Before Sunrise

Chapter One

“A Chance Encounter”

            Yes, it was a night much like this. I can recall it as if it were yesterday, the events being so clear in my mind even today, though the reasons behind my exploration and curiosity are only visible through a foggy haze now. No matter how hard I try to uncover the truth behind them or at least cut through the fog to glimpse more than a blur, my attempts fail time and again as if I’m at the end of a dark tunnel and can see the light up ahead, but cannot reach it. Nevertheless, I keep trying, hoping that the darkness will be behind me one day instead of around me.

            It was the night before my twenty-sixth year when I ventured off to locate a night dweller, if only to get a glimpse from closer than three stories up so that I could peer into a world unlike my own. For that was usually the distance that one could see one of them from, no one dared edge closer. Perhaps they feared that if they did put less distance between them, they too would become tainted with the darkness. Civilized folk treated it as one would a contagious disease, by keeping their distance.  Others were content with ignorance, telling themselves that such creatures did not exist and by that asinine belief perhaps sealed their own fate and made themselves a suitable target for the more sadistic ones.

            For it was the ones who found so much pleasure in the infliction of pain and humiliation that picked out the disbelievers to prey upon, as I learned later on. A longer hunt for them, I suppose, and a sweeter taste at their victory. They once told me, that is was the skeptics and the disbelievers who tasted so sweet upon the first droplet of blood drawn. Mainly because of the length of the chase and the slow process as they toyed with them, slowly forcing them to cast aside their beliefs and prayers as those very same skeptics came face to face with the very beings they believed not to exist in the first place. Must be frightful, I imagine, to have your fears manifest right in front of you and everything you have believed merely a fabrication. I wonder if those individuals go insane right before death steps in.

            I’ll never know, though, the answer to that. My life has been spared more times than I care to remember by those that seemed to inflict death upon my kind as if it were holy water being sprinkled delicately about their heads to christen them. I suppose in a way, the ones chosen to satisfy the bloodlust, should be thankful since death takes them rather quickly. I’m sure, in a way, that it’s better than wasting away slowly as one does with cancer or some other degenerative disease. Yes, most of the night crawlers did not purposely delay death upon their victims but simply wasted no time taking what they needed from them. There were a few though, that found some indescribable pleasure in watching their prey slowly succumb to the inevitable demise of their existence. Those were the ones to watch out for. But they were also the ones to learn from.

            I remember walking out the front door that night, out into the dampness of the city. A storm had just finished its assault on the town and was passing so the stones beneath my feet were wet and slippery causing my movements to slow from the usual brisk pace I normally moved with. Most of the pedestrians had moved out of the soaked streets and into the confines of the buildings lining them so only a few scattered souls moved about outside. I had no idea how long I had been walking but by the time I noticed my solitude, I also realized I had no idea as to where I was. It was then that I began cursing myself for not paying attention to the path in front of me and instead letting my mind wander aimlessly as it sometimes did. It had gotten me into many sticky situations in the past but nothing as bad as this.

            Looking around me, I noticed that not one of the buildings struck me as familiar and that the streetlamps were becoming increasingly scarce as the road went on ahead. I could hear nothing but the eerie sounds of crickets as they sang their nightly song and began turning in a circle to attempt to determine my position in the city but stopped soon after as I realized it was hopeless. Turning with slumped shoulders, I looked to the corner which was not far from where I stood. A single streetlamp illuminated the curved walkway which disappeared behind an old, cracked building. The light was not much but it was sufficient to better view my surroundings so without giving it anymore thought, I walked to it, not bothering to pick up my skirts so as to keep them dry. I suppose, with the click of my shoes along the path, it made it nearly impossible to hear any other footfalls in the vicinity.

