Chasing Daybreak (Dark of Night Book 1) (16 page)

I hadn’t been prepared for a great many things that night. I hadn’t been prepared for the limo that picked us up. I hadn’t been prepared for the way Shane looked in his tux pants, white shirt, and shiny black vest—so much like I imagined he would have looked on our wedding day that it actually took my breath away when I saw him. I hadn’t been prepared for the swarm of flashing cameras and paparazzi as we pulled up to the turn-of-the-century mansion that served as Conclave headquarters, or for the heaviness in the pit of my stomach. Even through all the glitz, I felt like I was being thrown in a pool full of sharks.

But mostly, I hadn’t been prepared for the deep, driving loneliness growing inside me as the clock continued to tick, each tiny sound bringing me closer to losing Shane—to losing a part of myself.

The golden gown Mercy sent fit me perfectly, clinging in all the right places, flaring in others. The fabric was a delicate combination of satin and lace. Not exactly the sort of gown you got off the rack at a local department store. If I hadn’t been so nervous, I might have felt like a princess. As it was, I just wanted not to vomit.

Initiation was a big deal in the new celebrity that was the sexy, vampire lifestyle. Thanks to a few million lame books about sparkly, sensitive vampires, they—while abhorred on one hand—were super glamorous on the other. And Shane was the story of the day.

We were ushered in quickly by a group of very tall, very wide doormen who shielded us, as much as possible, from the frenzy. Still, I had no doubt that my stupefied face stepping out of the limo holding Shane’s hand would be fodder for the next day’s Society page.

Inside, soft orchestral music played. I mistook it for a recording before I spotted the actual orchestra playing in the library. I guessed vampires spared no expense.

The knot in my stomach grew to basketball size as we were led upstairs to a small bedroom decorated much like an upscale hotel—generic and impeccably clean, in a pattern of black and white. The only actual color was in the green stem of a potted orchid on the nightstand. Then our guard-escort instructed us to wait there before he turned and left.

I looked at Shane and raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged in response to my unasked question. “I’m sure they just want to walk us through the ceremony.”

I smoothed my dress and sat on the edge of the bed.

“That would be nice. I’d hate to mess up the secret handshake,” I said, my tone dry.

The fact was, even though I’d agreed to this, I hated it. Down to the tips of my toes, I hated that Shane would be leaving. It was selfish, childish really, but there it was. I really wanted to be all mature and understanding, but I wasn’t. The possibility that someday I might be was the only thing keeping me from resorting to crying and begging him to come home with me right then. But I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t ask him to come, not if I wasn’t going to keep him.

And I knew I wasn’t.

In silence, he sat on the edge of the bed across from me. I looked at him, hoping to see a trace of hesitation or fear, but it was the cool, calm face of the undead. It looked so wrong on him, and yet at the same time, kind of right, too.

“You look beautiful,” he said finally.

I felt the blush creep into my cheeks, but before I could say anything, the door opened and Xavier, Mercy, and Xavier’s second in command, a busty redhead named Ahnarra, glided in. Mercy rushed to Shane, who stood and caught her in a tight embrace.

I turned my attention to Xavier. “So, what’s the drill?”

He leaned casually against the dresser. “The ceremony is called
Valde Vitualamen
, or in English, the Great Sacrifice. It’s symbolic of vampires cutting their ties with the human world and embracing their destiny as immortals.”

“In the old days,” Mercy said with a giggle, “vampires would actually kill all their human family in the ceremony.”

I swallowed, but I refused to let her rile me. “I assume that isn’t how it’s done anymore?”

Ahnarra shot Mercy a look that was clearly a ‘shut up’ before saying, “No, that isn’t done anymore. It hasn’t been done for centuries.”

“You have nothing to fear, Isabel,” Xavier added. “I swear, no harm will come to you this evening.”

I nodded. Vamps were lots of things, but once they gave their word, it was law, especially coming from someone in Xavier’s sphere of authority. They could lie, but they thought themselves much too civilized for it. Lying was degrading, in their opinions, or so Shane had told me. Ironic that murder was perfectly all right, but lying was frowned upon.

