With the Dawn (Faith of the Fallen)

by Cassandra Sky West

  Secrets are buried.

  She chose down. Each level she passed was a carbon copy of the floor she had started on. At each landing, she paused to listen. The thick walls absorbed sound, but didn’t block it. With her sensitive ears she would be able to hear movement, or heartbeats, instead she was met only with silence.

  The stairwell abruptly ended on the ninth floor—or at least, it appeared to. A large fire door, painted black to match the wall, was the only sign there even was another floor.

  Bingo.

  She pressed the handle and tried to shove the door open. It was heavier than it looked—heavy enough that she had to put her shoulder into it. After a few seconds of pushing, the door reluctantly slid open.

  This must be another one of those “vampire only” doors.

  Illumination beyond the door forced her eyes closed. The brightly lit hallway curved slightly, with doors on either side, spaced ten feet apart.

  This was the place. She recalled it perfectly. Her run up the stairs had gone by floor after floor of hotel looking hallways. She looked over her shoulder. The stairs went up . . . the two levels were opposite each other.

  Servants’ quarters? Paralleling the guests’ quarters all the way up to the surface. How many servants does she command?

  A quick count told her there were thirty rooms on the floor. With ten floors, it was obvious that Bella commanded the fate of hundreds of humans.

  Alexi couldn’t believe that many people could disappear without anyone looking for them. But then again, she had.

  Alexi paused in front of a door and pushed lightly on it. To her surprise, the door swung silently open. The room was dark, and it took her a moment to find the switch. It was a small room—almost as small as the room Savanna had first taken her to after finding her in the alley. It was barely large enough for a cot, toilet, and shower.

  But what did the vampires care? This was just where they kept their food.

  The room looked oddly vacant. Even a thrall would need a change of clothes, shower supplies, and toiletries. She quickly searched through the dresser, followed by the bathroom. No one lived here. The next room down the hall was the same, as was the next and the next. Halfway down the hallway, a set of stairs went down and to the left. It ended after twenty feet in front of a double door with a large bar across it.

  Well, hello, Mr. Fire Door. Where do you go?

  Alexi hesitated with her hand in front of the door, trying to control her nerves. Her heart thundered in her ears; it was all she could hear. The panic, the fear, the confusion—everything she had felt during that first few minutes of wakefulness—flooded back into her as if it had just happened. She made a fist to stop her hand from shaking and pushed through the door.

  Everything was just as she remembered. Several tables occupied the middle of the room. Both walls were a grid of refrigerators for storing bodies.

  A wave of nausea swept over her, and she reached out to steady herself on the wall. How many people had they done this to? She remembered the woman who had been murdered as she lay, awake and terrified, inside that dark little space. A painful scream echoed in her mind.

  Why? Damn it, why?

  Alexi wanted to scream, to knock over the metal tables and tear down the walls and burn this whole damn place to the ground. It wasn’t enough that they’d killed her. They’d taken away everything she had—her family, her life—and everything she could have been. But that wasn’t enough. Then they’d brought her back as . . . a monster.

  She covered her mouth with one hand, trying desperately to hold back tears that were full of rage and despair. What did she have now? An eternity of what she’d seen . . . and done . . . in the rooms upstairs? Part of her enjoyed the feeding. Holding a helpless person in her arms and making them beg her to take their life.

  Maybe all vampires started out like her—horrified at what they were and determined not to give in to the monster. But maybe . . . eventually . . . they did.

  Alexi wished, not for the first time, that she had died in that parking lot—or even here in this room. Whatever she had been, whatever life she had before she was attacked—that was all gone.

  What did she have now?

  She saw Savanna’s face in her mind and then Victor’s. How desperate would he be if she didn’t come back out of this place? How deeply would Savanna blame herself?

  Alexi dragged her wrist across her eyes and shoved away from the wall. She was going to leave this place. And then she was going to find a way to destroy it.

