After Daybreak dbdt-3

by J. A. London

  I am a vampire.

  I am a vampire.

  I am a vampire.

  I’m a dhampir. Oh, what is that? you ask. Well . . .

  Say, Clive, how well did you really know my father?

  Guess what?

  Maybe I should start with a joke, lighten the mood—

  So a vampire and a delegate walk into a bar . . .

  Nothing seems adequate. There’s just no easy way to say this.

  I’m grateful when I see the wall so I can start thinking about something else. I spot smoke billowing out in a couple of streams within the city. Day Walkers are still wreaking havoc.

  At the gate, I show my credentials and am waved through. Encountering the destruction again makes me wish that I’d taken time with Eris and forced her to tell us what she knows about the Day Walkers in the city. Fewer people are out. I can’t blame them for staying indoors, and my anger is renewed. We shouldn’t have to live like this.

  Crossing over trolley tracks, I turn down a street—

  Crash!

  A Day Walker lands on the hood of the car. Revealing his fangs, he pulls his hand back to smash through the window.

  I swerve and he goes sliding off. Reversing, I run over him. The action won’t kill him, but it’s bound to break bones and slow him down while he heals. I floor the pedal and race down the street. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see him squirming. I should have stopped to finish him off, but it could be a trap with his friends lying in wait.

  I take evasive maneuvers, going around one corner and then another. I should have asked for an escort at the gate. Hindsight is always better. In hindsight, we should have staked Sin the day we met him. Too bad we didn’t know what he was.

  I come to a screeching stop outside my apartment building, jump out, lock the door, and race up the stairs. In the lobby are two additional guards, stakes drawn. Extra precaution is being taken. Good.

  “Is everything all right?” one of the guards asks.

  “Yeah, just ran into a Day Walker in the city. It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

  “Their attacks have become random, unorganized. In some ways that makes it worse.”

  Unorganized because now we have Eris. I so wish that I didn’t have to leave the city, that I could be here to fight.

  Once I step into the apartment, I’m hit with the realization that I haven’t been back here since the night I left for New Vampiria. I’ve changed so much and yet I relish the comfort of home. Rachel’s not here, so I’m sure she’s at work.

  I go to my room and grab my cell phone from where I left it on my desk. I didn’t take it with me. Who would I have called? I send out texts to Rachel, Michael, Tegan.

  My place. 8. Dinner.

  I add a note to the one I send Clive: Bring Ian.

  I don’t text Jeff. Rachel will know the invitation includes him.

  I’ve taken two steps when I get a response from Tegan.

  Coming over now.

  As much as I miss her, as much as I want to see her, I need some alone time to psych myself up.

  No. Don’t. Planning a surprise.

  Does it involve you and Victor? Wink.

  I ignore her question and just reply: See u at 8.

  I wander into the kitchen. It’s always been Rachel’s domain. But really, how hard can it be?

  Hours later, I’m ready to scream. I used Rachel’s recipes, but she must not list all the ingredients because nothing tastes the way it does when she makes it. The cake is flat. The cheese dip keeps hardening. When I take the chicken out of the oven, it is almost as cold as it was when I took it out of the freezer. Is the oven not working?

  The doorbell rings and I jump. I look at the window. How did I miss night arriving? And who’s here already? Tegan? I still have an hour to go.

  I march to the door and yank it open. “Go away, you’re too ear—”

  I stop. It’s not Tegan. It’s Victor, dressed in jeans and a black button-down shirt. He’s holding a large box.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He gives me a soft smile. “Did you really think I was going to let you do this alone?”

  I blink back the tears. “I’m so glad you’re here. What do you know about cooking?”

  “That my chef is very good at it.” He steps through the doorway and I shut the door.

  “What’s in the box?”

  “Prepared food. All we have to do is put it in the oven—good God. It looks like one of the Infected came through here.”

  I punch his shoulder. “It’s not that bad.” Although it kind of is. “While I appreciate you bringing food, I really wanted to make it myself.”