Stupid vampires and their stupid rules.

Ahnarra stepped forward and motioned for Shane and me to stand in front of her. Once we were in position, she withdrew a thick, red ribbon from the back of her tight, red dress.

“Raise your arms, please,” she said gently.

We did. She proceeded to wind the ribbon around his right arm and my left, essentially tying us together.

She stepped back and Xavier stepped forward, handing Shane a large, golden dagger, which Shane tucked into his belt.

“I will call the ceremony to order, say a few words, and then our new initiates will be brought forward, one pair at a time,” Xavier informed us. “We have three joining us tonight. You and Shane will go last in the procession.”

Ahnarra continued the narrative, “Then Shane will be joined to us via Mercy, who is standing in for his sire. He will be bound to her, and by doing so, to the Conclave.”

Mercy leaned on Shane, smiling as she added, “Then, we have our reception.”

“And I can leave?” No way was I sticking around any longer than I had to.

“Of course,” Ahnarra said quickly. “We will have a car standing by to take you home.”

Xavier stepped forward, forcing Mercy back. Taking Shane by both shoulders, he leaned in. It looked like a hug, but I could sense he was whispering something to Shane, but I had no idea what. Then he repeated the action with me.

“Please, before you go home tonight, I would like to speak with you,” he whispered and drew back.

I nodded quickly, and the three of them turned to leave.

“I’ll send someone when we’re ready for you. Until then, please wait here,” Ahnarra said solemnly, closing the door behind her.

I looked down at my arm where I was latched to Shane with blood-red silk. “So, what do we do now?”

He looked at me and smiled. “Wanna thumb wrestle?”

The ballroom was filled with people in elaborate Victorian costumes. I felt like I’d just interrupted the masquerade scene in a
Phantom of the Opera
production. A red carpet was rolled out, leading from the rear entry doors to a small stage where Xavier sat in a chair that looked way too much like a throne for my taste.

Xavier was flanked by Ahnarra on his left, and a man I couldn’t place on his right.  Ahnarra, of course, wore her stunning red dress. The man looked older than Xavier, which I knew was deceiving. Mid-fortyish when he died, he had closely shorn salt-and- pepper hair. A mustache of the same color framed his narrow lips and ended in a goatee.

The first initiate, a slender but stunning blond woman, had already gone through the ceremony when we entered the room. As I watched, the orchestra played a soft tune and the couple in front of us proceeded forward at a wedding march pace.

I shivered and dropped my gaze to the floor. Counting to ten slowly to calm my breathing, I fought back full-fledged panic. Memories of standing alone at the altar on my wedding day came flooding back, as did all the daydreams I’d had of the moment when Shane would walk me back down the aisle as his wife. I wanted to cry, scream, or do something. But I didn’t. I just swallowed my emotions down. I’d cry later, I promised myself, but not here, not in front of these people.

The music stopped abruptly. Looking up again, I watched as the male vampire in front of us drew a shiny dagger like the one Xavier had given Shane and with one swift motion, he sliced through the red ribbon. The scraps fluttered to the floor like leaves on the breeze. The human beside him stepped back and a vampire stepped in, taking his place. Xavier stood from his throne and withdrew a black ribbon from his vest pocket.

“This is the tie that binds, one to another. It is our brotherhood, our unity. With this, we are one.” Xavier’s voice rang out over the silent crowd. He leaned over and tied the two vampire’s arms together. When he was done, he stood and announced to the crowd, “Welcome our new brother, Doctor Peter Chandler.”

The applause roared like thunder through the room, shattering the stillness as the new vampire moved into the crowd to be welcomed him with handshakes and hugs. The human was led to a room off to the side.

Shane gently squeezed my hand but kept his eyes forward as the music began again.

