A Dark-Adapted Eye Read online

  “Are you gay?”

  “What? No. I’m just not going to get involved with every hot girl that comes along, all right?”

  “Like Les does,” Criseyde supplied.

  Ivory glared at her for a moment. “Yeah. Like that. His relationships never end well.”

  Les ignored them both and looked at me for a brief instant. “By the way. Nice hair.”

  “Hey,” Cris said, indignant, as I ducked my head to hide a smile. “What about me?”

  “Yours is nice, too.”

  “Gee, thanks.” She sighed dramatically and flopped back on the couch. “So much for going out tonight.”

  “I don’t think either of you should go out at night any time soon,” Ivory said. “Not with this stuff going on. And Asha, no going up on the roof. Not for a while, anyway.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled.

  “I get off most nights at nine,” said Cris, sounding only slightly worried. “I’ll be out after dark a lot.”

  “Try to change your schedule, then,” Ivory advised. “This is serious stuff.”

  The commercials ended and we all shut up. Curled up on one half of the couch, I found myself nibbling my nails as the helicopter camera continued panning around the highway, one side dark, one choked with the glare of headlights. It was mostly the same shots over and over now, hundreds of dark figures marking the highway for miles, coming in like the tide to our shore.

  No one is sane. Now I’m insane, too.

  I finally dozed off around one and woke back up when Ivory started shaking my shoulder. It was nearing dawn and the vampires had all reached us. They had disappeared into various buildings, seeking shelter from the imminent rising of the sun.

  “They can’t stand the sun,” Ivory told me as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “They don’t burst into flames or anything, but they’re pretty much dead if it touches them.”

  Les nodded at the screen. “They’re about to tell us what’s happening in Washington.”

  Criseyde had fallen asleep on the other half of the couch. I debated letting her sleep, knowing what a grump she was if she had to wake up before ten, but then I decided this was something worth hearing right away. She groaned in protest but dutifully woke and we settled in to hear the outcome of the conference. It was another hour before the correspondent in Washington relayed to the local anchor what surely everyone in Las Secas was dying to hear.

  “The President has finally decided on the country’s course of action,” the correspondent said. “The citizens of Las Secas can expect a full quarantine, which the military will begin to enforce later this morning. This decision was made in the hope that with the vampires concentrated in one area, the rest of the country will be safe.”

  “They came here for a reason,” Ivory guessed. “The quarantine is for us, not for them.”

  “If the vamps have a reliable food source, they won’t need to leave,” Les said bitterly.

  “I was going to go to Paris,” Criseyde whispered.

  The government’s plan was a haphazard one, hastily thrown together, but it sounded effective enough to me. We learned there would eventually be permanent military stations along every road leading out of town. Las Secas wasn’t a huge city, and the locations of the stations were strategic. The idea was to prevent every car from leaving, though I supposed people could try to escape on foot if they wanted. The only vehicles allowed in and out would be trucks with food or other necessary supplies, and those would be thoroughly checked. For what, I could only imagine.

  I stared at the TV without comprehending a thing, trying to process this information, trying to hide my panic behind a stoic façade. Ivory had been right about vampires all along, but even he couldn’t have foreseen this. The sudden news of the quarantine was depressing and insulting. I felt saddened and frustrated. I was trapped. Everyone was. I would never see anything I hadn’t seen already.

  “Until further notice,” I said, repeating the anchor’s latest words.

  “It’ll be dangerous out there,” Ivory predicted quietly. “People will die. The city’s going to be practically feral now that so many people just left and got replaced by vampires.”

  Even people from our own neighborhood had left. All night we’d heard raised voices and car doors slamming, tires squealing. Now it was quiet.

  I wondered how those people could have abandoned everything, their whole lives, just because a few hundred vampires wanted to move to town. What would they do? How would they survive in the world when they’d left so much behind? Unlike me, they must have been immediately and thoroughly convinced of the threat vampires posed in order to have left so quickly.

