Blood-Kissed Sky (Darkness Before Dawn) (16 page)

I see the depth of his feelings for me in his eyes.

“I can’t promise that, Dawn,” he says quietly.

“Please, Michael, if you care for me at all, you’ll put her first.”

He sighs heavily. “I never could tell you no. Now why are we here?”

His response isn’t really an answer, but I have to hope if it comes down to it, he’ll do what I want. “You’ve seen the Thirst, interacted with it firsthand.”

He absently rubs a small scar on his cheek, a scar he has courtesy of his encounter with Brady. “Yeah.”

“Well, Clive and I are worried about it. He’s sending me out west to investigate it. I know that it’s rampant out there. But if the people of Los Angeles have found a way to protect themselves, then we need to learn it. Before it’s too late.”

He nods, taking it in. “Sin came from Los Angeles.”

“Maybe. He could have been lying. But it’s not inconceivable that we’d find something there to lead us to him.”

“How does your vampire feel about all this?”

“Victor doesn’t know.”

“Makes me feel better knowing you keep secrets from him, too.”

I wish I hadn’t been forced to. I always thought we’d fight for the same thing, be on the same side. Now I’m not so sure anymore.

“O
kay, so the word is that tonight there is going to be a party in the lounge car,” Tegan says when she returns, obviously pleased that her little outing discovered some information that she considers vital.

Michael and I put down our books—we’ve been passing the time reading since books are such a luxury nowadays.

Tegan plops down in a chair beside me. “So we’re going, right?”

I grimace. “Actually, I’m having dinner with Ian.” He stopped by a few minutes before Tegan’s arrival to inform me of this fact.

“So tell him you have plans.”

“It wasn’t exactly an invitation.”

She groans. “Well, Michael and I are going, right, Michael?”

He looks at me, then Tegan. “We’ll go when Dawn gets back.”

“Okay, fine. And Christopher’s not such a bad guy after all. He convinced me to forgive him for almost staking me.” She tucks her feet beneath her. “Quite honestly, I think Michael’s confidence intimidated him a little. Besides, he’s kind of cute.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” I stand up. “If we’re going to a party after dinner, I’m going to take a little nap. I didn’t sleep any last night.” Besides, I wasn’t in the mood to be haunted by the dream that won’t leave me alone.

“Yeah, neither did I,” Tegan says. “Think I’ll join you.”

Michael sets his book aside. “I’ll keep watch in the hallway.”

“Okay,” I say. “Come back before I go to dinner so you can keep Tegan company.”

He understands my real message:
Watch over her, just like you would me.

“I will. Sweet dreams.”

He walks out. The door is too thick to hear what he might be saying to Christopher. I’m suddenly so tired that I just crawl into bed in my clothes. After dousing all the lamps, Tegan joins me. Because there are no windows, the place is pitch black. It’s a little intimidating at first, with no soft light streaming through to outline the shape of the room. But it doesn’t take long before I feel at home, enveloped in the darkness. Soon, it just feels like another blanket of protection.

The last words Brady spoke to me when he was hiding me in a closet before he was turned into a vampire were, “Don’t be afraid of the dark.” It looks like it finally happened. I’m not afraid anymore.

“I’m glad Michael’s here,” Tegan says into the empty space around us.

“Yeah, me too.”

“He still”—she yawns—“loves you, you know.”

I swallow hard. “Things will never be the same between us.”

“But you can be … friends,” she murmurs, then I hear her light snore.

I smile. We’ve had enough sleepovers that I know she often goes to sleep while talking. “Yeah, we can be friends,” I whisper.

I roll over and close my eyes, hoping that the mountain will leave me in peace.

I’m walking through Valentine Manor. My feet are bare. The stone is cold against my soles and my toes curl. The residence has an abundance of windows but thick curtains have been drawn in front of each one to ward off the sun. A few oil lamps have been left burning.

Vampires detest technology, although I suspect in time that Victor will have electricity installed out here.

Outside the building there will be guards, humans paid exorbitant amounts to watch over vampires during the day. So I know Victor is safe. That I’m safe.

I lift a lamp from the table in the massive foyer. I used to hate coming here to meet with Lord Valentine, but it seems different without him. Not so intimidating. I wonder if Roland Hursch will be impressed.

I wander over to the grand sweeping staircase that leads to the second floor, to the bedchambers, to the place where Victor is sleeping. I’ve been there before. He was wounded during the battle with his father. I slept in his arms while he healed.

I touch the banister, surprised by how smooth the wood feels beneath my fingers. Surprised by how solid everything seems, even though it’s a dream. I know I’m on the train, heading for Los Angeles, sleeping.

But like the mountain dream, this one seems so real. I start up the stairs slowly, but then realize that I might be awakened
at any moment for my dinner with Ian. I don’t know how time moves in this world. It already feels as though I’ve been here forever.

I hurry up the stairs, my feet slapping against the marble. At the top, I almost fly down the hall to Victor’s room. I open the door and see him lying in bed. On his back. Shirtless. The blankets are drawn up to his waist. He appears so peaceful. So young.

I tiptoe across the room, even knowing that I won’t disturb him. Vampires sleep the sleep of the dead.

I set the lamp on the table beside his bed. Lifting the covers, I slip beneath them until I’m nestled against him. He feels so warm, so solid, so real. I can smell his tart, rich scent. I can hear his slow, even breathing. Still asleep, he lifts his arm, brings it around me, and draws me in even nearer. I close my eyes. I could stay here forever. I could—

“Dawn?”

