Dawn till Dusk: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Genesis Crystal Saga Book 1)

by Becky Moynihan

  Better. Not really. A bandaid slapped over a gaping wound.

  I kept replaying the fight, retracing each word, trying to find the exact moment things went south. Did I believe what I had said to Tarik? That Mordecai wouldn’t kill me? I had never seriously considered him taking his anger that far. Lashings, sure. My fingers brushed the dragon mark on my neck, still achy. A reminder that Mordecai’s punishments were escalating again. Every time I was caught, or learned more about my adoptive father, I gained a clearer picture of exactly what kind of monster he was. Did I deserve the brand? No. Maybe . . .

  Hell.

  I don’t know.

  My eyes fell to the still-bleeding wound on my arm. I deserved that. No question. Tarik had a way of poking at my temper, lighting the worst parts into a blazing rage. But I was an Enforcer. Losing control like I had was unacceptable. His words were cruel, but he had used words and I had resorted to violence. My behavior was unacceptable. Plus, my shifter abilities gave me an unfair advantage. Guilt rippled through my chest. I was supposed to be better than this. If I couldn’t be, how could I hold him responsible for his own actions?

  Because he had hurt me in return, then kept going. Because he had repaid every blow I had given him and I couldn’t do the same. I didn’t want to. My heart clenched. I hadn’t deserved that, no matter what his reasons were. He stole something precious.

  I’m done thinking about this.

  Inhaling slowly, I forced my mind to wander, thoughts skipping back and forth until they landed on the boy. Benji. I didn’t know much about him, and I had never met his mother, but clearly her health was worsening. Tarik wouldn’t get paid for a few days yet—Mordecai had them on a biweekly cycle. Maybe I could help. I didn’t know which apartment was hers, but I could leave the medicine with Tarik.

  That would mean seeing him.

  I winced.

  No, thanks.

  I took another drag from my cigarette and crushed the hot cherry into the broken concrete beside me. I could help Benji and his mother, Tarik be damned.

  Climbing to my feet, I vaulted the half wall and threw my leg over the seat of my bike. She purred, raring to go, but I hesitated. My mind skimmed over the places that might have what Benji’s mother would need. I had medicine in my penthouse, but no vitamins—and she would need those if she was struggling to heal. Buying them wasn’t an option. Mordecai was likely tracking my purchases right now.

  Damnit. There had to be more options.

  My fingers drummed the handles of my bike as I looked around the quiet street. I tugged at my lip ring, lost in thought, gaze falling to the mansion that taunted me in the distance.

  I can take the medicine from Mordecai.

  He would never notice, and the irony would be sweet. His money, directly funding my efforts to save the Fae . . .

  I huffed an airy laugh before I laid on the gas.

  —

  The mansion’s doors loomed in front of me but I couldn’t seem to move. Mordecai kept his first aid supplies in a bathroom near his office. If I went there, he’d see or hear me. I tapped my foot on the stone path, glancing at the small flower gardens that edged the lawn. Their presence was a travesty, the bright petals far too vibrant for a place holding so much darkness.

  Darkness.

  The mines. The medical room. I could steal the medicine from there. No one was down there right now, or should be. My patrol didn’t start for an hour yet. I eyed the door handles that taunted me to pull them open.

  Reaching out, I wrapped my fingers around the polished silver and waited for the soft click. No turning back now. I stepped through, nodding curtly at Squirrel Butler before I dipped down the rear hall. I took a roundabout path, stopping in random rooms, checking for people. No one seemed to be here, or at least not on the lower levels as I crept into the downstairs hallway. I paused outside the mine door to extend one of my claws. Picking the lock was the work of ten seconds.

  Another minute and the bottom of my boots met the stone floor of the mines. The scent of sweat now mingled with the earthy smell I had grown used to. Everything felt off down here, and I wasn’t talking about the unusual pull on my stomach. Even the stone walls seemed to understand that something terrible was going to happen. I swallowed hard and crept along. No voices echoed from the mining chambers, no click of heels resonated from Jocelyn’s pacing. Everything was painfully, unnaturally silent.

