by J. N. Baker
Last Light
Until Dawn, Book 1
J.N. Baker
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by J. N. Baker
Cover Design by Covers by Combs
Edited by Tina Winograd and Shannon Page
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For my husband, Ben.
Thank you for always believing in my wild—and often twisted—imagination.
I love you.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Coming Soon
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Hell. As I pried my sword from his lifeless body, I was sure that’s where I’d be going; that was, if I could actually die.
It wasn’t the first time I’d killed a man and, God help me, it certainly wouldn’t be the last. After all, that was what I was created for—not that I had a choice in the matter. The way I saw it, everyone had a purpose and mine was simple: kill.
“That’s got to be a record,” I mumbled, shoving the prehistoric phone into my pocket. Not even noon and I already had a dead guy on my hands. It was going to be a long day.
I’d lost count of the number of lives I’d taken over the years. And, to be honest, I didn’t want to know. It was just easier that way. I wasn’t proud of the monster I’d become. The nearly six years since the “accident” felt like a lifetime—but that was survival. This was different.
This was war.
I crouched beside my would-be assassin in the dark, empty parking garage, the smell of his blood overwhelming my senses. He looked young, no more than twenty-two, twenty-three at most. He never would’ve gone down that easily if he’d already been turned.
No, he was still human.
Probably a new pawn in the general’s game, trying to make some extra cash to support his own family. It was amazing what people would do for an extra buck; the going rate for a soul was up to a quarter million dollars. A fleeting moment of monetary bliss in exchange for eternal damnation? Sure, why the hell not. Greedy bastards.
Right, like I really had any room to talk—I’d be burning right there with them.
Fishing through his pockets, I pulled out a leather wallet and flipped it open. Private Scott Richards, United States Army, Active Duty.
I quickly emptied the contents of the wallet into my bag. Credit cards, ID, personal photos. He didn’t even have the good sense to carry fakes. “Nice work,” I muttered. “The general would be so proud.”
The general, or Baldric, was the first vampire to ever walk the face of the earth, created by the Devil himself. William had said Baldric was once a creature of high honor. In fact, he was one of the original seven Chosen. Oh, how the mighty could fall.
Somewhere along the line, Baldric became filled with greed, seeking a power unimaginable and turning against our kind. He was so hell-bent on taking over the world that he sold his own soul just to attain it. Funny, I didn’t think monsters like us had souls to give. Learned something new every day.
He’d spent the last thousand years lurking in the shadows, building his army, waiting for just the right moment to strike. That moment was upon us.
Over the past decade, Baldric had moved his way up the ranks in the United States Army and was now one of the highest-ranking generals in the country. This gave him access to the best fighters our nation had to offer from all branches of the military—a good chunk of which now worked for him. There was even a rumor he had the FBI in his back pocket. He whispered promises of money, power, and “eternal youth.” All they had to do was help him take over the world.
I stood and tossed the worn leather onto the soldier’s chest. To the average person, it’d look like a mugging gone wrong. I wanted to feel bad for the guy—really, I did—and a long time ago I might have. But each year that slipped by stole a little more of my humanity. I guess immortality made you hard. I missed it—feeling. But it was for the best. Couldn’t go around crying over spilled milk for the next who knew how many years. Milk, blood—whatever.
When William found me, he told me, “Forever is a long time to live in darkness.” I didn’t understand what he meant then, but I did now. I pitied that man. If six years felt like a lifetime, how would a thousand feel? Maybe I’d be unfortunate enough to find out; that was if the world didn’t end by then. That was a big “if.”
“Are you coming out, or are you going to keep hiding in the shadows like a damn coward?” I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on the dead soldier.
Footsteps started at the back of the parking garage and a chill raced down my spine. I pushed away the unwanted memories as I turned to face the man, his heavy claps echoing against brick walls. “Bravo, warrior, bravo! I’m impressed.”
As he stepped closer, I took in his aged face. His leathery skin was creased and discolored, his head a mat of salt-and-pepper hairs. He was probably in his late fifties, physically that was. I wrinkled my nose. He smelled of bad BO, cigarettes, and blood. That was the thing about vamps: the older they got, the more metallic they smelled. Younger vamps were the tricky ones, they hardly had any scent at all.
I kept one eye on the dagger gripped firmly in his hand. He knew how to use it. He just wouldn’t get the chance.
“Roland,” I sneered. “I’m shocked to see you’re still alive. I was sure Baldric would’ve had you killed after our last meeting.”
Roland chuckled as he stepped over the soldier’s corpse. “It seems you’ve come outta hidin’, princess. How long’s it been now…seven, eight, months?” he asked, his thick accent making him sound like a fang-faced pirate. He licked his lips as he took me in.