  ***

  “What do you mean she works with the Arcanum?” Bella tried to hold her rage in check. In her heart, she knew the girl in front of her possessed incredible power, but she couldn’t reconcile that with what her eyes told her.

  Illyana didn’t even look like she was drinking age. She was pretty, by human standards, like so many of the empty, mortal nothings that danced upstairs.

  “She nearly killed me,” Illyana said matter-of-factly. “And she banished the demon you hired me to procure.”

  “You’re mistaken. The Arcanum doesn’t work with vampires,” Bella replied. “Much less a suckling such as that one. And who of our kind could banish a demon? Not even Dupree could manage that.”

  “She didn’t do it alone. My daughter is more than a match for any demon. With a powerful vampire at her side—she might be unstoppable.” Without waiting for permission, Illyana turned her back to Bella. “She’s your problem now. I’ve discharged my duty to Dupree.” She left without a backward glance.

  Bella gripped the arms of her throne so fiercely that they began to crumple and give way beneath her grip. Rage at Illyana’s insolence warred with her fury at the vampire she had dined with not an hour before.

  “Carl!”

  Her servant came scurrying from some dark corner, bowing hastily as he approached the dais.

  “Fetch Morgan and your sword,” she commanded him. “We have an intruder.”

  Bella flipped open her phone, thumbing through the numbers until she found the right one.

  The line picked up on the first ring.

  “You’re not supposed to call me,” a man said on the other end. “They monitor this line.”

  “Then answer quickly. Did the Arcanum take down a demon with the aid of a vampire?”

  He didn’t speak, but Bella could hear his heart race and his breathing quicken. “Yes.”

  She snapped the phone closed. How could any vampire stop a demon? Even with the help of a witch? She shook her head, growling.

  One woman, no matter her power, wasn’t a match for Bella.

  ***

  There, on the far side of the room, was a door. Alexi hadn’t seen it the last time she was here. It was easy to miss—set flush with the wall and painted the same color. It was a little wider than a normal door—just wide enough for one of the wheeled metal tables discarded in this room.

  Alexi pushed the door open. The room beyond was dim but not completely dark. The only light came from an array of electronic displays. Her eyes took a moment to adjust. The room was filled with the soft beeping of machines and a whooshing, mechanical sound. Darkness faded as her vision cleared.

  The room was immense. Hundreds of medical beds lined the space, filled with sleeping people. Men, women, old, young, clean, and dirty—it didn’t seem to matter. Each bed came with an attached breathing machine and life support monitors.

  A soft whir caught her attention. A small girl, no more than sixteen, lay in the closest bed. Her chest rose and fell with the ventilator next to her. Dirt and grime covered her face, and her clothes looked like they’d seen better days. The noise that had caught her attention came from a small circular machine. Dread filled her heart as she realized its purpose.

  It fed her.

  Alexi looked to the room crammed with people on life support.

  They’re . . . they’re food storage.

  There was no sound to alert Alexi to the presence of someone behind her—she had only the
sudden, undeniable sense of no longer being alone. She whirled around to see Bella standing in the doorway, with a familiar-looking man standing beside her.

  “When Illyana told me who you were, I was genuinely surprised,” Bella purred. “Congratulations, that hasn’t happened in a long time.”

  Ice flooded through Alexi’s veins. She tore her eyes from Bella’s face to look at the man standing beside her. He had large sideburns that ran down to his mouth, and she suddenly remembered where she had seen him before. There, in his right hand, was his sword.

  “Ah, you remember Carl, do you?” Bella said. “He remembers you, too. You killed his best friend, and he’s quite anxious for vengeance.”

  Alexi reflexively took a step back as Carl came at her with his sword raised overhead. Nerves, fear, indecision—everything vanished.

  Carl’s sword sliced through the air in slow motion. Alexi ducked to the side. She slapped the flat of the sword, turning it aside. Her other palm slammed into his chest. Carl flew through the air and crashed into the wall.