  We weren’t leaving. We were stuck. My heart thumped, a feeling both thrilling and frightful. I glanced at Les, who stared at the TV with eyes bigger and more rueful than I’d ever seen them. I could deal with this, I told myself. I knew I could, as long as I had him and Ivory and Criseyde. The only three people I loved in the world.

  two

  one year later

  terminator: the boundary between the light side and the dark side of a planet or other body

  I couldn’t avoid the night forever.

  If I wanted to live in the world, the real world, I’d have to learn the rules.

  Rules. Ivory had been telling me about them for a year, and I didn’t like them. Or the world they applied to. But I was sick of coming home before dark. I was nineteen, inexperienced in most things, and I no longer had any intention of hiding in my room until Las Secas was safe. That day would probably never come again. Besides, I reminded Ivory, lots of people still went out at night. The vampires had come, the quarantine was in place, and people got on with their lives.

  Criseyde and I were long overdue in celebrating our high school graduation. Tonight, she insisted, we were finally going to a club. I was pretty sure I had nothing to wear. At least I had nothing like what she was wearing: a glittering white tube top, a short black skirt, and strappy silver heels.

  “Um . . .” I said, my gaze shifting uncertainly to the mirrored doors of my closet.

  “I’ll pick something out for you,” she offered.

  She marched over to my closet and flung the doors open so they slid precariously on their gold rails before banging into the wall. I half expected she’d pronounce my entire wardrobe unsuitable and call the whole night off, but that was something she’d never do. For the last year she’d been going to clubs like the quarantine had never happened, like there weren’t vampires among us, and I’d finally worked up the courage to go with her instead of lounging on the roof, staring at the moon and trying to decipher constellations.

  “This,” she said, flinging a tight red tank top, one I hadn’t worn in forever, over her shoulder. It landed on my full-size bed. “These.” A pair of black jeans followed. “And these.” A black flat bounced off the deep purple comforter seconds before its companion smacked the blinds of the window behind me.

  “Hey!” I said, gathering the clothes into a pile. I’d sort of feared she’d produce something sheer, short, or unreasonably sparkly from my meager selection of plain tank tops and jeans. But I could handle this outfit.

  “Sometimes I wonder about you, Asha.” Criseyde turned back to the mirror to touch up her eyeliner. “You can buy cute clothes for cheap too. I do it all the time. I got this shirt for five dollars.”

  “I like to be comfortable. I’m not comfortable in heels. Or sparkles. I’ve assigned you the Peacock Star, you know.”

  She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I’ll do your makeup?”

  “I’ll do my makeup.”

  “Fine.”

  I changed into the outfit she’d chosen. The tight jeans were fine, but the tank top ended a couple inches above the waistband. Now I remembered why I’d stopped wearing it.

  Before I could protest, not that Criseyde would have listened, she bounded over to me with hair products in hand. “Sit down, you tall minx.” I obeyed, studying the sequins on her shirt as
she gathered my dark brown waves into a messy ponytail at the crown of my head. She fluffed it up a bit and sprayed a cloud of toxic fumes.

  I coughed and waved a hand in front of my face. “Can’t . . . breathe . . .”

  “Oh, hush. Asha, I really think I should do your makeup. I’ll only use a little.”

  “I think a little means something different to you.”

  “Please?”

  Since I didn’t really care either way, I let her work her magic. When she was done, I had on mascara and a thick coat of black eyeliner that transformed my light hazel eyes into those of a gothic heroine. My hairdo exposed my long, narrow face and there was a sweep of glittery blush along the dusky skin of my cheekbones. I liked it.

  “If only Les could see you now,” Cris said theatrically.

  “Hey!” My eyes darted around the room, as if someone might actually be hiding somewhere, eavesdropping. “He might hear you,” I hissed.

  “Sorry. But not really. Seriously, you should just jump his bones already.”