            So it was with great surprise that I was met with an oncoming passerby, as one would have called him, as he reached the street corner at roughly the same time as I. Unfortunately I did not see him until it was too late and our bodies collided with such a force that I felt as if my soul departed from my body for a split second. But at the time, the very idea of that was a impossibility and I found myself landing on my derriere instead, rather ungracefully I might add. I can’t recall what I felt at that moment when I fell to the ground, whether it was surprise or rage at the fact that my skirts were now fully soiled and the repetitious thumping pain in my rear end would no doubt leave a bruise, but I do remember that I just sat there for a moment looking down at the ground with my hands splayed on the stones beside my hips. The first thing I remember turning my gaze on was a pair of black shoes coming to stand directly in front of me. They were shiny, so much so that I could see my reflection in them if I stared hard enough. The black pants that seemed perfectly tailored as they brushed the wearer’s shoes ever so slightly were pristine, with not a wrinkle in sight. But what finally snapped me out of my daydream and captured my attention was neither the man’s exquisite taste in clothing nor his choice of footwear, but simply it was the soft click made by his dark accessory as it touched down upon the ground when he stopped before me.

            My eyes locked onto the black stick even before a gloved hand made its way into my vision to offer me help.

“Pardon me,” said a voice that seemed to float melodically downward to my ears. “It seems I’ve made you soil that lovely gown of yours.”

Instantly my gaze darted upward to rest upon the stranger’s face and I was slightly taken aback by how starkly beautiful it was. Devoid of the baby fat one possesses in youth, his face was supremely constructed complete with high cheekbones and a breathtaking pair of eyes that appeared to be pools of the clearest blue one could hope to have. They were almond-shaped and framed with an abundance of dark lashes that normally would have seemed out of place on a face so lightly hued, but on him they added a touch of darkness to an otherwise ethereal canvas making him far more interesting to look at. His hair, of a dark chestnut color, was pulled back from his face in a severe ponytail that had fallen over his shoulder as he leaned down slightly, extending to me his hand.

“Oh, that’s…quite alright,” I managed to reply as I reached for his hand, outfitted in a bright white glove.

“Nonsense,” he said, wrapping his fingers around mine and pulling upward, “at least let me repair the damages.”

His hand released mine as soon as I was securely on my feet and he reached beneath the front of his black coat to pull out a small pouch. Extracting several coins from its cavity, he held them between his thumb and forefinger and motioned for me to hold out my hand.

“It’s not necessary, really,” I said, trying to wave off the stranger’s offer.

The man, if judged by appearances seemed no older than ten years my senior, looked surprised by this and arched an eyebrow in what seemed a disdainful manner.

“A lady not accepting a gentleman’s offer to make up for an action that has wronged her? Forgive me, but is that not considered rude behavior in this society?” He asked tersely, as if he were greatly offended by her rejection of his offer.

“Actually it was very kind of you to offer, sir. Thank you,” I answered.

“I was referring to yours,” he replied in a serious tone.

“Oh,” I said, feeling like the fool. “Yes, well, my apologies then if I offended you. I suppose I’m just not the type to take money from strangers.”

His face seemed to relax a bit at this, as if my explanation was satisfactory and he blinked slowly while taking a step backward.

“Yes, of course,” he said, nodding a bit. He then took in a deep breath and after exhaling it slowly through his nose, leaned on his cane and tilted his head slightly.

“So what is a young lady such as yourself doing out this late on such a lonely street as this?” He inquired, his hand gesturing quickly to the quiet surroundings.

“Well, to be frank, I’m lost,” I answered, hoping perhaps he could tell me the way home or at least, where I was.

“Oh?” he asked, arching his brow curiously. My answer must have sparked his interest for he seemed to perk up more after that.

“Yes, I went out…for a walk earlier and lost myself in thought. Before long I found myself here and was just figuring out which way to go when I ran into you,” I replied.

I considered the possibility that informing him of my being lost could turn out to be a bad idea. After all, I had never seen this man before nor did I know anything about him. But I came to the quick conclusion that it may also point me in the right direction back to where I came. I had decided I would rather tell a stranger that I was lost and ask if he knew the way back then to lie and keep wandering on my own only to find myself even more hopelessly lost than before.

