Darkness lurks beneath the surface of society, something that has been growing and devouring the innocent for decades. Luna Aurion stumbles on a human farm under the streets of a supposedly peaceful human city, but before she can report back, she is...
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The desert nomads were kind to his people when they arrived, bringing them clothes but making sure to give them space as was needed. Most of the slave women had lived in isolation or with a few other females to keep them helpless and dependent, so they feared men regardless of species. Vice had predicted that and saw to homing them with the nomad women who had volunteered. At first, no one knew what was happening, but Ezra had assured them each step of the way that the masters were gone and that they were safe now.
It wasn't something they would believe overnight, as he himself was waiting to die. Sure, they had some pity for slave humans, but Ezra doubted they would feel such for Rastos remaining legacy who'd done nothing but forcibly bed women for his entire life. What place was there for him anywhere?
The sun had set finally, his people were settled in houses of cloth under an overhang in the desert, and Ezra sat outside on a rock awaiting his headsman. It was warm in the desert still, but the chill would set over the sands as the moon rose higher, and he supposed it was as adequate a place as any for his grave. Vice had taken the few slave vampires they'd had somewhere else, and Vice had opted to remain here with his people.
This was where he would prefer to die. In nature, within hearing distance of the softer voices as they explored their new world. Such things as clothes and food already had some delighted to tears, and the younger ones were learning games with the nomad children. There were rough times ahead for all of them, but for now the newness and protection was peaceful.
Even as Vice's dark energy returned and stood behind him, Ezra didn't care to look his death in the eyes. If he didn't see it coming, that was all right. Part of him wanted to be with Natalie, to have her be the final thing he saw, but this was enough. It was greedy to think he deserved a place by her side, and he closed his eyes to listen to the shallow desert winds as they added a tepid music to the background of the laughter and tears ahead of him in the village.
"Ez-ra," a timid female voice said his name, and his eyes snapped open. Over the years, he forgot faces and voices but only as they were replaced with others. This one he knew, the one who'd cried and begged them not to leave her with that vampire, who'd died under the fledgling's fangs with tears in her eyes and a hollowed look of fear and confusion.
That was the only time she'd spoken, to beg for her life. And what had it done for her.
"Ezra," Vice said his name, but he still didn't turn. "This is Dawn. When I told her we had taken in your people, she insisted upon seeing you. The least you can do is face her."
Ezra turned, though only from the guilt, and his eyes sank to Vice's chest level where the girl's height ended. She'd always been so small, behind the rest of the humans in development, and that had been her death. Because of that, she was now a monster like him.
"Do you like the name 'Dawn'?" Ezra asked, knowing she had been given little choice about much in her life.
Dawn fidgeted, tugging on a patch of dark curls that she had pinned to the side of her head before tilting her head and smiling. It glowed into her eyes, showing how much she loved it, and it eased tears out of Ezra's eyes to see she was okay, unafraid and acclimating. Lifting her small hand into a fist, she bobbed it, and a smile lifted his lips. They often used signs rather than speech and she was still unused to speaking.