  I could see relatively well in the dark. Well enough that I wasn’t concerned about light as I slunk into the dim lab room. The password warning flickered brightly from the computer in the corner.

  “I’ll deal with you next,” I muttered.

  Having a plan made me feel better. My chest tightened when I paused, so I simply kept moving. Tried to focus on my task. The fight with Tarik taunted my thoughts, images and words replaying in waves. I shoved them away roughly. Tarik’s split second of hesitation before his final words to me pushed to the forefront, words he apparently thought I deserved.

  That was goodbye.

  My throat closed, a knot wedged in the middle. I tried to swallow and choked instead.

  Focus. I needed to focus. The medicine cabinet was on the far wall. I moved forward and studied the case, rapping a finger against the glass. The tiny sound echoed, louder than I had expected. I stilled, listened. Silence. The glass was thick, and the lock didn’t have a hole to pick. I drummed my fingertips across my forehead, whispering, “There has to be something.”

  My eyes slid to the small metal hinges that ran down the side of the cabinet door. I pulled in a sharp breath. This could be risky. I scanned the shelves. Everything Benji’s mother would need was here—vitamins, pain medicines, supplements.

  Dark, auburn curls and amber eyes flooded my thoughts. Skipping feet, a joyful laugh. My jaw clenched.

  I had to do this.

  But I wouldn’t make the same mistakes as before. I wouldn’t get caught.

  Benji wouldn’t become her.

  With only a second of hesitation, I watched as my index finger shortened, a long claw extending from the end. I raked the point down the metal of the first hinge. The steel resisted, so I turned to the screws holding them in place. My nail was pointed enough that, with my shifter strength, I could twist the large screw loose. This was going to take a while.

  I took my time though, one screw after another, carefully holding the door with my free hand. When the final hinge slipped loose I almost sighed in relief—until the full weight of the door shoved against my arm and I slipped.

  The glass shattered.

  Air froze in my lungs. My pulse flew to a thundering rhythm, drowning my thoughts. Echoes of the crash still reverberated through the room and caverns surrounding. I waited, positive that Squirrel Butler must have heard the crash. Seconds passed. Minutes, maybe. Then I heard them. Heeled shoes clacking across stone. I grimaced, searching the room.

  The shower—bunched white curtains trailed the tile floor. I moved as quickly as I dared, pulling the sheet around me. The stifling scent of new plastic overwhelmed my senses. My heart raced as the heels stopped outside the room. Lights flicked on. I slowed my breathing, tried to still my arms and legs as they shook with adrenaline.

  “What the hell—” Jocelyn’s heels clicked closer before they faded into a soft shuffle—like she was on her toes. Silence fell, then a frustrated sigh. I didn’t dare move.

  More small shuffles reached my ears, and the clatter of glass shards, then the heels retreated from the room. This was too easy. All I had to do was grab what I needed and get out.

  But the footsteps returned before I could move, and she wasn’t alone this time.

  “. . . was coming to get you, sir.”

  “What happened?” Fresh waves of fear washed over me at the second voice. If Mordecai heard me, if he saw me . . . I begged my heart to be a little quieter.

  “This cabinet door fell. I don’t know how.”

  Glass crunched. More swearing. “Who installed this unit?”
>
  “Um, I’m not sure, but I could check with the installation staff.” Jocelyn’s voice trembled.

  “Fire anyone who had a hand in these cabinets. Execute one, make the others watch. Sloppy handiwork will not be tolerated in my city.”

  No . . .

  A shifter would die for this? I swallowed the bile that raced up my throat. Damnit. This was the exact opposite of what I was trying to do.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll have one of the maintenance staff come down here in the morning and clean up the glass.”

  Mordecai’s footsteps retreated a bit, then paused. The rapid tap of computer keys filled the silence. “See that you do. And order a replacement door.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He left and a weight fell off my shoulders. The terror that had risen in my chest faded. Jocelyn was at the computer now, her fingers skimming over the keys. She was silent otherwise; apparently Mordecai made her more nervous than she cared to say. Or maybe she hated that he had appointed her to pick a shifter for execution. An innocent employee.

