Dawn till Dusk: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Genesis Crystal Saga Book 1)

by Becky Moynihan

  I frowned, tracking her wraith-like movements. In all the times I’d stumbled across her on patrol, I’d never once seen her so distracted. Absent. A spark of concern flared in my chest.

  “Are you . . . okay?” I swallowed, rubbing at my neck. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d asked someone that question. And I knew how many times I’d asked a shifter that—none.

  Attached to the building’s corner was a thin rickety stairwell, and she climbed a few steps before gingerly taking a seat. I stood there, studying her. She looked fragile. Breakable. Something simmered in my gut then. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time, not since—

  My hands formed fists. Walk away. She’s not your problem. Don’t get close. Only pain will come of this. But, for once, I didn’t listen to the voice in my head. I approached her warily, silently, unsure how she would react. “Reagan?”

  Her lashes fluttered. She blinked, meeting my gaze as if seeing me for the very first time. “You said my name,” she whispered. The cadence of her voice, so small and vulnerable-sounding, tugged at my humanity.

  I couldn’t stop myself from lowering onto the step below hers. With our height difference, my eyes were level with her neck. That’s when I noticed a new mark faintly illuminated by a nearby street light—a red, angry brand seared into her blistered flesh. The shape reminded me of a . . . I squinted. As the image sharpened, heat surged through my veins.

  “Who did that to you?” My voice was like a whip, harsh and biting.

  She flinched and pulled her hair over her shoulder, hiding the brand from view. A barb of panic pierced me. The strong and mighty Night Enforcer flinched? I didn’t know what to make of the movement. A minute later, she still hadn’t responded, and I was left to form my own conclusions. I thought back to the day’s events: her stepping in yet again to scare off a pack of shifters from killing me, her vouching for me in front of a seething—

  Mordecai. That look he had swung her way.

  Oh Gaia. That brand was my fault. She had suffered because of my stupid, hot-headed words. Because she’d vouched for a low-life Fae. I waited for vindication to wash over me—needed the surge of adrenaline—but the feeling never came. Instead, I felt rotten. She had helped me for some misguided reason, and all I brought her in return was pain.

  You’re bad luck, my mind jeered. This time I listened. But not before doing something I shouldn’t. Slowly, carefully, I feathered a finger down her arm, the one inked with a koi fish the same hue as her eyes. Where my skin touched hers, I pushed my healing magic. Directed the thin threads toward her neck. Not a lot—I didn’t want her to suspect. Only enough to cool some of the fire no doubt raging beneath that dragon brand.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, then stood and quietly walked away. The words should have tasted foul, but they didn’t. They felt right.

  —

  “Tarik! Help me!”

  Arms, hands, fingers ending in claws, held me back. Made me watch. The voices in my head, even after all these years, were crystal clear. But the sounds. The sounds were the worst. Tearing clothes, shredding flesh, breaking bones. And then the screams.

  Desperate. Afraid. Helpless.

  I couldn’t get to her. I couldn’t save her.

  “Leilani!”

  Her tortured gaze met mine, her mouth opening in a silent plea.

  Agonizing guilt crashed over me and I cried out. Cried out as they—

  The pounding echo jolted me awake. Dispelled the familiar nightmare. I inhaled sharply and blinked at my apartment’s yellow, water-stained ceiling. After a few more deep breaths, my racing heart slowed. No matter how many times the dream gripped me, shaking the images loose never got easier. The knocking continued and I grunted, stumbling out of bed.

  On my way to the door, I pulled on pants, not bothering with a shirt. I knew who was on the other side at this ungodly hour. Flicking the lock, I swung the door open and a shape hurtled inside, making a beeline for my bed.

  “Morning, Benji,” I drawled as he scooped Callie, my gray and white cat, into his arms.

  “Hi, Tarik,” he mumbled, clearly distracted. “Can Callie stay at my place today?”

  “Sure, kid. But don’t feed her so much catnip this time. She was yowling and jumping off my head all night.” I ducked down, peering into the ancient mini fridge. Empty shelves stared back. I groaned, thunking the door closed. Shopping wasn’t high on my priority list these days, but something besides tomatoes for breakfast would be a nice change.