“Not long enough, bloodsucker,” I spat.
“Oh, come now. You haven’t missed me even a little? You’re gonna hurt my feelin’s, pet. Well, I’ve missed you…more than you could possibly imagine. You know, it don’t cease to amaze me how much you look like her.” He said the word with such reverence that it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He studied my face for a moment. “You really got no idea, do you?” Roland threw his head back, erupting in laughter. “Well, isn’t this rich. Is your precious master keepin’ things from you, pet?”
“Look like who?” I demanded, swallowing my anger. Anger was about the only emotion that came easily to the Chosen. I had to stay focused. Losing focus meant death, and I was sure as hell not about to give Roland, of all vamps, the satisfaction of killing one of the Chosen.
We’d been called several different things over the years, but God’s warriors, or the Chosen, seemed to be how most people referred to us. And by “most people,” I mean the few who knew of our existence. We were said to have been angels sen
t to Earth to protect it from the evils of darkness.
Funny, I didn’t feel very angelic as I fantasized about cutting off Roland’s head.
“Never you mind, warrior. All you need to know is that I’ve told the general all about you after our last meetin’ and he’s quite excited to meet you. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see that you’re so…” Roland smirked, looking me over with his one good eye, “mature.”
“Careful. That’s how you lost the other one,” I reminded him, admiring the tattered eye patch strapped to the side of his face. I took pride in my work. Consider it a lesson in sexual harassment. A little medieval, perhaps, but he learned, right? Well, maybe he hadn’t, but that was beside the point.
“Play nice, kitten,” my patchy foe warned as he retreated a step, shifting his small blade from one hand to the other.
“Like it?” he asked as he noticed my eyes following the dagger’s movement. He held it up, running his finger along the dull edge. There was some sort of black gunk at the tip like it hadn’t been cleaned in decades. “I brought this one special, just for you.”
“What? Does it have superpowers?” I retorted. “Because that’s the only way you’d stand a chance against me.”
“Oh, it’ll do,” Roland purred.
He circled me, stalking his prey. He couldn’t fool me. I saw the fear in his eye, the beads of sweat rolling off his forehead. He wasn’t just scared, no, he was terrified, and rightfully so. He might’ve had centuries on me, but one simple vamp was no match for one of the Chosen.
As much as he wanted me to believe he was a threat, we both knew it was a far cry from the truth. It wasn’t a question of if I could kill him. I could and with very little effort. I’d already played out in my head each way it could be done. Roland knew it too, maintaining five feet of distance between us. As if that were enough. Still, I had the smallest amount of respect for him, showing up to a fight he knew he’d never win.
“You forget that I know all about you, warrior. I know what’s goin’ on in that head of yours.” He flashed a yellowed smile. “Don’t go gettin’ me wrong, the life of a vampire is rather…remarkable. There’s nothin’ quite like sinkin’ your teeth into a warm body. But still, I can’t deny I’m a bit jealous of your kind…all that power. It must be quite overwhelmin’, always being two steps ahead of everyone else. Hell, you probably already think you know how this little conversation is gonna end, don’t you?”
“Not well for you,” I hissed.
Roland was right, he did know all about our kind. After all, his precious leader was one of us. He probably knew more about me than I knew myself. The thought alone made me sick. Roland was right about one other thing too: I did know all the ways our conversation could end. Personally, I liked the one where I removed his remaining eye before taking off his head with his own dagger.
The way I saw it, we were nothing more than killers. Of course, we weren’t nearly as bad as Baldric and his bloodthirsty followers, but we were killers, nonetheless. We were created to be the ultimate predators, and that we were. We were faster and stronger than any mere human, with heightened senses like no other creature, not even the vamps. The only thing stronger than us was Baldric.
“How many have you killed now in the name of the ‘Lord’?” Roland continued. “A hundred? Two hundred? A thousand? Do you lay that fine ass body of yours in bed at night and wonder if you’re on the right side? Or have you already become the same cold, emotionless murderer that your predecessors were?”
I glowered over my shoulder as he paced behind me. “Fuck you.”
Roland chuckled. “It might be too late for them, but there’s still time to redeem yourself, warrior. The general wants to work together to create a new world—a better world. He’s offerin’ his hand to you to make you one of his own. He gives his word that you’ll be kept safe in the dark times to come. This is a great honor, pet. With the future king at your side, you’ll be invincible. Baldric has gone some time without a queen. A crown would suit you.”
“Never,” I snarled.
I watched as he struggled to hide his growing frustration. William said Roland had quite the temper. I smiled. I knew anger—I could work with anger.
“What did you think was going to happen here, bloodsucker? Did you honestly think I was just going to lay down my weapon and go with you? That you were just going to take my hand and skip me right to Baldric? How stupid could you possibly be? I mean, really? Did they take your damn brain in exchange for those fangs you’ve got?”
