Darklight

by Forrest, Bella

"Your routine needs to change entirely even once you're out," Dr. Weiss added firmly, but her eyes remained caring. "You've suffered a severe medical emergency. No stressful assignments for at least three weeks. We're giving you a daily medication regimen to keep your hypertension under control."

  I wanted to groan but hadn't the strength. After all our hard work, I would miss the end of the trial period? We still had so much to do.

  I swallowed the doctor's orders and nodded. My usual stubbornness and workaholism needed to take a back seat—I could understand that.

  My family read the disappointment on my face and returned to patting and comforting me. Gratitude for their presence pushed tears to my eyes.

  "Lyra, it'll be fine," my uncle said gently, still holding my hand. "I’ve looked into your ‘side project’ with Captain Bryce. The evidence you've gathered is plenty for the board to consider. Between your recent assignment and your mission in Vegas, you uncovered multiple counts of police corruption. I’ve contacted Jim and will present this to my colleagues once I leave. This is bigger than you and Bryce now, so let the officials do their jobs for a bit."

  I sighed, calmed by his voice and the assurance of his warm hand.

  "No more worrying, honey. Rest. You've more than earned it," my uncle said, smiling. "I'm incredibly proud of you."

  Tears stung my eyes. He was right.

  "But it was supposed to be a surprise," I murmured, cracking a small smile.

  My uncle brushed my cheek. "And it was. You've done a great thing, Lyra. Enjoy knowing that."

  They left me to rest after my mother adjusted my pillows and blankets. My father dimmed the lights on his way out.

  Calm washed over me. The side project had succeeded; all of our secrecy, the embarrassing makeup job, the extra shifts and lost sleep and the vampires holding themselves back from killing had been worth it. My eyelids required no encouragement to close again. I convinced myself that the more I relaxed, the sooner I could return to the facility, the soldiers, next steps for our project after hearing from the board… and Dorian.

  The feeling of his lips brushing mine fluttered through my head again.

  I tried to block it out. That definitely wouldn’t help my blood pressure.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The next day, I waited for the doctor on the edge of my hospital bed, already in my clothes and shoes. When she finally came in, surprise flitted across her face.

  "Feeling better?" she asked.

  "Great," I said. “I mean, I've been asleep for three days. Why wouldn't I be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?”

  The doctor laughed, startled. “That’s not exactly how comas work,” she said. “In fact, they often cause permanent brain damage. But your case has been a bit… different.” Dr. Weiss raised her eyebrows slightly on the word “different,” unnerving me slightly.

  Brain damage? Holy crap. I felt ready to suit up for another redbill mission in less than twenty-four hours, but I didn't mention that. I felt fueled, energized.

  The doctor went over my charts with me and explained my medication schedule. I tucked my prescription into the pocket of the hospital-issued sweatpants. She advised that I continue minding my diet, but above all else, keep my stress levels down.

  "Yes, ma'am," I replied politely. It was not going to be easy for me, but I would do my darned best.

  She smiled. "You really have bounced right back. Good to see it. Please take care."

  Nervous energy tingled through my legs. It was time to get back to the facility.

  My immediate family escorted me from my hospital room to the parking lot, where a Bureau vehicle waited for us. My parents insisted on driving back to the facility with me. They initially wanted me to come home with them, but they admitted that as long as I stayed on base and didn’t exert myself with more missions, it wouldn’t make much difference. After all, Zach would be there, and the facility had its own twenty-four-hour medical wing that could be instructed to keep a close eye on me. The latter was more than we had at home.

  The car ride passed mostly in silence. I stared out the window, planning the days ahead. My parents still wore worry on their faces.

  "I'll keep a close eye on her, guys," Zach said from the front passenger seat, responding to their wordless concern.

  Even so, my parents struggled to release me from their hugs when they dropped us off.

  "Don't miss your flight," I said, giving them a reassuring smile. "No stress. I know. I promise."

  Zach took my arm, and we waved to our parents. He walked me inside, directly to the medical wing.

