Twilight Seeker: Daybreaker #1

by DaCosta, Pippa

  I inched closer. His skin had a caramel glow, darkened by the spluttering lamps. As I drew closer to the bed, his breath stuttered and so did my steps. Not dead, then. That was good, wasn’t it? From the glisten on his skin, he certainly didn’t look well.

  An elaborate cane caught my eye. It rested against the bedside table. I’d seen it on the platform, in the hands of Just Jack.

  He turned his head.

  Hazel eyes blinked.

  “Jack?”

  His lashes fluttered, and he blinked again before narrowing his eyes on me, finally seeing. Wherever he’d been inside his head, it hadn’t been inside this room. He looked through me, frowning. “Miss Aris?” His hoarse voice cracked.

  “Are you sick, sir?”

  He swallowed. His throat moved, lips parted. All those things seemed drawn out, as though they took considerable conscious thought.

  “I’m fine.” He got a hand under him and gingerly levered himself upright.

  He didn’t sound fine. He didn’t look fine either.

  “We have healers on staff—” I cut off and quickly turned away as he brought his legs around and propped all of his naked self on the edge of the bed. I’d seen enough to know my brain and body wanted to see a whole lot more. “Do you need their assistance?” Lusting after a sick man was a new low, even for me.

  “I said I’m fine,” he said, alert enough to sound annoyed. “Why are you in my room, Lynher?”

  I let the name slide, thoughts reeling. Was this man Ghost? He didn’t seem dangerous, the opposite in fact. My instincts wanted to help, and they were rarely wrong, but what if he was a mass murderer? Gods and spices, I’d eyed him up like he was my own personal feast.

  “There was a… a report of a disturbance outside this room.” I cleared my throat. “I was concerned about the occupant.”

  All lies. If the station was right and Jack was Ghost, I needed to rethink everything he’d said to me and all the moments we’d met. This man was trying very hard to be a nobody and wore the perfect camouflage. First, he appeared human but wasn’t. Second, he and the Felipe staying in the suite had fooled everyone, including me. If this man was the real Ghost, I could use that.

  The bed creaked. “As you can see, everything is well.” His voice moved around the room. Clothing rustled.

  I stared at the closed door, resisting a powerful urge to turn and see those unique tattoos again. I’d heard nothing of Ghost being marked in such a way, but what did anyone know of him? Just his reputation. Nobody had known what he looked like—until now. I knew, and it was worse than anyone had thought, because he looked normal.

  The man behind me was a human butcher. He controlled swathes of vampires across the lands, killing for his queen, tearing down humans like they were no more troublesome than wheat in a field, harvesting children for bloodfarms, and cutting out their tongues so he didn’t have to hear them cry.

  I could not afford to let this creature take me.

  I was better than that.

  “Was there anything else?” he asked.

  I blinked and found him standing to my right. He’d thrown on a shirt and pants. Scruffy hair framed his handsome face, and his eyes were still glassy from sleep or whatever I’d walked in on. The little unassuming smile completed the harmless appearance. I’d faced demons bristling with claws and horns and fangs, vampires turned rabid on bloodlust, but I’d never looked into the eyes of true evil before now. Worse, his eyes were charming, just like the rest of him.

  “Nothing else.” I headed for the door.

  “Lynher?”

  “My name is Miss Aris, sir. Don’t forget it.” I was outside in a few strides and pulled the door closed with a hard thwunk.

  Anger fueled my strides. I was angry that I hadn’t seen it sooner, angry that I’d looked at him and liked him. Felipe Berger had had me on my knees, with his power probing my mind, and I would have done more to protect my staff, might have to if I wanted to save the children on that train, and he wasn’t even Ghost; he was just a vampire general, a grunt, albeit a powerful one. They’d both played me.

  But I knew the truth. The station had shown me. I still had power here, and I could still save lives.

