Page 67 of Dark Night Golden Dawn
“Who said anything about torture?” Athan breathed. She noticed one of his fingers tapped relentlessly on the steering wheel, as though whatever he had planned for her excited him to the point of perpetual motion. “You might love what we can do for you—I’d imagine a curvy thing like you is wanton as they come.”
Her blood chilled. She wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but his tone of voice was too sure, too confident for petty vengeance. Something else was happening here, and she very much doubted she would love anything Athan Sanvier could do for ortoher.
“Let me out of the car,” she insisted.
He ignored her. “I wonder how you’ll be when we turn you. No more spells of course, but your new power will be so sweet. Promise to ride me at least once, all right?”
Cold sweat broke out over Harlow’s skin as the fragments of his words fell together. What he implied was impossible. Neither Athan Sanvier nor the vampires of the House of Remiel, despite all their power, could turnherinto anything, and certainly not a succubus. That was what he was implying, wasn’t it? Harlow tried to tell herself that her imagination was running away with itself, that there was a reasonable explanation for all this. They were just vampires, after all, and vampires couldn’t turn other immortals into anything else.
If there was a reasonable explanation for this, I wouldn’t be trapped in a cab with Athan Sanvier,she thought.
If he’d just wanted to talk to her, he wouldn’t have used this cab. Nothing good would come of this. Her mind went to war with itself, part of it trying to convince the other that the cold fear lashing through her veins was all manufactured and irrational. The other part screamed,Get out, get out, get out. She needed to trust herself, hard as that was. She reached for the shadows, for the inky power of her newly manifested magic, but it sputtered.
She was too afraid and wished desperately that she could portal, but she still wasn’t powerful enough to blink through space. The shadows shifted within her, beyond the veil of reality. She could feel them try to help her from deep within the limen, trying to soothe her. It wasn’t that she had to banish the fear; she had to accept it and master it. Harlow looked out the window for the first time, trying to get her bearings. They were headed Uptown now, toward the House of Remiel’s quarters, a high-rise downtown where the hundred most elite vampires in Nuva Troi both worked and resided.
Once he took her inside, she would be subject to the vampires’ will, and no matter what that would not bode well for her.Help me, she begged her magic. A flicker of shadow brought her back inside the car; she felt it in her fingers. Felt the threads of reality around her. The car slowed at a red light and she saw the sun was setting, streaming down 55th Avenue for the first time today. The rain had stopped.
Harlow dropped into her spirit body quickly, summoning enough power to create the simplest fix. While fear had its claws in her, she understood that she didn’t need a flashy solution, just a reliable one and her wits. When the door handle appeared she willed it to be unlocked, perpetually unlocked, unable to evenbelocked.
“Shit,” she whispered, looking out the front of the cab, straight into the sun. She injected as much panic as she could into her voice, which wasn’t difficult, as her heart was thumping so hard she could hardly hear herself think. “What in seventeen hells isthat?”
Athan followed her gaze, squinting in the light, his sensitive eyes unable to make much out. He reached for sunglasses in the console and she made her move. She took the newly-made handle and opened the car door, sprinting straight into the line of light the setting sun created down 55th Avenue, back the way they’d come. She knew she couldn’t escape him for long, and this close to the House of Remiel there would be vampires everywhere. He was likely calling them now, if he wasn’t working on his own.
She darted out of the shadows of the sidewalk and back into the street, where the sun set streams of golden light ablaze. Though vampires could technically leave the comfort of their homes during the day, even small amounts of light made it difficult for them to utilize the full range of their power. When the sun disappeared, they would be nearly as quick and strong as the Illuminated though, and in the shadows, she spotted Athan’s backup gathering. They were tracking her in packs of three and four.
So he wasn’t working alone. The House of Remiel supported this, whatever it was. Frantically, she sought out options. Cars honked around her as they swerved to miss her. She couldn’t stand here for much longer, but the way the tall buildings blocked the light except for the very center of the street made it the safest place for her, despite the traffic.
