Page 29 of No One’s Daughter

​“Maybe she’s wearing a sun stone,” Marlette asked.

​“She’s not,” he said, eyes narrowing on me once again. “I made sure to check.”

​“What the fuck are you halfwits talking about,” I spat out, getting really bored of this game. “Is this some inside joke I’m not privy to? Like, am I seriously supposed to be scared about you opening the blinds? What’s behind them? Rats?”

​He laughed, actually full on belly laughed. “I think this one’s lost her marbles.”

​Marlette reached the window and slowly pulled on the little cord allowing the tiniest sliver of sunlight to stream into the cell and against my face. It must have been a sunny day, the way even that little gleam of light bathed the cell in an amber glow, dust mites dancing in the shaft of light. And this time I laughed.

​I figured the myths and whatnot humans told about vampires not being able to go out in the light had to have been planted, fabricated, because I’d encountered no problems walking in the daylight. In fact, until this very moment I hadn’t even given it a second thought. The sunlight felt warm against my cheeks and I bathed in the comfort of it. But by the way these two were acting, I supposed I was wrong. But that only led me to more questions. Why could I walk in the sun? According to the reactions these two gave… that shouldn’t have been possible without a sun stone.

​“It’s not possible,” Marlette whispered, opening the blinds further as though trying to prove a point.

​More light streamed in and I winced at the onslaught of it. Sure, it blinded me, but that was because of the brightness of it, not because it hurt or burned. Silence echoed through the room as though the very air had been stolen from our lungs. And they just stared at me, their expressions unreadable.

​The guy took a step back, all of the smugness on his face evaporated, and his face paled, etched in a look I couldn’t quite place. Fear? Worry? Something else? I really didn’t know.

​“She can’t be here,” Marlette said at last. But he just stared at me, and when he didn’t respond, she repeated herself, this time divulging his name. “Davien, she can’t be here. You need to turn her in before this comes down on us.”

​While I appreciated the change from their threats, I had more worrying questions rising to the front of my mind. Turn me in to whom? Why were they suddenly so fearful?

​“What’s going on?” I asked. “Who’s they?”

​Marlette scrunched her brows as she took me in again, then her eyes flew to Davien as he exited the cell, locking it behind him again. There were so many unspoken words there, I was sure of it.

​“She stays here, if anyone so much as looks at her, they’ll answer to me,” Davien threatened, then proceeded to instruct Marlette to shut the blinds and destroy the file with my information. To my surprise, she did as he told her. Then they were both gone, and yet another door was locked.

​Leaving me all alone.

Part of me wanted to beg them not to leave me here, the other part of me was terrified of them. Maybe I should tell them everything that had happened, maybe they could make sense of it.

Maybe they’d help me.

Or.

Maybe they’d kill me.

How the fuck was I going to get out of this.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Davien

SHE CAN’T BE,” I muttered, the words slipping out under my breath as I stepped into the weapons room, Marlette close behind me.

​The door sealed shut, shutting out the rest of the safe house and leaving us in the cold ordered space I knew too well.

​It was functional. Racks of weapons lined the walls—blades of varying lengths, firearms meticulously arranged, everything within reach, ready to be used. A steel table sat at the centre, its surface scarred faintly from years of use. I pressed my palm into it, trying to calm the storm building in my head.

​Fuck.

​I flexed my hands, the sharp click of my knuckles cracking echoed faintly as I began to pace the room, the need to move rising within me. I knew that logically I should hand her over—that was my job after all. Report it. Hand her over. Walk away.

​But there was something about her.

​What if it really was her.

​After a century of chasing shadows and half-truths, what if she’d been the one I’d been looking for. Waiting for.