  After talking through my new, stress-free daily game plan with the medics—which primarily involved writing reports and filling out paperwork, rudimentary daily facility chores—and giving them copies of my hospital paperwork, Zach and I went to the cafeteria. There, we found the rest of our team somewhat listlessly eating their dinners, until they spotted me.

  Gina enveloped me, followed closely by Louise and even Roxy, a gesture I appreciated.

  "My God, woman, what happened to you?" she asked, with her typical amount of tact.

  The women drilled me, and even Grayson and Hank poked their heads into the circle.

  "Were you seriously in a coma for three days?" "What happened right before you fainted?" "Can you go on missions anymore?" I raised my hands, overwhelmed. These guys were definitely not helping my stress levels.

  It took some effort to convince them I was fine. "And I do need to rest again today, so I'll see you all later," I said, reluctantly peeling away from my team’s huddle.

  "She's going to see the vampires," Roxy muttered darkly to Louise. "Good luck with that."

  I shot her a frown but brushed it off as her particularly harsh humor. After all, I’d never had problems with the vampires. Nor, to my knowledge, had Roxy.

  My nervous energy returned to my legs, pushing me into a power walk as I neared the vampire quarters. I wanted to see Dorian smile again, and the crinkles that fanned around his eyes when he did. He would probably be relieved to see me up and about like nothing happened. I reminded myself to relax, for the sake of my blood pressure. It didn't help much.

  I walked confidently down the cell aisle, took a breath, and walked into Dorian's cell.

  Kane lay on the bed, reading, his bag on the floor. None of Dorian's things were in sight. I knew I was in the right place, but I couldn’t help looking around in confusion, as though I'd accidentally walked into the wrong cell.

  "Where's Dorian?"

  No response. I thought he and I had moved beyond the silent treatment days. What gives?

  I tried again. "Hey, Kane. Where's Dorian?"

  Nothing.

  What the hell is going on?

  "Kane," I said, irritation lining my voice. I snatched the book from his hand, staring at him.

  His gaze rose slowly to mine, icily indifferent. He shrugged his shoulders and ripped his book back out of my hand without a single word.

  "What the…" I muttered to myself. I knew Kane could be cold, but this felt different. Before, he’d at least answered my questions, even if he did so bitterly. He’d even told me he was glad I was alive last time I got out of the hospital. Had I done something to offend him? But I’d been unconscious the whole time. A tiny spark of dread entered my mind, but I pushed it away.

  I walked down to Kane's old cell. He and Dorian had probably switched rooms. The vampires sitting in their own cells didn’t greet me, but that wasn’t unusual. Pretending that a wall separated them from the hall gave them a sense of privacy.

  Besides Kane being a worse jerk than normal, all of this could be explained. But I fought my growing sense that something was terribly wrong.

  Bravi and Sike sat on Kane’s old bed. I waved, halting their conversation.

  "Hi, guys," I said, smiling, though the nerves I’d felt in my legs had turned to a totally different kind of jitter. "I’m back from the hospital. Where's Dorian?"

  Their eyes dropped to the floor.
Sike looked at my face, seeming conflicted, about to speak. Then, abruptly, he looked away from me, staring pointedly at the wall. Bravi crossed her arms, her lips turned down in a grimace.

  "Hello?" I asked. My stomach knotted, and I swiveled, searching the aisle for anyone who looked friendly, then looked back to the two vampires I’d begun to think of as allies, if not friends. "Guys, did something happen to him? Why won’t anyone speak to me?"

  Sike sighed and closed his eyes, tuning me out. Bravi’s face just got colder.

  I approached Thoth’s cell and peered in. “Hi, Thoth. How are you?” I pushed cheer into my voice, though it was increasingly difficult to start fresh with each vampire. He was reading, as always, but this time, he did not meet my eyes and give me a stately nod, as he usually did. I waited, hoping, but he simply turned a page after a minute.

  Refusing to give up, I stepped ahead to another cell and waved at Rayne and Harlowe, who chatted quietly. At least, until they saw me. Their faces fell, and they went silent. My heart sank. This was bigger than I’d let myself believe. The two young women swiftly exited their cell, brushing right past me as if I wasn’t even there.