Roland turned five shades of red. “You’re lucky I’ve got specific orders not to kill you,” he spat.
“Ha. As if you could.”
“You stupid bitch!” he roared, waving the tip of his dagger in my direction. “Let me make this very clear. The general is a powerful man and he gets exactly what he wants. If he wants you, he will have you. One way or another. And I’m gonna be the one to bring you to him.”
“It’s nice to see that Baldric has put your skills to good use. A thousand years of servitude and he finally promoted you to errand boy.” I paused, watching the anger wash over him. “Now, be a good boy and go tell your master that he can fuck himself.”
Blinded with rage, Roland growled and lunged toward me, fangs extended.
Fear. What did it feel like? I’d already forgotten.
The weight of his body hurled me into the brick wall behind me. Blood trickled down my throat as the tip of his dagger pierced the surface of my skin. Roland’s eye bulged as I shoved my blade farther into his chest.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I ripped the sword from his body and he doubled over, collapsing to his hands and knees, gasping for air. I raised my sword for the kill.
“Leave him,” a voice commanded.
William. I couldn’t see him, but I’d know that voice anywhere.
“He’s still alive,” I hissed, pressing the edge of my blade firmly against the back of Roland’s neck. William knew as well as I that the vamps could heal. Of course, they couldn’t heal nearly as fast as we could, but they could heal, nonetheless. There was only one sure way to kill a vampire: decapitation. My fingers tightened around the sword’s hilt.
“I said leave him. The damage is done. He is no longer a threat to us. Now, get out of here before reinforcements arrive.”
Whether I agreed or not, it didn’t matter. William would accept nothing short of complete obedience. I grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled Roland’s face to mine. “You tell your ‘king’ that I’m coming for him. I will kill him.” I dropped him back to the asphalt, sheathing my sword before shoving it back into the empty guitar case.
Wiping the blood from my hands, I fled the dark parking garage without looking back. It already smelled like death, something I’d grown accustomed to.
The early afternoon light slapped my face as I stepped out of the small downtown parking garage, shielding my eyes with a pair of dark sunglasses. Fighting vampires in the bright light of day? Buffy would’ve been horrified, and rightfully so. Life would have been a hell of a lot easier if the bloodsuckers only went bump in the night like all the stories said they were supposed to. But I’d come to learn life was anything but easy.
I scanned the sidewalk. The overpopulated city of Santa Cruz was less crowded than usual. Perhaps the state of the world had finally driven people to hide away in their homes, staring at the TV, waiting for more bad news.
It started a month ago with the deadly ice storms in Russia and no one batted an eye. Then it was the earthquakes in China followed by mass flooding that killed millions. It made the news and the U.S. sent support. Not long after China, Japan was hit with its own earthquake, sending a tsunami so powerful, it wiped the country off the map—literally—along with most of Korea. Search and rescue found few survivors. People started to talk.
Then a series of undersea landslides triggered a tsunami in the Indian Ocean that dwarfed the one from the early 2000s. The massive wave devastated southern India, Thai
land, Cambodia, and Vietnam and completely obliterated island countries from Sri Lanka all the way to the Philippines. People said it was a bad time to be an island while canceling their vacations and sending hopes and prayers. A few days later, a seemingly small earthquake in Italy set off both Mount Etna and Mount Vesuvius with such force that the “boot” looked more like a sandal. It started making people uncomfortable.
A week after that, an entire string of volcanoes in South America went off like dominoes, setting the western and southern countries on fire—what was left of them. It was getting closer to home and people were feeling the heat. And then, just a few days ago, a tsunami came downward from the north Atlantic and wiped out the Caribbean. All of it, gone. And, just like that, people couldn’t help but wonder—were we next?
And yet life went on. People drove to work, traveled, took their kids to school. Families went to the beach, splashing and laughing as they played in the waves. Happy couples walked hand in hand through downtown, shopping and sharing kisses. Kids ran down the boardwalk, ducking into the popular dome-shaped arcade for a round of pirate putt-putt. The world kept turning because it wasn’t their problem—yet.
But all those happy people couldn’t fool me. I could see it in their eyes—the fear was starting to spread. It seemed like, deep down, everyone was afraid to die.
Funny, I had quite the opposite fear.
After the destruction of the Caribbean, the general had convinced governors in a number of heavily populated states to respond by calling in the National Guard as a precaution as well as to help “keep the peace.” After all, fear had the ability to make people do crazy things. Meanwhile, Uncle Sam told us to go about our daily business, assuring us that there was no need to panic. Yeah, because a soldier on every street corner really eased the nerves.
