As dawn breaks, p.8
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As Dawn Breaks, page 8

 

As Dawn Breaks
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  David jumped from the car before it even came to a stop, his feet taking him to the front door. Police gathered with the orange and black tape.

  “You can’t enter—"an officer sputtered, but quickly died away when a touch fell on David’s shoulder.

  He knew who it was before without looking. “Officer Fernly. He’s the Yeux Secondes. Let him in.” Genevieve’s voice was low but firm, and the officer nodded.

  Looking around, he saw the carnage instantly. Blood spattered the walls and floors. The scent of death was ripe on the air, and he nearly gagged. “Where? How many?”

  The officer simply shook his head. “I don’t know, sir. Lots. There're vamps in there.” He indicated the office spaces.

  Without waiting to hear more, David took off, galloping over the blood-slimed tiles while Genevieve followed.

  They entered his office, and there, sitting hunched over, was Daniel, Cressida’s arms enfolding him.

  The couple looked up, and he saw the mix of grim acceptance and steely determination in the other man’s face. Awareness bloomed. Daniel had been the Yeux Secondes before David. Forcing words of apology past his stiff lips didn’t seem to make any difference.

  “Leave us,” Cressida whispered, so he backed out, thankful Genevieve hadn’t entered the room behind him. The intimacy of the scene was too raw for him to remain, yet in that instant, he knew he wanted—needed—the same intensity of emotion.

  Stepping back into the hall, he whirled to face Genevieve, her face pale. He blinked.

  “I need to—”

  Genevieve put her hand on his arm. “I can help. Tell me what you want, I’ll do it. But first, I’ll call for reinforcements.”

  The breath he’d held whooshed between his lips. “Thank you.”

  She blinked. “What? Don’t thank me. There’s lots to do.”

  He stopped her. “My timing sucks. Just… Maybe down the track…” He let the words trail away because the timing was so, so wrong.

  Her eyes widened, and then she visibly clamped down on all emotions. “Later.”

  Genevieve moved away, raising her phone to her ear. He got the distinct impression it was a tactical retreat.

  A voice called out to him, and he turned, once more assuming the role where the responsibility for the humans of the nest was his entirely. Alone.

  Genevieve slumped on the steps. Someone had pushed a bottle of water into her hands, and she surveyed the now contained chaos unfolding before her.

  All the injured had been triaged. Vampires were laid out in groups in the courtyard. The attackers on one side, a mound rising high towards the quickly lightening sky. The fragile human bodies had been moved to the morgue.

  Whatever identification those who’d attacked had was collected so families could be apprised by the Council. They were new, fledglings, and while they’d been more than happy to murder in their frenzy, their families deserved the peace of knowing they’d found eternal rest.

  The nested vampires made up a smaller pile, treated with dignity and respect as they’d attempted to defend the house.

  The sun would eradicate the bodies, so only ash remained. Under normal circumstances, there would have been a memorial the next night, Genevieve knew. Not this time. There were too many issues competing.

  “We’ll hold a memorial later.” David lowered himself to the step beside her. “This is the best we could do. The others will retreat. I’ll stay. Hold a vigil so they don’t go into the unknown alone.”

  She glanced sideways at him. “They usually burn them, don’t they?”

  “Some. We usually allow the sun to take the body, then memorialise the following night. This time we can’t. I know some use a funeral pyre. We aren’t allowed to here. Apparently it’s a health hazard.”

  Against her will, she smiled at his dry announcement, but that small amount of mirth died away. “What happens next?”

  He sighed. The sound of a wounded man. “We arrange for the mass funeral, and then we find them. Eradicate Attar and his sycophants.”

  She took a moment, then dropped an almost silent “I meant you.”

  He stilled as if she’d breached some deep, dark wall. “I can’t stay here. It feels wrong, Genevieve. I want something, but it’s not yet clear. This nest deserves more than I can give.”

