Chapter 25. The Daytime Anomaly
The dining room felt like a vacuum, the air thin and pressurized as the Hale family and their guest settled into the choreographed theater of a high-stakes dinner. Raveene moved toward the table with a heavy, rhythmic disinterest, pointedly ignoring Aldrich Voss. She aimed for the empty chair beside her mother; Vivienne could be harsh, and her silence was often a weapon, but she was still the only soul in this house Raveene felt she could remotely trust.
"You are sitting beside Aldrich, dear."
Victor's voice cut through the room, deceptively calm but laced with a subtle, metallic hardness that acted like a physical barrier. Raveene halted, her hand hovering over the back of the chair beside her mother. She looked at her father, whose eyes were narrowed into a silent, iron-clad threat. The tension was thick enough to choke on, and she saw Aldrich watching the exchange, his gaze darting between father and daughter with a smug, expectant curiosity. Raveene looked to her mother for support, but Vivienne only offered a microscopic, weary nod.
Gritting her teeth, Raveene turned and walked around the long mahogany table to take her place beside Aldrich. The moment she sat, she felt his gaze—unblinking and possessive—sliding over her. Under the cover of the heavy tablecloth, she delivered a sharp, bruising punch to his thigh. Aldrich flinched, his breath catching in a silent gasp as he looked at her with a flash of genuine disbelief.
"Stop staring at me, you sicko," she hissed, her voice a ghost of a whisper.
"Like you don't like it," Aldrich smirked, leaning in just close enough for her to smell his expensive, cloying cologne.
"Shut up."
Aldrich leaned back, a look of oily satisfaction settling onto his features. Across the table, Victor observed the interaction with a nod of approval, misinterpreting her hostility for the kind of spirited flirting he expected from a woman of her station.
"Let us pray, shall we?" Victor announced.
Raveene felt a mountain of pressure settling onto her chest as they all reached out to close the circle. She felt the unwanted warmth of Aldrich's hand as his fingers laced through hers, a sensation that made her skin crawl.
"Pray, Raveene," Victor commanded.
Fuck, I should have seen that coming, she thought. She cleared her throat, her voice coming out steady and practiced. "Thank you, Lord, for bringing us together. For gathering us here in this moment to preserve our happiness, even while the dangers of the city seek to keep us apart. Thank you for this peaceful meal. May it be blessed. In Jesus' name, Amen."
As the family transitioned into the quiet ritual of unfolding linen napkins and the clinking of silver against china, Raveene seized her window of opportunity. She slipped her phone into her lap beneath the table, keeping the brightness at its lowest setting so the glow wouldn't alert the predator sitting beside her. Her fingers moved with a frantic, technical grace as she bypassed the city's primary firewalls. She wasn't checking social media; she was hacking into Valeria's thermal tracking grid, desperate to find Nightfall's heat signature.
She was so focused on the scrolling lines of code that she failed to notice her father's gaze hardening from the head of the table.
"Using phones at the dinner table is prohibited, Raveene," Victor said, his voice dropping into a register of cold authority. "I expect you to be aware of that."
Raveene froze, her thumb hovering over a data node. She looked up, her jaw set, and for a long moment, father and daughter engaged in a silent, jagged staring contest. The air felt as though it were seconds away from snapping.
"Drop it, Raveene. Now," Vivienne intervened, her voice a sharp, stabilizing force.
Raveene exhaled a long, shaky breath, the frustration of being trapped in this endless cycle of control nearly overwhelming her. She tapped the screen off and placed the phone face down on her lap.
"As a means to ease this tension," Aldrich began, his voice smooth and performative, "I brought a few gifts, in case you are interested."
He snapped his fingers, and a group of uniformed attendants emerged from the shadows of the foyer. They approached the table with synchronized movements, depositing a small mountain of velvet-wrapped bundles onto a spacious expanse of the mahogany. Victor leaned back, a look of immense satisfaction crossing his face as he watched the display of wealth. He glanced at Raveene, expecting gratitude, but she only offered a slow, deliberate roll of her eyes.
"This is just a stable progress toward the engagement," Aldrich continued, his practiced smile never quite reaching his eyes. "Since it's taking place in only a few days, I suppose we have nothing to worry about, right?"
Raveene stared at him with a visceral disgust. He's not going to take no for an answer, she realized, her fingers clenching into a fist. He's determined to steamroll over me. "I really cannot do this right now," she whispered to herself.
"This is me trying to ensure your heart is set on this union," Aldrich added, his tone suggesting she didn't actually have a choice in the matter. "I wouldn't want it to feel like I am the only one interested in our future."
The atmosphere grew heavy as everyone at the table waited for her response. Raveene didn't look up. Her focus was entirely on the phone resting on her thigh, which had begun to vibrate with a soft, persistent haptic pulse. The thermal grid was beeping.
For now, Raveene, she coached herself. Just endure this if you want your plans to move smoothly.
"Whatever," she said aloud, her voice tight. "Let's just get this over with."
"So, baby girl," Aldrich said, his smugness growing. "I was thinking of giving you the pleasure of choosing the exact day for the ceremony. Have you thought about it? I believe I made the request several days ago."
Raveene's mind went blank. She had completely and totally forgotten about his "request," her brain having prioritized the silver-violet eyes of a monster over the wedding of a pervert. How am I supposed to remember? she thought. As if I even care.
Victor's scrutiny intensified. He was watching for the slightest slip-up, waiting for her to malfunction or misbehave in front of their most important ally.
"It's fine," Raveene said quickly. "Just give me a few more seconds. I haven't quite settled on a date. Things have been... crazy on my end. I've been occupied."
Victor watched them both with the careful, calculated attention of a man managing a negotiation he believed he was winning. But he wasn't. Raveene wasn't even in the room anymore. She was a hundred miles away, lost in the digital static of a hunt.
She dropped her phone face down on the table.
But before long, the sudden, loud buzzing of her phone against the mahogany table shattered the theater of the dinner. The vibration was so violent it made the silverware rattle, drawing every eye to her with the sharpness of a spotlight.
Raveene didn't even bother to apologize for the commotion. She snatched the phone up, her eyes widening as she saw the thermal grid tracker flinching. A massive, jagged signal was blooming across the map of the city—a signature that was completely abnormal. It was an anomaly she recognized instantly.
Nightfall's heat signature. Active. Moving.
Right now?!! In the daytime?!!! her mind screamed.
She began to type briskly, her fingers a blur as she tried to triangulate the location on the map of Valeria. It was impossible. Nightfall never emerged before the 5:45 PM sirens. It was against every rule that governed the beast's existence.
"What was the instruction at the beginning of this meal, Raveene?"
Victor's voice boomed through the space, his fury finally breaking the surface. Raveene swallowed hard, her heart racing as the entire table stared at her in stunned silence. Her face remained a mask of frozen calm, but her mind was a whirlwind.
He was out there. Right now. In the daylight. And she was trapped in here, in the middle of a farce, while the world as she knew it began to break.