Dawn's Darkest Hour

David eased into his seat just as the bell shrilly buzzed and students scrambled to their desks. "Hi," he whispered back. How long had it been since he'd made a young girl blush? "Get your homework done?"

Rachael frowned, "Sort of." She pulled the half completed assignment sheet out of her English book and smoothed the rumpled edges. "Doesn't matter, I've got enough English credits to graduate anyway." Shrugging at David's, God he was so gorgeous, raised eyebrow, she added, "I guess I wasn't in the mood last night."

David smirked and pulled his homework loose from the binder. "I guess," he added smugly, "I was."

Rachael snorted and turned her attention to Ms. Temple. "Good for you," she muttered snidely. "Jane Austen sucks ass."

David stifled a hoot as he passed his completed homework to the girl collecting the assignments. "I never said she didn't." He grinned and glanced at a blushing Rachael out of the corner of his eye. She smiled back at him appreciatively. Somewhere in their shared hatred of nineteenth century literature and the pretentious Mr. Darcy, he'd found a friend.

Nora rolled her eyes at the dismal display of student effort piled on her desk. Sometimes she wondered exactly why she was here. Nobody paid any attention to her anyway. The students didn't complete half of the homework she assigned them. Their parents didn't care if their children learned or not, as long as they passed her class. Sometimes her job was thankless and bleak. Shaping young minds that didn't want to be shaped. Her mother wanted her to go into nursing. Maybe, looking back, she should have. "Ok, if we can cut the chatter in the back of the room and move forward into the dazzling psyche of Miss Elisabeth Bennett."

Chapter 18

The perpetual noise of the woodshop made business transactions easy. The

instructor was distracted by a runt of a kid, an underclassman, who'd made a pretty good attempt at removing his right index finger with a band saw. Dumb. Ass. Cole had plenty of time to deliver the product weighing down his pockets and line them with his favorite thing, besides the vials of pink, cold hard cash. "I got a brand new shipment in last night," he whispered to one of his buddies as he walked past.

"Cool," the kid nodded in appreciation. Hero worship. Cole loved it. He lived for it. "How much?" Hell the kid already had his fist buried into the side pocket of the expensive jeans his mommy and daddy shelled out big bucks for.

"Twenty," Cole replied. The bill was crisp in his palm, filling the empty space left by the exchange. He was a businessman in his heart of hearts and he loved the smell and feel of money balled up in his fist. He wasn't a mule. He didn't traffic his product for anybody and then end up with a measly pittance as reward. Hell. No.

Cole purchased the stuff direct from the supplier, for a fraction of what he actually charged his eager consumers. Once he got the stock home, he divvied it up into the small glass vials and hit the street with his product. His fingers brushed the wad of cash in his hip pocket as he added another twenty to the stack.

Business was booming these days. He was careful and shrewd. The faculty, the students, and the cops that cased the school grounds were clueless. Popularity was the key to his success. First period, he spent with the Greasers in shop. Second period, he slept through Advanced Calculus with the Preppys. Third period, he hit the gym with the Jocks. Fourth period, he flirted with the pretty boys in Choir. He ate lunch with the cheerleaders and their fan club. Fifth period he had English Comp to blend in with the ordinary students. Sixth period he had Spanish class with the Spics. To put an end to his productive day, seventh period, he plunked away at the keyboards with the Techno-tards in Computer Science class.

He had a wide and varied clientele. All his bases were covered. Just to be sure, he volunteered to be on the school's Drug Task Force. The principal had no idea how pink was getting into his school. Cole had him busy chasing his tail. Staying ahead of the former, sexy as hell English teacher's ex, Mr. English teacher, was simple enough. Mr. Temple was too busy tidying up the scandal behind his messy divorce to worry too much about what new drug was infiltrating his school.

Cole was loaded with the green stuff. And the pink stuff, flowed from his pocket to an eager paying hand like water. Even if he did get caught, it wasn't like he had anybody to sell out. His supplier was even more careful than he was.