  When she looked back at him, she saw he was staring off into the distance. “You’re not happy being the Yeux Secondes?”

  “Truthfully? I doubt I ever really considered that it wasn’t something I didn’t want to be. I was raised knowing this was where my future lay. When my parents left the House of Tudor, I stepped up, because I knew the nest and was trained. But I never fit in, not after everything that happened with Hope.”

  “I heard a little,” Genny muttered.

  His laugh was bitter. “Let me see if I can sum it up succinctly. I bought into the lies Alexa, my ex-wife, peddled, and married a woman who was a plant for the other side. Then my father fleeced the nest, and whether my mother really knew much, well, I doubt I’ll ever know. They both encouraged the relationship with my wife.” He hurled the words like missiles. “After Alexa was arrested, she told me the pregnancy she’d claimed was a phantom, and I divorced her. I was left feeling dirty and used. So, here I am at thirty-three, one failed marriage, one position as Yeux Secondes abandoned because I couldn’t handle the fallout, and at the second, I’ve failed the house. People died because I didn’t do my job.”

  The bitterness in his words tore at her, and she reached out. “It wasn’t your fault. How could you know that—”

  “I hate the job, Genevieve. In hindsight, it’s not what I want to do. I’d rather live my own life on my own terms. I allowed others to direct my life, to tell me what my future was. So like a dutiful son, I let my parents dictate who I married.”

  He grunted and ran his hands through his hair. This time, when he looked up, there was misery in the depths of his gaze, his face tight, and his chest moved at a rapid up-and-down pace. “I had a girlfriend once, Genevieve. A long time ago. A nice girl. Sarah. She wasn’t deemed suitable, and I let them pull us apart because they said I needed a wife who’d be able to assist me in running the house. The right kind with breeding.” His laugh was full of self-recrimination. “What kind of man does that make me? The only word that comes to mind is ‘weak.’” He slumped now, head in his hands, between his knees. “Alexa didn’t even make the cut as to breeding, yet they told me that could be overlooked because she knew her place.”

  Genevieve reached out without thinking and placed her hand on his shoulder while blinking tears away. He just looked dejected and defeated. Two words that never would have come to mind for this man.

  “We don’t have to be defined by our pasts, David. We can be more.” She believed that, because it was how she attempted to live her life. She also had skeletons in her closet.

  “Yeah,” he muttered.

  “David?”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you kiss me?” The words escaped before she could stop them, but once said, she wouldn’t take them back or swallow them. Because she wanted that kiss with a sudden burning intensity. Wanted it with him, because that vulnerability she saw matched the one she buried deep within herself.

  He looked at her, not saying a word, because the question was there in his gaze.

  “I want you to kiss me.” She leaned in and took his shoulder to steady herself.

  They met somewhere in the middle, and the glance of flesh was soft. No more than a butterfly wing’s touch, but full of promise.

  When she pulled away, her heart beat a rapid tattoo. “Well…” She felt the flaming of her face but allowed a smile to curve her lips upwards. “Well,” she repeated.

  “Genevieve?”

  “Yes, David?”

  “When this is done, I want to take you out. Get to know you better.”

  Warmth flooded her, and she nodded. “I think I’d like that, David.”

  The shutters descending over the house shattered the relative silence around them. His hand snaked into hers. “Stay with me?”

  His gentle request was simple to grant. “Let me send a text to the boss. I’ll stay here, and when it’s done, we could grab a coffee and maybe talk?”

  The first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon, as golds and reds of the sunset became an absolution to those who’d attacked the nest. Sunlight traced over the garden, racing towards those who’d been lost, and with a whoosh, they ignited.

  There was no birdsong as they sat and waited out the natural cremation. And when it was done, piles of ash lay in their place.

  “I’ll have someone come out later and clear it up.” A tiny breeze wafted over them as he reached for her hand. “Come inside and we’ll have that coffee.”

