Lustre of Twilight Read online

  Lustre of Twilight

  Fiona Davenport

  Copyright © 2021 by Fiona Davenport

  Cover designed by Elle Christensen

  Edited by Editing4Indies

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Lustre of Twilight

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Lustre of Twilight

  Jareth Bancroft doubted he’d be one of the daywalkers who was lucky enough to find his destined consort. More than five hundred years of searching had yielded nothing. But one touch proved him wrong in the very best way.

  Narkissa Anders thought vampires were make-believe…until she stumbled upon a nest of them and barely escaped with her life. She would’ve been happy to forget what she’d learned, except she was fated to spend the rest of her life with one.

  Prologue

  Jareth

  In nearly five and a half centuries, only two things ever made me lament being a daywalker vampire. Shopping—okay, I complained about being alive at all when I was forced to shop—because it could be such a hassle to try to go to stores that weren’t open late or twenty-four hours. There were shops owned by other daywalkers, but they couldn’t account for every single need, so when I wanted something that I could only acquire from a store that was open nine to five, I either had to bribe the shop owner or venture out during the day. The term daywalker was quite literal. We could walk in the sun without bursting into flames—as opposed to nightwalkers, who were the typical vampires that filled books and movies. However, our extra pale skin was incredibly sensitive, and getting sunburned was a bitch, so we much preferred living a nocturnal life.

  The other thing was the possibility of spending eternity alone. Daywalkers had only one true mate, a consort that fate paired us with before we were born. Whenever I had to explain this to someone, the first question they usually asked was how do you know who they are and how do we find them?

  How indeed.

  The unfortunate truth was that there was no guarantee we’d ever find our consort, even if we spent eternity searching the world over. There was no way to know when they were born, if they were human or another daywalker, where they lived, if they were even still alive… If the consort was human, they were always born after their vampire mate. That wasn’t much comfort, though, because they could still have come and gone while we continued to search. Worse, you could have been standing next to them and never know if your skin never made contact. It was the only way for us to recognize each other. Daywalkers and consorts didn’t have the ability to feel desire for anyone except their mate. Yep. I’d spent over half a millennium with a floppy cock.

  Sadly, I’d seen the toll it took on vampires as they aged, and I’d seen the result when that devastating loss pushed them over the edge. My brothers and I had been crushed when our great-great-uncle managed to commit suicide because he simply couldn’t live without hope.

  It was difficult not to lose faith then, but I’d done my best to keep my hope and my sanity. Perhaps because I’d been too focused on my brother Liam to worry about myself. When the woman he believed to be his consort died, I began to watch him carefully. I was vigilant in making sure we spoke at least once a day. In his depression and despair, he’d tried to push us away, but I wasn’t about to leave him to his pain and wake up one night to find he’d joined Uncle Thaddeus.

  I was convinced he’d been wrong about his childhood friend, but there was no convincing him. Until yesterday.

  I’d never been happier to be right, and I didn’t give one fuck about being humble either. I said, “I told you so,” more than once and with enthusiasm. Happy couldn’t describe what I felt for my brother. And it also renewed my faith, as well as our two other brothers, in fate.

  So, for the first time in my very long life, I didn’t mind shopping on this Christmas night because I was helping my new sister choose presents for my brother.

  I’d made some suggestions, and she’d picked what she wanted before sending me out to purchase everything. Luckily, I’d managed to acquire most of it from a couple of shops—one owned by a daywalker and the other by a human whose son was the consort of a daywalker.

  However, the last thing I needed was only available at a high-end jewelry shop in town. The owner was a pain in the ass. Usually, I braved the dusk or twilight sun to go there—which was almost never. But circumstances being what they were, I didn’t have time. I was going to have to wake him...on Christmas night. This was going to cost me triple the price of the damn watch.

  Then a second Christmas miracle happened, I called the shop owner’s number, and his wife, Patti, also the co-owner, picked up. I explained (in human terms and with a little stretching of the truth) that my brother and his fiancée, who hadn’t expected to spend Christmas together, had a stroke of luck, but now they didn’t have any gifts for each other. And my poor soon-to-be sister-in-law was devastated to spend their first Christmas together—in a long time—and not have something to give him that showed how much he meant to her. I might have sprinkled in a small bullshit story about why this particular watch, from this particular store, was so special to them.

  Patti was a hopeless romantic, which shocked the fuck out of me, considering the curmudgeon she was married to. She was actually excited to help me, and it didn’t hurt that Norman was apparently out of town caring for his sick mother.

  Fifteen minutes later, she unlocked the door, and her son, who also worked there occasionally, went to the display with the watches and put it on top of the glass counter. “Thank you so much for this. Be sure to tack on an inconvenience fee,” I said with a boyish smile.