  “You are making it. You put it in the oven, it cooks. You can even stir it if you want to get industrious.” He sets the box on the counter.

  “I’ll show you industrious.” I flick some flour at him.

  “Hey! I can take my unwanted food and go.”

  I leap forward and grab his wrist. “No. I don’t know if I’m distracted or what, but I just couldn’t seem to make sense of the recipes.”

  “Then cook what I brought.”

  I nod. “You didn’t happen to bring someone to clean up the mess, did you?”

  He pulls me in close. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

  Although a little tension exists at first, when everyone realizes that Victor is here, it soon dissipates as the food is served. They’ve never had a meal as flavorful as the one Victor and I present. But then, Denver doesn’t have any chefs. Victor explains that the chef is a French master cook. His only regret in life is serving Murdoch Valentine years ago at a party held in Versailles. The vampire was so impressed with the food that he decided to turn the cook and keep him forever.

  After dinner, people congregate in little groups to talk: Michael and Tegan, Clive and Ian, Rachel and Jeff. They are relaxed and smiling.

  “Your chef didn’t put something extra in the food, did he?” I ask Victor. “You know, something to alter the state of their minds?”

  “I think they’ve just had a good meal for the first time in a very long while.”

  Clive and Ian amble over.

  “Just wanted you to know,” Clive says, his voice low, hushed, “that your Lessers have been immersed into one of the Night Watchmen units.”

  “Was there any trouble?”

  “Could have been,” Clive acknowledges, “but we have a young Watchman who has considerable experience fighting alongside vampires. He convinced the others to give this idea of yours a shot.”

  Michael.

  “I’m impressed with Anita,” Ian says. “Wouldn’t have wanted to encounter her during the war.”

  “She’s one of my best,” Victor assures him.

  I remember Anita. I saw her in a dream I once shared with Victor. Her hair is nearly white, and she has a striking presence, like she was cut from a beautiful block of marble.

  Ian and Clive wander off to get more wine.

  “I guess I need to do this.” I exhale my breath.

  “Remember you’re not alone.”

  I squeeze Victor’s hand. I try to imagine how I would react if Tegan told me she was a dhampir. But I just can’t envision it.

  “Okay, everyone,” I call out, “I have an announcement to make, so if you could please gather around.”

  Tegan drops into a chair, pulls her feet up. Her smile is so big, her eyes so bright that I know she thinks my announcement involves declaring that Victor and I are a couple, maybe even engaged. Rachel and Jeff sit on the couch and hold hands. Clive takes a nearby chair. His feet braced apart, Ian stands at the edge of the circle as though he isn’t quite sure he belongs here.

  Michael’s steady gaze is on me. I think he knows what I’m going to announce. He’s leaning against the door, his arms folded across his chest as though he’s preparing for battle.

  Victor moves in behind me, places his warm hand on the small of my back, steadying me, strengthening my resolve.


  Tegan gives the tiniest little squeal. She’s probably envisioning what she wants for her bridesmaid’s gown.

  I swallow with difficulty. The words—

  “Okay, there’s just no easy way to say this. Michael already knows.”

  He unfolds his arms. “Dawn—”

  I shake my head. “Sin didn’t lie, Michael.”

  He takes a step forward. “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes, I do.” I turn to the others. “I’m part vampire.”

  Tegan’s smile remains, but it is as though she’s frozen in shock and can’t get her muscles to move. Rachel and Jeff are looking at each other. Clive is shaking his head. Ian is as still as a statue.

  I take another deep breath and rush on. “You know there are fourteen Old Families. Centuries ago, there was a fifteenth. The Montgomerys. I’m a descendant, the result of a vampire mating with a human.” Could I get any more clinical, sound any less emotional? “I’m what they call a dhampir.”

  “Bullshit,” Tegan finally says. “If Sin told you this—”

  “He did, and I didn’t believe him. But my father left me a recording saying the same thing. He had documents to prove it.”

