I don't know how long I stare into the night before I hear footsteps. Several of them. My heart speeds up along with them. They're moving with purpose.
A strange fear takes hold and I'm tempted to try to escape through the window, but then Rachel comes through the doorway. Attila the Nurse is right behind her.
Rachel smiles. "Hey, kiddo. You ready to go home?"
I jerk my gaze back to the window to make sure—
"I'm not complaining, but it's night. Seems an odd time to break me out of here."
She suddenly looks uncomfortable as she sets a small duffle bag on the foot of my bed. "We just thought it would draw less attention."
As a delegate, I do usually have to deal with the media following me around. I'm actually surprised that no one has barged into my room with a camera and microphone. I can only assume that the Agency provided guards to make sure that didn't happen.
"Well, whatever the reason, I'm ready," I say.
The nurse comes over and removes the IV from the back of my hand. I'm fascinated by a drop of blood that beads up and rolls in slow motion along my skin. The nurse slaps a bandage over the wound and the spell holding me mesmerized is broken, the tiny droplet absorbing into the cotton, taking shape like some red butterfly with broken wings. She proceeds to remove other monitoring devices that were clamped on me or stuck to my skin.
"Thanks," I say when she's finished.
She just glares at me before pivoting on her squeaky shoes and leaving the room.
"What is her problem?" I ask.
Rachel ignores my question and just pats the bag. "Get dressed. I'll be outside."
She doesn't have to tell me twice. I pull my long black hair back into a ponytail. It feels great to shed my drafty hospital gown and pull on the clothes she brought me: well-worn jeans, a black tank top, and a black hoodie. I place the box of chocolates and the gift from Faith into the bag. I give the room a final glance and hope I never have to come back here.
When I join Rachel in the corridor, I'm surprised by how quiet it is. But not surprised by the two guards standing by the elevator. I have no doubt that Faith and Richard charmed them in order to visit with me. Or maybe they found another way in. Vampires are very resourceful.
"Aren't there any other patients?" I ask.
"Not on this floor," Rachel says. "VIP only." She tries to smile like it's a little joke.
"You mean only people who are in danger and need twenty-four-hour guards posted at the entrances."
"Let's just say it's easier to watch you when there's no one else around."
Normally I'd call them out for being overprotective, but maybe they aren't this time. Sin may have gone underground, but he's still a threat. Plus not everyone in the city appreciates my role as delegate.
We quickly make our way to the elevator and step in. The two bodyguards join us, standing like ever-present statues ready to spring to life.
"Now that you're well, Clive wants to debrief you soon," Rachel says, the elevator rumbling downward. "There've been a number of developments since … since the party."
Yeah, I can just imagine.
We step out of the elevator and into the lobby. Two more guards are standing nearby. They acknowledge us with a jerk of their heads. The lobby, like my own floor, is empty, the lights dimmed or turned off completely. It's so eerie here with no one around—like it's a ghost hospital.
Jeff is outside, waiting for us beside the Agency town car. "You're looking good," he says with a bright smile.
"And how about me?" I ask teasingly, pretending that I think his comment is for Rachel.
"You're looking good, too," he says with a wink, indulging me.
"Will you two knock it off?" Rachel says, then gives me a pointed look. "Yes, Jeff and I are dating." She ducks into the backseat.
"Awesome," I say as I join her. "About time you admitted it."
On the drive home, I welcome the sight of familiar places. I spot the Works, a sprawling mass of steel pipes reaching out to the sky. Out of the top plumes the constant blue smoke, created from the processing and burning of coal, which fuels the massive generator that provides electricity to the city. It also coats the city in soot, giving it a blackness that mirrors the oppression we faced under Valentine's rule. It'll be different with Victor. The darkness won't seem so dark.
"Can we take a detour by Day Street?" I ask.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Rachel says.
"Please? I just … I need to see it."
I notice Jeff studying Rachel in the rearview mirror, waiting for her decision.
"Okay," she finally says.
Day Street is what all of Denver is working toward becoming. When the sun sets and the shadows lengthen and creep between the buildings, huge streetlamps come on and chase back the darkness, making people feel safe.
But at this time of night, in spite of the bright lights, the street is completely empty. It wasn't abandoned before Sin wreaked havoc. A few people could always be seen taking in the evening, feeling the warm glow of the halogen bulbs, pretending for a moment that they weren't afraid, that they were the masters of the night.
Then I spot the Daylight Grill. It's a popular teen hangout. Or at least it was. Now it's boarded up. This is where we held the Teen Initiative party.
I started a campaign to get teens to donate blood in an attempt to increase our supply and keep Lord Valentine satisfied. The reward for donating was a free ticket to an entire night of dancing, food, and live music. As the sun set, we locked everyone into the Daylight Grill so no vamps could get in and ruin the fun. Unfortunately, the vampires were already there. Sin had decided to use the venue to reveal that he was the first Day Walker to ever exist. He did it by unleashing hell.
Jeff slows the car to a crawl. Flowers, plush teddy bears, and burning candles create a memorial in front of the building. Pictures of people my age—some I recognize from school—are mounted to the boards covering the space where the windows once were. And words have been scrawled in dripping red paint that gives a sinister feel to the messages left.
We won't forget.
We love you.
Vampires will pay.
Death to Dawn.
My chest tightens painfully with the last one, because I'm pretty sure they aren't referring to the sunrise. I swallow past the lump in my throat. "How many died?"