  The son, Johnny, chuckled, but Patti beamed at me with a little more swooning going on. “Don’t be silly. You are so welcome. I love being a part of a good love story!” She looked a little dazed for a moment, then seemed to snap out of it as she walked over to stand by Johnny.

  Daywalkers were not predators by nature. We don’t even like the taste of fresh blood and generally have bagged blood delivered by a service set up for just that purpose. However, we were still vampires, which meant we possessed traits that lured in unsuspecting prey. Patti had no idea she’d been a victim to my natural charms. It could be really annoying sometimes. Girls were seriously vicious when they fancied a guy—another positive to being nocturnal, no teens on the street.

  As I moved toward the case, I passed a glass display that twinkled and sparkled with engagement rings and eternity bands. I’d never paid them any mind before, but with my brother’s mating on my mind, I found myself passing it a little slower than usual.

  “Are you considering proposing?” Patti asked. I looked up to see her watching me, and I would swear there were actual hearts in her eyes.

  I smiled and shook my head, but then a particular ring caught my eye, and I leaned closer, practically pressing my nose against the glass. “May I see that one?”

  Pattie reached in and retrieved a delicate gold band that had tiny daffodils carved into the rose gold. “It’s amazing,” I said in awe as I turned the ring a full rotation. “My maternal grandmother set aside four of her rings, one for me and each of my brothers, and this…damn…it
could have been made with mine as a set.”

  “Kismet,” Patti sighed, making me laugh. If only she knew…

  I handed it back, and to my surprise, she didn’t immediately put it away. She left it on the blue velvet cloth they used when showing customers jewelry. Of course, as I picked out a watch and talked with them about the warranty—when you live forever, warranties mean a lot more—my eyes kept drifting back to the ring. It seemed to shine brighter than it should in the glow of a small lamp.

  “I’ll bag this up for you,” Johnny said as he fitted the watch in its box. “We still have a few rolls of Christmas paper if you’d like me to wrap it?”

  “If you don’t mind, Amaia would be so happy with me. I just might get a kiss on the cheek before my brother breaks my jaw,” I pretended to joke. Yeah, Liam would rip my head clean off if I put a single finger on her.

  Johnny laughed and walked into the back while Patti rang up the charge. I had to pass the ring again on my way to the register. I couldn’t stop thinking about Liam finally finding his consort. Did I still have a chance to find mine? If I did…would I regret not having this band to match my grandmother’s ring? It wasn’t as though I couldn’t simply store them away together and forget all about it. Better to have the ring and not need it, right?

  Actually, the ideal situation would be to have it and need it.

  I was handing Pattie my black credit card when I paused and squeezed my eyes shut for a second. This was stupid. There was a one in a million chance that I’d be as lucky as Liam.

  My eyes opened, and I turned my head to stare at the band for another second before meeting Patti’s laughing eyes. “You’ll take it?”

  I sighed. “Yes.”

  1

  Narkissa

  “I know they say that scotch gets all the air it needs after it’s poured, but I swear I can taste a subtle difference when I use a decanter.” My dad set down his glass of scotch and asked, “Where did you find the one you gave me, Narkissa?”

  I glanced down the long length of the table toward him and smiled. “I got it from Tiffany’s. The style I wanted was on backorder, and I had to go with another one. I was a little worried you wouldn’t like the decanter, so I’m really glad to hear that you did.”

  “You had nothing to worry about. You’ve always had a knack for picking out the perfect gift.” His attention shifted to the other end of the table where my mother sat. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

  It took a moment for my mother to realize he was speaking to her—which wasn’t a huge surprise, considering we were seated at a table for twenty even though there were only four of us. Christmas dinner at my parents’ house had been a formal affair as far back as I could remember. When I was a little girl, I loved dressing up in frilly dresses, sipping sparkling grape juice while pretending it was wine, and nibbling on each of the courses as they were served. Eventually, I realized that other families didn’t celebrate Christmas with stilted conversation while sitting on opposite ends of the room from each other. I started to long for fun holiday traditions like building snowmen and baking cookies as a family, but my mother disabused me of those “silly notions” in no time at all.

  “Mm-hmm, one thing we can say about Narkissa is that she has excellent taste in gifts.” She stroked the Hermès silk scarf I gave her and flashed me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  My mother was the master of backhanded compliments, especially when it came to me. I wasn’t the perfect daughter she wanted—that role fell to my younger sister—and she never hesitated to let me know all the ways I fell short. Any praise she gave me had an edge to it, and I’d learned long ago not to take her criticism personally. We were very different people with goals that were worlds apart from each other. The only way I could live up to her standards would be if I tossed all mine out the window, and that was never going to happen.

  “It’s just too bad that the same can’t be said for her taste in men.”

  I should’ve known she was going to go there. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come over for a family dinner when she hadn’t brought up the fact that I was single.

  “How would we even know what kind of guy she likes?” my sister snorted. “She’s twenty-one and never so much as gone out on a single date.”