I open my eyes to find Victor hovering over me, concern in his eyes. Still, I can’t help but smile.

“What are you doing here, Dawn?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“But you’re on the train.”

“How do you know?”

“I had someone keeping an eye on you.”

“How many spies do you have in the city?”

“Enough.” He combs his fingers through my hair. “So I don’t understand how you’re here.”

I laugh. “It’s just a dream.”

His brow furrows. “No, it’s more than that. It’s not just a dream.”

“Of course it is,” I say, but then he touches my shoulder lightly, and it feels electrifying. I shudder, beginning to believe him.

“See,” he says. “Everything is so …”

“
Clear,” I finish for him.

He simply nods. “Are all dreams like this?” he asks.

“Do I know something the mighty Lord Victor Valentine doesn’t?” I ask, unable to help my smile.

“I’m serious, Dawn. I’ve only begun dreaming since I met you, but … but it was never like this. It always felt like you were my own private thought, a secret only for me. This feels …”

“Real,” I finish for him again, then answer his earlier question. “It’s never like this.”

I place my hand beneath his head and pull him down for a kiss. His flavor is so rich, his tongue questing, his—

“Wake up! Dawn, for God’s sake, wake up!”

My teeth are clicking together, I’m being shaken so hard. Tegan is standing beside the bed, both her hands on my shoulders, jerking me up and down like a rag doll.

“Tegan!” I roll away from her and sit up. “Remind me not to use you as an alarm clock ever again.”

“You wouldn’t wake up.”

I realize then that Michael and Christopher are both standing at the foot of the bed, worried expressions on their faces—well, on Michael’s, at least.

“I was just in a deep sleep, that’s all.”

“I tried calling, then nudging—I thought maybe you’d slipped into a coma again.”

“No. I was dreaming—” I feel my face turning hot, especially because Michael is here. “It was nothing.”

“See, it was nothing,” Christopher says. “You guys get worried about everything, even someone sleeping.”

Michael just studies me like I’m a new specimen of some undiscovered species. I don’t like it. His look is too distant, too foreign.

“Well, I’m okay now.” I scoot across the bed and clamber out. “You guys need to leave so I can get ready for my dinner with Ian.”

“I hope you brought something fancy to wear,” Christopher says. “He likes to eat in the main dining car.”

“Thanks for the tip. Now leave.”

The guys walk out and I grab my duffel bag. Anticipating a meeting with the Agency director in Los Angeles, I’d packed one nice black dress and heels. I pull them out.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tegan asks.

“I’m fine.” I try not to think about how real the dream was. Or that my lips are tingling as though they’ve just been kissed.

After I change my clothes and pin up my hair, I head out. Christopher escorts me to the main dining car. All along the way, it’s impossible for me to tell whether it’s night outside. I have to rely on my watch and internal clock to tell me the moon is rising.

I quickly spot Ian at a far table. He isn’t as polished as the other diners, but he doesn’t need to be. Everyone knows who he is; everyone knows his job is to protect the train, not look good. Then again, he looks good anyway. Not in a well-dressed, well-mannered way; but what he lacks in clothes he more than makes up for in confidence. And not the kind that boys fake just to impress; it’s the kind that gets things done.

“I’m glad you could join me,” Ian says as I take the seat opposite him.

“I didn’t realize it was an option not to.”

He gives a small concession—a slight turning up of his lips. “I’m not Valentine. We’re not adversaries.”

“Sorry. I sort of automatically go into delegate mode when I’m not sure what to expect of a situation.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re very good at what you do.”

“I could say the same about you.”

That makes his smile grow.

A waiter comes by and we both order steaks. I know all my expenses will be handled by the Agency and I figure I may as well enjoy what perks I can.

“How far are we from the city?” I ask, trying to take this conversation into friendlier, nonpersonal territory.

“Far enough to put me on edge. Vampires like to attack in this area, knowing that we’re a full day and night’s ride from the next major city.”

“But how likely is that? I mean, a vampire can’t exactly walk through this steel wall.”

“They can find a way. Even a rolling fortress like this has its weak points. I’ve known vampires to crawl along the undercarriage, inches away from the tracks below, searching for a single piece of wood not covered by steel.” He stamps his foot, drawing my attention to the hardwood floor. I suppose with enough time and determination, and raw strength, a vampire could get through it if he found the right spot.

“Once, a vampire climbed through the smoke stacks and emerged blackened and near death, only to kill an engineer before making his way toward the passenger cars.”

“God!”

“Don’t worry. He never reached his target. In fact, since I’ve guarded the Night Train, we’ve only lost four passengers: two heart attacks, one accident, and one suicide.”

“How many vamps have you staked onboard?”

Ian smiles. It’s different from Victor’s. It carries more secrets, something I didn’t think was possible. It also reveals Ian’s macabre sense of humor, like the only way to deal with everything is to find laughter in the blackness of the world. “More than I tell people.”

That confidence again. I can’t help but smile back.

The steaks arrive and are
amazing
. They are much thicker and moister than the steaks I shared with my family when we were celebrating my father being named the delegate. I close my eyes with every bite, just savoring the juices and flavors.

While we eat, I can’t help but study the hunter across from me. His hands are lined with scars and misshapen joints. At a distance, he’s gorgeous; but up close, everything is off, everything is ugly. Each scar is a little triumph over the reaper once again. Of course, the wounds on his skin are obvious, superficial. I imagine the worst scars are those that wounded his soul. How many friends has he buried? How many have died in his arms?

“You aren’t impressed?” he asks.