They made arrangements from a string of gas station pay phones. They met in dark places that not even the cops dared to tread. He didn't ever get a good look at the guy who handed him the backpack week after week. Theirs was a brief exchange, cash for product. Hell, Cole didn't even know the guy's name. He just took the product. Gave the guy the cash, and got the hell out of Dodge.

Every week the pick up location and the phone number changed. Cole was fanatical with numbers. He never had to write them down. Not once, had he forgotten a single digit. The money was too important. The cash was his ticket out of this hellhole and to a better life. Someplace. Anyplace other than here, was good.

Chapter 19

O'Sullivan watched the sleepy city surrounding him waken to another day. Could his life get any better? He had pockets lined with cash. If he wanted to he could use wads of hundred dollar bills as kindling for his fireplace. Beautiful women catered to his every whim and desire without a second's worth of hesitation. The city reflected the dawn's light like a juicy ripe red apple ready for picking. He held the bounty in his palm.

Today the mighty Carter had fallen, like Sampson to Delilah. Did anyone even know how low he'd sunk yet? Yessette had certainly proven worth the trouble of keeping around all these years. Carter was helpless as a newborn baby against her numerous charms. The city was his. He watched his manservant draw the drapes over the golden hue of morning. With smug satisfaction, he gave the world a last glance as he stepped back from the high window of his private quarters. Oh yes, life was very, very sweet.

Lunch period and hell were synonymous as far as Rachael was concerned. Ignoring the hunger rattling in her stomach, she shuffled over to her usual hiding place in the far corner of the cafeteria. Fat girls did not eat lunch. Ever. She wasn't fat, not anymore. High school kids were too quick to label their fellow students and move on to more interesting people. Which, Rachael was not. Having more than a stick girl figure at the beginning of her freshman year had earned her the endearing title of chuncker and it still stuck. So, rather than endure the humiliation of the stares at the lunch line, she suffered in quiet resignation.

Breakfast had been a nutrition bar snatched hurriedly out of the cupboard on the way to the bus stop. Even the reeking stink of bad cafeteria food smelled heavenly and made her mouth water. The diet soda in her hand tasted flat and bitter against her tongue. The drink did nothing to curb the emptiness in her stomach. Nevertheless, she gave into teenage angst and dug a novel out of her backpack, knowing she'd forget how hungry she was once she started reading.

Her brain wouldn't let her focus on the pages today. Her grades were slipping and so was her chance to slide under the radar and get out from under her parents' thumbs. The uncompleted English assignment and the D- she got on her Calculus test weren't going to help her plea her case. Rod and Amy wouldn't understand that she had much more important things to tend to than earning high school credits she didn't really need. Somehow she doubted a vampire would want to engage in solving mathematical equations with her.

She turned away from the distraction of the crowd around her and forced herself to pick through the next paragraph. What she needed to know was in these books. Some would call her obsessive reading an escape from reality. To her, these books represented what reality really was. Death.

Her quest had started out by reading fanciful fiction. Romance books where the leading men were not only cool and incredibly sexy, but also vampires. She knew better. If she didn't, she might actually enjoy what she was reading. Usually, she skimmed through the mush and dug for the facts buried under all the fluff. No matter what the storyline or how sexy the hero or how evil the villain, there were two constants. Vampires needed blood to live and vampires could die.

David didn't bother going through the rouse of feigning interest in the putrid waste the cafeteria staff was passing off as lunch. He looked for Rachael as he waded through the crowd of students mulling about in the line. He found her sitting on a bench in a forgotten corner of the cafeteria with all the other forgotten students. Ten years ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about her. Rachael would have been one of the invisible. He would have walked on by her completely oblivious. Today, he plopped down in the empty seat next to her and peeked between her fingers at the cover of the book. "More research?"

Rachael looked up, surprised to see David. "Huh? Oh yeah. Research." She tried to jerk the book away as he snatched it out of her hands. "Hey, you lost my place," she whined.

David flipped the book open and skimmed through a paragraph. Snickering, he read the next paragraph. So this is how the media portrayed his kind. He wasn't sure. But, he was pretty sure he'd never sparkled in the sunlight. "So why research the undead?" he asked as he marked her place and handed the book back to her.

