New Dawn
Copyright
Sharon Stevenson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Copyright © Sharon Stevenson 2017
All rights reserved. Thank you for buying an authorized edition and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning or distributing any part of it in any form without permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction and includes the creation of fictional towns. Any resemblance to real persons or places is purely coincidental.
Dedication
This story was inspired by and named for Dawn McFadden. Thanks for the kind words that gave me the starting point for this novella.
New Dawn: Part One
Second Start - Dawn
Chapter One
Someone is singing. It’s the first thing I pick up on, the thing that awakens my senses; before I even open my eyes, I hear her. The girl’s voice is far away and haunting, full of raw emotion. It pinches at my own pain to hear it. A song about loss, the agony of a broken heart. I start at the sound of my own voice, humming along to the melody. Please, no.
The demon possessing my body ignores my plea. Nisha doesn’t acknowledge me at all anymore. She moves towards the window and I keep begging her. I know when I see the twisted smile on her monstrous face reflecting in the glass that she heard me.
My reflection isn’t human anymore and it pains me every time I see it; the glowing amber eyes and sharply defined bone structure belong to the vampire, along with the fangs that stay hidden until she opens my mouth. Her gaze drifts out to the street as she places a hand on the glass and takes in a deep breath.
“Yes,” she whispers insistently, moving swiftly back towards the bed.
Tristan. The sight of him splits my feelings in half. I know I shouldn’t like him at all, he’s a monster like Nisha, but I can’t help the sparks of attraction that ignite when he’s close. He’s naked, and his hard body is where her gaze likes to linger the longest. I know if I had control of myself I’d blush madly at the sight of him and leave the room, unless, maybe, he looked at me like he looks at her...
She runs her hand over his sleeping form and leans in to place a kiss on his shoulder. He moves and his warm hazel eyes blink open. He narrows them at her. She knows he doesn’t like to be woken up.
“I’ll bring back a treat if you stay awake for me, Trist,” she promises, her tone suggestive.
No, please don’t, not again. I can’t stand to be a part of another threesome where the ‘treat’ gets viciously slaughtered after she’s provided enough amusement for the night. The thought makes me sick. Please, Tristan, refuse.
“Aye, okay then,” he tells her after a pause, the light Irish twang to his accent melting something in me despite the deadly intent behind the words. His slitted gaze drifts over her body (my body) before she turns away from him.
It’s going to happen. I don’t want it to, but it is and it’s going to make me wish I was properly dead all over again, not just undead and playing unwilling host to a demon.
She moves at a leisurely pace into the apartment hallway, humming lightly the same song that had awoken us. If I was in control of my body right now I know there would be goose bumps breaking out all over my skin. She’s going to find the girl and I don’t even want to think about what’s going to come next.
Please don’t. I can’t handle any more of this torture.
She hums a little louder. I know it’s useless. There’s purpose in every step she takes, every movement that takes us from the inside of the building to the outside world. She walks out onto the street without a second of hesitation, and the sound of the girl singing gets clearer. It’s a new song, different from the one that woke me, but her heart still sounds like it’s breaking as her voice carries every melancholy note out into the night. I can tell where the singing is coming from now, and so can my demon.
The girl is in her late teens, and familiar as one of the couple down the street’s regular babysitters. I don’t know her name. She always wears over-ear headphones and Converse trainers in bright colours. Her long brown hair has had every colour under the sun streaked through it at one point or another. She’s walking down the street, headphones on. I can hear the tiny sounds from them. Her voice sounds sadder the closer we get to her. There are red streaks through her hair tonight. Her trainers are purple. I try to focus on these unimportant details because there’s nothing I can do to stop what’s about to happen here.
Nisha grabs her from behind, one hand covering her mouth and halting her hauntingly beautiful singing. She stiffens in my arms, then she struggles and the demon loses patience as the teenager’s nails rake my skin. I feel it happen, but there is no pain. The girl stands no chance against a vampire. Not even if she knew they existed.
The demon transforms; my vision glows and sharp fangs extend from my incisors. I feel my face stretch and I know what I look like now. It’s the same monstrous thing I see when she looks in a mirror. Vampires are anything but pretty.
She bites into the girl’s throat and the teenager stops struggling. At first I wonder if the demon might have used compulsion, but I’m not sure how, not without looking the girl in the eye. Then I realise, the girl fainted. It’s almost a relief. Maybe she won’t have to face the agonies disguised as ecstasies the demon would have put her through.
Nisha lets her go and then slaps her across the face. I notice her wound hasn’t been healed. Blood is staining the neck of her T-shirt. Her eyes open slowly, and I know she’s under the demon’s command now.
“Follow me,” Nisha orders, turning and moving towards my apartment at a quickened pace. She doesn’t look back, not once. The girl is following. She doesn’t need to make sure.
This is when I most wish I could go to sleep, escape my reality. I’ve tried. It doesn’t work. I can’t curl up in a ball inside my own head and just block it all out. I see everything, experience all of it. As if I’m the one bleeding these people dry just for the hell of it.
