Darklight

by Forrest, Bella

  “I abandoned you that day. And when I heard Gina over the comm, saying you’d been taken, that a vampire had attacked you, that same exact feeling punched me right in the gut,” Zach whispered. He used the butts of his palms to rub hastily at his eyes. “I just thought, Damn, Zach, you lost her again. You’re a terrible brother.”

  My lip kept quivering no matter how hard I pursed or rubbed my lips with my fingers. It wasn’t that I didn’t like emotions or people showing them. I just hated that rising discomfort in my chest immediately before my eyes welled with tears, that pressure that pushed the air out of my lungs. I hated seeing my brother experience it, too. For me, sometimes watching someone I loved feel emotional pain hurt more than experiencing it myself.

  “Well, you didn’t lose me. And you didn’t do anything wrong. You were a kid and you got excited to see your friends. You are not a terrible brother. I couldn’t ask for a better brother,” I assured him. I squeezed his arm again, sniffed, and wiped at the corners of my eyes. “I’m right here. I’m okay. I promise.”

  “My friends, job, possessions, whatever—they’ll never be more important than you.” Zach turned, and his bloodshot eyes stared directly into mine. “Ever. I just wanted you to know that. To hear that.” He cleared his throat of phlegm and emotion. He pushed some wavy hair out of his face.

  “I hear you. And same. Ditto. You’re my number one.” I rested my head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around me after rubbing at his eyes one more time.

  I was an incredibly lucky woman.

  “Here comes hell, it’s Z and L,” Zach said quietly through a faint smile. That was the catchphrase our father said regularly when my brother and I entered a room together.

  We sat in silence for several long heartbeats, until he finally exhaled and extended a hand to take my plate. “Gotta head down for work,” he murmured. “I’ll catch you later. Enjoy your free days off. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t in the meantime.” He cast me one last grin before padding out the door.

  I leaned back in bed and let a slow sigh roll out of my chest, then downed the glass of juice and stood on aching legs. Due to the kidnapping, I had at least a week off for “physical and mental recovery.” Bryce had informed me via text the night before. I was worried about how bored I was going to get, waiting for an answer from the Bureau and wondering if or when the vampire would randomly show up again.

  My uniform pants caught my eye, lying folded at the end of my mattress. I reached out to squeeze the pocket and felt the stone, still inside. I was grateful the board hadn’t argued for more proof or outright denied my claim about the existence of the Immortal Plane, as my gut still told me that I definitely needed to give it back to Dorian. He’d handed it to me to be used as proof—but I was sure his eyes had said differently.

  I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the shower, then stared at my swollen eyes in the mirror until it fogged over. The running water sounded like heaven. And it felt even better.

  Steam filled my lungs, thick and warm, like the air of the Immortal Plane. Those dancing golden orbs passed through my mind. There had been something so soothing and beautiful about them. Dorian never told me what those were. He also hadn’t explained the specks burning out on the mountainsides.

  Shampoo dripped down the side of my face. Given how easily Dorian had swayed me to consider his cause, I understood why he’d chosen me. Opportunist. He had been convincing at the time, but time would tell regarding his honesty. I still wasn’t sold. Parts of the whole situation seemed too convenient.

  I sat on a low stool and scrubbed my feet with a loofa. The whole “I’ll find you” thing worried me a little bit. Even if he had told me the truth about his species’ devastation, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t stick his teeth in me given the chance. I didn’t like the idea of Dorian thinking he could find me wherever and whenever he pleased.

  I examined the redbill bruise on my thigh, which slowly but surely was going down, then massaged a twinging muscle in my foot. I needed to get with Bryce and tighten up on my hand-to-hand combat. Or would that be hand-to-fang combat?

  I turned off the water and dried myself. Sweatpants and a T-shirt were my plan for the evening. I dressed and wrapped my damp hair into a bun, then grabbed my phone and sat on the edge of my bed. I started scanning back and forth through the pictures of Dorian, looking for clues to weaknesses I could exploit. His face on the screen looked so different—lighter—than it had on the cliff. Or when he’d had blood on his face. He looks about mid-twenties; how many people has he killed?

