Darklight

by Forrest, Bella

  “I should get a special accolade for allowing you to convert me into a human,” he muttered, making a visible effort not to move his lips as he spoke.

  “I’m just following orders,” I replied, reminding myself as much as him. It was hard to remember that I was just doing my job, when I had to sit next to Dorian on his bed.

  After blending more thoroughly, I finally thought I was getting the hang of this. I decided to do one last layer, then added a touch of blush to mimic human blood flow. I leaned back once more to evaluate my handiwork.

  His ice-blue eyes seemed too alive for the rest of his human-toned face, and his jawline and sharp cheekbones looked weird without the flickers of shadows. Still, even if my disguise wasn't professional, in dim lighting it would be convincing. I had always been a perfectionist, and I had to say, given my limited experience, this actually wasn’t too bad.

  That ache in my chest had returned, though, in spite of my having eaten earlier. Maybe the lunch had been too acidic—too many tomatoes on my salad? I rolled my shoulders, ignoring it. I’d take something when we got back if it was still an issue.

  "How does it look?" he asked, his eyes narrowed with a hint of suspicion, searching my face for clues.

  "It'll do," I replied. “Now, what options do you have for clothes?” My professionalism returned to my voice.

  I glanced at the small stack of folded clothes on the end of Dorian’s bed. He reached over and pulled out a simple black button-up shirt and khaki pants.

  “I found these a few weeks before we met. I was exploring a city, and someone tossed them in a dumpster,” he explained, touching the fabric. “I was lucky. I think they’ll work for this.” He looked up at me, the hint of blush on his cheeks warming his face.

  I imagined Dorian dumpster-diving and realized I shouldn’t be surprised that he was so resourceful. I was dealing with someone determined to survive. I wondered how I would fare with my skillset, if I had to struggle to make it day-to-day like Dorian and his kind.

  "We should get going. Bryce will be waiting for us," I said curtly, practicing my professional tone for when we were around Bryce again. It needed to be perfect before we joined him.

  “Right,” he replied grimly. “Let’s hope nobody is paying attention.”

  I frowned at that, confused, but backed out of his cell so he could change. I stood beside his door, back turned, trying to ignore the sounds of brushing fabrics and a zip.

  Do not think about him putting on pants. And definitely don’t think about what he looks like before he puts on his pants.

  I was usually focused and professional. This wasn’t me.

  He stepped out of his cell, looking like he was ready for a business casual day as a bank teller. I studied him for a moment and nodded with satisfaction. He looked perfectly ordinary, though that face could never be entirely ordinary.

  The two of us headed toward the door while I wondered what he’d meant earlier. It became quite clear as soon as we stepped out of his secluded cell.

  "Ooh, look at that!" Sike craned his neck around the bars of Bravi's cell. "Hey, pretty lady, what’s the occasion?” he shot at Dorian.

  Of course the other vampires would find this just as weird as Gina had found me stealing foundation. In fact, it was probably weirder.

  Dorian jerked his head, signaling me to keep walking. But the others weren't going to let him get away that easily. All around us, shocked stares bombarded us, and a few more hoots and hollers came from some of the other vampires. Kreya sat on her bed, covering her laughter with her hands. Rhome stared, his head tilted in confusion, amusement glittering in his eyes. Apparently, the entire facility’s worth of vampires just happened to be out in the hallway to stare. Even Laini watched with a small smile, her usually sad eyes brightening slightly, and Harlowe called for Rayne to come look. Even old Thoth set down his book to watch the “Dorian the Human” show; he stood in the doorway of his cell, arms crossed over his stomach, emitting slow, booming laughs.

  "I know we're getting along with the humans really well, but you don't have to turn into one, Dorian," Sike called.

  Bravi snorted. "Leave them alone so they can go enjoy their”—she grimaced—“date.”

  Gina had thought so, too, but the vampires’ jibes, some good-natured, others less so, were fifty times more embarrassing than my friend’s had been. I snatched a glimpse at Dorian and found his face exasperated but amused. He rolled his eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at his mouth.

