Night of the Fallen (Dark Tides, Book Two)

Night of the Fallen

Dark Tides series, Book Two

Diana Bocco

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are all a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

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© 2014 Diana Bocco

All rights reserved.

No part of this book
may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

Blood
. Blood everywhere.

It blanketed the ground and extended as far as the eyes could see
. Above, the stars were starting to fade away as the first glimpses of daylight hinted at coming closer.

He had to move before the sun came out, making him weaker than he already was.

Hands pushing against the ground, he struggled to sit up and the pang of pain cut through his veins. How much blood had he lost? He needed to feed. And soon. Without human blood, his wounds would take much longer to heal and the pain would only become tighter, sharper.

His eyes zeroed into the distance, scanning for other vampires. The howling of the wind scattered the stench all around him.
Vampires. Rabids.

Belle
.

He had no way of knowing if the compound was still standing, but something told him it wasn’t
—and all he could think about was whether she was safe. Whether he had just made the worst decision of his life by leaving her behind to chase a senseless battle.

He stood up and gave his weakened body a chance to steady. The gash in his chest
—deep enough to almost reach his heart—was already healing, clotting over the wound. But the healing would mean little without restoring the lost blood.

He took
one step towards the closest building. The bodies of hundreds of rabids littered the landscape, making each step an extra struggle as he maneuvered his way over and around the remains.

If he
didn’t know any better, he would think a plague had swept over the land, killing rabids so quickly they hadn’t even had time to react.

But
the truth was a lot more brutal than that. The truth was that his army had fought the rabids for hours because there had been so many of them. So many more than they had expected.

His army had walked into the town of Franklin expecting a fight, but the clash had been so much bigger than they were prepared for.

The void was not only alive, it was alive with a fury. It was strong and bitter and merciless. At first, the rabids had just watched them move through the deserted town streets, their eyes filled with madness as they followed the king and his guards scurrying through the dark. With no human smell among them, the rabids had no reason to attack, no understanding of the vampires walking among them. For several minutes, they all played a dance of hide-and-seek with the shadows, turning around unexpected corners and slipping in and out of hazy buildings and from under stairways.

But
once he’d killed the first rabid, once his guards had started the fire meant to destroy the town, a wave of fury had swept over the rabids. Soon, the flurry of concealed movement had turned into chaos—fangs and claws out, flesh tearing and blood spilling everywhere.

He had lost track of how many rabids had fallen on him. Despite his strength, despite the royal force running through his veins, there had been just too many. By the time the fight was over, he had lost so much blood he could barely move anymore.

He touched the scorched wall in front of him. Still warm. The last remnants of the fire were dying out, licks of flame peeking through the windows only occasionally now.

How long had he been unconscious?
A few hours at least. Enough for his body to regain some strength and start to heal.

He stepped into the burned down building to his right, his eyes searching for the darkest corner. Dawn was looming closer and he had no choice but to hide until night returned.

The hunger inside him pulsed stronger, angrier.

He slid into an empty room just as the sun started to peek over the horizon.
One more day in hiding. Hopefully Miles and some of his guards were crawling into the safety of the shadows somewhere in Franklin.

He closed his eyes, the hunger pulling with a fierceness that felt maddening.

Belle
.

As soon as darkness came, he would go hunting for her.

~ * ~

The last slivers of sunlight were surrendering behind the horizon when he stepped outside. Flickers of light danced on his skin, sizzling heat. The hunger inside him pulled, demanding satisfaction.

Nobody had come after him during the day, so all rabids who had once populated Franklin were either dead or gone. In the fading light, it was easy to see why. Franklin was a skeleton of ashes, slowly crumbling to its final resting place. A few rhythmic sounds danced in the background—windows, slamming open and closed in the silence of the evening. The air was thick with dust and the sweet smell of death.

“Marcus.”

He didn’t have to turn around to feel Miles emerging from one of the buildings behind him. 

“How many did we lose?” Marcus asked.

Miles moved closer and rested his hand on the king’s shoulder.

“Not that many.
Three, maybe four. I can’t find Grayson.”

The wind was starting to pick up, carrying away the smell of blood.
The sluggish sounds of the night waking up and eating away into the darkness.

He’d
spent most of the daylight hours trying to figure out Patrick’s plan and at some point during the afternoon it had dawned on him. Patrick wasn’t there because he was probably leading his army somewhere else. To the compound, more than likely. His brother was smart enough to figure out the two options: either the king was heading towards Franklin and he would be attacked by the rabids. Or he’d be at the compound, his defenses weakened. Either way, Patrick probably thought he had a chance to get rid of the king.

Marcus clenched his hands into fists, blood rushing with a painful groan through his veins. He had fallen for the trick, leaving Belle alone back at the compound.
If his brother had done anything to her… The thought bit into him, frustration and anger building until it burned. It was his fault, all of it. And the visceral feeling that stirred in his stomach made him want to scream. Want to hurt somebody.

“Let’s round everybody up and head back to the compound,” he finally said.

And when he turned to look at Miles, he saw the same concern slicing into his friend.

