “I’m pretty sure we’ve established that.” Noah flashes a humorless smile. “Now, let’s get to work. I have a date later, and I’d rather not reek like sewer water while she’s digging her nails into my back.”

  At this, I trip over a dip in the ground and just barely manage to avoid falling on my face.

  Noah laughs.

  The second longest night of my life finally comes to an end. I waste no time getting away from Noah.

  I meet up with everyone at the Public Works building just as they’re returning from the sewers. Drew jogs over when he sees me and wraps his arm around my shoulders.

  “Welcome back,” he says with a warm smile. “Did you kill Forrest?”

  I laugh. “Unfortunately not. He even gave me a gun, too.”

  Drew makes a sound of disappointment. Predawn light slants over the street as we walk home. Someone calls Drew’s name—it seems like someone is always shouting his name—and he runs toward a group of shapeshifters standing outside a bar. He looks back at me, as though he’d expected me to follow, but I’ve reached my limitation for social niceties today. I stay by Nina, waving at him as if to say, Find me later.

  “How was your night?” I ask his sister as we walk down the sidewalk.

  “Boring,” Nina replies, pulling her phone out of her pants. She pauses, smiling at something on the screen.

  My tone is teasing. “What’s that smile for?”

  She glances over at me, and I don’t miss the dusting of pink on her cheeks. “Huh? Oh, nothing.”

  “It doesn’t look like nothing.”

  Now Nina rolls her eyes. “It’s not a big deal. There’s just this guy I’m talking to. He thinks he’s funny.”

  “I mean, he did make you s
mile.”

  “Yeah, because it’s hilarious how not funny he is.”

  I press my lips together against a smile. “Sure. Makes sense.”

  New voices buzz around the edge of my hearing. I’m about to shut them out, push them into the background, but then I catch the sharp cry of someone in pain. My brows tug closer as I try to focus, but I’m too far away.

  “What? Do you hear something?” Nina asks.

  Frowning, I break into a run, following the cries and sounds of struggle. I stop at the mouth of an alley and spot them a second later, more silhouettes than people, even with my enhanced eyesight. They’re farther down, toward the center.

  Three males—nymphs, going off their dusky green skin and gleaming wings—surround a wealthy-looking fairy. At first glance, I worry they’re trying to rape her, but no, they’re after the purse she’s clutching in her small fists. Despite how vastly outnumbered she is, the fairy isn’t giving in or letting go. She screams, elbows, kicks, and bites at every opportunity. She’ll lose, I know. Strength always wins in the end.

  Look at Alexander Travesty.

  “Why are you just standing there?” Nina demands. I jerk my head around to find her behind me, breathing heavily. As Nina glares at me, I see my bewildered expression in her dark eyes. “Do something!”

  “What? I’m not—I don’t—”

  She cuts me off with a downward slash of her small hand. “There are watchers and there are doers, Charlie. Which one are you? Huh?”

  “Do you know anything about me?” I hiss back. “I grew up in a mansion. Surrounded by servants and bodyguards. I didn’t have to lift a finger, much less learn how to defend anyone!”

  But Nina doesn’t acknowledge this—she just stares at me for another second. Two. Three. I stand there, staring back, and I see the exact moment she draws some conclusion about me. On second number four, Nina turns away in an obvious dismissal, running toward the violent scene in the alley.

  “Hey!” she shouts, pausing to yank a knife out of her boot. Two of the attackers only glance her way before returning their focus to the fairy. The third male separates from them, laughing with a flash of yellow teeth.

  “You think you can take me, little girl?” he asks around a wad of chewing tobacco.

  Nina lifts her chin, and when I see that, I finally jerk into motion. Shit. He’s going to kill her.

  Before either of them can take another step, I’m at Nina’s side, hissing at the man with a mouthful of fangs.

  “Shit, you’re a Lavender,” he breathes, his eyes wide with a combination of fear and… greed. He’s probably thinking of all the blood in my veins, all the additive venom, which people would pay dearly for. By the ounce.

  Seeing that makes my heart stumble. But some instinct forces me to hide it, as though this nymph is an animal who can sense fear. “You don’t want to do whatever it is you’re thinking about doing,” I inform him. There’s a slight waver in my voice, so insubstantial that only Nina seems to hear it. She glances at me, lines deepening around her mouth, but I keep my eyes on the nymph.

  “Oh, yeah?” he asks. “Why is that?”

  Even I can hear the truth in my voice as I answer, “Because I haven’t fed in two days, and I am fucking hungry.”

  Now the nymph takes a step back. He darts a glance at his companions, who must’ve heard me, despite their preoccupation with the fairy—they’ve all stopped struggling. The fairy, realizing this is her chance, begins to edge away. I avert my gaze from her to avoid drawing their attention. The three males stare at me, waiting, but for what, I’m not sure. Should I run at them? Should I snap my teeth together like a rabid dog?

  “Are you fucking morons?” Nina snarls, brandishing her knife in a threatening gesture. “Get lost! Unless you want to be venom whores for the rest of your short, miserable lives. Which is what you’ll be when Charlie is done with you.”

  The fairy is gone by the time Nina finishes, and when her attackers notice this, two of them sprint in the opposite direction, toward the other end of the alley.

  The remaining nymph taps his fingers against his chin, the rings on his fingers flashing. Slowly, he starts to retreat, too. He doesn’t shout any parting threats, but there’s no need—it’s in his dark eyes, which linger on me, on my eyes, on my fangs.

