Darkness Before Dawn (9 page)

“You’re right. He’s playing some sort of mind game,” she says. She sets two plates of pancakes on the island counter. “Dig in.”

I sit on the stool and drench my pancakes in syrup.

“So hit the high points of your meeting with Valentine,” she orders.

I already did. I mentioned that Victor was there. I’m having a hard time moving beyond that, moving beyond his being in my bedroom, moving beyond his body pressed up against mine. It was so personal, so intimate. As I lift my fork, I catch a whiff of Victor’s scent—tart and spicy—that transferred to my clothes when he was leaning against me. I have to stop thinking about him.

“Uh, well, he wants more blood,” I finally say to Rachel.

“I hope you were a bit more articulate when you were with him,” she says, her brow furrowed.

“I was. I’m just tired. It’s been a long night.” But I persevere. I tell her everything that Valentine and I discussed. When I’m finished, she tells me to try to get some sleep. I’ll have to give my report to the head of the Agency before I go to school.

It seems forever before I’m falling into bed. The last thing I remember before sleep claims me is staring at the doors to the balcony—securely locked, for what good it will do—and anxiously waiting for the sun to chase away the night.

I wake up as the sun is barely peeking through my bedroom window. I’m glad that no vampires can surprise me now. I clamber out of bed, take another shower, and put on jeans and a red cotton top over a long-sleeved gray one. I pull my hair back into a French braid.

Grabbing my hoodie and messenger bag, I head into the living room. Rachel arches an eyebrow at me in disapproval.

“Why aren’t you wearing your suit?” she asks. “You knew the director wanted you to report on the Valentines this morning.”

I shrug. No harm in reminding him how young I am. “I am
not
wearing a suit to school.”

“We could stop back by here after the meeting so you could change.”

“I don’t want to take the time. I’m going to be late enough as it is.” I don’t mind skipping history class. But there’s no way I’m missing my defense class. I have some pent-up frustration I’m desperate to release since Victor’s visit. Besides, Michael’s in that class, and I’m anxious to see him. I don’t know that I’ve ever missed him so much.

“At least leave the hoodie in the car,” Rachel orders.

“No problem.”

When we get downstairs, a black sedan is waiting for us.

“Morning, sunshine,” Jeff, the driver, says. He serves as our bodyguard whenever Rachel or I move about the city on official Agency business. He’s wearing a suit and sunglasses. His strong jaw tells me he’s taken more than his fair share of punches. His steady hands tell me he can place a bullet anywhere I care to point.

At first I think he’s talking to me, but then I notice Rachel’s blush.

“Jeff,” she says succinctly.

Whoa! What is this?

He opens the rear door. Rachel climbs in. Jeff winks at me. Now I’m wondering whether it was more than vamp abductions that kept Rachel out all night. I slide onto the seat. He slams the door shut.

“What’s with you and Jeff?” I ask quickly before he gets in behind the wheel.

Rachel gives me a stern stare and then turns her attention to some papers. Maybe I’ll ask Jeff later.

We head downtown. Once we pass the Works, we take a sharp right and head toward the government district. Street after street is filled with apartment towers: forty-story buildings where the middle and upper classes, both relative terms now, live.

As we drive farther into the government area, the buildings get taller, shinier, until the one at its heart looks like a giant crystal cigarette. Windows all around reflect the sun back down on us. We park in the multistory garage.

“Showtime,” Rachel says.

In the director’s office a floor-to-ceiling window makes up the entire wall behind his desk. From this height I can see a portion of the high barricade that encircles all of Denver. Guard towers stretch above it periodically, each one with spotlights and soldiers armed with flamethrowers—terrifying weapons that deliver liquid hell to any vampire reckless enough to scale the wall.

Rachel is beside me as we take our seats opposite the director’s imposing desk.

“Miss Montgomery,” Clive, the director of the Agency, begins. His white hair looks as though he’s plowed his fingers through it a hundred times, and his slight frame doesn’t seem capable of supporting the weight of responsibility he carries, but I learned early on not to underestimate him. He’s protective of the citizens. “How was your meeting with Lord Valentine last night?”