“Dinner’s served,” Nisha sings as she locks us into the apartment. She yanks on the girl’s arm and drags her into the bedroom where her (my) boyfriend waits. He’s dressed now, and doesn’t seem impressed by her offering. The plain white T-shirt is new, it isn’t blood stained, and it’s fitted enough to show just how muscular he is underneath.
“You don’t seem pleased,” Nisha tells him. “What’s wrong? Isn’t she pretty enough?”
“How old is she?” His tone is hollow, strange. I don’t remember him ever being this cold with her before.
She stares at him, her confusion clear before she frowns. Her mouth (my mouth) opens, but she doesn’t get to speak.
The back-hander catches us both by surprise. My demon is thrown into the wall and lands on my back on the floor. Shock burns through me, followed by a tremor of hope. My nightmare might be over. Tristan might kill us. I don’t understand why he’s turned on her, but he has.
“Stay down,” he snarls.
He moves over her, holding her down by the throat. I stare into his warm hazel eyes and wonder what’s going on, wishing I could ask. He squeezes hard as words I don’t recognise fall from his lips. It doesn’t hurt, I don’t feel pain. She makes strained noises that sound vaguely like curse words. I realise my vision is blurring as he removes his hands. He seems to be done talking in whatever strange language that was. He leans in and bites my throat. I can feel the blood trickling out of the wound as he moves back, licking at his lips. There’s a guarded expression on his face as he gazes down at me.
“Sleep now,” he murmurs, his expression softening as he lays a kiss on her (my) lips.
Chapter Two
I hear singing again when I wake up this time, but it’s not far away and haun
ting. It’s close by and far perkier. I open my eyes and squint at the bright shaft of light that’s burning through the open curtains. I jerk back instinctively. What the hell...
I look down and realise I just looked down. I did that! I’m in control of my own actions, my own body. I move quickly, getting out of bed and rushing over to my dressing table. Shock fills me as I stare into the mirror. My own face greets me, not the face of a monster, just pale skin against long dark hair and blue eyes that look a little sleepy all of the time. I touch the mirror, not quite believing it. Was the whole vampire thing just some kind of crazy nightmare?
I whirl around and turn off the alarm clock. The radio stops as the perky pop song changes to something more angsty. Looking around the room, feeling the sunlight on my skin through the window, things seem normal, ordinary. I’ve been freed from my nightmare. A sigh of relief escapes me.
Then I spot little drops of red on the floor and reality comes crashing down on me. There’s an ugly dark stain on the carpet right where I remember being thrown last night. I touch my neck. I didn’t see blood in the mirror before and I can’t see any on my fingers now. There’s no gaping bite-wound, but I know it would have healed up. Vampires regenerate. Any non-fatal wounds heal. And that’s when I know for sure.
There’s too much, and it’s all too detailed. I didn’t just dream up murdering people, tasting their blood and wanting more while I wished it would all just stop.
I didn’t just dream up two months of being trapped inside my own body with zero control over my own actions. I mean, come on, how messed up would I need to be for that?
I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to figure it out. And then keep it completely to myself because who would listen to any of this and believe a single word?
I move to the bedroom door, fingers freezing on the handle as I start freaking out that I might not be alone in the apartment. I listen at the door for a few seconds. I can’t hear anything out there, but caution seems wise. Pulling the door inwards slightly and peeking out into the hallway, I make sure it’s clear before I step out of my room.
The white envelope is obvious against the dark hallway carpet. It’s the first thing I notice, my eyes are drawn straight to it. I see my name in red scrawled across the front—Dawn—and I hesitate to open it, until I realise it’s just pen. Felt tipped. It’s my own fault for not having any biros lying around.
I move slowly into my living room, jumping at the creak of the door as I push it inwards. If becoming a vampire wasn’t just a hellish nightmare, what happened to Tristan and the girl Nisha had brought home? Relaxing when I see the room is empty, I open the envelope and sit down on the couch to read the one-page letter.
I’m sure you’re wondering what’s going on right now. You’re not a vampire anymore. That’s a long story, but trust me, you don’t have to worry about that demon controlling you anymore. You’re free, but that’s going to cause another problem.
He’s going to come after you. I’m going to do what I can to stop him, but you need to leave town as soon as you can. Go to White Oaks. There’s a girl there called Nadine. She’s a witch. She’ll be able to help you. Tell her Connor sent you.
I really hope you take this seriously, Dawn. Whatever you do, you can’t stay here, it’s too dangerous. If you go to White Oaks I’ll be able to speak to you again and I’ll explain everything when I do.
I read it over a couple of times and put the letter down. He’s scrawled an address at the bottom, Nadine’s flat in the town centre of White Oaks. He doesn’t sign off the letter. I don’t know anyone called Connor. I take a breath and try to think about this as logically as possible.
Tristan bit me last night. Something about that non-fatal wound made me pass out. Then I woke up no longer afflicted with a demon, alone and with nothing to go on for answers but a shady note that is most likely from Tristan; I mean, who else could have written this?