  And, since an Enforcer was required to be at executions, I would be the one to oversee it. Mordecai liked to remind me what he was capable of—and that I couldn’t stop him. I shuddered to think what my punishment would be if I even tried.

  Only a few minutes passed before she left, the lights snapping off. I waited until the sound of her heels faded away, and then a few more beats. Silence. Utter and complete silence. I inhaled, then slowly released the breath. Close. That was too close. Carefully, I pulled the curtain away, wiping small beads of sweat from my forehead. I snitched a small first aid bag from a side cabinet and shoved bottles inside, picking from the back so they hopefully wouldn’t be missed. When the bag was full I crept for the door, my eyes sliding momentarily to the computer.

  Jocelyn hadn’t logged Mordecai out. My heart skipped. Lingering any longer would be asking for trouble. I had already almost been caught. I moved to leave.

  And turned at the last moment, making a beeline for the desktop.

  My fingers flew over the keys, pulling files, searching for anything that would tell me what they were doing down here. At first, there wasn’t much related to the mines; shipping logs, trade deals for paper products, a map that showed an underground passage from the shifter district out past the city limits. That had to be how Mordecai imported goods; I had always been told that information wasn’t my business. I would have to look into it when I had more time.

  I clicked a yellow envelope buried deep in the documents folder.

  All the employee files popped up. Blood work, personal data. Original applications. Deeper in were the official announcements as well as detailed sheets filled with rules and expectations.

  In a file of their own, tucked into a corner I almost missed, were a bunch of files detailing experiments Mordecai had done on himself. I didn’t have time to read them in depth but the notes I gathered from skimming were repulsive enough. They weren’t what I was looking for. I closed them out and continued on.

  At the bottom, right as I was starting to think that what I needed wasn’t here, I clicked a lone folder.

  Genesis Crystal—Trial One.

  I skimmed the page, eyes widening the more I read. The details were horrifying. Outlines of lab procedures, tests meant to measure the effects of the Genesis Crystal in unwitting subjects after days of exposure to build their tolerance.

  Mordecai was planning to trap the Fae he had hired. Cage them and experiment on them. My stomach twisted. Mordecai was a monster. An absolute monster. The brand on my neck twinged as if confirming the thought. Spreadsheets by the dozens filled the file, ready for the results of a multitude of blood tests, sample doses, and placebo scenarios. I swallowed. I had to tell Tarik.

  He wanted this job.

  I groaned in frustration. He didn’t want this. No one would. But would he listen if I told him?

  None of that mattered if I didn’t get out of here. The longer I lingered the later I was going to be for my patrol. I was already late. If I didn’t take to the sky soon, Alec would report me. He enjoyed making sure I was doing my job. Enjoyed stalking me, more like. Stalker. My chest panged. I shoved that word and its association aside, clicking my way through a set of red x’s and signing Mordecai out.

  You’re welcome, Jocelyn.

  I climbed the spiral staircase, careful to lock the mine door behind me before I bolted out the rear door of the mansion. Shedding and abandoning my clothes in the bushes, I stretched into lion form. Clouds trailed lazily over the bright moon, already high in the dark sky. I was late, so late. Damnit.

  My wings stretched wide as I took flight, the first aid bag clenched tightly between my teeth. I flew straight for Tarik’s apartment, glancing at his neighbor’s windows as I landed and slid into a shift. No sign of Benji. I groaned, my eyes carefully tracing each building.

  Fine.

  I twisted the handle on Tarik’s door, surprised when I heard the soft click and met no resistance. Yeah, that’s safe. My heart stuttered when I saw him splayed across his bed, like he had collapsed from exhaustion. I knew he had been tired. An apology bubbled up in my throat.

  Then his lips moved, parted. The sight reignited the fury in my veins, reminded me of that particularly painful hurt. In a moment of haste, I dumped the bottles on his sleeping form, not at all surprised when he didn’t move. I threw the bag too and stormed out, taking to the sky.

  Stupid, arrogant Fae prick.

  —

  Regret. I ached with regret.

