Day Breaks

Day Breaks
Chapter One: Damion Jackstone

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There is a story that is told in the highlands of the East that there was once a time when God could not touch the Earth with his hands because his creations no longer loved Him. So, instead of destroying the world again, he sent three souls belonging to His most powerful angels to Earth in the bodies of new born children to lead His people back to Him.

After the deed was done, the angels begged to be brought home to Him, but God had bigger plans for their souls. In the midst of their lives on Earth, something had gone terribly wrong. Satan, seeing the actions of the Lord, sent five of his own demons to Earth to be reincarnated generation after generation in hopes of being able to control the physical realm. The Lord finally did the most unspeakable thing heard of in heaven, and he left his angels on Earth to be reincarnated again and again so that they could fight the five demons that Lucifer had so viciously sent.

After generations, the angels and demons forgot their origins, only remembering in strange dreams and visions what their true purpose was. Their paths crossed over and over again from life to life, not remembering why they'd came or why they lived. Soon, God left His angels to be humans, but Satan, ever venegeful, continued to influence his precious demons, again, putting the Earth in danger of complete evil.

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A tall figure slipped into the dark from the lighting of the streets, smooth and unseen. The lights of the streets shone nearly blue underneath the florescent bulbs, but they were so bright that any individual that moved within their halo reach would cast a dark shadow in the opposite direction in which the closest light was located. The figure that sunk into the shadows, however, did not cast a shadow, and if the casual observer wasn’t watching closely, no one would have noticed the difference.

The streets of the city, although fairly clean, were utterly deserted, the walls along the sidewalks were riddled with colorful graffiti of all types. The most obvious, however, were pictures of angels, demons, and mythological creatures that any normal person would have dismissed as fantastical whims of the human imagination. Whatever the cause for the amazing depictions, they certainly would grab the attention of anyone passing by who’d never seen them before.

The buildings reached at least forty or fifty stories into the sky, and it gave the impression that at night, there was a blanket covering the sky of the city with no outlet to the stars that sprinkled the night sky with such optimism. Most of the buildings were gray and drab, but there were a select few that still stood with the original red bricks from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.

This particular figure that seemed to fade into the shadows found its way into an abandoned alley between two towering buildings. As it glided through the shadows, it watched the light particularly closely, making sure that it was the only figure occupying the alley. Then, at that moment, a hand snaked out from underneath the closing of a long, leather coat and banged on an unseen metal door. When the door opened, a brief light poured out into alley as the figure disappeared inside.

Inside the metal door, loud music and heavy smoke permeated the air like a heavy smog. When the figure pulled off the hood that covered its face, one would have taken pause at the face that was revealed. The man was fairly tall and broad, but the most striking thing about his features were the flashing eyes that surveyed the club carefully.

Although his eyes were dark, specks of orange and gold shone and reflected the lights that speckled around the club in motion with the heavy beat that rattled the glasses in the bars and made the ground shake. He was a good looking man, if not slightly feminine. His cheek bones were high and one could nearly call his facial structure delicate if it wasn’t for one scar that made its way horizontally across his right cheek. His hair was a deep chocolate and it fell raggedly down over his eyes and touched his shoulders in the back in gentle caresses and wisps.

When he opened the leather coat that reached to ankles, it revealed a toned body that was well encased in black leather pants that were obviously worn, and a sleeveless black spandex shirt that traced every muscle like a pencil. He slid the coat off and threw it over an arm. His long legs were sheer lean muscle, and when he moved, he moved with the grace of a big cat in the deep Rocky Mountains. His arms were defined and long, but on his left arm, a tribal spiraled tattoo ran from his wrist to his shoulder. He bore no piercing, save for one that adorned his right eyebrow that accentuated the air of danger that surrounded him.

His skin was fairly pale, and to the touch, it looked to be the finest silk that one could buy. Although he might have seemed aristocratic to the eye, one could tell that he had seen better days as a result of the scar and the toughness that exuded from his stoic eyes. The overall impression of the man was that he was very obviously cold and unfriendly, but underneath the icy exterior, there burned a fire in the depths of his striking eyes that no one could face. When he looked a bouncer directly in the eye, the large guard couldn’t help looking away. No one could stare into eyes like that for an extended period of time, and the man felt a malicious pride in the fact that he could overpower a man with a look.