Feeling like I might hyperventilate, I picked a spot on the wall behind Xavier and focused on it as hard as I could, trying to drown out everything else. A soft gasp beside me brought me back to reality. We’d stopped in front of the stage, but something was wrong. Shane’s nostrils were flared, his body rigid with tension.

“What is it?” I whispered, though I was sure the whole room could hear. He gave me a barely noticeable shake of his head and drew the dagger.

Something was wrong. I could feel it as sure as I could feel the blood pounding in my ears, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. My nerves were too frazzled. I was hot all over, breathing too hard and too fast.

Giving my hand one final squeeze, Shane tensed. I closed my eyes, part of me hoping he’d stop, drop the knife, and walk out of the ballroom with me.

But he didn’t.

I didn’t feel the knife cut the ribbon. After a second, I opened my eyes, expecting to see the red trimming still connecting us, but it was gone. My heart fell. Xavier was watching me, his emotions unreadable on his stoic face. They were waiting for me to move. I glanced at Shane, who was staring ahead, ignoring me as if I wasn’t even there. I took a shaky step back.

Mercy swooped into my spot, flashing a bright smile over her shoulder at me before turning to face Xavier, who stood and spoke.

I didn’t hear the words this time. Turning away, I walked slowly back down the red carpet, this time alone, and out into the hallway. I must have stumbled because one of the guards grabbed me by the waist and lifted me into his arms. Behind me, I heard applause erupt in the ballroom, and the tears started flowing from my eyes. I only knew that the guard was taking me away because the noise in the ballroom grew more and more distant.

I wasn’t as scared as I knew I should be at being carried off by a strange vampire. All I knew was he was taking me away from that sound, and that was all I wanted.

The guard left me in some kind of office, which I assumed belonged to Xavier, with a bottle of water and a golden chenille blanket draped over my shoulders. As soon as I was alone, I could think again. I’d never had a panic attack before, but I could imagine that was what they felt like. I hated feeling out of control; it made me feel so weak. Using a bit of my water and the corner of the blanket, I carefully wiped the dark mascara stains from my face, praying that no one had witnessed my little meltdown. Especially Shane and Xavier. I hated the idea that Shane might feel sorry for me. I also hated the idea that Xavier might see me as a simpering, needy human.

My dad was a cop. The rule in the house when I was growing up was always,
Don’t cry unless you’re bleeding
. Sometimes not even then. The fact that I’d let my emotions get the better of me was equal parts disturbing and embarrassing.

No one would blame me, not after the week I’d had.
Fires, dead bodies, long-lost sisters, werewolves, and of course, all the vampire nonsense, were all contributing factors
, I told myself. It wasn’t just Shane leaving that had shaken me. It was everything, my whole life. I’d held it all at bay for so long that at the first emotional crack in the wall, it had all come flooding out.

Swimming back to my full faculties, I took a long drink of water, tossed the blanket off, and rose to wander around the room. I admired the photographs on the walls. Some were in color but most were black and white or sepia.

The one that caught my eye above all the others was one of Xavier with, if I wasn’t mistaken, Amelia Earhart. They were both dressed in 1940’s aviator chic, complete with leather pilot’s jackets and goggles, but what really struck me was the smile on his face. It was a real smile, the kind that lights up your eyes, the kind of smile that makes other people smile, too. The expression illuminated his already-handsome face.

I’d seen Xavier pretending to be human, but in the picture, all traces of his vampire nature were gone. I mean, if I didn’t know he was much older than that, I might have thought from looking at the picture that he
was
human. It wasn’t the uncomfortable fake-human act he’d put on for me. It was sincere. Honest. I wondered if he could still do that, let his guard down and just smile. I assumed it was something vamps lost with age, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe they had to be hard and cold because of the world they lived in, not because they lost the ability to do, to
be
anything else. Reaching out, I traced his image with my fingertip.

“That was the year I learned how to fly.”

I jumped at Xavier interrupting my thoughts. “Oh, God,” I yelped. “You can’t sneak up on me like that!”

