Daughter of Night (A Daughter of Nyx novel)

Chapter One

I got a PM on a different book site and it made me wonder if I had warned enough here. I believe I put this disclaimer in the description, but ICYMI, this is a dark story. 

If you come here from the Bound by series, expecting an Eve type person, you will be disappointed. I would say that most every part of this is different from Eve and her world. It's a lot more somber, though, there is some humor. Chevonne is her own person and I can't change that. And I repeat, this is dark. 

And though it's not the same as Bound by, I love this just as much. 

All my love and on with the show!

~~~

The rain fell on her as she stood at the foot of the fresh grave, but what did it matter? Maybe the outside of her would finally feel as cold as her heart.

Johnathan.

The few people that had come to his funeral had already left and now she was alone. Alone save the two gentlemen that were finishing up the burial. An act she would have given anything to be able to halt. It was a moot point. She was going to have to return later and dig up their hard work.

Her best friend in the world lay six feet below below, and not only was he dead now, but she would have to kill him again.

His first death, while not committed by her hands, still painted her pale flesh red.

Chevonne pulled the brown bag from the inside pocket of her jacket and pulled it from the bottle. The liquid inside gleamed gold in the dim light of the late afternoon rain. Twisting the top, she poured a little of the whiskey on the muddy earth. It was only fitting as it was expensive and she had wanted to drink it with him. Now, this was the only way.

"I'll see you on the flip-side, Johnny Boy."

Turning the bottle back, she let herself feel the warmth of the alcohol as it burned down to an empty stomach. Not a drop of food had crossed her lips since his capture. A capture that led to a death that she was helpless to prevent. A death that was her fault.

Hurry up, Chevonne. We don't have much time.

And they didn't, did they? Even less than they knew. And it was all because of her.

Because she didn't believe in the nightmare of the world at night.

Because he told her that he was following something that couldn't possibly exist.

Because she told him that she wanted to see. What were the words? Something along the lines of 'pictures, or it didn't happen'. So flippant. So deadly.

He told her no. Told her to stay home. she would be safer locked up in her tiny apartment then she would be on the streets that night. And she should have listened.

"I'm so sorry I didn't listen." She knew he couldn't hear her. That even if he was somehow still alive, six feet of dirt and a pine box would have kept those broken words from reaching him. But she also knew that she needed to say those words. And they would be repeated when she had to sneak back into that place and dig, dig so far down, and stick a sharp piece of wood through his chest.

Another long swallow and she turned the rest of the bottle of Pappy's over his grave, watching as the gold mixed with brown. 

~~~

The clang of a metal drew her attention from the constant self-berating and she looked up to find the last of the workers locking the gate. In mere moments, he would get into the beat-up green truck and drive away. A few moments after that, she could leave the bus stop and ease her way across the street. From there, she would work her way through the trees to the hole in the chain-link fence.