The room itself, although not that big, was surrounded on all sides by wet bars except for the dance floor. The dance floor was set up in the right corner of the rectangular room, and various beautiful people moved to the heavy acid techno that blared from the floor to ceiling speakers that adorned each corner of the floor. Several bartenders attended each wet bar, smiling and flirting with the patrons, inviting each person to get another drink. The club was packed, and when the man noticed several bartenders conversing the bar farthest from the door, he chose his target. He pushed his way through the crowd, his coat on one arm, and his other arm bracing against people’s backs and brushing them out of his way. He intently glared at one male bartender that seemed to be happier than the others.

When he got to the bar, the tall blonde man that he’d been so intently staring at flashed him a pasted grin. The bartender wasn’t all that ugly, but there was something about his appearance that cried out that he was fake and snobbish, even with his humble job at the popular techno club. The dark headed stranger found a place to stand up against the bar and waved the blonde over with a flick of his wrist. The blonde sauntered over to the visitor and looked at him appreciatively. “What can I get you?”

In a smooth movement, the stranger reached over the bar, abruptly grabbed a handful of the blonde’s shirt, and yanked him half-way over the bar. The blonde let out an indignant yelp of, “Yo, what the fuck, man?” before he met dark, intimidating orbs specked with gold. His mouth snapped shut when he realized the stranger meant business.

“Tauri.” He growled. It was one word, but the man didn’t need to make his point beyond that. The blonde was already scared out of his wits from the strong, graceful movements of the stranger, and he readily pointed to some stairs that led off the dance floor to a glassed in office that overlooked the club. He shoved the blonde back behind the bar and didn’t give him a second look. He shoved through the people on the floor until he reached the stairs. It was odd that there were no bouncers on the terrace near the door of the office, so he regarded the situation warily.

When he pushed on the glass door of the office, it was open and he invited himself in. When his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, he noticed an office chair that was pointed towards a TV in the corner of the room. He caught a flash of red hair as the inhabitant of the office straightened her back. She turned the office chair to face him, and when she did, dark eyes glanced over her form.

The woman was not what the stranger had expected. She was dressed in a blood red business suit that complimented her long rusty red hair that fell around her shoulders in waves. Her eyes surmised him, making him annoyed with her lack of surprise at his arrival. She was obviously not intimidated by him. When she stood and leaned over the desk, her feral grace caught his attention in an odd way. Her eyes were of the iciest blue the man had ever seen, and her skin was flicked with light freckles. She was long and sleek like a greyhound, and he found himself admiring her stance in the back of his mind. She finally spoke, and her voice was commanding and sharp.

“Nice of you to knock.” She snapped.

“I need information. Word on the street says you know a lot about what goes on.” His voice flowed over her senses like warmed honey, but in the same voice, there was no emotion and no indication of intimidation or concern.

“Maybe.” She sat back down in her office chair and crossed her legs. She was well known in the city for her ownership of most of the clubs and uptown eating establishments as well as a few laboratories and stores. She owned stock in every major company in the country, and she was a complete shark in a conference room when it came to brokering deals.

“Tauri, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“If you want the information, you’ll have to behave yourself.” She answered, a feral smile gracing her beautiful heart shaped face.

In a smooth action, the man pulled a gun from his coat and aimed it with precision at her forehead. She didn’t blink. It was a blatant battle of wits, and she didn’t seem in the least worried that he had a loaded firearm aimed at her. “Information. Now.”

“I know you.” She said suddenly, her cobalt eyes narrowing. “You’re the guy from the news who got his daughter killed by that maniac serial killer.” His gaze was still cold and emotionless. “Damion Jackstone.” When she mentioned his name, he cocked the pistol. This time, a glint of fear slid into her expression, but she didn’t let him see it but for a second. She shifted and re-crossed her legs.

“What do you want to know?”

“The murders.”