  If I feigned compliance with Dorian, I could probably get him to drop his guard a bit more, just in case I needed to use that to my advantage. I reminded myself that his earnestness served as a great disguise. The opportunity he’d nabbed by persuading the family of a Bureau board member to listen to his proposal proved that.

  I closed my eyes and imagined what Dorian had seen when he drank that man’s blood. Rapist. His own sister. Planning murder. My muscles shuddered, and I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake it off. If Dorian only killed evil people, what else had he seen? That was one hell of a burden to carry for sustenance.

  If Dorian had been honest about the duty of his kind, then I had to admit that they’d gotten a tough deal. To be naturally driven to cleanse the world’s evil by poisoning yourself with it? How strange, to consider the words “vampire” and “martyr” in the same sentence.

  It also created an excellent excuse for their behavior, making vampires look like saviors, when historically they were known as the exact opposite.

  I sighed. Just two days prior, I’d hated vampires and was grateful I’d never run into one. I found it hard to swallow that everyone I’d ever known, everything I’d ever been told, could be entirely wrong.

  Is Dorian’s brother somewhere in that mass grave?

  I shook my head and glanced again at the lump in the pocket of my uniform pants.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I went stir-crazy waiting for word from Uncle Alan after just two days, which was longer than I thought I’d make it. I spent more time at the gym than my apartment. Sure, I loved to work out. It helped my nerves and kept me in shape while I was on a short break from missions. But I was also paranoid about being alone. I had no idea when Dorian planned to show up. He could decide to come early, for all I knew.

  I called Alan every day for updates. His voice was always heavy, exhausted. He rarely had uplifting or exciting feedback. Through his drowsy words, he described the board’s constant bickering, endless debates, and emotional arguments. He wasn’t the only one on the board who’d been personally affected by vampire violence. Many of them were ex-ground soldiers, or had friends and family who were. This was a big deal for all of them. It was a big deal, period.

  My uncle promised he’d visit me in person as soon as the board came to some kind of agreement. I wasn’t going to hold my breath, but the uncertainty was burning a hole in my stomach.

  Gina made a point to take me out for breakfast a few times over the following days to take my mind off things. We never talked about my kidnapping. Any time I mentioned the word “vampire,” her eyes glazed over, like she couldn’t connect the word to the object. That girl was tough as nails, but her inability to save me back at the church visibly weighed on her. So, we’d eat croissants, drink coffee, and I’d retell jokes from when we lived together during training. Zach kept an eye on her—I made sure of it.

  It was so hard to sleep. Most nights, I’d jolt from a dead, dreamless sleep, terrified. Like I was falling, being watched, and soaring through the air at insane speeds, all at the same time. Naps between workouts filled in for the sleeplessness, but not knowing when the vampire was going to show up again haunted me.

  * * *

  My mom was filling a flask of water in the kitchen when I walked in to make another piece of toast one morning, nine days after my testimony. She told me that Dad had gone downstairs to the headquarters meeting rooms. She would join him sho
rtly. Zach and Gina had just left.

  I seized the chance to ask a question. “Do you know of any civilian weapons that have an effect on vampires?”

  She eyed me, and her perfectly arched, dark eyebrows rose slightly over her eyes, as they did when she was fighting off concern. My mother had a beautifully intense, angular face and striking elflike features. I’d gotten more of my dad’s babyface. “From what I’ve seen, mace momentarily disoriented them,” she replied. “But that’s about it.”

  “Hmm.” I recalled a conversation I’d had with Zach a while back. He’d stashed an extra can in his room a year or so ago. It probably hadn’t expired yet.