  Nina and I stand there, frozen in place like a museum display, until he’s out of sight.

  “That was… epic,” Nina breathes finally.

  Not exactly the word I would use, but sure, I think. At least we’re alive. “Can we go home now?” I ask.

  Oblivious to my tone, Nina spins and slaps me on the back. “That’s the kind of hero shit we need on our side, Charlie! Keep it up. I’m seriously impressed—you were badass.”

  Our side. The words are jarring. Disconcerting. I hardly hear the rest of what she says as a line crease between my brows. After a few seconds, though, I become aware of Nina’s stare. The directness of it is disconcerting, as if she can see the truth written on my forehead.

  “Nina, being a Lavender doesn’t make me a hero,” I snap, feeling defensive, though I’m not entirely sure why. I start walking in the direction of the boardinghouse, hugging myself to ward off the cold and the feeling of unrest inside me. “I’m just… ordinary.”

  “What do you think a hero is?” the girl demands, keeping pace, despite her short legs. “They’re just ordinary people who do extraordinary things. You may not be a vampire, Charlie. You may not know how to use a sword—”

  “Is this supposed to be cheering me up?”

  “—but why should that mean you can’t be a hero in this story? Our story?” she finishes. I say nothing. Nina sighs and shrugs. “It’s your choice. You can continue with your worthless life. Or, you can become someone who matters.”

  The words echo in my head as we finish the walk home. Relief fills me when a familiar street comes into view. Up ahead, the boardinghouse awaits, made entirely of warmth and light. So much has changed from the night I first came here, I think.

  When we walk inside, the house is still. Sound drifts down the hall, the tinny laughter of a TV show—Ada is asleep on the couch, I see as we approach. The floorboards creak and groan with every step as we pass. The light from the chandelier casts spiral shadows over the vampire’s features, making her appear even younger than she already does.

  With murmured farewells, Nina and I part ways at the top of the stairs and head to our separate bedrooms. I walk into my room and, when I see it’s not empty, suck in a sharp breath. I shut the door quickly. “Jesus,” I mutter, trying to calm my racing pulse.

  “It’s Andrew, actually.” Wearing a broad grin, Drew sits on the floor, right where the butter knife I stole is hidden under a loose floorboard, untouched since the day I stole it during breakfast.

  I pull my jacket off and hang it on the metal footboard. “Well, what are you doing here, Andrew?”

  “Waiting for you. What took you guys so long?”

  Thinking about the attack makes my mood darken again. “We had a little run-in with some nymphs,” I mutter, stepping over his legs.

  “A run-in?” he says with raised brows. “Do I want to know?”

  “It’s fine—we handled it. I was kind of a badass, actually.” Smiling faintly now, I grab the cat off the windowsill. She grumbles as I set her down on the mattress beside me. Dust motes drift through the air, riding a moonbeam. I refocus on Drew and say, “Seriously, though. What are you doing in my room?”

  “Seriously, though,” he echoes. “I was waiting for you.”

  “Why?”

  Drew shifts closer so that his shoulder is touching my leg. “After what happened tonight, I figured you could use some company.”

  He doesn’t say Lucas’s name, but he doesn’t have to—those horror-filled minutes are never far from my mind. As our gazes linger on each other, Drew’s filled with genuine concern, something in my chest softens and unfurls. I pat the mattress beside me. “Come on. Kitty and I can make ro
om.”

  Drew doesn’t need another invitation—he lifts himself up and plops onto the bed, making the springs squeak. “Oh, what did Bill want, by the way?”

  I know I need to tell Drew about Noah Forrest, but reliving any part of the past ten hours is the last thing I want to do. After a brief moment of contemplation, I steal the phone sticking out of Drew’s pocket and hold it out to him. “Let’s just watch funny videos. I could use the laugh.”

  Drew hesitates for a moment, then lets it go. He unlocks the screen with the pad of his thumb. “And what does Charlotte Travesty consider funny?”

  “Search for funny cat videos,” I order him. He glances at me with bemusement and types for a few seconds. As a video starts playing. Drew leans back, getting comfortable, and I lean my chin on his shoulder to watch.

  For the next hour, cats fall and run and bat their way across the screen. I don’t think once about dead boys in tunnels or the potentially life-threatening investigation I’m now entangled in. I press close to Drew, breathing in his scent, and the cat purrs nearby.

  Our laughter fills the empty corners of the night.

  Chapter Four

  Seeing no way around it—although I briefly worry what Bill would do if he found out—I tell Drew and Nina about my conversation with our master. They look at me across the breakfast table, Nina’s expression carefully blank, while Drew’s is tight with worry. Neither of them speak.

  “People die around bounty hunters,” Penelope puts in, her lavender eyes so dark, they’re almost black. They gleam with barely-suppressed satisfaction.

  “You said the same thing about Lavenders, if I recall,” I say as I reach for the milk. “Better not get too close to me, either, Penelope.”

  The old woman’s eyes widen with outrage now, and her head swivels toward the head of the table, where Ada’s empty chair sits. When Penelope looks back at me, something in my expression makes her stand up, bones creaking, and waddle away in a rush of perfume and furious whispering.

  Silence falls over us like a net—filling the other chairs are Benjamin, Clarissa, and Erin. Before anyone of them can make a remark on my behavior, or the pathetic worth of my kind, I push away from the table and go to start on some dishes.