She looked at him, and she realized that it would be pointless to run this crazed nut case around in a circle, so she provided a name. “Go talk to Tabitha at Rodney’s.” With that, he dropped the pistol and slid the hammer slowly back into place. She watched him with an obvious interest in his body, and she smiled seductively. “Why don’t you stick around and keep me company?”

He shot her an icy gaze, and with that, he was gone. When he exited the office, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. That had been close. She stood up and went to her window and watched as he slowly exited the club through the crowd of people. She immediately reached into her dress jacket pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She hit a button and touched it to her ear.

“Frankie. Find Thomas Barton and get his ass in my office. I don’t care if you have to tranquilize that jackass. We’ve got problems.” When she snapped the phone shut, she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Damion was going to be a problem for the few people who knew the truth and wanted to stay alive.

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Across town, Frankie was asking questions. Frankie wasn’t a stupid man, and when he needed answers, he used certain measures of persuasion that always convinced people to talk to him. Whether he was dripping with honey, venom, or cash, he absolutely knew how to extract information. It was sheer luck that Tauri Harmon found him on the street corner when she did, because his life was heading on the track to hell. No matter what people told him about the sinister side of his female employer, he would always swear that Tauri was an angel.

When he received the answer he was seeking, he followed the trail to a small biker’s bar on the edge of the Red Light District. The small establishment was less than reputable, and it seemed to him that this was the ideal place to find Barton. As he neared the smeared glass doors, he watched in interest as there was movement from inside. All at once, the glass burst into a thousand tiny pieces onto the asphalt as a man was hurled through the doors. Frankie side stepped the mess and cocked a single eyebrow.

“He’s definitely here.” He mumbled. As he carefully stepped through the broken door, a scene of utter chaos greeted his eyes. A large man was breaking a pool stick over another man’s head and yelling out obscenities to the rest of the men who were crowded around, trying to decide if they wanted to attack the maniac or not. When he rushed at one man who looked particularly dangerous, the men scattered from him. There was not a single man in the bar that wanted to pick a fight with the bulky beast.

Frankie pulled out a gun and casually loaded a dart into it while he watched the scene. This had happened once before, and there was no other way to bring Thomas Barton in than to stick him with a dart and drag his ass back to Tauri. He was disagreeable in every way, and Frankie had the annoying realization that Thomas’ mouth was usually bigger and faster than his brain. Frankie’s dark eyes rolled when Thomas threw a childish insult at a man that was probably half his size and laughed at his own joke.

Thomas, at six foot four, stood taller than most everyone else, and the man rippled with muscle all over his body. For some, his mass might have been unattractive, but he wasn’t so bulky that he had no grace in his movements. He was fast, and with no equal to his ego and desire to dominate, it made for a dangerous combination that would leave destruction in his wake at any bar. His tawny blonde hair was nearly light brown, and it was cut short and spiked haphazardly with gel. He wore a blue bandana wrapped around his head, and Frankie smirked at the fact that he looked like an oversized clumsy ninja with it on.

He wore fairly baggy jeans that hugged his hips and a t-shirt that was a drab olive green, stained in several places from beer that had been thrown out of the way during the fight. His muscles stretched the shirt to near tearing, and it seemed that anyone would have been intimidated by his sheer physical power. Thomas’ eyes were a shocking hazel that changed from green to blue to amber depending on his very volatile mood. Frankie finally got a clean shot in the chaos and took it. He squeezed the trigger and the dart hit home in the crook of Thomas’ neck. When Thomas felt the tiny prick, he dropped the man he was beating on and grabbed the dart out of his neck as a reaction. When he turned and saw Frankie, he glared at him.

“Asshole. I think you just made the wrong move.” He waded through angry bar patrons and approached Frankie with a malicious expression on his handsome face. Frankie didn’t budge although he was getting progressively more worried as Thomas got closer. The dart hadn’t worked. In the back of his mind, he’d have to remind Harley to make the potency ten fold for the beast known as Thomas Barton. Thomas stopped in front of him and snapped, “Tauri sending me an invitation?” Frankie cocked another eyebrow at Thomas, and it made the brawler see red. “I think you’re missing something.” With a swift gesture, he stabbed the dart into Frankie’s shoulder, and the well dressed associate passed out.