  Bella stood in the doorway, eyes wide. Morgan stood at her shoulder, and another vampire she didn’t recognize stood behind him.

  “You want me?” Alexi spat at them. “Come get me!”

  Morgan was a blur as he came at her. Her head snapped back as his fist connected with her face. She scrambled backward, reeling from the blow, mouth filling with blood. She kicked upward and connected with his chest. He grunted. She danced out of reach of his next blow.

  She rolled to the side and leaped over a gurney. With a kick, she sent it flying at him. The gurney’s occupant tumbled limply to the ground, tearing life support tubes loose.

  How long was this me—kept alive by machines as food?

  Morgan gestured to someone, and another vampire joined the fight. She blocked a clumsy kick from the newcomer. She spun and kicked him in the face. Bones broke under foot. Blood spattered against the floor.

  Something connected with her hip, shooting pain down her leg. She crashed into the wall and banged her head against the hard surface. She dropped to the ground just as Morgan drove his fist through the wall. Plaster showered down around her.

  She kicked at his knee. He screamed. She shot to her feet and brought her fist up under his chin. The blow sent him flying.

  Another fist flew toward her face. She grabbed the arm, turned, and jerked it down across her shoulder. Bone cracked. An elbow to her attacker’s face finished him. His skull caved, and his body slid twitching to the ground.

  “Bella!” Morgan cried, pulling himself to his feet, favoring one leg.

  Why weren’t they healing?

  Victor’s blood and her rage fueled her. She blocked a clumsy kick from someone, spun, and brought her foot up to his face. He screamed as she broke his teeth. Her head crashed into the wall from a kick. She bounced off and used the momentum to drive her elbow into the top of a head.

  The cranium caved in.

  “What the shit! Bella, help!” Morgan screamed.

  Alexi caught his foot and twisted. He jumped with the twist. Alexi reversed it midair. He screamed as she wrenched his knee from its socket.

  The bleeding from her cut lip had ceased almost immediately, and she couldn’t feel the throbbing in her head from where she’d hit the wall. She had healed, but her attackers didn’t seem to be.

  Carl had peeled himself off the wall and was screaming something at her as he charged. His words were lost in the pounding of her heart. He ran at her, sword held out like a spear.

  Alexi waited until the last possible moment—and then one moment more. Just before impact, she flung herself sideways. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him off balance, and at the same time, her other arm elbowed him in the face. He dropped the sword. She scooped it up before it hit the ground, shifted her hands to the hilt, spun, and sliced the blade in a wide arc at neck level.

  Carl’s head went flying.

  His body stood there for a moment before dropping to its knees and crumpling into a pile.

  His skin blackened and burst into flames. A dark pool of mist formed beneath him. The sound of millions of wailing voices floated up from beneath—screams of the damned. Black tendrils latched onto Carl. His flesh exploded in a fire leaving behind a shadowy outline of the man. The tendrils pulled him down. The shade of himself, an image of his soul, struggled and screamed for mercy as he slipped through the portal.

  The red light the hole in the floor faded as did the screams from below.

  Alexi looked up at Bella. The woman’s eyes were wide with fear. What the hell just happened?

  A heartbeat passed, and then Alexi realized she didn’t see Morgan. Where was—

  Something slammed into her from behind. Morgan’s arms wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides. They crashed into the wall together. Pain shot through her neck and down her spine.

  She couldn’t see Bella, but she could smell her. Close. Fangs buried into her throat. Alexi struggled, and Morgan tightened his hold. Bella grabbed her head and forced it painfully aside, biting again and again. Alexi whimpered from the pain. As Victor’s blood was pulled from her veins, Alexi felt her strength abandon her.

  No.

  Alexi poured what was left of her strength into one big push, trying to kick off the wall. Morgan stumbled back and then regained his grip. He braced his whole body against her as she struggled.

  Bella fed, and through that link, Alexi tasted her in return. Victor was warm and fierce. Savanna was sweet and pure and full of hope. Bella was empty, cold, and bitter.