  A demon poofed into the hallway to the squeals of nearby residents. The pop of air pressure and scattering of sparks wasn’t subtle, but neither was the demon the display belonged to. As noncorporeal travel was forbidden inside my walls and I wasn’t having the best night so far, I plucked a throwing knife from its hidden place against my lower back and flung it true, right between the demon’s mismatched eyes—one blue, one green. Unfortunately, not only did the demon know to expect a blade, but he also knew it was my opening gambit. He snatched the small knife out of its spin, as easy as picking a flower from between the platform cracks, locked his gaze on mine, winked, and poofed out again.

  I whirled, my second blade free, plunged my hand into the gathering cloud of sparks, grabbed his now-corporeal throat, and shoved him against the hallway wall.

  His sparks rained around us, bouncing off his bare shoulders, scruffy hair, and horns. He’d tucked his wings behind an illusion, but being shoved against a wall still wasn’t a comfortable way to start his evening.

  “Rafe,” I greeted. “There are rules.”

  “Darling, you know I live to break them,” he purred, or rumbled, or whatever the sound was that demons made, especially this demon. He had a voice made of liquid chocolate. It flowed and spilled and found all the little crevices to worm its way inside. “Hurt me some more, Miss Aris… exactly how you know I like it.”

  A hard touch pressed against my leg, beneath my dress, and snaked its way higher, looping around my thigh.

  I pressed into Rafe, holding the small knife against his neck. He tilted his head back, allowing me access. Like a vampire’s invading charm, Rafe’s brand of magic tried to coil around me and lure me into his embrace. I wasn’t immune, but I recognized the signs. I could mostly shrug off his incubi allure, and he knew it, which was why his tail was taking liberties when the rest of him could not. “Quit it or I cut it off.”

  We’d attracted a crowd, and in games like these, I had to win. Rafe knew that too. Some days, he knew too much.

  His tail unraveled from my leg while the incubus’s two-tone eyes read the intent on my face, his smile growing with every second I kept him pinned. “I submit in every way. Will you punish me…?” he purred and layered on the charm. “Please?” He said it loud enough so that everyone heard. His submission was bullshit. He lied like he breathed. But only the station regulars knew that. To these onlookers, I’d subdued a naughty demon, repairing the equilibrium.

  With a flick of his wrist, he produced a black origami swan and offered it to me. He liked to craft whimsies out of paper and leave them all over the station—reminders of how he was never far away.

  Shoving off him, I slotted my knife home and held out my hand for its twin. He rolled his pretty eyes, hoping I’d forgotten he’d taken it, and then magicked it out of thin air with another hand flick.

  “The ambassador has summoned me,” he said, handing out the blade while tucking the swan back into his pocket.

  I took the blade, ignoring his smug look. “Then go to her.”

  Rafe was Lilith’s lapdog, assistant, pet, soldier, her everything and nothing, as far as I could tell. When she called, he appeared and made a pest of himself.

  The crowd dispersed now that the fun was over. Rafe watched them go while he straightened his waistcoat. He wore nothing underneath the waistcoat and black suede pants, preferring to advertise every lean inch he had on offer. Like all incubi, he changed his appearance to suit the admiration of those looking his way. Whatever their sexual whims, he made it happen, but now he wore the resting form he preferred, at least around me. Probably because he knew I preferred it too. Without his horns, two backward-pointing prongs of black keratin, he might have passed for a ridiculously attractive mid-twenties human male. He wasn’t any of those things, besi
des male.

  “Our lady thought you might need my assistance.”

  Lilith thought I needed him? I laughed him off and started back toward the heart of the station. Rafe trailed behind, his tail menacing any passerby—male, female, or non-gender, he didn’t care so long as he got a feel in.

  “Stop it,” I hissed.

  The last thing I needed was Rafe thrown in the mix. He was like a badly behaved ferret that got into everything, leaving chaos behind. Lilith seemed convinced of his uses. I’d never seen any, beyond his ability to distract, like he was distracting me now.

  “You are tense this evening.” He laughed, and that laugh plugged into all the feminine parts of my brain, switching them to on. “I have a remedy for that, you know.”

  “I don’t want your remedy, or you, for that matter. If you could go make yourself useful somewhere else, that’d be grand. I have enough to deal with.”

