One of them looks up. “Ever since we got your report about the Chosen, we knew that the manor could be easily compromised during the day. We’ve had a scout watching it at all times. He saw several vampires breaking in early this morning and came back to the city as soon as possible. We moved out once we received word.”
“Well, we’re extremely grateful,” I say.
“We’ve been practicing the mission for months,” he says, then pauses. “Of course, we always assumed we’d be
I’m not surprised that an assassination plan was always in the works in case the Valentine family got too greedy.
“You have my eternal thanks,” Victor says, sitting against the thin metal wall, looking not far from death— though I know he’s a long way from knocking on its door.
“We’re allies in this fight now. We aren’t planning on leaving you behind,” Michael says.
In the director’s office the thick shutters are drawn across the windows.
“Are you sure you won’t take any blood?” Clive asks Victor.
“No. I’m healing.”
“And what of you, Dawn? How are your injuries?”
I touch the bandage around my head, where a nasty gash had to be sewn up. I don’t bother feeling for the bruises on my neck; I know they’re there.
“I’ll live.”
Clive leans back, looking so different in this dim light that suits vampires over humans.
“Dawn,” he begins, “I’d like to offer you the small apartment here in the Agency building. It’ll be safer than the one you share with Rachel, and it’ll be easier to contact you if needed.”
“Thank you. I’d love it.”
It won’t have any of my things, and it won’t feel like home, but that doesn’t matter. Clive is right; it’ll be safer, and I have a feeling I’ll be in this room most of the time. I’m not the delegate anymore, but my role within the Agency, my role within the entire city, is more important than ever before. As delegate, I was the ambassador of the people to Valentine. Now I feel like the ambassador of all people to all vampires. I’m in the center of something strange and new, on the cusp of an even newer World Order. The question is whether it will be mine, and the dream born in Crimson Sands, or whether it’ll be Sin’s, a world of walls and monsters worse than any that have ever walked beneath the sun or stars before.
In the tiny apartment I immediately pour Victor a drink but take coffee myself.
The place is simple, sharp lines giving a perfect geometry not often seen in the city. It’s devoid of a personality. No pictures, no art, no little tchotchkes. Instead, it’s clean and sanitary, a combination of dark woods and glass.
Making a quick tour, I find that the place is smaller than the apartment I share with Rachel. It’s utilitarian: a basic kitchen for cooking, a basic bedroom for sleeping, and a bathroom.
“I must look horrible,” Victor says.
“You always look beautiful,” I say.
He laughs and then cringes, one of his many wounds reminding him that laughter is off the table for now.
“You should rest,” I tell him, “so you can heal.”
He glances over at the bed. “Will you join me?”
Nodding, I follow him to the bed. I lie gingerly beside him and he puts his arm around me.
“Last night, I almost forgot that we’re still fighting for our existence,” I say softly.
“But if we don’t have moments like last night,” he says quietly, “we can forget what it is we’re fighting for.”
For each other, a better world, a better future.
Two days later, Victor’s burns have healed and he’s regained most of his strength. During that time, he drank only the blood he needed to satiate himself and allowed the healing to come as naturally as possible for a vampire. I told him he should gorge, drink every drop he can to help his wounds heal quickly, but he wouldn’t hear of it. There are other vampires in the city now, good vampires, who need that blood just as badly.
The Night Watchmen have taken to guarding the day, while Anita leads the new Fanged Watchmen, a group of Victor’s most trusted Lesser vampires, who guard the night. It seems like Denver’s protective angels have quadrupled. Before, one rarely caught a glimpse of a black-clad Night Watchman; now it’s commonplace. People feel safer. Even with so much chaos beyond the walls, everything inside is under control.
Victor and I are at a warehouse, standing in the shadows, observing the drills and training exercises. Night Watchmen, human and vampire alike, have been sharing their knowledge, their weapons, their skills so they can make short work of defeating the Chosen when they arrive.
“How close do you think the Chosen are?” I ask.
Victor shakes his head. “Impossible to know.”
“Maybe Clive should send out some scouts.”
“I would hate for them to run into Sin and his army alone.”
“The waiting is driving me crazy.”
Victor gives me a small smile. “That’s probably part of his plan.”
At the echo of crisp footsteps I turn to see Faith walking briskly toward us. “Clive told me I’d find you here.”
“How are things going with the citizens?” Victor asks when she stops in front of us.
“Good. People are stockpiling food, preparing for a possible siege, but there’s no panic. We’ve set up emergency ration centers, hospitals. I have some Lessers examining the wall for weaknesses. If they exist, our vampires will find them. We’ll stand a better chance if we can keep Sin out.”
Victor grins. “Maybe you are a tactician.”
“That’s common sense. But I’m here for something else.” She takes a shuddering breath. “Richard and I shared another dream today. They destroyed the V-Processing center, detonating it. The entire Agency building is gone. But the city was empty.”
“Empty?” Victor repeats.
“No one was there. The Inner Ring, you remember it, Dawn. It was so full of energy and people, well, Day Walkers. But when I saw it through Richard’s eyes, there was no one.”
“So Sin took all his Day Walkers with him,” I say. “We knew he was on the move.”
She shakes her head.
“I relived it all through Richard. He held my hand and we walked through the empty streets. Everything was so fuzzy, like one of those old films you collect, Victor. And I felt it on my skin. I didn’t know what it was. But now I do. It was ash. Dawn, the Day Walkers, they died.”
“What! How?”
“I don’t know. And neither does Richard. Some of the other Old Family wanted to go looking for them. They said horse tracks and hundreds of footprints led out of the city. But they went in all directions. Why did he leave so many behind? Why did the others die?”
Faith rubs her arms, like the ash is on them.
“I’m scared,” she says. “Sin is up to something and I hate not knowing what it is.”
I share Faith’s concerns. Sin has always managed to be one step ahead of us.
“How’s Ian?”
“Grateful to find that most of the Night Train cars are intact.”
I notice then that the warehouse has grown quiet. The practice maneuvers are over. Fewer Watchmen are standing about, and I realize their vampire counterparts have dispersed for the day, seeking sleep and protection from the sun.
“It’ll be dawn soon,” I say. “We should head back to the Agency.”
“Come with us, Faith,” Victor says. “I don’t want you being alone in the city.”
As we walk to the Agency, I’m acutely aware of the calm, the silence as though everyone—everything—is simply waiting. Waiting for Sin to make his move.
From time to time, I notice an amateur poster slapped onto the side of a building:
KEEP THEM FED SO THEY CAN PROTECT US.