  “I’ll be on the roof. Don’t skip school today.” At his grumble, I laced some authority into my words. “I’m serious, Benji.”

  He dragged Callie off the bed and scampered across the room, slamming the apartment door shut with a little too much force. I grimaced as the tenant above me shouted. With a click, I unlocked my window and slid the glass up, folding my body in half as I climbed onto my balcony. The small cement slab had been turned into a garden as all Fae itched to do with any available space given them.

  Every surface was covered in green, the majority of the plants edible. I plucked a bright red tomato from the vine before swinging onto the rusty escape ladder that led to the building’s flat roof. Once on top, I planted a foot on the roof’s edge and bit into my breakfast, taking in the panoramic view. This early, the sky was still a dusky blue, only a slight yellowing at the horizon. The Fae district was old and rundown, unwanted by the shifters. Everything—from the buildings’ dirty exteriors to a few rickety bikes in the pothole-riddled streets—spoke of poverty.

  But, if anything, Fae were resourceful. Rain barrels dotted the flat rooftops as well as fruit-bearing trees in large pots. I could even see corn stalks swaying in the breeze on an adjacent high-rise apartment. My kind was downtrodden, but we managed. We always found a way to survive.

  Even those of us who didn’t want to.

  And that’s why I stayed away from them. I was the bad apple. The disease. Anyone who got close to me would sooner or later regret doing so. Those I’d once called friends had finally let me be. It helped that I spent most of my evenings at The Pit where no other Fae dared to go. I had tried, again and again, to discourage Benji from invading my personal space, but he was like a flea on a dog. Persistent. No matter how many times I plucked him off, he jumped back on.

  But, besides him, I was alone. Well, I had Callie, but she wasn’t really mine. Technically, she was—I stopped myself from thinking her name. Sucking in a breath, I pushed memories of wavy blonde hair and infectious laughter from my mind. They were always there. Always hovering. And that’s why I came up to the roof every morning at dawn.

  I settled cross-legged on the smooth, still-cool concrete, hands loosely resting on my knees. Closing my eyes, I sought the one thing that had eluded me for three solid years.

  Inner peace.

  —

  “Go back to your territory, Fae scum!”

  A rock sailed toward me and I didn’t have time to duck. The pain was sharp and instant, a pulsing throb between my shoulder blades. I gritted my teeth but kept moving forward. Where was the Day Enforcer from yesterday? Lazy, good-for-nothing—

  A dark blue dragon dropped from the sky and, with a boom, landed right in front of me. I stopped, searching the light blue eyes for signs of intelligent life. Was the Day Enforcer hungry? Maybe he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and was hankering after a piece of Fae meat.

  His scales retracted—the tail and wings shrank, and the snout smooshed inward—until all that remained was a nude god. At least, that’s what I assumed he thought of himself as he struck a pose. Didn’t he feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable dangling in the wind like that?

  “Are we done here?” he said, ignoring me entirely as he peered past my shoulder. The harassing shifters skittered off. That simple, huh? He finally looked at me. “You’re welcome.”

  I stared at what I knew to be Mordecai’s son, even if I’d never spoken to him before. He kept puffing out his chest, trying to look down his nose at me. I was
taller than him. “Oh. Yeah,” I drew out the word. “Thanks for the show. The sight of naked male shifter first thing in the morning gets me all hot and bothered.”

  “Doubtful,” he said, sliding into a prowling circle reminiscent of his father’s. “But I have heard some rumors. About a certain Night Enforcer getting you all hot and bothered.”

  At the insinuation, heat flushed up my neck. But admitting that I knew Reagan, even as an acquaintance, would set this guy off. Something unsettling glinted in his gaze. Creepy. “The Night Enforcer?” I pretended to think, scratching at the side of my head. “Never heard of him. I don’t get out much past dinnertime. You know, being an early-riser and all.”

  “Yeah. You’re full of crap.” He scowled, rage now glittering in his eyes. “You see, I had a nice chat with my father yesterday. Because after running Fae up and down the border all day, I came home to find my Reagan slumped on the mansion floor. Unconscious. I carried her home, and then I found out about the interesting details of your interview, ScarFae.”