  Victor’s blood left her, and Alexi wept, helpless in Morgan’s grip. Victor’s warmth was gone, and in its place was an inky, oily stain that nothing would ever clean.

  Darkness overwhelmed her.

  TWENTY

  The pink dawn burst from behind the clouds. Yellow rays assaulted Victor’s eyes, forcing them open.

  “Alexi,” he muttered as he cleared his vision. It took him a moment to recall where he was. His stomach dropped when his brain caught up with reality. The sun was up. Alexi had never come out of the club—and now she was trapped there until sundown.

  Even if he went in to get her, he couldn’t bring her out into the daylight.

  He glanced at his phone. Messages from Savanna told him that Nikki was okay—confused, but okay. The poor girl was someone’s thrall, but she wasn’t sure whose.

  The Arcanum’s information about thralls was woefully out of date. Technically, a thrall had to agree to enthrallment, but apparently there weren’t many limits on how one reached that agreement. Nikki had been abused to the point that she would have agreed to anything just to make it stop.

  And who knew what they were doing to others in there. Maybe even Alexi.

  Fury coursed through Victor’s veins at that thought, and his own growl startled him. He could shift right now and charge into that club after her. As powerful as the vampires were, they wouldn’t be ready for him. They had no idea what he was capable of.

  He’d probably die, but not before he found her. Maybe he’d give her an opening to get out.

  Is that where we are? Am I ready to die for her?

  Immediately, his heart answered yes.

  This wasn’t because he owed her. It wasn’t because of her generosity in taking him in, in giving him a place to be and a reason to live.

  The world was better with her in it. He was better with her—so, so much better. He didn’t want to be without her ever again.

  If that was love, then . . . fine.

  I love her.

  She just needed to make it on her own until sunset. Then no power on earth would keep him from her, even if he had to rip that place apart, brick by damned brick.

  ***

  “Dupree, she killed him in a way I’ve never seen.”

  Bella’s voice reached Alexi’s ears as she floated upward out of unconsciousness. She hurt. She hurt. “I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s like . . . she exorcised him. She tore his s
oul out of his body and . . . sent it to hell.”

  “You saw this yourself?” The man’s voice was thick with an accent Alexi recognized as French. She held very, very still, trying to keep her breathing steady and even. She didn’t want them to know she was awake.

  “Yes. His body started to burn, and a hole opened up in the ground. His soul—or whatever you want to call it—went screaming below.” Bella sounded a little panicked. “What is she?”

  There was silence for a moment. Alexi felt her strength returning, moment by moment. Cold metal encased her wrists and suspended them overhead. She was hanging by her wrists, slumped against a wall. Just a few more minutes, and maybe she could break the chains.

  “She’s awake,” the man said.

  Damn. The jig was up. Alexi opened her eyes. She grabbed hold of the chains and pulled herself to standing. Her knees shook, but they held. The man in front of her was six feet tall and thin with dark hair. His features were refined and pleasant. The pressure against the back of her head was enormous. It burdened her like a boulder until she let it pass.

  The man tilted his head to the side, appraising her. After a moment, he wrinkled his nose in disapproval. “American cow.” He turned to Bella. “Find out if she knows anything. If not, sacrifice her with the others. Her parlor tricks might impress you, but I’m not interested.”

  Alexi snorted. “Cow? Really? That’s the best you can do? Am I supposed to be offended?”

  “No, my dear,” Dupree said mildly, not even turning back to look at her. “You’re supposed to die horribly after you betray everything you believe in.” He left the room without begging Bella’s leave. He moved like a man who expected obedience.

  The immense pressure in the back of her head eased with Dupree’s departure but didn’t disappear altogether.

  “Tell me about the Arcanum.” Bella’s lightly accented voice flowed in the air, swirling around Alexi’s ears and urging her to speak. The pressure in the back of her head swelled again. She felt a sudden need to speak, to tell Bella everything she wanted.

  Is this how it feels when I push people?