  “Like Ghost?” he asked, eyebrow rising.

  I veered toward an empty room, unlocked the door, and entered. Rafe followed, confidently striding on past. Now that we were alone, his illusion fell away, and he unfurled his wings like shaking out folded drapes. His wings were nothing like Lilith’s. They had the same leathery arches, but his had patterns to catch the light and make them shimmer. His wings were my weakness. He knew that too.

  He spotted the large four-poster bed and turned, lifting a wing out of the way. “Straight to the foreplay. Why Lynher, you minx—”

  I stepped back, pulled the door shut, and snicked the lock, locking him inside, then kept right on walking. Some rooms were magically sealed. This was one of them. He’d have a hard time translocating out of here.

  He’d be fine. Rafe was always fine. I did not have the time or energy to deal with a sexually motivated incubus and everything else.

  Taking a piece of paper and a pencil from my dress, I scribbled Kensey an update and left it under the pitcher, like before, then headed on to find Felipe and continue the dance of death and survival none could admit we were all a part of.

  Chapter 7

  Night

  A woman danced with Ghost. She wasn’t really a woman, and he wasn’t really Ghost, but we were all playing along. The pair swirled and dipped and rose to the music, looking like the perfect couple. Lilith wore the body of a tall, stunning human female, her golden hair pinned back from her face but flowing down her back. Her dress glittered and rippled around her ankles. She looked like an angel, if such a thing existed. Felipe—the vampireguard pretending to be Ghost—was her exquisite opposite.

  He said something, and she laughed, bright and free, presenting a picture postcard of a date. As I watched from the gallery a level above, I couldn’t decide who had snared whom. Both were vicious, cold-blooded killers. Had I still believed Felipe was Ghost, it would have been a close call, but he was likely a general following Ghost’s orders, which put him at the same level as demon kibble compared to Lilith. Right now, she was testing him, putting him at ease, letting him think he led the dance. He had no idea he danced in her web like the fly he was.

  Did Lilith know he wasn’t Ghost? I’d have to meet with her later, right before dawn, to decide how to proceed. Until then, I was grateful for the breathing space her dealing with Felipe gave me. Now, all I had to do was find Jack.

  “Not dancing, Miss Aris?”

  My blood chilled. The smile on my lips was a mask I wore often, but it didn’t feel like enough around Jack, like maybe he could see right under it.

  “I’m sensing some… resistance,” he said, resting his cane against the banister.

  A server passed by. Jack plucked two champagne flutes from the tray and handed one out to me.

  “I really can’t, not while working,” I declined.

  “Well, now here I am, looking like a fool with two glasses of champagne.”

  I took the glass and averted my eyes to the dancing crowd below. The sip turned out to be a gulp. The champagne wasn’t nearly strong enough, so the rest went down far too easily until I’d drained the glass.

  Jack flicked his gaze up. “Do you ever not work, Miss Aris?” he asked. “In the day, perhaps?”

  He’d been watching my throat. “Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me—” I pushed off the banister, heart fluttering like a trapped bird.

  “Miss Aris?”

  I stopped, wore my wooden smile, and turned. “Yes, Jack?”

  He stepped closer and took the empty glass from me, his fingertips brushing mine. It wasn’t right that he should look so… nice. Perhaps this was why they called him Ghost. He blended in, went unnoticed, and anyone who figured out his secret didn’t survive to tell it. But I’d survive him. I had to, for the train’s cargo, for everyone who called this station home, for my brother, for hope in a ruined world.

  “Have I offended you?” he asked, laying on the innocent act so thick it was a miracle he didn’t choke on it.

  Only genocide. “Of course not, sir.”

  “Will you dance with me?” His words surprised him, and he smiled at his foolishness. The server passed by again, taking the empty glasses. He even thanked him, like a gentleman. An act like his could break a thousand hearts. “I’m leaving soon and I don’t know when—if I’ll return,” he said, his attention back on me. “It would be my pleasure.” He offered me his hand.