  “If only,” I sighed.

  Criseyde grabbed her shiny red purse. “His loss. Are you ready to go?”

  We hopped down the narrow, windowless hall. It opened up to the kitchen and small dining room on the left, the living room on the right, a support wall separating the two areas. Ivory and Les were in the living room, sprawled around the TV, as they usually were. I could already feel a blush creeping along my cheekbones under the makeup Criseyde had used. But it didn’t matter, because Les didn’t even look away from the news. I stared at his neat profile and watched his lips meet the rim of his coffee mug.

  “. . . a recent increase in vampire-related deaths. Is this the end?” I glanced at the TV, where a skeptical reporter turned to interview a girl on the street. “They’re not killers,” the deluded girl insisted.

  “Where are you going?” Ivory asked.

  I pulled my attention away from the news and answered him in a defensive tone. “To a club.”

  “What club?”

  “Stars,” Criseyde answered.

  She flounced out the door but Ivory stopped me before I could follow her. “I don’t like this, Ash. Yes, I know you’re an adult and I can’t stop you, so just be careful. You know what’s out there.”

  “Yeah. I will.”

  With one last glance at Les, I left the house and ran down the driveway to catch up with Criseyde. She’d already started the car and turned the music up loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

  “Are we really going to Stars?” I asked. I’d heard about the club, which was one of the biggest and most popular in the city.

  “Nope.”

  “Where, then?”

  “It’s called Shiver.”

  I hadn’t heard of that one. “Well. Sounds interesting.”

  We drove out of the neighborhoods, past strip malls that advertised brightly in the dark, and headed downtown. Tall dark buildings surrounded us, offices and shops that closed right before the sun set. Streetlights lined the sidewalks with comforting frequency.

  Soon, however, we left clean, well-lit areas and the most popular clubs behind, and ventured into a darker part of town. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, eyeing abandoned businesses and trash-strewn alleys. I double-checked the door locks.

  “We’re going to get mugged and killed,” I said. “Vampires are going to drink our blood. I should have listened to Ivory. I could have been discovering a comet right now.”

  “Well, this place is supposed to be cool. I’ll park right in front, even if it’s metered, so we won’t have to walk far.”

  The vampire scare had died down somewhat in the year since the quarantine. Vampires were still a threat, but people liked their routines. They worked, they shopped, and they went out. Even at night. People were willing to risk a bite because everyone knew by now that vampires didn’t usually kill their victims. If they did, soon there wouldn’t be any blood left, and then they’d have to leave. Apparently, vampires liked life in Las Secas.

  “Hey, here we are,” Cris said.

  “Where? Here?”

  The street was deserted, no cars or people in the immediate area. The buildings surrounding us, mismatched in size, were dark. Lights glowed down the road in either direction, but they were too far to do us any good. I stepped cautiously out of the car and saw a small, faded neon blue sign advertising Shiver. There was no line, no distant pulse of music, or any other evidence that people were actually inside.

  Then a tiny orange light flared in the shadows around the door. Gradually a form took shape, that of a man leaning against the wall. A pale ribbon of smoke floated away from him. It was impossible to tell but he seemed to be watching us. He probably was, since we were the only other people in sight. The feel of his gaze was disconcerting. I turned to Criseyde for reassurance, but she was already sashaying over to him, beckoning me to follow with twirling red fingernails.

  As we approached the man, he flicked his cigarette away and straightened up to face us. He was dressed in dark clothes and had dark hair except for what might have been a streak of blue hanging over his white face.

  “Hello,” he said, drawing the word out suggestively.

  “Spare me,” Cris said dryly, though her smile was flirtatious, as usual. “Can we get in already?”

  “You are welcome, of course.”

  We walked past the guy, who gestured invitingly for us to enter. I held his glittering eyes for one uneasy moment, then slipped into the building behind my friend. We headed down a curving hall glowing with lights such a dark pink they were nearly red. I began to hear hints of music, a low steady sound that promised wild thrashing and sweat glistening on skin. I pressed my lips together to keep from squealing with excitement. Suddenly I was glad I had come.