  I punched the shower tiles. Afternoon sun blazed through the bathroom window, meaning Tarik was already at work. Maybe today wasn’t the day Mordecai planned to trap them. Maybe I still had time to tell him. Sure, seeing him would rip my soul apart. Again. But I couldn’t keep letting him go into that mine without a proper warning, one based on evidence instead of vague concerns. My gut ached at the thought of facing him, but avoiding him would hurt more than my bruised heart—two dozen Fae would be condemned to a fate worse than death. I couldn’t let Mordecai’s twisted plans come to fruition.

  Tarik had been right, though. If Mordecai was so willing to torture the Fae, I couldn’t imagine what he would be willing to do to me. I had no doubts now that he would follow through on his threat to Tarik; if he thought harming me would keep that temperamental Fae in line, boy was he wrong. Still, his obsession with the Fae had gone too far if he was willing to run experiments on them.

  Arrogant prick he may be, but Tarik was right. I didn’t deserve the brand on my neck. Mordecai was abusive. Controlling.

  I choked back a sob, but the tears fell anyway. Nevaeh would know what to do. I almost wanted to call her, but I knew what she would say. Talk to Tarik. Apologize. Or at least try.

  But when I thought about that kiss, the angry press of his lips to mine, and the forceful way he had shoved me back. My tears renewed. I sat on the floor of my shower and let them fall.

  Minutes passed before I swiped at my face, the effort wasted under the steady downpour. Time to get up. I needed to collect myself, take action. I could find him and tell him what Mordecai planned, and then, if I didn’t want to, I never had to see him again. Right now, I could live with that. But I couldn’t exactly walk up to him in the mines.

  When the water ran cold, I dried off and climbed into bed. The warmth and comfort of my blankets sang a siren’s song that was impossible to resist. I didn’t want to go anywhere or see anyone, anyway. I set an alarm for half an hour after he should get out. Didn’t want to be too much of a stalker.

  I punched my pillow, burying my face in the impression my fist left.

  A couple hours later the painfully cheerful chirp of my alarm woke me. My body was sluggish but my mind was ready to go. I had a plan. I dressed quickly and took the elevator instead of shifting. No time to deal with Fae modesty. I needed to spit the words out and be gone.

  My mind was a carousel of emotions—angry, then sad, then hurt. Never at the same time. I glanced left a
nd right, eyes skirting the route to the mansion. Abandoned, no Fae to be seen. Come on. I want to get this over with.

  Under my hands, the handles of my bike vibrated; as though she could feel the tension squeezing my shoulders and wanted to get moving. I pushed her forward, racing toward Tarik’s apartment, but the dark windows told me all I needed to know. No lights, no Tarik. My stomach lurched. Maybe I was too late. Maybe Mordecai had kept them today.

  Damnit.

  I can’t be too late.

  My fist met his rotted, wooden door frame. A distant shout echoed down the street and I realized that I had one final hope. The Pit. I kicked my bike into motion, flying across the worn blacktop.

  The air around The Pit felt wrong tonight, the shifters eyeing me in a way I wasn’t particularly comfortable with. Out for a fight, and the Night Enforcer was the perfect target. I set my kickstand and ignored them.

  Not tonight boys, I’m not in the mood.

  Tarik wasn’t inside though. Frenzied anxiety roared through my veins.

  Where is he?

  I didn’t want to be wrong, didn’t want to be too late.

  Please, please don’t let me be too late.

  As I climbed the stairs from The Pit, one of the angry-looking shifters sidled up beside me. The scent of whiskey was strong and upset the delicate balance of my stomach. I almost expelled the meager contents all over him.

  “Aw, Enforcer, can’t find your boyfriend?”

  I puffed myself up. “Do you really want to instigate a fight you’re not ready for? I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Oh, no? We know all about you, dirty Fae-lover.” His eyes locked on my face as he waited for me to confess my treasonous behavior.

  I chuckled softly. “You might want to check your sources.”

  I turned to leave when he grabbed my arm. Rage spiked through my veins and I swung for his face, but he caught my fist. His eyes raked the length of my body and I shivered at the predatory glint that sparked to life. The scent of alcohol washed over me. Liquid courage.