  My mother didn’t ask any questions immediately. But I could see the worry pulling down the corners of her lips, the strongest wrinkle in her forehead creasing. My mother had always been the worrier of the family, a trait I had inherited a bit of, too. In this case, though, she definitely had a valid reason to be concerned. The day Dorian kidnapped me had probably given her an ulcer.

  “You’re going to look out for yourself, right?” she finally asked, her anxiety pushing words from her throat.

  “Absolutely,” I replied, giving her an assuring smile and a shake of my head.

  A knock sounded from the door. I rushed to swing it open.

  Uncle Alan greeted me, leaning a little heavier on his cane than usual. Lack of sleep hung below his hazel eyes. Anticipation coursed through me.

  “Alan! You’ve finally made it.” My mother hurried up behind me to greet him. “Oh, I wish I could stay. Lyra will have to fill me in when I get back, unless you stay late. I have to rush down for my meeting now. Things have been picking up—as you know.”

  “No problem, Miriam.” He sighed. “She or I will fill you in.”

  As my mother headed out, I offered him a drink, and after I poured him a glass of water, we made our way to the living room. He leaned his cane and briefcase against an armchair and sank into it.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, clearly fatigued.

  “I’m fine. Been exercising a lot these past days,” I said, and offered a smile from the couch. He returned it.

  He took a sip of water and leaned back. “Where do you want to start?”

  I paused to prioritize my questions. “Did the Bureau actually breach the Immortal Plane?” I asked. That one had been bugging me for too long.

  “Yes.”

  My stomach twisted. That explained the lack of surprise I’d seen in the room, when I had described a whole different world.

  “We attempted to, at least. Five years ago. Unfortunately, none of the soldiers survived. This was at the peak of vampire attacks, and we hoped to learn everything we could about them to stop the murders. We wanted to get to the source and stop them there to protect our people.”

  I leaned forward slightly in my chair. “How did they do it?”

  “The Bureau’s director of strategy at the time put a captured vampire through interrogation for many, many years. That’s when we learned about a gateway to another realm, where the vampires originated.”

  My voice flattened. “They tortured the vampire?” I doubt he started chatting about the Immortal Plane over brunch. It confirmed what Dorian had told me.

  “Yes,” my uncle replied. “In fact, most vampires caught by the Bureau over the years were interrogated—but unsuccessfully. Vampires are remarkably stubborn. All refused to say a word about their origin, even after torture, so they were killed soon after their capture. But the director kept one vampire alive, for an experiment of prolonged interrogation, to see if that would finally crack him. It culminated in the director making an executive decision to authorize a mission, in which soldiers forced the vampire to ‘straddle realms’ while in an aircraft. The vampire opposed the idea; he went on about the damage it could cause, but the soldiers assumed he was bluffing. They had to be very persuasive.”

  I swallowed.

  “There were soldiers on the ground at the time of the event. They said that the aircraft disappeared in a huge burst of light, and then the sky spit them out. Pieces of aircraft and bodies falling everywhere. Terrible scene. They reported a sound like thunder, and apparently the sky seemed to wave, then went still. The team on the ground was incredibly shaken. Several left the service.” My uncle bent forward and took two gulps of water.

  Thunder—cracking. That’s exactly what it sounded like when we went through the tear.

  “We never got proof of the other realm. It was as if the craft got struck by lightning and shattered. The vampire could very well have lied to lure them into a murder-suicide trap. Soon after that, massive amounts of supernatural energy and redbills began to swarm the area, but that didn't explicitly prove the existence of the ‘other side.’”

  “What did the Bureau do with the director who authorized that? He acted above his command.” If I knew anything about the Bureau, an action like that would be harshly punished. I bit my lip. They aren’t exactly forgiving of liars, either.

  “Obviously, he was fired. The loss of human life alone was beyond reconcilable, setting aside his arrogant disregard for protocol and equipment. The Bureau barred any members from going near the area again.” Uncle Alan eased deeper into the chair and exhaled heavily, his voice sorrowful. “But the loss of life didn’t end there. A group of young rogue soldiers attempted to reach the other realm shortly afterward. They were never seen or heard from again.”