Rachael shrugged and stuffed the book deep into her backpack. She didn't know David very well, certainly not well enough to share her secrets with him. He was cute though. But, if he found out about what she was up to, just like everybody else, he'd never talk to her again. She didn't want to blow her chances with him. "Class project," she mumbled quickly. Slouching against the hard edge of the table behind her, she buried her burning cheeks in the collar of her hooded sweatshirt.

David raised an eyebrow at Rachael's hastily mumbled answer. "Must be an interesting class." He leaned back to match her position and stared out over the chattering students. "You know that book is totally inaccurate," he said in a knowing tone. He didn't know what Rachael's fascination with vampires was, but he didn't like it. If she ever got a clue that they really existed, she could get herself into big trouble.

"What do you mean?" Rachael asked, nudging her face out from behind a layer of pink fleece.

"Everybody knows that vampires blow up in the sunlight," David answered casually. After all, he was an expert on the subject. The truth was that sunlight didn't do shit to a vampire, not really. Direct sunlight was damned uncomfortable on the peepers and maybe it would kill a vampire if he got caught out in it without a good pair of Raybans and was stupid enough to stumble out in front of a speeding commuter train or something. Rachael didn't need to know that though. The further he could keep her away from the truth, the better, for both of them.

"Quit making fun," Rachael scowled and shrank back into the balled up hood of her sweatshirt like a turtle into its shell.

"I'm not," David retorted. "Really." He sighed and swung one of his long legs over the bench, straddling it. "There's nothing funny about vampires." Her skin was warm, intolerably so, against his fingers cupped her chin to turn her face toward his. In that moment, he saw everything that had been taken away from him reflected in the youth of her wide green eyes. He wouldn't let anything happen to her. Ever. He needed her to stay innocent more than she could ever imagine. Gently, he pushed her hood back away from her face and smoothed stray blonde strands charged with static from her cheek. "Maybe you should read books about zombies or something."

Rachael blushed furiously against the softness of David's touch. His fingers were very careful as they worried over a few out of control hairs. His eyes were almost black, like pools of ink against the pallor of his skin. So much pain and regret hidden behind their obsidian surface. "You believe me," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of the crowd.

"The vampires in your books do not exist Rachael," David said, balling his fingers into a fist. The tips burned where they'd come into contact with her skin. Her eagerness and vivaciousness, also the sudden mood swings into sullenness reminded him so much of his sister. Hurt registered on her face. Better for her to be disappointed than to believe in a world to which she didn't belong.

Rachael fingered the pull tag on her zipper and avoided David's eyes. They'd faded into their usual muddy brown color. "No, they don't," she agreed. Before she could elaborate on her theories about vampires. The bell, announcing the end of lunch period, rang in a shrill, tooth-grinding buzz. Hurriedly, she gathered her backpack and slung it over her right shoulder. "I'll see you later."

David watched Rachael disappear into the crowd wearily ambling their way to the exit. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. The motion was so subtle, nobody else could have seen it, but he did. Two boys milled around, well hidden from the teacher's view by the herd of students. A wad of crumpled bills passed from one hand to another. The bills disappeared into one of the boy's jeans pockets and a vial, tightly clutched in his fingers slid into the other boy's empty palm. Sunlight from the wide bank of cafeteria windows glinted off the sparkles in the tiny vial. David witnessed the transaction from beneath veiled eyes. Finally, he had his mark.

Chapter 20

Nora crossed her arms and leaned against the steel door barring the exit from the cafeteria. It was her day to play head zookeeper. Patrolling the cafeteria and keeping the fragile peace between students was a chore she hated with a passion. Today was no different. Luckily, there weren't any fights to break up. Most of the boys were twice her size and if it came down to putting herself between two warring teenage boys, she wasn't sure she was up to the challenge. These days, she didn't seem to be up to much of anything and the school year had just started. She was already exhausted and counting the days till Christmas break.

She knew exactly what her problem was. How could she not? The unsolicited members of the Nora Temple fan club told her everyday. She needed to get laid. According to her closest friends, which were precious few, and her graying mother, she needed a good old-fashioned romp in the sack. That would be great if it weren't for the fact that her ex had seen to it that any man, all men precisely, left a bad taste in her mouth.