By the time Belle reached the farm, she had been in the road for over fourteen hours and the sun was almost setting. Not that it mattered anymore, except for the fact that the house would be in lockdown if she arrived in the darkness.

The faint murmuring of sunset slid into the car like a lullaby, the softness of the day washing away and making space for darkness to come rushing in. She almost welcomed it. Darkness had always had a soothing effect on her, even among the chaos and the violence. Darkness meant a chance to quiet down and listen to the night dance away around you. Even after the invasion, she still relished those quiet moments, when she could pretend that the world was just sleeping—and that she would wake up the next morning to realize it had all been a nightmare.

Except the morning had never come.
At least not the kind of morning she’d wanted.

By now, the compound would be completely gone, consumed by the fire and the beasts thrashing their way inside it.

She had spent most of the drive fighting the urge to turn around and go back to the compound. To look for survivors. To wait for Marcus.

The memory of his last words tugged and cut through her mind.
He loved her. Though it made no sense, in any way possible.

Even worse, she loved him too. Despite
who he was and what it all meant.

She pushed down on the gas and tried to focus her eyes on the distance, searching for a hint of movement.

Nothing.

The world was quiet.

No, the world is dead
.

When she turned into a wooded path and saw the house in the distance, her chest contracted. Part of her
didn’t want to face the people she had left behind without an explanation. The same people she had betrayed by falling in love with the enemy.

But then
the front door opened and the silhouettes materialized into the fading daylight. If there had ever been a chance to make a quick escape, it was gone now.

It was too far and already too dark to make out who was coming out of the house, but they had obviously recognized the car and were coming out to greet her.

The scope of what had happened just hours ago came rushing back, washing over her until her hands started to shake. The world had just changed again and nobody at the farm was aware of it. She had changed. Forever. Irrevocably.

The memory of Marcus’ arms around her clutched at her chest and the beginning of tears formed in her eyes.

Not now
, she told herself.
Don’t you dare
.

The shuffle ahead got louder, more visible
, as Isabelle turned the car into a narrow passageway behind the barn. It was the only place to hide the vehicle so it couldn’t be seen from down the road. It was a habit that had started a long time ago, when survivors still roamed the highways, desperate for a vehicle to flee the cities. As the number of survivors dwindled, they kept hiding the car, telling themselves they were hiding it from the vampires as well. Now it just seemed futile, but she did it anyway.

She lowered her head and closed her eyes, her forehead resting on her hands over the steering wheel. She sat there for a few seconds, trying to slow down her breathing, grasping through the chaos of thoughts.
Trying to find the eye of the storm raging inside her.

Part of her wanted to stay in the car forever, eyes closed and frozen in time.
But the insistent knocking on the glass was impossible to ignore.

She took a deep breath and looked up.

Robert was standing next to the car, gun in hand and a huge smile on his face. She guessed they were still doing night shifts and it was his turn again to watch the house while everybody else slept.

Another useless shift.

She pushed the door open and got out of the car. Arms hugged her before she had a chance to realize who the owner was.

“You’re back!” Anna almost whispered, but the delight in her voice was obvious.

She returned the hug. At nineteen, Anna was the youngest person in the group. In fact, she was the youngest person Isabelle had seen alive in a long, long time aside from Lori back in the compound. The invasion
hadn’t been kind to the very young and the very old—and by the time famine and illness arrived, only the strong and the clever had survived.

Night was quickly descending over the farm and for the first time, she
wasn’t in much of a hurry to get inside. The nervousness creeping over the people around her escaped her. There was no such thing as a safe hour anymore. No such thing as hiding in the sun to escape the monsters. So the night was little more than a blanket of darkness now. Easier for the monsters to hide in, but not much more dangerous than the bright hours had been.

The night was Marcus’ domain.
His kingdom. The darkness of delicious passion and heat and secrets opening up. Night would never again be just the realm of fear to her.

The tightness in her chest increased as she thought of him. Where was he? Was he safe? She fought the urge to get back into the car and drive into the night to search for him. There was nowhere to go.

Anna let go of her and looked around. “Let’s get back inside before it gets too dark,” she said.

Isabelle looked towards the house, dim and dead in the distance. “Where’s Shawn?”

Robert hesitated and her breathing froze. “He’s out for the night.”

Fear shot down her spine, the words not sinking in. “Out? What do you mean, out?”

“There’s no place left to scavenge nearby, so we’ve had to go further and further. Sleep out on the roads for a night in order to reach other towns.”

Sleep out on the roads
… Jesus.

And then
her blood ran cold as the pieces fell into place. “Which direction?”

“Shawn and Tommy went north this time.”

North. Towards the rabids and Franklin and the void razing the roads on its way down. One night on the roads would put him dangerously close to the compound. Close to Patrick and the pestilence reaching out to infect everything in its path.

Anna pulled at her arm towards the house. It made no sense to resist, so Isabelle followed the girl, with Robert tight behind her.

“Where have you been?” Anna was asking. “Did you reach the compound?” And then her voice got smaller, wavered. “Did you talk to them?”

Isabelle nodded, failing to find the right words.

“What are they like?”

Magnificent
.

“I’ll tell you all about it inside. Is everybody else okay?”