  I took this in, turning the facts over in my head. “What did the Bureau do after losing so many soldiers?”

  “After that the existence of the breach, or whatever it was, became a larger issue, one of public health and safety. If civilians found out about it, the repercussions could’ve been catastrophic. People can be very stupid when curious. You know that—and those rogue soldiers further proved it to us. I suppose that the vampire wasn’t wrong in claiming that damage had been incurred. But the Bureau had no way to re-approach or even understand the situation, so it sealed the area, and personnel who knew about the tear were forbidden to speak of it.”

  Uncle Alan looked me in the eyes, his own warm, sorrowful, and firm all at once.

  “Lyra, you must realize that the Bureau isn’t deliberately keeping secrets. We understood nothing about what this event meant, or if the other plane was even real. We only knew that it was dangerous. It didn't prove anything regarding the origin of vampires, in the end, and we didn’t want to waste more lives in the search.”

  I sank between two couch cushions and gazed at my uncle for a moment, relieved. Considering the circumstances, it was what I would expect the Bureau to do. Civilian protection was the most important thing—that was the whole purpose of the Bureau to begin with. It would’ve been irresponsible to take further action without understanding the nature of the situation.

  Maybe Dorian had been right about this all being a huge misunderstanding.

  Uncle Alan sighed heavily and rested his intertwined fingers on his abdomen. “Forgive me, it’s been a very long nine days.”

  “Were any decisions made?” I asked carefully, tempering the eagerness in my voice.

  “Yes. We did come to a consensus. Finally,” he replied. “And, Lyra, this is not to discredit anything you experienced or said. This is simply the Bureau acting in the best interest of our people.”

  I nodded as I would to Captain Bryce, settling my demeanor into its most professional stance.

  “We can’t trust the vampire. Yes, you had pictures proving that he and the redbill didn’t hurt you. But that doesn’t eliminate the possibility that he was manipulating you and plotting to use you to infiltrate the Bureau.”

  My thoughts exactly.

  “One verbal account of this other plane isn’t enough evidence. We can’t agree to help a species that has historically hunted and murdered us based on this. I know you understand that we can’t risk something like that.”

  I kept my face steady, trying to will away a kind of tightness in my chest.

  My uncl
e narrowed his eyes on me, as though gauging my reaction before continuing.

  “This was the first vampire you’ve ever encountered. I know that you remember the stories your parents and I have told you, but engaging with one in person is very different from hearing tales or visualizing one in training. Now you know how overwhelming and terrifying they are. You were kidnapped, taken hostage. To survive, you obviously had to do whatever he said. I’m asking you to consider that he lied, using you due to your rank and family placement in the Bureau, because he probably knew it. He did ask about your surname.”

  “That occurred to me,” I agreed, ignoring another twist in my stomach.

  I considered showing him Dorian’s stone. Would that make any difference? I mean, Dorian could’ve given me a rock he found anywhere.

  If I did, I would probably never see it again.

  Dorian had wanted me to use it as proof—but he hadn’t known that would risk not getting it back. The Bureau wouldn’t want to give up an artifact that was literally from another plane of existence, and I’d look kooky trying to argue for it.

  “They are the most calculating creatures on the planet,” my uncle went on. “Wicked smart, predatory senses. There’s no way for us to know whether this was an elaborate act. I don’t doubt that you saw a ruined city, a mass grave, but we have no way of knowing whether those bones were even vampires or another species they’ve preyed on more successfully than humans. I’m sure it was all very convincing, even his request for asylum. I would want to help if I saw something like that, too. But we can’t just believe, after everything we’ve seen vampires do, that they’re actually victims.”

  I nodded, even though I wasn’t entirely pleased. Something itched in the back of my mind.

  “The vampire said something else. Remember when I mentioned he had a negative physical reaction to feeding on the man at the motel?”

  “Yes,” Uncle Alan said.