I turned to see him leaning against the doorjamb, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest. His costume—
Did you still call it a costume if it’d been part of your wardrobe once?
—reminded me of a cross between a pirate and David Bowie in
Labyrinth
, all ruffles and golden embroidery. He looked hot with a capital H, but then, what else was new?

“So, you knew Amelia Earhart?” I asked pointing to the picture.

“I did. She was an amazing woman and a good friend.”

“Do you know what really happened to her?” I asked jokingly.

His body tensed for a second, then relaxed again, but his tone was cold when he said, “She crashed and died.”

Apparently, not a joking matter to him. In an effort to get my foot out of my mouth, I said, “I’m sorry you lost such a good friend.”

He shrugged. “Such is the definition of a mortal life.”

There wasn’t much to say to that, so I just nodded.

Xavier reached out a hand as if to touch the frame, but he paused short. “You humans are so very fragile and so very unique, like snowflakes.”

His voice was soft, uncurling in my head like a flower blossoming. Part of his vamp tricks, I figured. Still, it was soothing, and that made it hard to care.

“Who’s this?” I pointed to a more recent picture of Xavier standing beside a young man in a black graduation gown.

I wasn’t trying to be nosy. Part of me just wanted to keep the conversation going in a direction away from work and death. Avoidance could be such a blessing sometimes.

“That is Devon Shannon, my last human relative. He graduated from MIT last spring.”

“He’s very handsome.” I said, and I meant it. He looked a great deal like Xavier might have as a human.

“Yes, he takes after my sister, his great-great-great-great-grandmother. She would be proud.”

“You seem proud, too.”

Xavier nodded, looking away. “I am.”

“So, is he going to be chosen?”

Xavier’s eyes darkened. “No. No, he will live out his life as he’s meant to.”

I was two-for-two in the scraping a nerve department. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. It’s just that I figured you’d be glad to have him as part of the Conclave family.”

“Conclave is a family in many ways. But nothing can replace blood. You see, if Devon turns, my family line dies out.”

I smiled to lighten the mood. “So are all vampires this big on family, or is it just you?”

“It is my one great regret. That I never had the opportunity to have a family, children of my own. You’d be amazed how things that seem to matter so little in the blush of youth can come to haunt you as time passes.”

His voice was so sad, so haunted. I wanted to reach out, to comfort him in some small way, but I didn’t know how. Some things you couldn’t make better with pretty words and hugs. Some things you just had to accept and move on from.

“You wanted to talk to me?” I asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that was quickly developing.

“I do. Please.” He motioned to the chair across from the desk. Unlike his other office, this desk held only a stack of old books and a notepad with a pen tucked into the spiral coil binding it.

I sat, taking another sip of water, and waited for him to speak. He’d called this little meeting after all.

“I was born in Southern Louisiana in 1793. My father was a wealthy Spanish merchant, and my mother was his French mistress. After I was born, my father abandoned us. My mother took a job as a seamstress for another wealthy family and was quickly looked upon by the man of the house. My sister was born later that year. It was just the three of us for so long. We lived on scraps, whatever we could beg or steal. When I was fifteen, I took a job on a pirate ship captained by Jean Laffite. I always intended to go home after making my fortune on the high seas. But years passed and I grew selfish. I never forgot about them, I simply made excuse after excuse until…” He paused, his face distant as if lost in the memory. “One day, we were in port and I was a brazen youth of twenty-two by then. A beautiful woman glanced at me. She was obviously wealthy, her clothes were the finest, and her hair hung in rich, perfect, ebony curls. She invited me with her eyes the way only a woman can. I intended to bed her and rob her. What she had in mind for me was much worse. I became a vampire that night.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked softly.

As he spoke, I could see the careful façade he’d built around himself begin to crack. His voice shook slightly, and his eyes were haunted, as if the ghosts of his past were hovering in front of him.

“You are a smart woman, Isabel,” he began, resting his arms on the desk.

“Um, thanks?”

“And talented. And beautiful.” He smiled, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I understand that Shane was your espoused, but now things are…platonic?”