"Twelve confirmed," Rachel says in a raw whisper, and I know she didn't want me to have to face this yet. "Three are still missing."
As we roll past, I can't seem to tear my gaze from "Death to Dawn."
"Is this why we left the hospital at night?"
"During the day, people gather there, chanting, protesting. We weren't sure we'd be able to control the crowd if word got out that you were being discharged."
Jeff turns the corner and speeds up, maybe fearing that our little detour did more harm than good.
"People blame me," I say, almost trancelike.
"It's not your fault, Dawn. People don't know where to direct their grief and anger. You're a symbol, that's all. The Daylight Grill is going to be renovated and it'll reopen. It may take a while but things will return to normal."
Normal wasn't so great.
"Blood donations?" I ask, trying to make this conversation professional when it is painfully personal.
"No one's donating. People are advocating that we break the VampHu Treaty, that we fight the vampires."
"But this was all Sin's doing. People have to give Victor a chance to show that humans and vampires can work in harmony."
"People aren't in the mood to listen right now, Dawn. Even the Agency isn't trusted. We have to repair our reputation."
I try not to sink into despair. I had such hope for the future. Now it's just like Michael warned me: Things are worse.
When we get to our apartment building, Jeff sees us safely inside before leaving. Rachel and I take the elevator to our floor. I breathe a sigh of relief when we walk into our apartment. At least here, everything is the same. No, not quite. Rachel and I aren't slobs, but things are just a little too pristine. "The hospital didn't have any newspapers. So where are ours?"
"I tossed them already."
"Rachel." I give her a pointed look.
"You don't need all that mess in your head yet."
"It's already in my head." I pull my hair free of the ponytail. "What day is it anyway? Do I have school tomorrow?"
"Friday. And about school, the Agency has decided to hire a tutor. You'll take lessons here."
"Why?" And then it hits me. "Because of what people are writing on the wall at the Daylight Grill?"
"Clive just thinks it'll make things easier on you."
"No."
"Dawn—"
"No, Rachel. I'm not going to become a prisoner in this apartment or hide out. The Teen Initiative was a good idea. It worked. We were finally able to meet our blood quota. No one could have anticipated the arrival of a vampire who could walk in the sun and would throw Denver into chaos."
"We'll talk about it later."
She can talk all she wants, but I'm going to school Monday morning. I'm not weak and I don't scare easily. If I retreat into hiding, Sin will have won a little bit of his war. I'm not going to be one of his victims.
"Try and get some sleep," she says as she hugs me.
I squeeze her back, grateful she's in my life. I know she and Clive mean well, but I have to do what's best for me.
I walk into my room and close the door. It's so good to be here. Home.
I glance at the clock on the bedside table. It's a little after midnight. I should be tired, but I'm not. Maybe a warm shower will help. I unpack my duffle bag, putting the few items in it away. The last thing I take out is the picture I drew for the shrink. I trace my finger over the symbol. My palm tingles and it's almost as though my blood sings, "Find me."
What the hell is that? I place it gently on my desk, unsure if it holds secrets, or is just an image of my psychosis. I should destroy it, crumple it up, throw it away, but something holds me back. This stupid piece of paper feels alive....
God, what is wrong with me? I scurry into the bathroom and study my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I'm not even sure what I'm looking for: proof that I've somehow changed or reassurance that I'm the same. I'm thinner than I was and my blue eyes look too big for my narrow face. Leaning in, I pull my black hair to the side and scour my neck for any signs of a vampire bite. It's like my crucifix tattoo was never even touched, let alone punctured. Strange.
I comb my fingers roughly through my hair. Too much doesn't make sense. I have to visit Valentine Manor. I have to talk to Victor. I need to see for myself that he's all right. He told me that we couldn't be together, that I was his weakness and his enemies would use me against him. And Sin did exactly that.
But Victor came anyway. He risked his life for mine, just as I risked mine for his.
The last thing I remember isn't his eyes, but his breath on my neck, the smell of his hair combined with the coppery scent of my own blood, the feel of it running down my skin. And his tongue lapping at the precious, life-giving fluid. I felt his strength growing with every beat of my heart, every ounce of blood that flowed through my veins and into his; but I need to see for myself that he's fully recovered. I must go out to Valentine Manor. Tomorrow night.
"It's a date," I whisper with conviction to my reflection.
Turning away, I start the shower, strip out of my clothes, and climb into the tub. The warm water feels wonderful cascading over me. After being bound to a hospital bed, everything seems more sensitive. It's almost as though I can feel each individual drop. The lilac shampoo and soap I use is sweeter than it was before. Maybe because it hasn't been opened in so long. I could stay here forever, enjoying the sensations, but the water is beginning to lose its warmth.
I turn it off, step out, and blot all the water from my skin with a towel. I slip on my cotton pants and tank top. It's hard to believe such simple things can be an absolute luxury.
Turning off the light, I go into my bedroom, disappointed not to find a vampire sitting on my bed. The first time Victor came to my room he threatened me, threatened to kill Rachel if I screamed. But even then, as much as I hated him for being a vampire, I instinctively trusted him, sensing that his threats were bluffs. I never told anyone about his visits. I miss him terribly now.
I turn off my light and crawl into bed. I stare at the door to the balcony, wishing, hoping Victor will come through it. But he doesn't.