The man looked about quickly as if searching for something, then turned his attention back to me.

“You came from the east, did you not?” he asked, glancing down the way I came.

“Yes,” I confirmed, “I don’t think I’m too far away from home, perhaps a mile, for I haven’t been walking that long.”

“And you ran into no one but me?” he inquired with a miniscule amount of disbelief.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “It’s not that surprising though. Not many people walk out in the rain.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he replied with a tiny smile.

“Why are you walking so late? Shouldn’t you be in a carriage?” I asked, looking at his attire.

“On my way home,” he answered, holding the ebony cane up in his right hand, “I tend to not take carriages unless they are absolutely necessary. I enjoy the fresh air a bit more than most it seems. I don’t get much of it, normally.”

I found his answer to be rather strange but didn’t press it as I was more concerned with finding my way home at the moment. By that time I had completely abandoned the idea of continuing my search that night, especially with my clothes damp as they were. I had seen no signs of the night crawlers as the shadows were quiet and empty that particular night, making it a bit more eerie than if they had been inhabited by those mysterious beings, if it were possible. So I sighed inwardly at my failure to make contact and contented myself with the fact that I at least had a chance encounter with a handsome stranger anyway, so it was not a total disappointment.

“So where is home?” I asked the man, curious as to his lonely journey throughout the streets of London.

A slow, but enticing smile crept up on the man’s face revealing perfectly straight white teeth, as he took a step closer to me.

“That’s best kept secret…for now,” was his reply.

The smile disappeared but not the playful look in his eyes, as if he had just given me a riddle to solve, and I could not help but feel a tad attracted to him at that moment. Not only because of his physical appearance, which was quite extraordinary, but because of the mystery that surrounded him. Almost as if he kept his entire life a secret from the world.

I met his answer with a smirk and said, “Then at least indulge me with your name, stranger.”

“Dominicus Lior,” he replied haughtily, “though you may call me Dom, everyone does.”

“Interesting name,” I commented, “means something about the lord and the light, does it not?”

“Yes, though I don’t put much faith in those,” Dom answered.

I looked at him questioningly, “The light and lord?”

“The origins of names,” he corrected with a small smirk, though the look in his eyes suggested that was not all he was faithless in.

With that he turned and walked a few steps to the building to lean up against the wall. With his head tilted downward and his cane swinging absently before him he said,

“I’ve told you mine, now I believe I deserve the knowledge of yours. Tell me… what is your name, miss?”

“It’s Aurora,” I answered, not hiding a smile.

I walked up to him, extending a hand and he took it gently to his lips. His fingers beneath mine, caressing the underside of my palm delicately as he kissed my knuckles with cool lips.

“Charmed,” he said, and it was spoken with such elegance and sincerity in his tone that I could not help but blush as his eyes held mine in their gaze.

As he released my hand, his gloved fingers slid beneath my own for a brief moment before he let them slip away.

“Well, Miss Aurora,” Dom said as he pushed himself away from the wall and walked to stand beside me, “I know you are a bit hesitant to take my money, but how do you feel about having an escort?”

He placed both of his hands on the silver top of his cane in front of him and looked at me expectantly. I silently debated my options for several moments. I could allow him to escort me through the dark streets of London and hope he was not a raving lunatic himself or I could turn him down…again and walk alone while hoping to come across more familiar territory. The lonely side of me won out in the end and I opted for companionship. So accepting his offer along with his arm, we started down the path that hopefully would lead me home.

© Copyright 2004 Luciana Malfoy

Author’s Note: Yes, it’s taken a while to update this. Life has been busy but I am slowly working on all my stories. By the way, in case you don’t already know, Dom’s last name is pronounced Lee-or. Chapter 2 will come soon. I’ve decided to do this story in real short chapters instead of my usual long ones.