  I blinked. Crap. He had me there. But something he said snagged my attention. Not the fact that he knew about my Pit nickname or the botched interview, but that he had been there for Reagan. Had carried her away from the problems I had inflicted. That knowledge doused my simmering anger. And the preening peacock seemed to think Reagan was his. But what if . . .

  “How do I know you didn’t burn that mark into her neck? You’re Mordecai’s muscle. I mean, makes sense that he would ask you to do his dirty work.”

  The Day Enforcer’s nostrils flared and he lowered his voice to a soft snarl. “I would never hurt Reagan. And I never said she was branded. How did you know that? Are you stalking her?”

  Without warning, he swung. I wasn’t expecting the brute to actually put his enforcer skills to use, so I couldn’t avoid his fist in time. He slugged me right across the jaw. My teeth sank into my tongue, and with a groan, I spat blood on the ground. As he slipped into a fighting stance, I slowly settled onto the balls of my feet, knees slightly bent.

  “Look, man, your job is to get me inside the mansion in one piece. Are you sure you want to do this right now? Besides, if you cared about Reagan so much, wouldn’t you have saved her before she got hurt?”

  “Reagan knows her place. She’s known since she was a child. Sometimes she needs a reminder that Fae scum like you are trouble. She got what she deserved. We don’t help the Fae.” The Enforcer paused, then added, “I wouldn’t have saved her anyway, whether I like what our father did or not. He deals fair punishment and she knows that.”

  I straightened, completely mind-blown by the drivel leaving his dumb mouth. For a moment, I thought he might truly care for her, but this . . . this was sick. Fair punishment? A brand to the neck was fair punishment? Mordecai didn’t even do that to the Fae, but he would brand his own daughter?

  My stomach churned as I fought the urge to vomit all over this sorry excuse for a man. No, he needed worse than that. Far worse. I curled my hands into tight fists, ready to unleash every ounce of rage roaring through my blood. But, as I took that first step, right before I could end my life—because this Enforcer would no doubt have me killed after I struck him—a flash of light purple barreled toward me.

  “Nooope, nope, not today,” a female voice said loudly, halting my progress with a quick shove. Her next words were hushed, meant only for my ears. “Reagan saved your life at great personal risk. Don’t you dare squander that on this piece of crap.”

  I made to go around her, too angry to think straight, but she persisted. Like a flea. Like a—Benji. I froze. What was I doing? This tiny, purple-haired woman was right. I couldn’t throw my life away, not when Benji still needed me. I blew out a breath, glancing down at her heart-shaped face. Big brown eyes ringed in silver blinked up at me, almost pleading with me to walk away.

  “You’re right.” I rolled my shoulders, tamping down the rage that still demanded I punch this guy’s lights out. “He’s a pile of crap. Thanks for setting the record straight.”

  “He is, and you’re going to be late for work. Please. Please, go. Reagan is in enough trouble, and if you’re late . . .” She huffed. “I’ll deal with the puffed-up dragon boy. Go. I’m Nevaeh, by the way.”

  If there was one word I understood abundantly clear, it was trouble. And I didn’t want to be the cause of more right now. Reagan had been through enough. “Tarik,” I muttered without thought, peeking through my lashes at the irate Day Enforcer.

  “I know,” she said, shoving me some more. I looked at her, confused. How come this shifter knew so much about me? I had never seen her before. A bright pink tattoo on her left forearm caught my eye and I focused on the shape. When I realized what I was looking at, a bubble of laughter almost erupted from me. A chubby pig. With a rainbow unicorn horn on its forehead. I clamped my lips together and met her stare. As if reading my thoughts, she winked, and simply said, “I’m the best friend.”

  Despite her short stature and thin frame, she was quite strong. Nevaeh pushed me forward a step, and my legs did the rest. As she maneuvered me around the pompous dragon shifter, I couldn’t resist glowering at him. He glared back with equal intensity. Great. I’d made a new friend.

  Walking the rest of the way to the mansion without an escort proved hazardous to my health. Three more rocks struck me, and my shirt now sported a sticky green stain. What the substance was, I didn’t care to know. When I arrived at the mansion—barely on time—a thin shifter with poofy, reddish-brown hair led me down the stairs to the mines.