The sun sank lower and hit the bank across the street just so, causing light to bounce off a small angled mirror affixed to the side of the building. It was a bizarre place to put a mirror, but she followed the new stream of light with her eyes. It made a narrow path through the shadows of the sidewalk across the street, hitting the door of a cafe square in the center, like a beacon.
Harlow didn’t have time to be curious as the traffic lights changed and the speed of cars around her began to pick up. She had moments to make a choice and she ran, following that tiny stream of light until her hands met the heavy wooden door of the cafe. It was a strange, pale grey color. She felt, rather than saw, the vampires closing in as she pushed the door open and dashed inside.
Once on the other side of the door, inside a small enclosed vestibule, she stared at a pair of heavy wooden doors, made of the same grey wood as the front door. Could it be white ash? None had grown in Nytra for centuries, and was extremely rare, as it could kill vampires and grievously injure the Illuminated. The doors’ brass handles were shaped like snakes, their scales thick and textured, like a dragon’s rather than smooth skin.
Curious. She peeked out the window next to the outside door. Sure enough the stream of light was gaining strength as the sun went down, growing wider.
The vampires backed off, as if repelled by the cafe itself, but then she saw what caused the effect: the windows of the cafe reflected more and more sunlight onto the street as the sun set, and hundreds of mirrors on the surrounding buildings made similar paths of light, all leading straight here. Very curious indeed.
She turned to examine the doors again. They were inlaid with intricate silver designs. The work was beautiful, but when she engaged her second sight, she saw the spells. The silver had been wrought into ancient sigils that would make it impossible for any creature of the Order of Night to cross without express permission. She was impressed with the spellwork, which had likely been extremely expensive and utilized techniques that had been out of vogue for several centuries.
But the magic was strong. If she crossed that threshold, it wouldn’t matter how dark it got outside, vampires wouldn’t be able to enter. She pushed one of the heavy doors open and heard soft piano music playing inside.
The ceilings of the cafe soared above her and she saw that while the front of the building had only a few narrow windows, the back windows arched overhead, enclosing the space in steel and glass, creating the feeling of an airy greenhouse. The back of the building was enclosed in a courtyard garden, bursting with lush plant life. Inside, enormous schefflera plants sprouted out of expensive jardinieres with a deep green glaze that all portrayed forest scenes. The plaster walls were painted a fresh white and various rattan chairs, cushioned in creamy, textured fabrics, surrounded marble and glass tables. The effect was eclectic, enchanting, andsafe.
The customers were mostly human, though there were a few shifters at a table in the far corner. People spoke softly or read books, and Harlow noticed that everyone was pointedly focused on minding their own business. This was not a place to see and be seen. As beautiful as the cafe was, she was surprised this wasn’t a hot spot for socials. But she’d never seen it, not even once, and she was slightly surprised to find that no one was on their phones, or using any kind of electronic device.
“Can I help you?”
Harlow turned towards the lilting accent of the northern territories. It issued from one of the Trickster’s Chosen, a tall, lithe creature dressed in a dapper, navy three-piece suit, with a sharply planed pale face and short silvery blonde hair.
She liked the look of them instantly. Their eyes were shrewd and dangerous, but infinitely calm. She wondered what their alternae was, with eyes like that. Something powerful and secretive, perhaps a big cat of some kind. Harlow took a chance that they’d help her. “I need to call Finn McKay, right away, please. Can I use your phone?”
She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d used Finn’s name. Perhaps because everyone knew who he was, but her deeper instinct told her there was another reason.
The shifter nodded slightly, looking out the window at the gathering group of vampires with vague disgust. At least three packs were closing in on the cafe. “Of course, Ms. Krane. I would be happy to get him on the line.”
Harlow stepped closer to the shifter, taking a sharp breath in, barely noticing that they’d already known her name. She’d never seen vampires act this way, not in broad daylight anyway. Of course, she’d heard stories about this kind of behavior at night, from some of the less regulated houses, ones that allowed nests to develop and all sorts of other unruly behavior, but nothing like this from the cultured House of Remiel. And yet it couldn’t be denied, the packs were in Remiel’s territory and these vampires werehuntingher.
“Ms. Krane,” the shifter said softly. “I have Mr. McKay on the phone.”