  I stood there, staring at their backs for a moment, legitimate shock creeping over me. They disappeared into another cell. Was everyone making a practical joke? This was the strangest vampire behavior I’d seen since we’d arrived at the facility. Dread prodded me.

  I walked past another set of guards, moving quickly into the family quarters. Surely Rhome and Kreya would explain what was going on. They’d always been understanding. Surely…

  I knocked on their chamber door, and Detra slowly opened it, sucking her thumb. Rhome, Kreya, Carwin, and Laini sat around the room. They’d been talking, laughing, but at my appearance, silence fell among the adults in the room. Their faces turned to stone, shadows swirling hypnotically across them. It took Carwin longer to catch on, and he looked from face to face, his giggles trailing off.

  Detra pulled her thumb from her mouth, reached out toward me—then changed her mind and scurried to join Carwin behind their father’s legs.

  "I'm back," I said, pushing a smile through my worry.

  "Glad you're back," Laini said softly.

  Kreya shot her a hard look, which she returned, but closed her mouth.

  "How… How are you guys?" I asked.

  Another long, awful silence. Like Bravi and Sike, the family refused to look at me. The children didn’t move from behind Rhome’s legs, though Detra’s wide little eyes stared at me unerringly from her hiding place.

  Kreya milled about, folding the children's clothes in the corner.

  "Rhome?" I asked.

  He turned his back on me, focusing on stitching a little frock that I’d seen Detra wear before.

  I searched the women's faces but received only a small, strained smile from Laini.

  “Lyra, can we play the question game?” Carwin asked suddenly, his young voice so bright in the heavy silence. His eyes met mine, worried but hopeful. It broke my heart watching him try to fix something broken and knowing he would fail.

  “Not right now, Carwin.” Kreya immediately shushed him, her eyes narrow and severe. He frowned and set his head on his father’s leg.

  A new pain stabbed between my ribs, unlike the others I'd felt recently. This had nothing to do with my blood pressure. This was the pain of rejection.

  I stepped away from their chamber door, my palms growing sweaty. It felt like I'd entered an alternate dimension. Had the past few weeks even happened?

  Where were my friends?

  My desperation led me to open conversation with the guards.

  "Did something happen recently?" I asked them.

  They glanced at each other and shrugged.

  "Moody bastards, I guess," one said. "It's been like this for days now. Tight-lipped, little to no engagement. Soldiers say they've been the same on missions."

  "I think it's communal PMS," the other guard said, grinning. "Or maybe there's a full moon comin'." They chuckled to each other.

  I ignored the misogyny in favor of a more pressing issue. "Dorian. Where did Dorian move to?"

  "Down at the end," a guard answered. The other elaborated with a gesture. I tipped my head in thanks and took off in that direction.

  My breath wavered as I neared the door, the last in the hall. This was when Dorian said, “Gotcha!”, right? Or at least explained the issue—did the vampires and humans have a tiff while I was in the hospital? There was no way Dorian was part of this. Still, that dread sat inside me like a stone, growing by the second as I got closer to Dorian’s door. I picked at a fingernail, worry rushing through my muscles, listening for movement behind the closed door. I heard nothing. I knocked softly anyway.

  More of that unbearable quiet. My emotions toyed with me. Dorian would have opened the door for me instantly. What if he really wasn’t there? Or had he just not heard me knock?

  I knocked again, harder. "Dorian?"

  Nothing. But I had to be sure. "Dorian? I’m not going away."

  My pulse picked up as the silence stretched. The doctor would be pissed, but I had to figure out what had gone wrong. This would stress me no matter what, so I might as well get to the bottom of it.

  The door creaked open. Finally. Dorian’s dark hair gathered away from his eyes, the curling ripples flowing calmly over his cheeks.

  He looked like a statue of himself. Not the Dorian I knew. His eyes held the same dead-eyed gaze as the others’, like a robot had taken his place. Any hope I’d felt that he would be different fizzled out with a little dying spark of hurt.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  I squinted at him in disbelief, my anxiety slowly hardening into something else. Even Dorian was going to be this way? After everything we’d gone through?