  Chapter 9

  There’d been no time to rest, though. The House of Grimardi had also been hit. Far worse. Al bin Habbad lost many members, and Daniel’s father had been just one of the dozens of victims. Grimardi fared a lot worse.

  “They spread their resources,” Javed growled.

  “While we were dealing with one attack, they’d sent others to Grimardi. The results are catastrophic. We can take some, but two nests needing assistance? We can’t help that many.”

  In his head, David knew the al bin Habbad nest would need to see to its own. Grimardi was in far worse condition, with over forty humans lost and ten of their warriors. His house had lost six humans, five vampires protecting the nest, and had killed thirteen of the attackers.

  “Javed, I believe our numbers were less. We could take several warriors, if need be, and we can house maybe thirty of the humans in the new apartments. We haven’t yet allocated them.” David knew Javed was working hard to keep his anger in check. He’d been absent during the attack, and he’d felt that knowledge weighing on him.

  “Indeed.” The vampire steepled his fingers and glanced at David, who felt a flush creeping over his face.

  Quick discussions took place, doling out the humans and vampires, finding alternative venues. Discussions continued, weighing up the pros and cons, and the whole time David felt like an outsider and intruder.

  The funeral would take place the following evening, but tonight, things had to move quickly. There were too many humans and vampires left in dangerous conditions for the discussions to be prolonged.

  Within the hour, the meeting broke up. Before David stood, he cleared his throat and met Javed’s gaze. “Could we talk privately?”

  The vampire nodded slowly. The others melted away from the room, and David waited, his emotions running riot. Once alone, Javed moved around the table so they were seated opposite.

  “You have something on your mind, David?”

  He nodded, trying hard to push the words out. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t there.”

  Javed waited, the silence stretching out, and David’s nerves twanged with agitation.

  “Javed?”

  The vampire grunted, his face grave as he pushed back in his chair. “You alone are to blame?”

  David stared at him. “If I’d been there, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

  “You have an inside working knowledge of Attar’s movements? Knew they were going to attack?” His hands moved apart, palm upwards.

  “Well, no.”

  “You can split yourself into many pieces? Fight all these vampires? Personally save and secure the nest?” The words escaped in an amused drawl.

  David felt the flush, heat filling his face. “No. But—”

  Javed held up a hand. “You are not to blame. You were following up on a situation. To be fair, I’m not sure why, and you were busy with the pretty officer, but you couldn’t save our people. You’re one man, David. But what I do sense is the question that surrounds you. You’re not happy within the nest. It’s different to how you’ve always lived, and I feel that makes you uncomfortable. Your interest in the cars and the outside forces brings many questions into play. Ones only you can answer.”

  David wanted to argue, but the words stuck in his throat. The truth was, as he’d told Genevieve, it wasn’t right for him to be the Yeux Secondes. He opened his mouth to speak, but Javed shook his head.

  “Now is not the time for words and decisions. It’s a time to prepare, to mourn. After Attar is brought to justice, we’ll talk again.”

  “No,” David muttered. “Once this is done, I will leave. I need time to think about what I want to do. You need me to help you find a replacement. The house has already had another leave. You and yours deserve that much. But please, I haven’t announced it and don’t intend to. Not until Attar is dealt with.”

  Javed inclined his head. “Then I shall keep this to myself, but, David, you should not feel guilt. That’s for those who have options. You didn’t. You’re a good man. One who deserves better than the hand you’ve been dealt.”

  A harsh laugh escaped. “That’s funny. She said something similar too.”

  Javed quirked a brow. “Who?”

  “Genevieve. Uh, Officer Fernly.”

  A smile spread across Javed’s face. “Then she’s a wise woman. One with demons of her own, but Insh’Allah,” he said.

  “Pardon?”

  “If Allah wills it. Now, David, the night is aging, and you’re in need of rest. Go. We’re making plans for later.”