  So honest, like he truly cared, but a creature like him had no soul. He didn’t know how to care for anything other than his queen. Even his love for her was fake, built into his design. For some reason, my gaze found his cane and its beautiful carving.

  “I can dance without it, for a while,” he explained, assuming I was concerned for him. “So, shall we dance?”

  I might have, if the station hadn’t shown me his ugliness. “No, sir. We shall not.”

  I couldn’t. I couldn’t hold his hand or stand close to him and dance and smile and pretend everything was all right. I wasn’t Lilith. I couldn’t dance with a monster. I dropped my smile. It had been a dead thing on my lips anyway. He saw the horror in my eyes and the disgust in my downturned mouth, and his expression changed too. His smile cracked, as did his gaze, and some of the truth glared through from deep inside. A hungry coldness leaked from inside. It reached for me, made me stagger away, made the mark on my arm sizzle to life. Something old and dark and dangerous inhabited this man, and it had me in its sights.

  A scream shattered the connection.

  More screams rose from the ballroom. Glasses smashed. The smell of burned rubber tainted the air—the smell of demon magic.

  I should have looked, should have dealt with it, but Jack’s coldness had its grip on me, trying to consume me. I’d never felt magic like it, not from Lilith, not even while passing by Room 3B. This thing standing in front of me was more than a vampire, more than all the Dark Ones put together, and he was looking out from behind human eyes, seeing deep into my soul, turning me out, ripping me open.

  Sparks fizzled to my left. “Excuse the interruption.” Rafe inserted himself between Jack and me, breaking the spell. He leaned against the banister and peered down. “But we’re all fucked…”

  Jack withdrew, having the nerve to look stunned, like I had poured ice into his soul. He wobbled against the banister and grabbed for his cane, needing it.

  “Lynher, what do we do?” The incubus turned to me, his two-tone eyes wide. I’d never seen him shocked. Nothing shocked Rafe.

  Jack limped along the gallery, and I let him go, hiding my tremors as I leaned against the rail beside Rafe and tried to make sense of what I saw below. Blood. So much … like a red star had exploded in the center of the dance floor. At its center stood Lilith with not-Ghost sprawled on his back on the floor. The gaping hole in his chest likely had something to do with the heart Lilith was eating out of her clawed hand.

  “Shit. She wasn’t supposed to do that.” It shouldn’t have been possible. The station should have intervened.

  A whistle sounded, and the red-and-black vampireguard poured in from al
l doorways. Lilith dropped all pretense of being human and shifted to an eight-foot-tall, black-skinned demon with eyes of fire and wings dipped in lava. She whirled on the spot, throwing open her enormous wings, and screamed. The noise tore through the air like a physical wave. The station’s wall of windows exploded, raining glass.

  I clamped my hands over my ears but heard Rafe say, “Oh, fuck no.” His arms looped around my waist. He flung open his wings and threw them around me, muffling Lilith’s scream.

  Air pressure rushed outward. My ears popped and my lungs ached and just as my thoughts had caught up with what Rafe was doing, he let me go.

  I shoved at his chest, needing space, and instinctively freed my knives. “Stay back!”

  The mark on my wrist burned brighter. A warning, a protection.

  Rafe bared his teeth. “Try a thank you, Lynher.” He flicked his wings out, realigning them and drawing my eye to our silent surroundings.

  Trees. Bushes. All painted in shades of black.

  No, no, no…

  The breeze on my tongue tasted like metal and death.

  The night sky hung over us, its stars winking.

  We were outside the station. Beyond the white line.

  “Take me back.” Cold and fear robbed me of all sense of safety and warmth.

  “Back in there?” He flicked a thumb over his shoulder toward the station. “Lilith is about to remind those vampricks why they don’t mess with demons, and she wants you out of the way. You’re staying here.”

  I bolted for the brush behind him, dodging his attempt to grab me, and plowed into the bushes.

  Branches clawed at my face and pulled at my dress. I had to get back. I couldn’t be outside the station. I couldn’t be beyond the white line. The station needed me. My friends, my family. The vampireguard would come. They’d hurt them for Lilith’s actions. I had to get back there to stop it.