She grew up in this neighborhood. Taught at the very same school she'd attended and lived in the same block where she'd spent her childhood. Everything should have been perfect. Her husband taught freshman math just down the hall from her. They rode to work together and ate lunch together. He golfed every Saturday while she ran errands and visited her mother. Looking back, she shouldn't have been so clueless. She should have seen the signs. The subtle glances and the shushed rumors whispered behind her back. She hadn't seen it coming because she didn't want to. The illusion of a perfect life was too endearing to let go of.

Fortunately for her, her ex in his kindness had kept his affair secret. At least from her, till after he got the promotion to school principal and filed for divorce. He moved on to a bigger and better house, and took his mistress, the girl's soccer coach, with him. She was left behind with the house, the payments, and the remnants of her shattered dreams.

Nora kept her married name for continuity's sake and did the best she could to move forward. Dating had proven to be a bigger disaster the second time around than it had been in her teens. She simply didn't get what made a man think buying her dinner and paying for a movie gave him rights to get into her pants. Even as adults, guys were still guys and they still played the same old tricks. Discouraged, she quickly gave up on the dating game and settled for quiet evenings alone with her cat and a good book.

She couldn't figure out what caused the twinge of jealousy in her gut when she saw her new student David and Rachael sitting so close. He was a teenage boy and just thinking about him the way that she was, was illegal in all fifty states. There was something about him. About his mannerisms when he thought nobody was looking and he let his guard slip for a split second that reminded her so much her David. Or the David she might have had if she'd ever worked up the courage to speak to him back then.

Her mind traveled down the dangerous path of what might have been if. Could she have talked David out of going into the city the night he disappeared? What would have happened if he'd stayed in the suburbs instead? Would he still be alive if she'd only worked up the courage to ask him out instead of playing shy and snubbing him? God. She couldn't blame herself for what had happened to him. Or what everyone guessed had happened. In the end, talking to him or not talking to him wouldn't have changed a thing. David was dead and she could contemplate herself to death, but it wouldn't bring him back.

The last of the students filtered out of the grungy cafeteria. Nora slammed the doors shut behind them and gathered her composure. What bothered her the most about David's disappearance was that there'd never be an opportunity for closure in her mind. If he'd graduated and gone on with his life, she would have accepted that. But, knowing that he never got the chance. That all she had were the daydreams of some sort of magical happy ending for the boy she'd once secretly loved. His life had been cut too short and that left too many open spaces and blank pages. Somewhere, in the back of her battered psyche, she still believed that he was out there just waiting for her to find him. Maybe that was why she'd never worked up the heart to let him go, because to her, he wasn't really gone.

David relied on his hunter's instincts to guide him closer to his prey. School wasn't important all of a sudden, getting to the little prick peddling poison was. He pushed against the shuffling crowd filtering through the exit from the cafeteria like a salmon forcing its way against the current. Muttered curses and an occasional thump with a heavy backpack and a few crunched toes weren't going to deter him.

The boys lingered in the back of the cafeteria, casually exchanging random punches with one another and jeering at their fellow classmates. In this damned room, David couldn't isolate their scents from the stink of taco Tuesday and the numerous smells radiating off too many bodies crushed into too small of a space. The boys slid behind the stainless steel counter and snuck through a swinging door that led to the kitchen. He sped up his pace, carelessly ramming his way though the students. Now was just as good of a time as any for a little heart to heart.

Nora's eyes locked on the student fighting his way against the crowd. His body posture was tense. Shoulders drawn back, fingers curled into fists, jaw set hard, and his eyes, locked on the two boys that had just disappeared behind the kitchen door. So much for not having any fights on her watch. David was almost to the door when she caught up with him and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. The two boys were bad, bad news and she wasn't going to be responsible for the new kid getting his ass handed to him by the thugs. She'd deal with them for cutting through the kitchen later. Right now she was just after him. "Mr. Russ, the exit is this way," she breathed out, struggling to still her trembling fingers. Violence, even the threat of violence had always frightened her.