  Victor slips his arm around my shoulders, brings me in close. “The Vampire Council recognized her claim when we were in New Vampiria. But it does not change who she is.”

  “Of course it doesn’t,” Rachel says, but doubt edges her voice.

  Tegan pops out of the chair, steps over to me, and gently grabs my wrist. “So you’ve got a drop of vampiric blood in here somewhere,” she says, feeling the pulse on my wrist. She then places her hand on my chest, where my heart is. “But Victor is right. Dawn is in here. And that will never, ever change.”

  I hug her then and there, and she holds me tight.

  “You’ve been the best friend in the world,” I say.

  She pulls back and smiles that Tegan smile of hers. “Yeah, I have been pretty good, haven’t I?”

  Before I can respond, Rachel is skirting past her and wrapping her arms firmly around me. “Of course, you’re still you.”

  “I guess that explains why your family has always understood vampires so well,” Clive says, patting my back.

  “Her heritage comes with great responsibility,” Victor says. Everyone looks at him. “She proved herself worthy of a seat on the Vampire Council. Her vote broke the tie that would have prevented the Old Families from supporting a war against Sin.”

  “Wish I’d been there to see that,” Tegan says.

  “Unfortunately”—I look over at Clive—“every family is required to send a representative to Los Angeles. Since I’m the only Montgomery, I have to go.”

  “I’ll go in your place,” Ian suddenly announces.

  I snap my gaze over to him. It still doesn’t look as though he’s moved. “Thank you, Ian. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that, but it has to be a family member.”

  “So adopt me. Will that work?”

  Victor tilts his head back, thinking about it. “There might be a way. You could take a blood oath.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  “You don’t even know what it is,” Victor says, smiling.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  I clutch Victor’s arm. “I don’t want someone else to fight for me.”

  “There’s going to be plenty of fighting to go around, and your place is here.”

  “Victor’s right,” Clive says. “Denver needs you.”

  “Besides, the Night Train is in Los Angeles,” Ian says. “I was going to go back for it anyway.”

  Walking over to him, I place my hands on either side of his face. “Now I know why you’re the greatest vampire hunter who ever lived. And it has little to do with the number of vampires you killed.” Rising up on my toes, I kiss his cheek.

  “You’re going to make me blush.”

  Make him? When I step back, I see that he’s already turned red.

  “So how does this blood oath thing work?” he asks.

  Victor withdraws his stake. “I pierce your palm, then Dawn’s. She presses her palm to yours and you’ll swear an oath that your blood will always spill before hers.”

  Ian nods. “I’ve got so many scars, what’s one more?”

  Victor digs his stake into Ian’s palm until blood pools around it. I see the apology in his eyes when he does the same thing to me. It pricks, stings, but I don’t let the discomfort show.

  I flatten my hand against Ian’s.

  “My blood will always spill before yours,” he says.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I whisper. “It’s too much.”

  “Say it will never spill in vain,” Victor whispers. “That’s your vow to him, a recognition that you value his loyalty.”

  “I promise it will never spill in vain.”

  “So it is done,” Victor announces.

  So it is done.

  Chapter 20

  Ian and I return to Valentine Manor with Victor. Ian to await the arrival of the Old Family. Me to help Victor break Eris.

  I spend the day with Ian. He regales me with tales from his vampire hunter days.

  That evening, Victor, with briefcase in hand, goes to see Eris, alone, asking if she wants to talk.

  Ian and I wait in a massive office where Victor manages his correspondence. It’s a show of extravagance when a room bigger than my entire apartment is used just to write notes and send them away in sealed envelopes. The two French doors, twice my own height, lead to a wonderful balcony that gives an unimpeded view of the countryside.

  There isn’t much there. Desolate and vast, mountains in the distance seem to breathe cold air over us. The clouds are few and far between on this night, gliding across the sky, avoiding the moon as though out of courtesy for the light it gives.