  Kane watched from down the hall, his face displaying his usual lack of amusement, but this time there appeared to be genuine worry in his eyes. That disconcerted me. Because of their intense bickering, I hadn’t realized he might also care about Dorian.

  Laughter rippled through the cells. Before we had gone more than six more feet, Dorian raised a hand.

  “Now, now, everyone, I know that I’m irresistible. But please control yourselves.” Laughter broke out around him, and he grinned back at his friends and family. I caught myself laughing, too, startled. Dorian could roll with the punches.

  "I’ll explain everything later,” he said, holding down a laugh.

  Sike howled and leaned against a bar. "Oh, don't kiss and tell, Dorian!"

  Kane scrunched his nose in disgust and retreated into his cell.

  I sealed my lips together, containing my own laughter. Dorian grinned at me, then shook his head with raised eyebrows. We made our way out of the vampire wing, dodging echoing laughter and weird looks from soldiers in the halls—one of whom I handed the used makeup plate off to.

  “Nothing like friends and family to knock you down a peg, huh?” I joked to Dorian as we walked.

  “Any chance they get,” he muttered absently, looking ahead to where Captains Bryce and Clemmins spoke quietly at the main entrance.

  "The transformation is complete!" Bryce said, with an enthusiastic grin. He was getting to see vampires do all kinds of things lately, and his enjoyment was palpable, as always.

  "Indeed,” Dorian said. I caught a glimmer of humor in his eyes. Had he realized that Bryce behaved differently around vampires? “Much to the amusement of the entire wing.”

  "We're ready, Captain," I said, my voice tight with excitement. My nerves shifted to anticipation of flying and our mission for the night. Professional Lyra was back in the building, although weird-and-anxious-around-Dorian Lyra lingered in the back of my mind.

  "Best of luck, everyone." Clemmins winked to us. "Knock 'em dead." Bryce had informed the other captains of our side project in order to ensure things would be handled properly back at the facility while he was gone. I was excited to see Clemmins as pumped about this as I was. I nodded to him, relieved that I wouldn’t have to hide this secret project from my higher-ups.

  The three of us made our way across the tarmac. The desert expanded out around us, and the crickets thrummed loudly.

  Dorian surveyed the sky expectantly, and it seemed our excitement had rubbed off on him, because he shifted unnecessarily on his feet. After no more than a moment, his redbill whizzed overhead.

  The bird circled above us and made a point of slapping its long black wingtip feathers over the back of my head. I glared at it, pushing my hair back out of my face, but I had to admit it was a little funny. For a bird. The redbill chirped and gurgled sweetly at Dorian, ignoring me and Bryce. At least it wasn’t trying to eat us—that was definitely a step in the right direction.

  Captain Bryce typed into a handheld GPS device. It beeped, and he handed it to Dorian.

  "That'll keep you on course," Bryce said. "Keep your bird in the loop, so to speak."

  "Yes, Captain," Dorian said. “Thank you for choosing Redbill Airlines.” His tone was so curt and his face so stoic, it took me a moment to register the joke. I bit back a startled laugh.

  As the redbill landed and bobbed over to us, I caught myself staring at Dorian. In the fading evening light, the makeup wasn't quite so noticeable, and it was a shock to see him looking so differe
nt. So human. I realized that I preferred him the way he was naturally. The makeup covered that otherworldly, opalescent glow of his skin, turning him into a mannequin of himself. That could’ve just been my mediocre makeup job, though.

  "Captain, may I ask you to sit in the rear to evenly distribute weight?" Dorian asked politely.

  "All right," Bryce said, rubbing his hands together. He would be eager to get on a murderous flying monster. He rolled his shoulders like he was warming up for a workout. "Any advice for a first-time flier? Tips and tricks of the trade?"

  "Don’t fall off," Dorian said, deadpan. Bryce raised his eyebrows in amused appreciation. It didn’t surprise me that these two were starting to get along so well.