  I decided to nickname him Bushy.

  Jocelyn—I couldn’t even imagine what kind of shifter she was . . . poodle, maybe—gave us the grand tour when the last Fae employee was accounted for. “And these are the required uniforms you will all be wearing. Go ahead, put them on. One size fits all.”

  I couldn’t quite contain a small eyeroll. Uniforms? They were hazmat suits. Big and yellow and—

  As I slid one on, I groaned. Hot. Stifling hot. If I didn’t need the money so badly, I’d be charging up the stairs right about now. This job was going to be hell. I heard a few grunts and curses and glanced at my new coworkers. We all seemed to share a similar train of thought.

  And that’s when I noticed something a touch peculiar: Jocelyn was the only female in the room. Mordecai had only hired male Fae. The realization tasted bitter. Perhaps Reagan was on to something. Maybe there was more to this job than mining.

  “All right, men.” Jocelyn clapped like a spectator at a carnival. “This way, please.”

  As we shuffled after our mother hen, waddling like oversized chicks, she pointed out various nooks. “Here’s where you’ll find the mining tools. One pickaxe and shovel will be assigned to each worker. Treat your equipment kindly, because if you break anything, you’ll be docked pay.”

  The bathrooms were next, then a long unlit room she dubbed ‘In case of emergency.’ What, like a cave-in? But she whisked us onward, the clack of her red heels echoing down the corridor.

  “And here is where you’ll be working,” she said, stopping just shy of the entrance. Before continuing, she looked each of us in the eye, as if that would drive home her next words. “There is one rule that mustn’t be broken if you wish to keep your job: never directly touch the Genesis Crystal. Understood?” At our nods, she stepped aside and allowed us to spill into a tall cavern, so large that walking to the other side would take a solid minute.

  But the sheer size wasn’t what had my mouth dropping in wonder. The cave was covered in green. Not pale green or even leaf green, but a rich emerald, deep and pure and—I swallowed with difficulty, my throat suddenly bone dry. The crystal was beautiful. Startled by a tugging sensation, I swiveled, half-expecting to find Jocelyn pulling at my suit. But no one was touching me.

  Still, the tug persisted, calling, beckoning . . . draining. My eyelids drooped but I forced them open again. Maybe that punch to my jaw had caused a slight concussion. Before I could think more on the matter, Jo
celyn clapped again, ushering us from the cavern and into a bright, impossibly clean-looking white room. I couldn’t find a speck of dirt anywhere.

  “This is our final destination for today, men. Claim an empty table and sit. Someone will be with you shortly.” With that, she turned on her heel and left the big yellow blobs to gape at each other.

  Sit? In these sweltering hot suits?

  For the next several hours, I was poked and jabbed, stripped and humiliated by shifter doctors. I thought about fleeing the room many times. But, despite the ever-present rage simmering in my blood, I remained. I needed this job. Badly. Still, I questioned my sanity.

  What had I gotten myself into?

  “. . . and then he had the nerve to tell me to butt out. Like, he wasn’t doing his job in the first place. I had to. And he thought he could tell me what to do?”

  Nevaeh had been chattering for almost an hour. Normally, listening to her gossip was soothing. She needed an ear and I was more than willing to offer one. This time was different. This time she was talking about Alec and Tarik, and the confrontation they’d had this morning. My mind kept circling back to her detailed description of Alec’s fist hitting Tarik’s jaw, and the image squeezed my chest. I coughed to clear my throat and Nevaeh paused, but I motioned her on.

  What was he thinking, antagonizing Alec? What was Alec thinking, targeting one of the Fae who now worked for our father?

  I tugged at the fraying hemline of my leggings, an older pair worn soft. Nevaeh had come over before I had woken, and I still hadn’t showered. Part of me didn’t really care if I did—the other part cringed at the wad of unwashed hair perched into a messy bun on top of my head. Showering felt like effort. I didn’t have the energy for effort. My mind had been spinning since the interview, and even sleep hadn’t given me rest. The Fae, Mordecai, Alec, Tarik . . . the storm in my mind was becoming a flood.