  At the end of the hall was a large, studded metal door. Cris pushed it open and music blasted us in the face. We stood on a high iron platform, vibrating with sound, which overlooked a crush of dancing bodies beneath us. Crazy beams of colored light bounced off metal walls and caged dancers with elaborate hairstyles. I felt so underdressed and out of place but I knew once I got in the middle of it all no one would notice or care.

  “Let's dance!” Cris cried, her voice an imagined sound in the loudness.

  We hurried down the stairs and pressed into the self-absorbed dancers, holding hands so we wouldn't lose each other. Amazingly we found a space just big enough for the two of us and we let loose, spinning and surging with the beat. The white streaks in Criseyde's ash brown hair caught the colors of the lights. Strands from my ponytail stuck on my glossed lips. We grinned at each other. I closed my eyes and raised my arms above my head while I swayed.

  When I opened them a few seconds later I found myself looking at a man who was staring back at me, a slight smile on his face. He wasn't moving. Slightly perturbed, I glanced away and quickly realized no one was moving besides Cris and me. A circle had formed around us and everyone stared. They all looked like they knew something we didn't. Their eyes glittered with something dark, something savage . . .

  Hunger.

  Oh no. Oh no.

  “Cris,” I said urgently, tugging her arm so she'd come close to me. “Cris, we have to leave now.”

  “We just got here,” she complained.

  “I know, but we need to get out—”

  Suddenly she jerked away from me. Someone had broken the circle to grab her other arm. I lunged after her but now someone had hold of me. The circle tightened and we were pushed back and forth, toyed with, helpless as dolls.

  It was frighteningly clear we would never survive the night.

  I was pushed again and stumbled backward. Then a hand fell on my shoulder, steadying me. I turned instinctively, expecting another shove, but the hand stayed in place and I was looking into a pair of violet eyes. They were set in a long, narrow face, shadowed by a curtain of straight black hair. The tall, thin man had a soft mouth and a solemn jaw. I recoiled from him, not liking the dead intensity of
his eyes, but then I realized I saw something questioning in them. Something like what was in my own.

  Because I could have sworn I knew this man, even though I was sure I had never seen him before.

  There was no time to analyze it, though. He grabbed me and started to pull me out of the circle. I didn't think, just went with him, because I wanted to get away, get out of the club. I stretched an arm back for Criseyde and felt her fingers reaching for me. We gripped each other tightly, desperately, because the man meant to take only me and leave her behind. I pulled her close and hooked my elbow with hers as the man cleared a path out of the crowd. Then he was behind us somehow, urging us down the pink hall to the front door, Cris and I tripping over each other's feet in our haste to breathe the night air.

  On the sidewalk in front of Shiver Criseyde fumbled for her keys and I turned to the man, our rescuer. He stared at me with narrowed eyes, icy and lifeless, hands in the pockets of his black jeans. He was dark and beautiful. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

  I swallowed, unnerved at his silence. “I . . .”

  “Asha, come on!” Criseyde cried from inside the car.

  “What are you doing here?” the man asked, his voice low and almost-smooth.

  “Dancing,” I said, confused. “That's all we wanted to do.”

  “You need to be careful.”

  “I will,” I said truthfully. Who was this man? Why did I think I had seen him before?

  “Ash!”

  “I have to go,” I said, backing away. “Thanks, for, um . . . Thanks.”

  I spun from him and jumped in the car, slamming the door shut. I stared at the guy through the window as Criseyde sped away, tires squealing. Fear and intrigue quickened my heartbeat. Cris was babbling about what had just happened, by turns angry and relieved. I sat there in silence, picturing the man's face, trying to connect it with some time, some memory . . . It was so close, but I couldn't grasp it.