If I want answers, I’m going to have to head to White Oaks. It’s not far. One stop on the train or about forty minutes on a bus would do it. I sit for a while, wondering why I’m even considering this.
I woke up from my nightmare, why would I want to take a step back in that direction? Who cares how this happened? I could just get back to normal now; find a new job and hope no-one finds my landlord’s body until I have enough money scraped back together to actually be able to pay rent again.
I sigh out loud and fold the letter, getting to my feet and going into the kitchen. My handbag is on the floor, where it was thrown from the table during one of my ex-demon’s heated sessions with her vampire boyfriend.
I bite at my lip as I place the folded piece of paper into my bag. I’m not doing this because I want to see him again. He was never mine. It only felt like he was when we were together.
I just want to know what’s going on. My skin flushes. I’m lying to myself. I want to see him again as much as I want answers, if not more. Will he look at me like he looked at her? I shiver as I make my way to the bathroom.
What am I thinking? He was a vampire, a demon; evil, like Nisha. I shouldn’t want him like this.
I look down at what I’m wearing and shudder. The dress is skin tight and way too revealing; if I bent over I’d show my naked ass. It was exactly why she wore it. Tristan hadn’t been able to resist her in it. I flush at the memory. A shower, quite possibly cold, and change of clothes, will clear my head.
Chapter Three
It feels incredible to walk around in daylight. The sun is scorching the sky. I’m probably going to end up burnt, but I don’t care. The heat on my skin is too good to run from. My outfit—a royal blue long-line vest and black skinny jeans—was the first thing I’d actually picked out in two months. Nisha had been partial to revealing dresses that I would never have been caught dead wearing otherwise. My wedge sandals are comfy and my bag matches the bronze colour perfectly.
I walk to the bus stop with purpose, determined to figure out what happened so I can put this whole ugly mess behind me.
The ride seems to take forever. I start to wonder if I’m developing some weird form of Claustrophobia. The sun feels so good, I don’t want to be out of it for even a minute. I lean against the window and gaze out into the bright summer’s day.
The address is in the centre of town. I get off the bus on the high street and look up at the suddenly cloudy sky. Just my luck, the sun disappeared while I was on the way over. It doesn’t seem cold out so I shrug off the change in the weather and get moving. I quickly realise I have no real idea where I’m going now that I’m here. Sighing, I head towards the taxi rank.
“I need to get to this address,” I tell the driver, folding the paper over to show only Nadine’s address.
The driver glances at it and smiles wryly. “You’re already there.”
I follow his gaze as he points out the building. The street sign doesn’t seem to be in sight, but I doubt he’d turn down a fare if he didn’t need to.
“Okay, thanks.” I get out and walk over to the building, slipping the note back into my bag.
Now, suddenly, I’m not sure what I’m doing here. It could be a trap. I have no idea what kind of trap, but honestly right now I’m feeling like I should just get the hell out of here, head back home and hide under my bedcovers until the world returns to normal. Denial feels easier than facing this, whatever this is.
Do I trust Tristan? I know that I shouldn’t, but what he did doesn’t make any sense if he wasn’t trying to help me. There has to be more to it.
I stand outside the building for a few minutes before I decide to venture in. There’s a buzzer system but the door is wedged open anyway. I check Nadine’s flat number but there isn’t a name listed like there is for the others. I step inside, despite my gut reaction to the first little hint that something isn’t quite right.
I walk up the stairs slowly, like I’m walking to my death... Oh wait, that already happened. Get a grip, Dawn. You want to know what’s going on. This is the way
to find out.
When I get to her door I’m not sure I should knock. This has all the markings of a trap and I’m walking right into it. I turn to leave and something stops me. There’s a girl walking up the stairs, the sound of her breathing echoing in the stairwell. She’s red-faced and weighed down with shopping bags. I can do nothing but stand stock still as she passes. I’m counting the seconds in my head. I don’t know how long it’s been since I drew a breath, but I’m definitely not breathing right now and it’s starting to feel weird that it’s having no effect on me...
That’s it! I have to know what’s going on.
I turn and knock loudly on Nadine’s door. Three minutes and I’m still not breathing? This is freaking insane. I don’t even feel faint. I hope to hell I’m not still a vampire.
The door opens swiftly and I move back slightly. The girl has reddish-brown hair and dark brown eyes. She’s slender and only slightly taller than me.
“Nadine?”
She frowns at me. “Um, yes?”
“Connor sent me.” I really hope that’s not code for ordering some kind of drugs or something.
Her face pales and her eyes widen. “What?”
I rake around in my handbag for the letter and pause; how much does this Nadine woman really need to know? “He said to tell you he sent me.”
“Connor,” she says hoarsely. “I thought...” She shakes her head and pulls the door open wider. “Come in.”
So, she definitely knows a guy called Connor then. I walk inside, still counting inside my head and getting increasingly freaked out that I’m not breathing. Am I still dead? What would that make me, some kind of ghoul?
“So, you saw him?” she asks after she’s closed the door behind us. She’s leaning against it, looking like she’s just been punched in the guts.
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