Silence. Then Robert put a hand on her shoulder. “Almost everybody. Let’s get in, Isabelle. We still need to close the last shutters.”

Playing hide and seek with the monsters again.

And all she could think about was Marcus.

~ * ~

She sat in a corner while everybody helped get the house ready for the night. Quick hugs and smiles reached her on the way to securing the windows and doors. She knew everybody was glad to see her, but fear and restlessness were stronger at the moment—so she let them go about their business, securing the house while she waited in the shadows.

Truth was
, she was extremely glad for the minutes alone. Mostly because she needed to regain her center, figure out what to tell everybody. Most importantly, figure out what
not
to tell them. Because nobody in the house was going to hear about the king and how he’d stolen her heart. Or how she’d willingly walked into his bed night after night with a craving that felt beyond human.

Or
that she loved him and she would die protecting him.

Nobody
—and especially not her brother Shawn—needed to hear that.

But
she had to talk about the rabids and the dangers waiting for them outside these walls. She looked at the shutters and the chain locks keeping the doors in place and her mind flew back to the compound—rabids tearing down metal doors, jumping over walls fifteen feet high, teeth and claws tearing the place apart as if it had been nothing more than a paper house.

Their
locks and wood shutters would be no match for a determined vampire. Even less of a challenge for a rabid crazed by the smell of human blood inside the walls. They would all be dead before they had a chance to realize what was happening.

The entire house suddenly felt exposed and she began to wonder whether they should just pack up and move somewhere else.
Somewhere more isolated, where they actually stood a chance in case of an attack. If that place actually existed, that was. Because the compound had been the closest thing to a fortress she had ever seen—and it has still taken just one organized attack to bring it down.

Robert came back from the living room and handed her a candle and matches. “Want to do the honors?”

She ignited the match and the entire room flashed into view. She missed the freedom of electricity back in the compound. Not because she missed the actual buzzing of energy through the walls—but because that humming meant freedom. The kind of freedom you could have if you weren’t hiding as a hunted rodent in the darkness. The walls of the house started to close down on her.

It
didn’t take long before everybody was sitting around the single candle. Everyone except Bruce. Robert nodded and she didn’t have to ask where Bruce was. He was always volunteering for scavenging trips and always taking risks. Was it really a surprise that one of those had turned out wrong? Tamping down anxiety and anger, she told herself she would ask about it later, when everybody else had gone to bed. Right now, she needed to get through her own story first.

Moment of truth
.

But
the words wouldn’t come. She pressed deeper, looking for the right sentences—the right lies—to ground herself.

In the
end it was Anna who broke the silence, ending the agony. “Did you make it to the compound?”

Isabelle nodded. “I met the king too.”

The heaviness in the air grew heavier. Anna and her sister Sofia gulped air next to her ear and she tried to push down her feelings, tried to ignore the tug inside her.

Careful
, she told herself.

“This is hard to explain, but they’re nothing like we think they are,” she said. “The ones at the compound, the king… they’re different to the ones outside.”

Sarah, who looked much older than her five decades should have her looking, arched her back down towards the candle. She seemed so tired. In fact, there was a hollowness to everybody in the house, a sense of fatigue that shocked her. Had it always been this way and she just hadn’t noticed it before? The entire world was blurring together. Their reality, her reality. Marcus’ reality, somewhere out there, deep into the darkness.

“Different how?”
Sarah asked.

“They’re more… human.”

As soon as the word was out, the collective gasp and cursing swept through the room. She fought the temptation to take the words back. They needed to hear this. If she was ever going to be able to explain the difference between rogue vampires and vampires they could trust, she needed to start now.

The mumbling in the room got louder, followed by insistent shushing and pleas for silence.
They’d all suffered so much loss, so much pain. The world was gone. Was it really a surprise they were fighting the idea of a vampire who wasn’t a monster?

A month ago, the concept would have sounded just as obscene to her too.

“I don’t expect anybody to believe me, really. But the vampires in the compound are not bloodthirsty monsters. They’re not violent. The humans living there, they’re not mistreated or abused…”

“What about rape? Don’t they rape women regularly?” Sarah whispered.

“No, they don’t,” Isabelle answered, searching for some understanding around the room and finding nothing but confusion. “It’s… complicated. But there’s no violence in the compound or from the king.”

The heaviness in the room seeped into
her own chest. The entire future of the human race was wavering at the edge of a cliff and her patience was rapidly disappearing. She wanted to scream, tell everybody to stop asking questions about things that didn’t matter. Things she couldn’t answer without exposing her heart. She was tired—and not only from lack of sleep. It was a tiredness that came from inside and then radiated to the rest of her body, making her soft and wry. Making her less than diplomatic.

“Look, it doesn’t matter. That part, it doesn’t matter.” She took a deep breath. “There’s something else we need to worry about. It’s something the vampires call rabids.”

And then she explained as best she could what the void was. What the illness did, how it changed vampires. Why it was so hard to stop and why they should fear it so much. She had seen firsthand, up close, what a rabid could do. She had seen the sickness change the magnificence of a vampire into little more than a monster. So when Robert interrupted her to say the void sounded like a good thing, she almost lost it.