Blood-Kissed Sky (Darkness Before Dawn) (19 page)

He’s been infected by the Thirst.

He looks just like Brady: eyes blackened, muscles unstable and twitching as if trying to flee their owner’s skin. And instead of a single pair of fangs, his entire mouth has been transformed into a maw lined with teeth that take on the form of shattered glass.

For all of Christopher’s arrogance, he backs it up with skill. His stakes seem like natural extensions of his body, and he moves them with finesse. But the monster coming at him strikes with more strength and as Christopher tries to bring down a stake, the vampire catches his arm and throws the seasoned hunter across the room with ferocious power.

Michael wastes no time, unable to even register shock in the heat of battle. He rushes in, slams his stake into the beast’s chest, but he is off his mark. The creature howls in outrage before delivering a kick that sends Michael back and into the wall. A cracking sound follows. I can only pray it wasn’t his ribs breaking. Just in time, Christopher is up again and charges. The distracted vampire can’t catch the stake, but deflects its deadly trajectory—it lands solidly in the vampire’s shoulder, just missing the heart.

The raging beast is stunned, and Michael comes up, his stake finding a weak point just below the monster’s rib cage. The stake slides in so cleanly, it’s hard to reconcile the violence with the precision of Michael’s movements.

Each of the hunters, still holding a stake inside of their prey, pulls out another and delivers the final killing blows deep into the chest—one from the front, one from the back.

The vampire’s blackened eyes don’t change, only the face surrounding them. It moves from anger, to defeat, and finally to fear of what’s to come when his life slips away.

Michael and Christopher step back and the vampire falls to the floor. Dead.

Breathing heavily, Christopher stares down at the sprawled vampire. “That’s one ugly mother—”

His words are drowned out by a long whistle sound, and I hope that means we’re about to start moving again.

“I need a drink,” Christopher says, brushing past me as he heads down the hallway to my car.

In spite of the strenuous battle, Michael is barely out of breath as he puts his hand on my back and urges me to follow Christopher. We step into the compartment in time to see Christopher walk over to the bar, reach into it, and pull out a bottle along with three glasses. He pours amber liquid into each one.

“See,” Christopher says, finally catching his breath, “I killed one, and still managed to look good.” He straightens his jacket and runs his fingers through his hair.

Before I can scoff at his arrogance, a vampire suddenly jumps onto him from behind the bar, his glistening fangs tearing into Christopher’s neck.

“N
o!” I scream as blood spews from the ravaged artery. This vampire, just like the one before him, has been taken by the Thirst. Christopher’s blood won’t give him any sustenance, but the thrill of the kill may put a fanged smile on his face all the same.

Taking a running leap, I slam into the vampire’s back and bring my stake down with force, but I must have missed the heart, because he throws me off like I weigh nothing, his strength not diminished at all.

I land with a thud, stunned, watching through a haze of dizziness. At least he released his hold on Christopher, who struggles to his feet and puts a hand to his neck to stop the flow of blood. With the other hand, he pulls out a stake.

Michael rushes in and delivers a clumsy strike that only grazes his opponent. He’s pushed back violently, his head banging into the train wall, the tinny vibration echoing around us. Christopher takes a step forward, but quickly stumbles, drops to one knee, and opens his palm. His stake rolls out with a clatter. I’ve never seen so much blood.

Laughing manically, the creature darts around the room. Shaking my head, I force myself to focus. I tighten my grip on my stake, determined to do whatever I can, to go down fighting. Pushing myself to my feet, screaming with anger and frustration, I charge—

The shining metal tip of a stake bursts through the vampire’s chest. I stagger to a stop as he blinks in muted surprise before falling forward, dead. Ian stands behind him.

Turning my attention to Christopher, I grab a blanket from the bed, hurry over, and kneel beside him. I press a corner of the soft material against the gaping wound. “Just hold on.”

Ian drops down beside us. “Hang in there, kid.” He places his hand over mine, but it’s not enough to stop the flow of blood.

“Oh, Ian, you’ve joined us just in time for drinks.” Christopher coughs up blood.

“Stop talking.”

Reaching down, I wrap my hand around Christopher’s. His fingers respond, squeezing mine tightly.

“Looks like I should’ve stayed on those sunny beaches,” Christopher croaks.

“We’ll get you back there,” Ian assures him.

“I can already hear the waves crashing against the rocks. What about you, Ian? Can you hear them?”

“Yes …”

“They sound … beautiful …”

His fingers go lax in mine and I know he’s gone. Tears burn my eyes, clog my throat. I stand up. I don’t want to leave him, but I can’t bear his stilled expression. So final. So permanent.

Ian reaches down, grabs a small leather necklace Christopher wore, and yanks it off, then places it in his pocket before shooting to his feet. “Let’s go, Michael. I rushed here when I heard your screams, but I’m pretty sure I spotted a vampire moving through one of the cars. Maybe even Old Family by the looks of him.” He heads for the door, Michael in his wake.

“Old Family?” I call out.

“Yeah. He brushed by me. When I looked back, he was gone. No one moves that fast,” he says, a flash of uncontrolled anger in his voice.

“Brown hair, a braid on one side?” I ask, rushing after him because he’s almost through the door.

“That’s him.”

“Ian, he’s a friend! And there’s another one.”

That stops him dead in his tracks. It doesn’t help that Michael is staring at me, an incredulous look on his face, and I know what he’s thinking:
More vampires, Dawn? Really?

But when Ian turns around slowly and glares at me, I have a sense of how Lord Percy may have felt when he found himself face to face with Ian Hightower: terrified.

H
alf an hour later, the train is lumbering along and everyone is in my bedroom, the luxury of it all feeling more like a prison now. After Ian gave me the death stare, we went searching and found Richard and Faith with Tegan in one of the sleeper cars, along with a dozen other teenagers. I gave her a big hug and said I’d explain everything.