I nodded, completely thrown off by where the conversation was headed.

“Yet tonight, he has joined us. I know that causes you some distress.” He leaned forward. “So I must ask. Do you still love him?”

I let out the breath I’d been holding and laughed. “Yes, in some ways. I think I hate him a little, too,” I added in all honesty. “But he’s
important
to me.”

“Important how?”

“Important enough that if you guys hadn’t put Irena down after what she did, I would have. Important enough to kill for, to die for. He’s…” I struggled for a way to make him understand “… family.”

“Like a brother? Perhaps an uncle?” he asked, his voice dead serious.

It was enough to raise my hackles. “Okay, what’s the deal?” I asked flatly, folding my hands in my lap. “What does any of this matter? What’s done is done.”

“I ask because I wish to woo you.”

“Woo what?” I asked, confused.

He sighed. “Woo. I would like to—how is it said now? Hook up.” Xavier’s eyebrows raised almost playfully, his face softened and hopeful with a half-smile.

I stood up so quickly that the chair fell over behind me. “Hold it right there. If you think there is any chance in hell of you and me having sex, you’re crazy.”

He stood up as well and walked toward me, every movement slow and deliberate. Flipping the strands of ebony hair from his face, he revealed his piercing, sky-blue eyes. His skin was pale and smooth, his lips pale pink and thin. His face was thin but chiseled, high cheekbones and one tiny dimple that I knew would appear only when he smiled. But he wasn’t smiling now; he was looking at me with hungry desire from under his dark lashes.

“Why? Do you find me so repulsive?” He leaned in so our bodies were nearly touching. With one finger, he stroked my cheek, sending an army of shivers across my skin. He smelled like copper pennies and the night after a rainstorm. When he leaned forward slowly, gently pressing his lips against mine, I didn’t stop him.

It had been a very long time since a man had touched me like that, and as if on instinct, my body rose to meet him. The blood rushed to my face, flushing me so hard I could feel it like flames on the tips of my ears. He slipped one hand behind me, his fingers splayed across the small of my back. The other hand moved down the line of my body, resting on my thigh for only a moment before traveling again.

I gasped, part in surprise, part in raw, consuming need. As of their own accord, my hands wandered too, one clutching the back of his neck, the other slowly caressing its way down his chest to the hard bulge of his pants.

All at once, I came back to myself, as if crashing back to earth after soaring above it for far too long. It was more embarrassment than physical pain, but the throbbing between my legs was deep and achy.

I took a step back and put my hands up, as if that simple, stupid, human gesture could hold him at bay. “I’m sorry, but this can’t happen.”

His face fell, like he’d never been rejected before, making me feel instantly guilty. “I mean, you’re a good-looking guy, sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to
hook up
with you.”

“But you are emotionally compromised. Perhaps I could make you feel better.”

He reached out and grazed my cheek with his fingers, which I promptly slapped away. Okay, maybe not
promptly
. I did have time to notice the cool, soft texture of his skin. Then I slapped his hand away.

“First of all, I’m not emotionally compromised, you dick,” I said, fighting the urge to wipe my eyes to be sure I’d removed all traces of my earlier tears. “Second, that’s not how it works. You don’t just jump in the sack with someone because you think they’re cute.”

“Then how is it done?” he asked earnestly.

I shrugged. “You, you know,
woo
. You go to dinner and movies and get to know each other. It’s called dating.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That seems like a waste of time. I want you. I can see that you want me. I can hear your pulse speed up when you look at me—feel your body tense when I touch you. Why should we bother dating?”

“We don’t date. I don’t date vampires. Or sleep with them. Ever.”

“Because you think we are monsters?” His question was a husky whisper.

“No. I knew I could never have a life with Shane after he was turned. Not because he was a monster, but because we were suddenly on two different paths. I had—have—a
plan
for my life. I wanted to be a teacher, to get married, raise a family. I wanted a husband, a partner I could grow old with. I wanted to watch my grandchildren play in Battery Park.