  I was used to Minerva’s little barbs, but this one still struck a nerve. It wasn’t that her opinion mattered to me that much. It was more that I’d wondered for several years if something was wrong with me. Not because guys didn’t ask me out on dates—that happened plenty even though my sister would be the last to admit to it since she’d gone out with several men who’d asked me first. But I had never met someone who had caught my interest.

  There had been no schoolgirl crushes for me. I’d never felt butterflies swirl in my belly over a guy.

  The smile our mother aimed Minerva’s way held all the warmth missing from the one she had just given me. Born two years after me, my little sister was everything my mother had ever wanted in a daughter—a carbon copy of herself, in looks and personality.

  “Exactly my point, Minnie.” I bit my lip to hold back my usual giggle at her nickname for Minerva. In my head, I always heard a silent “Me” at the end. Our mother couldn’t have picked something more appropriate if she’d tried, but she was utterly clueless as to why I found the nickname hilarious. And after Minerva had accused me of laughing out of jealousy, there was zero chance I was ever going to share the real reason I thought her nickname was ridiculous.

  My dad took another gulp of his scotch before setting the glass down again. “Narkissa will date when she’s ready, dear. There’s no reason for either of our girls to rush into a relationship with a man until they find the right one.”

  “I already did, Daddy.” Minerva wiggled her left hand to show off the huge diamond ring on her finger. “Charles is perfect for me.”

  Her fiancé was far from perfect by any reasonable standard. They’d just gotten engaged two weeks ago, but the man couldn’t even be bothered to join us for Christmas dinner. When I’d asked what he was doing tonight, she’d offered some lame excuse about an international conference call. I wasn’t sure how she’d kept a straight face when she’d said it, as if business meetings on the most celebrated holiday around the world were totally normal. My best guess was that the jerk gave her the ring to get her off his case and was now spending the holiday with his mistress.

  “He’s quite the catch,” my mother agreed. “You did an excellent job attracting his eye. He’ll make you a fine husband.”

  “He certainly will.” Minerva flashed me a smug grin before she took a sip of her champagne.

  I lifted my glass and mumbled, “Only because his bank account will keep you happy.”

  “If you have something to say, do it loudly enough that we can all hear you,” my mother scolded. “It’s rude to mutter to yourself at the dinner table.”

  After taking a big swig of my champagne, I pointed the empty glass toward my mother and said, “You’re right. I was raised better than that. I should’ve kept my thoughts about Minerva’s pending nuptials to myself. Or even better, I should be impressed that she’s willing to marry a man she doesn’t love and who also doesn’t love her just because he’s incredibly wealthy. Even if he’s off banging some random woman while we have Christmas dinner together.”

  My mother and sister gasped in outrage, their cheeks flushing with anger. But my dad stepped in before they could gang up on me.

  “I’ll have your tea brought to you in the library, Narkissa.” There was a thread of steel in his voice that left me with no doubt that he expected to be obeyed. “Take however long you need to pull yourself together before you head home.”

  My mother sniffed in disapproval. “And I expect you to apologize to your sister before you leave.”

  “But—”

  My dad heaved a deep sigh as he lifted his palm toward me. “You heard your mother.”

  “Okie dokie, then.” I pushed my seat back
and stood. Turning to Minerva, I murmured, “I’m terribly sorry I implied that the reason you got engaged to Charles was because he’s wealthy. Since he’s not actually here to celebrate Christmas with us, please do pass my apologies along to him as well.”

  “Narkissa,” my mother growled.

  Luckily, my dad interrupted before she could get going. “That’s enough, Carmilla. Narkissa has apologized. I’m not going to spend the holiday listening to the three of you bickering. It’s over.”

  “Fine,” she huffed.

  I made a beeline toward the door, mouthing to the housekeeper, “Please bring me some dessert, too,” along the way. About five minutes later, she brought me in a pot of chamomile tea and a chocolate souffle. I had planned to leave once I was done with them, but with my belly full and curled up on the couch, I drifted off to sleep and didn’t wake up until hours past midnight.

  The teapot, cup, and dessert plate were gone, and a cashmere blanket was tucked around my body. I must’ve been totally conked out because a fire was also blazing in the hearth. I was half tempted to stay where I was until morning except I didn’t want to bump into my mother at the breakfast table. So, I forced my feet into the heels I’d slipped off and went in search of my coat before heading out to my car.

  It was windy and bitterly cold outside. I was freezing by the time I made it into my car, and I was grateful that my dad had talked me into getting a model with seat warmers. As I made my way across town toward my home, I decided to make a quick detour to a twenty-four-hour convenience store to pick up some supplies in case the snowstorm headed our way was a bad one. I was perfectly content to get stranded at my place for a few days without having to see anyone, but only if I had plenty of snacks to tide me over.