  Dorian mounted first, soothing his bird with a hand on its neck. Then he helped Bryce up, giving him instructions in a calm, even tone. Bryce listened intently, nodding when Dorian paused. I was last, hauled up by both men and sandwiched in the middle. The bird was big enough for all of us to sit relatively comfortably, but it was definitely cozier—and weirder—than it had been with just me and Dorian flying. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with Bryce straddling me from behind, but duty called.

  The bird clacked its beak and loped down the tarmac. It leapt into the air, and Bryce remained calm and quiet but noticeably tightened his arms around us.

  We rose toward the clouds, and the redbill circled once before pointing northwest. The wind rose to a howl, peeling at my eyelids as our speed increased.

  I put my face behind Dorian's shoulder and closed my eyes. The flight won’t be too long. Just don’t think about Bryce’s thighs touching you. I felt the warmth emanating from Dorian’s flexing back muscles against my chest. This was going to be a practice in thought compartmentalization; I had to not think about either of the bodies around me.

  I knew this was just business, but I couldn't help but wish Dorian and I were alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Our bird soared over the blazing lights of Las Vegas. After the long stretch of complete desert blackness, the size and brightness of it was awe-inspiring. A million headlights traversed serpentine highways, and downtown, towering structures flashed and glittered, showing off the whole spectrum of visible color. Even from above it looked loud and gaudy. It would’ve been an incredible view if I hadn’t been wondering about the next step in our plan—and been a little squished between Dorian and Bryce.

  The redbill twitched its head nervously as we descended, but every time it seemed too unsettled, Dorian brought it back to ease with the touch of his hand.

  The federal police building stuck out amongst lines of strip malls and towering apartments. It was taller than the others and completely black, serious and forbidding compared to the bright palaces of escapism in downtown. Our bill circled twice before landing in a flurry of wings, tossing back its head.

  A tall, lanky figure emerged from the roof access door as we dismounted. Bryce must have alerted his friend to our arrival.

  The captain wavered on his feet after hopping off the bird, shaking his head a little. Even after all his years of experience, I guessed he found it hard to adjust to flying so fast. But, just as I would expect, he quickly regained his composure as he greeted his friend. He rolled with the punches, just like Dorian.

  "Jim, you've gotten taller," he said as they clapped each other heartily on the back. Up close, Jim had thin-rimmed glasses and an angular face.

  "And your accent has gotten uglier," Jim replied coolly. They grinned at each other. Jim’s eyes bounced between all three of us and the redbill, though he seemed remarkably calm for being in close proximity to two supernatural creatures, regardless of the fact that he’d been briefed.

  Captain introduced me. "This here is First Lieutenant Sloane."

  I leaned in and shook Jim's hand. "Thank you for inviting us, sir," I said. The man’s handshake was firm, almost testing. He seemed competent, even though he had a sense of humor.

  "My pleasure," Jim said to me, though he looked past me to Dorian with intent, fixated eyes. He showed no fear; it seemed more like he was analyzing the situation, trying to suss it out. "And this must be our newly humanized friend." Jim’s voice lilted with just a touch of humor again, but it didn’t mask his seriousness. I imagined working under Jim would be rewarding. His manner had a good balance of businesslike and easy-going.

  Dorian offered a smile and nod, extending his pale hand to Jim for a shake. "Dorian Clave," he said evenly. His posture was straight, his shoulders set in perfect confidence.

  "Let's head to my office, shall we?" Jim turned and led us into the police building.

  We entered his office, a dark room with wood-paneled walls. Jim had a desk somewhere beneath the mounds of papers—clutter was apparently another thing he and Bryce had in common—but Jim sat on the same side we did, his knees pointed toward Dorian's.

  "I'm going to get right to it," he said, and folded his hands in his lap, maintaining his businesslike air. "As harrowing as it was to have vampires among us back in the day—no offense—I honestly believe that right now, overall, things are worse. That’s why I left the Bureau. I think I’m more needed here."

  Bryce nodded, his eyes serious. Though the two had greeted each other like friends, it was clear that this was no casual meeting. Dorian and I leaned forward in tandem, listening intently.