Okay. Here I go. My first official report. I give as accurate an accounting of the meeting as I can.

Unfortunately, Clive is less than impressed with the evening’s results. “You have to convince him that he needs less blood, that these abductions are his fault, that he needs to get his damn bloodsuckers out of our city! That’s your
job;
that’s what your parents did. We had a blood surplus for the first time ever while your parents were delegates. Since their deaths, we’ve lost it all.”

And what of my loss?

“Clive,” Rachel says quietly, “it was her first time.”

“I knew she wasn’t ready,” he huffs.

“I am ready,” I announce, surprising not only Rachel and Clive with my outburst but myself. I remember what Victor told me. “I’ll be more forceful next time.”

Clive leans back in his chair, studying me, then looks contrite. “I’m sorry, Dawn. I know Valentine is not easy to deal with. I can never figure out what games he’s playing. The Valentines were one of the most vicious families during the war. That’s why they have so much power now. It’s the reason they were given Denver as their territory.”

I know that Denver is strategically located and an incredibly valuable city. Only twenty walled cities remain in the United States, and ours connects the five in the West with the other fourteen to the east. If we’re ever taken over by vampires, then the country would be split in half. The two closest cities, Salt Lake City and Wichita, aren’t within a daylight’s ride of each other. No way to send reinforcements during a fight or flee to safety elsewhere. If we fall, the rest will follow.

“You know what they called Lord Murdoch Valentine during the war, right?” Clive asks.

“The Bloody Valentine,” I say.

“And for good reason. Just be careful out there. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Clive was the second person to see the burned carriage that held my parents on the road. He left his footprints in their blood and he can’t wash it off.

“Overall you did a good job for your first time solo. Your parents were wonderful people. They would be proud of you.”

“Would they?” I ask, and Rachel’s eyes go wide.

Clive hesitates, but knows I’m speaking out of frustration. “That’ll be all.”

Rachel and I step into the elevator. I’m staring at the numbers, watching them go down. Still, I can feel her gaze boring into me.

“Your parents
would
be proud of you,” she finally says.

“I don’t want to talk about them.”

The rest of the ride down is silent. I didn’t mean to snap at her, but I have some unresolved issues with my parents. Ones that will never be addressed because all I have left of them is a tiny box filled with their ashes, and there aren’t any answers to be found there.

Chapter 9

B
y the time I get to school, the hallways are silent and empty, except for the occasional student heading to the principal’s office. In a way, I’m glad no one is around as I open my locker. Since I became a delegate, it’s been a little weird at school. With my new position came certain perks. I don’t get in trouble for being late to class. I can turn in homework whenever, if at all. The students resent my privileges, and I can’t blame them. But their bitterness adds to the challenges facing me these days, so I wish they wouldn’t take it out on me.

After getting to the gym and changing into my sweats, I am more than ready for a strenuous workout. Vampire Defense is more popularly known as Kick Vamp Ass.

As soon as I walk in, I spot Michael. He’s talking to some other boys, but seems to sense my arrival and turns around. Tearing away from his group, he comes over to me. God, he’s hot. And the way he looks at me makes me glad to be here.

“Hey, you,” he says, hugging me tightly.

“How was your training session last night?” I ask.

“Who cares,” he says, laughing a little. “How was your first night flying solo?”

Okay, until I found out what Victor really is
.

“Fine,” I say.

He waits for me to elaborate. When I don’t, he echoes me, “Fine?”

“Yeah. Fine. Boring, really.”

“You’re in front of
the
head of the Valentine family, by yourself, in the middle of nowhere, negotiating for the lives of everyone in this city, where a single mistake can get you killed—and it’s boring?”

“Well, when you say it like that…”

He hugs me again, taking all the humor out of the situation. “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s all right. I’m just glad you’re okay,” he says.

“Michael…”

“I didn’t sleep at all last night. All I wanted was to see you again. Nothing else mattered.”