  Victor strides in and sits in an exquisite iron chair.

  “Any luck?” Ian asks.

  “She told me to go to hell.”

  “That’s very un-emissary-like of her,” I say.

  Victor flashes a smile. “Yes, it is.”

  “I could take a pass at her,” Ian offers. “She wouldn’t be the first vamp I’ve interrogated.”

  “She would be the first Day Walker.”

  Ian shrugs. “They’re all afraid of stakes.”

  Victor considers it, then nods. “All right, Ian, if you want—”

  The door to the office opens and Eustace steps into the room. “Lord Valentine, several guests have just arrived.”

  “How many?”

  “I counted twelve carriages, sir.”

  The Council. They came through.

  Victor, Richard, Faith, Ian, and I go outside to greet the arrivals. The black carriages, each pulled by powerful horses, stand like massive coffins in the night. They’re ornate, each adorned with the crest of the Old Family it represents. And standing beside them are the vampires themselves.

  “Victor Valentine,” I hear one of them say. He’s huge, pushing seven feet, his shoulders so broad they would block out the moon if I stood too close.

  “Fabian Ferdinand.” Victor approaches him and shakes the man’s massive paw.

  “Good to see you again. Ah, and Richard Carrollton.”

  “The last time I saw you,” Richard says, shaking Fabian’s hand, “you barely came up to my elbows.”

  “It’s the Ferdinand blood; we grow like weeds. And this . . .” He looks at me and smiles. “This must be Madame Montgomery.”

  “Pleasure,” I say, giving a small curtsy.

  “Please, the pleasure is mine. I heard you made quite a splash at the Council meeting.”

  “There were one or two surprised faces I seem to recall.”

  Fabian approaches me and his size is even more evident. He gets down on one knee and I can look right into his eyes.

  “I knew that one day the Montgomerys would return and take their rightful place,” he says.

  “Fabian, I don’t know how to thank your family enough
.”

  “Simply be proud of who you are. Every breath you take is a reminder that Errol Ferdinand was right. And now, more than ever, it is clear. The Montgomerys were not some monstrosity, nor did they signal the downfall of vampires. The Montgomerys could have saved us from such a terrible war if they had been allowed to live. And now, you can bridge the gap between humans and vampires.”

  I’m at a loss for words. Fabian simply smiles again and stands. He approaches Victor and Richard.

  “I have brought eleven Old Family with me,” he says. “Every family is represented, except the Ashers. Each representative here is willing to die in order to stop this madness that Sin has created.”

  Twelve is one too many. Victor doesn’t seem surprised by the number. He must have expected one family to send two representatives. I wonder what the story is.

  I look at the Old Family soldiers. Each one is young and dashing, rivaling Victor and Richard in looks. But I see no women. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Even if they are fast and strong, they’re simply too rare to risk. And speaking of Old Family women, I look over at Faith to see if she’s eyeing any potential suitors. But all I see is worry in her eyes.

  “We brought human drivers and hunters to steer the carriages and protect us while the sun is out,” Fabian continues.

  I can see through some of the glass panes into a few of the carriages, their human counterparts inside, stakes bandoliered across their chests. I know Old Family at times hire humans to protect them. They demand the best and are able to pay for it. Even if some of these humans fought in the war, like Ian, they’re willing to set aside their differences for the right price.

  “Madame Montgomery, it is my understanding that you’ll be coming with us.”

  “No, actually, Ian Hightower is going in my place.”

  Fabian stiffens, looks past me to where Ian has been waiting. “Well, Slayer, I have heard stories of your heroics. You have no need to worry about us wanting revenge, as long as you don’t want the same.”

  “It was war,” Ian says. “We were on different sides then, and we did what soldiers do. Now, it’s a different war, and we’re on the same side.”

  “Then we are of like minds. Have you a carriage? If not, I would be honored to have you ride with me.”