  "You two know how out of control our crime rates are," Jim continued, turning his gaze on Captain Bryce and me. His face turned to stone as he spoke. His humorous edge completely dissolved. "This past half-decade has seen unprecedented growth of all types of crime. It's so bad that we've had to control how much the media is allowed to cover, in order to keep some semblance of calm among the population. Not only are we fighting skyrocketing crime rates, we're having serious personnel issues inside the police force itself. Corruption just keeps rearing its ugly head, I'm afraid."

  He sighed and leaned back, the gravity of his words weighing heavily on the room for a moment as we all took them in. I’d known things were bad, but hearing it put like that was sobering.

  "You never were much good at interviewing people," Bryce said, in an attempt to lighten the solemn mood. "Hell, you hired me."

  "Biggest mistake of my life," Jim said, breaking his stoicism with a smile, which faded as quickly as it arrived. "Another interesting fact is that we've seen a decrease in missing persons. Most murder victims are found." Jim glanced at Dorian this time, evaluating his reaction.

  Dorian remained calm, listening intently.

  "That said, my deepest concern is for the future. If this trend continues, how bad will it be in five, ten, fifteen years? We can't keep up. We need to find another way to get a handle on the situation.” Jim’s eyes were somber. Dread filled me at the thought of the violence growing exponentially year after year—we couldn’t let that happen.

  He cleared his throat and lightened his tone. “So, I'm currently looking at… nontraditional resources. Hell, I must be desperate if I'm willing to work alongside this nut-bag again." Jim tilted his head to indicate Bryce.

  "Missed you, too," Bryce said under his breath. These two would’ve been a handful to work with together.

  Jim turned his attention to Dorian, adjusting his glasses on his nose to inspect the vampire. "I'm invested in your cause, Mr. Clave. Not only for professional reasons, but for everyone’s wellbeing. Depending on how this evening goes, I'd like to help you build a case to present to the Bureau. Hopefully they'll listen, for once."

  I squinted at him, rolling his last sentence back through my head. His intentions sounded good, maybe even promising. At least he seemed to be taking the situation seriously.

  "I appreciate that, sir," Dorian said.

  "I'm sure you're aware that even if this works out, the government won’t let you and your pals run around killing whomever you please like you did in your heyday," Jim said. "But your alleged skillsets could bring some stability to this dumpster fire we've been trying to put out for years. Everyone, e
ven vampires, could benefit. If you do have this ‘specified predation’ thing, whatever you call it, we could pinpoint certain cases for rehabilitation before they even harm anyone."

  Dorian frowned, shaking his head with a somberness that mirrored Jim’s earlier tone. “That won’t work. There is no way to cure a human of their darkness.” An uncomfortable silence settled after that matter-of-fact pronouncement.

  “Leave that to the therapists, sonny,” muttered Bryce. Dorian shot him a skeptical glance but shrugged it off.

  Quiet filled the room as the humans pondered what Dorian had just said. Jim tapped a finger on his bottom lip, his eyes still calmly studying the vampire. Bryce squinted in concern, though he’d initially been his usual brash self. He couldn’t hide the fact that he deeply cared for people, just like I did; it was why we worked at the Bureau to begin with.

  Even if vampires couldn’t cure someone of their ill intentions, they could help us locate those who needed help in order to change. I’d always firmly believed that anyone who wanted to change could do so. It was in everyone’s power to control their actions, and even more so, it was their responsibility. People could struggle with their darkness, but no one was beyond help. Dorian might believe that, but he didn’t know everything. I knew that if this project succeeded, he could be proven wrong.

  "So," Jim said, leveling his voice to pull us back on track and away from our thoughts. "I assume you were briefed on the little exam I have arranged for you this evening. I need to see for myself what we're dealing with."

  "I was informed that you were curious about my skillset," said Dorian. His composure remained steadfast and earnest. Bryce and I exchanged a look of anticipation, our excitement rising again to see what was in store for the evening.

  "We have a lineup downstairs with a variety of individuals. Some may be innocent, and some may not be. I'd like you to tell me who's who." Jim rose from his seat, and the rest of us did the same.