I sink into him, want to tell him all that’s happened, but I can’t burden him. “Everything’s fine,” I say. “I won’t see him again for two weeks. Until then, it’s just paperwork.” I’ll discuss things with Rachel and she’ll keep me updated of where things stand with the Agency, but at this point, I’m more of a figurehead—except for my encounters with Valentine.

“Promise?” Michael asks.

“Promise.”

He pulls back and smiles. Maybe we should skip school. Take some time for us. After what I went through last night, I deserve a little spoiling.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.”

I glance over to see Lila Hursch walking toward us. Her red hair is pulled back into a ponytail that swings with her movements. Three words can sum her up:
bitch, bitch
, and
bitch
. I’m surprised she wasn’t standing beside her father while he was ranting at the blood site. She’s Daddy’s little darling. Whenever she gets in trouble, his money and influence bail her out. She hates me because I barter with vampires. Even though I’m doing it to protect her neck, she doesn’t care. Besides, she’s been after Michael for some time now. It’s no big secret.

“There’s no kissing allowed at school,” she says, stopping in front of us, hands on her hips.

“Dawn was just telling me about her visit to Valentine,” Michael says, trying to keep things cordial.

“Yeah, so how’d that go?” she asks.

“Top secret. You’ll have to wait until my report is released to the press,” I tell her.

“Daddy can get it. He should be the delegate, not you.”

“Your father believes we should stop giving blood to the vampires.”

“Don’t have a problem with that,” she says smugly.

“You don’t get it. It would provoke them into attacking us to get what they need,” I tell her.

“We’d destroy them during the day, when they’re sleeping.”

Frustration causes me to grit my teeth. “You really need to pay more attention in history class. We tried that, remember? It cost us thirty years and a few billion people. If we couldn’t do it then, we sure as hell can’t do it now.”

“Coward,” she spits out.

“Hey,” Michael interjects sternly. “Dawn’s the bravest person I know.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been so touched by Michael’s words. I wrap my hand around his and squeeze. He squeezes back.

“Maybe we should take a field trip beyond the wall sometime; let her prove it,” Lila says.

“That’s not going to happen,” I tell her. Lila knows the rules as well as I do—the government thinks anyone underage is too immature, too willing to get turned by vampires, to allow them outside at night. But that doesn’t stop teens from wall-walking. The wall surrounding Denver is so large that while there are patrols, not every area can be scrutinized. Kids sneak out there and scour the wall, looking for ways out of the city. Not many people find one, because the wall is sealed pretty tight. Which is good, because a spot to get through works both ways—if kids can get out, vamps can get in.

But I wouldn’t put it past Lila to wall-walk, to have the mistaken impression that it would make her appear tough instead of reckless. Even now fury burns in her eyes. She can’t stand the fact that I’m the exception to the under-twenty-one rule.

“You’re not the boss of us,” she says.

“Real mature. You’re definitely ready to go out of the city on your own.”

“I can handle myself better than you.”

And before I know what’s happening, she takes me down. My head and hips slam against the wooden floor, the air in my lungs rushing out all at once. Straddling me, she pulls a fist back.

I let her throw the punch, knowing it’s going to be weak. I grab her wrist with both my hands before it connects, and in the blink of an eye, I roll her over. I take a deep breath to get my air back and watch her struggle against my grip.

I smack the side of her face. The crack is followed by
oohs
from our gathering audience.

“Give up?” I ask, half question, half demand.

“Not as long as you breathe.”

I’m about to hit her again, but she looks so pathetic squirming on the floor that I hesitate. Big mistake. She wiggles out from beneath me, kicking me in the gut along the way.

When we stand up, the students surrounding us chant our names. I can’t tell who they’re rooting for the loudest.

Lila comes after me with the same blind rage her father blasts when he’s preaching his antivampire propaganda, even screaming a little as she charges. I use her fury against her, easily throwing her onto her back with a simple move that Jeff taught me. She lands with a satisfying thud.

Suddenly a strong hand clamps onto my arm and I’m yanked away. Mr. Timmons, the head defense coach, is holding me. His assistant, Ms. Richards, is stopping Lila from lunging at me. I take pride knowing the bigger teacher immediately moved to restrain me, not Lila.