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Tauri was at her desk perusing mountains of paperwork and bookkeeping records when the door of her office slammed open. She started and looked up to see Thomas Barton taking up the majority of the doorway with an unconscious Frankie slung over his shoulder. He glared at the red headed businesswoman.

“I brought your dog back.” He dropped Frankie on her office floor as he closed the door behind him and stepped over the unconscious man. Thomas’ long legs were part of his impressive physical appearance, and he showed determination and decision in every move he made. “You know, they’ve got leash laws in this day and age.” He made direct eye contact with her, and when he met her gaze, a moment passed between the two that had Thomas wanting to throw Tauri on her desk and teach her exactly who was in charge.

Tauri rolled her eyes. Her beauty certainly wasn’t lost to Thomas, and his eyes blatantly ran over her figure, making her that much more annoyed with him. She stood up and slammed her hand down on her desk. “Sit down and shut up. I’ve got bigger problems than your inability to be a normal, civilized human being.” Thomas flashed her a cocky grin as he ungracefully plopped down into the chair across from her at her desk.

“Well, hello to you too, beautiful.” He drawled. He lit a cigarette much to her chagrin and let out a huge cloud of smoke into her office. In a smooth, precise motion, she snatched the cigarette out of his hand and dropped it in a water glass on her table. She leaned further over the desk, giving Thomas an excellent view of her cleavage.

Tauri glared at him. “We have problems. Big problems. I got a visit from Damion Jackstone. You know who that is?” The mention of Damion’s name made the smile on Thomas’ face abruptly disappear. A look of sheer anxiety fell onto his face. The laugh lines on his face lessoned as he considered the weight of the situation.

“Does he know about Jenny’s father?” He asked in a quieter voice.

“No,” snapped Tauri, “But I’m willing to bet that you said something to someone who said something to someone who said something to him, and he came looking for me.” She slammed her fist into her desk again. “Dammit, Barton, that pissed off maniac came into my office and pointed a fucking gun at my forehead.”

A look of anger settled next on the man’s face, and he stood up from his chair and settled a large hand on her shoulder. “Did he hurt you?” When he reached and tilted her chin up, her blue eyes held a world of sorrow. Thomas understood that it was killing her that she knew the truth about Damion’s daughter and couldn’t say anything. There was more at stake than one man’s desire for vengeance. As soon as he saw the pain, it passed out of her eyes, and she was ice again. Tauri shoved his hand off her shoulder. She was angry more than anything, he realized, and like her red hair, her temper was equally fiery and dangerous.

“No, but I sent him to Tabitha. When he realizes I lied, he’s going to come back. And he’s not going to be happy.”

Thomas considered her statement, and then, something occurred to him. “Why didn’t you send him to me to start with? It would have probably saved your life. Jesus, Tauri. That guy’s out of control. He’ll kill you without thinking twice. He’s pissed off and dangerous.”

“It doesn’t matter why I sent him to Tabitha.” She paused. “But he’s not pissed off, Thomas. He’s completely objective. The man doesn’t have any emotion left. That’s why he scares me.”

Thomas’ eyes widened at her statement and then a look of determination went across his face. “When he comes back, Tauri, I’ll be here. That crazy bastard won’t touch you, and if he does, he’ll have me to reckon with.”

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The characters of Day Breaks belong to the Mad Hatter (not on AFF.Net) and Bruce’s Girl (BrucesGirl). The story is original, and if it is alike to any other plot, it is unintentional and coincidental. All inquiries to archiving must be directed to Bruce’s Girl or to the Mad Hatter, and fan art that is requested to be on the website will be received via email with disclaimers.

Characters are based on the personalities of eight real life friends, but the story is in no way based on real life events. Any likeliness to real life events, places, or names is also unintentional and coincidental.

This story is dedicated to our ever changing group of friends that keep our lives sane. Regardless of what happens to us in the future, we will always love each other!