Ian said, “You will. Right now.”

So here we are. Michael, Tegan, Ian, Faith, Richard, and myself, all sitting around in various chairs near the fireplace. Ian had the train staff remove all evidence that any violence occurred here, but I’m still chilled and wish we had a fire going.

“Did you two have anything to do with this attack?” Ian asks immediately, eyeing their hearts.

“No,” Richard says, not intimidated. But then why should he be? He’s Old Family. Even with four stake holders in the room, the odds are still in his favor. Faith is no slouch when it comes to defending herself, either. “We were with Dawn when the attack occurred. Faith grabbed Tegan, along with a number of other kids, and got them to safety. I found them shortly after. Along with a Thirst-infected.”

“Yes, I saw the body,” Ian says. “I wondered who killed him.”

“He put up quite a fight. He probably scented Faith. Not that he wasn’t looking for humans as well. The Infected need vampire blood, but they’ll take any blood that’s available.”

“They saved us,” Tegan says, her words cautious and slow as though she’s having a difficult time believing that she’s saying them. She’s always been fascinated by Old Family vampires, but now that she’s sitting in a room with two of them, she seems uncertain. Should she be curious or afraid? After all, Sin was the last Old Family vamp she spent time with, and that didn’t turn out too well. “If Faith hadn’t been there, we would’ve been running around aimlessly, just waiting to get pounced on. And even when we were all huddled in that room, she had her stake out, ear at the door, waiting.”

I look over at Faith, and can tell she doesn’t like the thought of being a heroine. Still … she can’t hide her smile completely.

“Did the passengers see your fangs?” Ian asks.

“No,” Faith says. “They didn’t see Richard’s, either. As far as they’re concerned, we’re good hunters who just happened to be at the right place, at the right time.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way. And … thank you. It would’ve been a lot worse if you hadn’t been there.”

I breathe a little easier. Things aren’t so bad. But then again, Michael hasn’t spoken. At least not with words. His eyes convey betrayal, a look I’m painfully familiar with. Because I introduced them right before the attack. I deliberately let him think they were human. It’s Victor all over again.

“How many vampires are you going to keep from us, Dawn?” Michael asks.

“They’re the last.”

“Wish that were
literally
true,” Michael mumbles, glaring at them.

“How do we know that we got them all?” Tegan asks, glancing around warily. “I mean, how did the one who killed Christopher get in here? Maybe there are others.”

“He must have been hiding beneath a seat in the next car,” Michaels says. “When we all rushed to fight the first Infected, he snuck in here.”

“Why didn’t he just join the fight with his friend?”

“Who knows why vampires do the things they do?” He slides his gaze over to Richard.

“If you expect me to be offended …” Richard smiles. “We often say the same thing about humans. As for the Infected who surprised your comrade-in-arms—I agree that it’s impossible to determine his reasoning. The Thirst eats away at all rational thought.”

“But there could be more hiding on the train,” Tegan insists.

“I truly doubt it,” Ian assures her. “Several former soldiers are onboard. They took on the task of sweeping through the cars and making sure no vampire remained unstaked. Except for Dawn’s two friends here.”

“Do you know how the Thirst-infected got onboard?” Richards asks.

“They put boulders on the track,” Ian explains. “Fortunately, the engineer saw them and was able to stop before we smashed at full speed into them. Don’t get me wrong, this train can deal with some rocks, but only at slow speeds. Hitting them going full blast might derail us. That’s probably what the vamps wanted. By the time the engineer assessed the situation and determined he could plow through without causing much damage to the train, the vamps had already gotten through a weak point. An old plate had been welded over a hole in the floor. It had come loose. They crawled along the bottom, found it, and tore it off. Along with Christopher, eleven were killed tonight.”

“Oh my God,” I whisper. Eleven. I knew the dead humans and vampires had been left beside the tracks. I hated that, but Ian had no way to preserve them. “Have you ever been attacked by these Infected before?”

“No. I’ve seen them on the outskirts of Los Angeles, but not out here. Only unaffected vampires, Lessers, come this far away from the cities. At least, they used to. I’m afraid, Dawn, that your little trip to Los Angeles may have come too late.”

“I’m sure I can still discover something to help us. But I’m also hoping I might learn something more about the Day Walkers or get a lead on where we might find Sin. He said he came from Los Angeles.”

“That’s probably a lie,” Faith says. “He’s too cunning to make such a stupid slip.”

“Besides,” Richard adds, “Los Angeles doesn’t have any Day Walkers. Sin certainly never created any havoc there.”

“But you haven’t been back in two years,” I remind him. “Would you hear if he’d done anything?”

“Humans are isolated; vampires aren’t. We have ways of communicating, and we travel more freely than you might think. Old Family, anyway.”

I reluctantly admit that Richard is probably right. I won’t find out anything about Day Walkers in Los Angeles. Sin kept his abilities a secret until Hell Night.

“In his letter Clive said you needed three days in Los Angeles,” Ian says. “Is that going to be enough time?”

I don’t want to stay away from Denver too long. The last thing I want to do is return to find that its walls have already crumbled. I grit my teeth. “I’ll make it enough.”

I
t is late in the night when Ian, Faith, and Richard leave. I am certain that Ian is going to check on the passengers and scour the train for any other dangers. Faith and Richard—well, I wonder if they might try to find a cozy little corner. Facing death has a way of putting things into perspective, making you realize who is important in your life.

Tegan is obviously exhausted. We prepare for bed as though we’re moving through molasses. When we’re both in flannel pants and tanks, I invite Michael back in from the hallway where he’s been waiting. He leans against the entrance.

“You should try to get some sleep,” I tell him.

“I’ll keep watch.”