  “I should—”

  Javed shook his head. “No, Cressida and Daniel are making the plans. His father and so on. Too many to count have been lost, but he’s felt it harder than most. Go rest, friend.” The vampire master stood and left the room without looking back.

  David rose, feeling like an old man, and headed for the stairs. The scent of fresh paint, disinfectant, and cleaners assaulted his nostrils.

  Rest. If only he could.

  In his small room, he pulled out his cell phone and glanced down.

  On a whim, he typed out a quick text.

  He laughed when three dots appeared on the screen straight after the delivered notification.

 

 

 

  A tiny kiss appeared on the screen, and he couldn’t control the grin. Whatever it was about Genevieve Fernly, one thing was certain: it would be really easy to get deep quickly with her.

  Would that be such a bad thing? his psyche asked. With a groan, he slumped onto the bed, unable to answer his own question with certainty.

  He lay still, willing his mind to settle.

  Eventually he closed his eyes, and sleep came.

  Genevieve slammed the door shut. “Bastard,” she snarled. Scrunching the piece of paper in her hands, she hurled it to the other end of the room.

  She didn’t need to read it to remember the words. They were inscribed in her mind, like the carving on a tree trunk.

  Gen, ring me. I’ve missed you so much and want to make it up to you. We can be great again, just give me the chance to prove it.

  J

  She scoffed. As if!

  The focus on work should have been her key priority, but taking up a chunk of her brainpower was David Jardin, the sexy and enigmatic Yeux Secondes. Julien didn’t count anymore. Perhaps she’d finally moved on?

  She shoved the thoughts aside with a sigh.

  She’d spent the last two days filling out paperwork concerning the bust on the mercantile, and another day and a bit on the attack at the nest. “And I’m not even a fucking nestling.” Not that it mattered. She’d rendered aid, had questions to answer and forms to fill in.

  It was always the way of things in the service.

  She sipped her coffee and settled at the table, her eyes half closed as she rested. The nights had been long, the days longer, and her rest almost non-existent.

  Even as she slipped into a twilight type trance, the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Genny?” Julien’s voice filtered over the line, and she almost growled.

  “What do you want?”

  “Another chance, petite. I know I hurt you—”

  Now she laughed, the sound dark and filled with malice. “Really? When did you work that one out? Stop calling me. No more notes, Julien. We’re done.” She hung up, then stared at the phone as if it were a poisonous snake. “Enough!” She reached out, ready to dial a number, then snarled, grabbed her keys and purse. She needed air and a run. Nothing less would soothe her right now.

  At the door, realisation bloomed. The funeral was tonight. He surely wouldn’t welcome her intrusion. Even so, there was the urgency to check on him thrumming in her veins. It was more than intention and need. It was… more a compulsion, Genny admitted.

  Dropping the keys and purse on the table by the door, she headed for the bathroom. A shower would help, then maybe sleep. She dropped the cell on the bed as she moved towards the bathroom, stripping as she went. Her uniforms lying by the hamper reminded her that laundry was well overdue too.

  The water from the shower ran hot, and she slid beneath it, letting it wash away the fatigue and frustration. Soaping and rinsing her hair took only moments, and she considered briefly cutting it short.

  None of the girls in the pride did that. It was like some kind of unwritten rule, Genny guessed.

  “Maybe it’s time,” she muttered, turning the water off and stepping onto the mat while wrapping the towel around herself. Peering into the fogged mirror, the strands hanging down, her gaze moved to the red mark on her chest. The daily reminder of the past she couldn’t outrun.

  Genny grabbed the hank of hair and held it away, imagining it short. Her face was slight, and the curl bouncing up framed it. “Hmm, shows promise.”

  Dropping her towel, she bent and started sorting through the laundry. One thing her mother had been insistent on when she bought her apartment was her own washing machine. Her mother’s words reminding her that this way only her underwear went in it, not the multitude of others’ living in the complex, had stuck. Of course, that hadn’t been the only thing she’d thrown a fit about when Genny moved in.

 
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