  "What’s going on?" I asked. My dread had burst and splattered disappointment all over my insides, leaving only determination behind. I would find out what had happened if it killed me. And in this case, that was a possibility. I took a deep breath and ordered my muscles to relax.

  "Nothing. Do you need something?" His voice was devoid of emotion.

  "Excuse me?" I didn’t try to hide the hurt in my voice.

  "What do you want?" He stood in the doorway, his lean, toned body stiff and formal. His eyes stared blankly over my head.

  "Dorian, I… just got back from the hospital in Phoenix." The words had to grind up my throat to get out. There was so much hurt inside me that I felt pressure on the back of my ribcage.

  He nodded, not saying a word, but his lips twitched, as though struggling to contain an expression. What, I couldn’t say, but at this point, any reaction was encouraging. Maybe I could talk him out of this.

  I tamped down the heat in my belly and started again. "How are you doing? I haven't seen you since—"

  "I’m fine," he snapped, cutting me off before I could mention the party. For a moment, his eyes squeezed shut, as though in pain. The tightness of his voice said anything but fine.

  "Okay," I said, his irritation infecting my own tone. I was so done with this runaround. “Why is everyone so weird today?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about." He’d returned to his flat, dead-eyed demeanor.

  I put a hand on my hip. "Are you serious? You sound like a child right now."

  He didn't respond, didn’t move a muscle. I couldn't even see his breathing. I’d been annoyed by Dorian before—terrified and really angry, even, at the beginning—but what rose inside me now felt like what a redbill scream sounded like.

  "Dorian," I said, through an exhale. I tried to steady my breathing so my heart would stop pounding so quickly. Keep away from stressful situations… "Please, tell me what's going on. Talk to me."

  "Nothing is going on,” he replied tersely. “We're just here, doing what we were asked to do."

  His stare continued to floor me. It was like looking at a corpse. A mean one.

  I couldn’t help the shiver that shook my spine
. Twilight zone. Dorian’s eyes seemed to stare at my face, and yet he refused to meet my eyes.

  "Look at me!" I exclaimed, my voice bursting out of me before I could tamp it down. "Tell me why you’re doing this. Did you have your memory erased?"

  "No, Lyra," he growled, finally meeting my eyes. Be careful what you wish for. It was like a burst of Arctic air. "We're doing what needs to be done: protecting ourselves. Now we've seen what happens when our species mingle, and it's not safe for us—or you, apparently."

  I stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

  I saw a spark of something in his icy gaze, but it vanished before I could interpret it. Annoyance? Frustration?

  He spoke sharply. "Lyra, what happened to you wasn’t heartburn. It was a sign—a confirmation, rather, from the universe—that our proximity isn't natural. We knew all along…” He trailed off, his face returning to corpse status.

  I tried to keep my teeth from clenching. All that crap inside of me, dread turned anxiety turned hurt, swelling up and festering, soured my mouth.

  "Dorian… All I’m asking you to do is explain to me, so I can understand." Preferably without words like “natural” and “sign from the universe,” but right now I would take what I could get. At least someone was talking to me.

  He continued. "We both know that vampires are here under emergency circumstances. That's it. This arrangement was a requirement. Could you just accept that?"

  I continued to stare. I'd prefer the vampire I met on the cliff to this strange and cryptic one.

  "I’m sure your kind are coming to realize that you need us as much as we need you,” he went on coolly. “That’s all this arrangement needs to be about. We should have known from the start that this place was not a clubhouse, but we let ourselves forget. We made a mistake. It’s not happening again. There are no friends here. This is a business transaction."

  "What the hell?" was all I could manage.

  Even if he were right about this "sign," it seemed like he'd forgotten everything that came before. If some mystical message from the universe had happened, couldn’t they at least have let us know and gotten our take on it? Even as a courtesy? We’d been working together as a team for weeks now, building goodwill to benefit both our species. And they’d tossed it aside, for no understandable reason.