The Path of Razors

by Green, Chris Marie

  About damned time those schoolgirls showed up to finish what they’d started last night, Dawn thought. In her craziest fantasies, she’d been wishing they’d just get on over here and put an end to the waiting.

  “How many of them?” she asked.

  “One vampire,” Evangeline said as she trailed back to allow Breisi to take her place beside Dawn and Frank. “And she is asking for ‘the girl.’ Asking for Dawn.”

  Only one?

  And she wanted Dawn in particular?

  At the top of the steps, she exchanged red-alert glances with her teammates, then sprinted the rest of the way to the front door, where she looked out of the peephole.

  And, indeed, out on the premorning street, right in front of the decorated gates of Cross Bones Graveyard, which was really just a slab of cement, stood a schoolgirl dressed in a long skirt, white shirt, and slender red tie.

  Violet.

  The leader of the Queenshill vampires.

  FOUR

  THE UGLY STEPSISTER

  WHAT does she want with me?“ Dawn asked as she pulled back from the peephole.

  “Who?” Kiko asked.

  “That Violet girl. The queen bee of the group.” Dawn went to the weapons panel in the wall near the door, opened it, then extracted a holy water bracelet that she strapped around her wrist, plus a mini flamethrower that she shoved into the waistline of her dark pants.

  Kiko had come to her side, dragging a wooden stepstool so he could raid the weapons cache, too.

  “Kik,” Dawn said, “I’ll take care of her on my own. She asked for me, and if all of us go outside to say a fond hi, she might bolt.”

  “Undergrounders don’t usually ask for so many fights above, Dawn. It’s a concern.”

  “Everything’s a concern.”

  She donned a communication earpiece and grabbed a locator device for good measure, then stuffed a UV grenade in the pocket of the light jacket she was about to put on.

  Frank’s voice sounded from behind her. “How about I zip outside and get close enough for some eye contact? I can go inside her mind in a snap.”

  Dawn paused in her prep. “Let me run this by you all one more time—she asked for me. There’s gotta be a reason, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

  “I can tell you what it is right now,” Frank said. “It’s easier to kill a team member if she’s by herself. Ambush Basics—know what I mean?”

  “Could be,” Kiko interjected. “The rest of them just might be waiting out there, hoping we’ll snag on their hook. Not that we couldn’t snag them right back.”

  Dawn reached into the weapons hole again.

  An exasperated sigh from her dad told her that he knew she was going to do what she damned well pleased. The fact that Costin hadn’t stopped her yet probably even lent weight to her cause.

  He wanted her to go outside, wanted to see just what Violet was here for.

  And, gee—here she’d thought that her being used as bait for the Underground had stopped in L.A.

  As she took a container of garlic essence out of the cache, she admitted that she didn’t mind being sacrificed anymore, that it was actually what she lived for nowadays. Then she motioned for Frank to clear the area before she put some essence on her bod.

  Even if these vamps ended up being immune to garlic, she was hoping the stench might confuse their senses a little, taking away their ability to keep track of her every movement if she ended up having to hightail it away for some reason; she’d spray the stuff as she went along, leaving a false trail.

  Or maybe garlic wouldn’t work at all if they could hear her body rhythms.

  At any rate, Breisi had spent most of the last few hours brain-storming ways that might address both issues, and Dawn trusted that her Friend would come up with something. Hell, even before Breisi had been murdered, she’d been their official awesome mad scientist.

  Since Frank didn’t love being around garlic so much, he removed himself to the back of the room, melding with the dark wood, the ominous bas-reliefs featuring friars on the ceiling, the chubby angel faces, and the mirrors that gave such a twisted manor-house feel to this place. Meanwhile, Dawn slapped on the essence, barely even catching the much-more-appealing scent of the Friends as they swirled around her.

  The spirits were probably outside, too, near Violet, and the notion gave Dawn that much more confidence.

  After wrapping herself in the big, light jacket to cover the extent of her arsenal, she positioned a silver-laced throwing blade in her fingers, ready to rock.

  “Hey,” Kiko said, still standing on his stool. “Don’t die.”

  “Don’t worry.” Dawn walked to the door. “You still owe me a game of football.” The kind where you played with a triangle of paper.

  “Dawn,” Frank said from the back of the room, his own tone carrying an entire epic series of caution.

  She stopped, hand on the knob. Damn the timing, but it struck her again how caring he’d become after being turned. Back when he was human, he’d been too drunk half the time to have a fully developed conscience, so Dawn was still getting used to this new, improved, vampire version of her father.

  If “improved” was what you’d call it.

  “Frank,” she said, softening as much as was possible. Which still left a bunch of room for an awkward edge. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

  They locked gazes, but then he planted his hands on his hips and glared at the floor.

  Kiko couldn’t resist tossing one in there. “Admit it, Frank—your baby’s all growed up.”

  Just as she was about to open the door, Costin’s voice came out of one of the angel-face speakers, giving voice to the wooden cherub.

  “It seems that Violet is not approaching, merely ... waiting.”

  By now, Costin would’ve instructed Natalia to monitor the video screens in another room while he sequestered himself out of sheer habit. Last night, Jonah had proven that their body could survive outside, but Costin never risked what he didn’t need to. The stakes were just too high, and Dawn couldn’t really fault him for it.

  Even though it might be a real game changer if he would just give his new vampire body a chance beyond headquarters ...

  But why worry when she could deal with Violet right now?

  “What do you think the queen bee has in mind?” she asked Costin. “And I really hope you’re not standing at our bedroom window just so you can get good reception.” Although he hadn’t been able to break out of his body with his full powers, he’d retained his ability to use his mind for hypnosis and such. “You’d be giving her a nice target.”

  “Thank you for noting it,” he said, a hint of amusement somewhere in there.

  Okay, Jonah had taken their body outside last night, but she was still worried about the safety of their ultimate weapon. She was a creature of habit, just like Costin was, and if they didn’t keep him as secure as they could—even with his powers being as questionable as they were nowadays—it would all be over.

  “At the moment,” Costin added, “I’m as safe and sound as possible.” Until Jonah decided to take over. Costin didn’t say it, but it was implied. “Yet regarding Violet’s motives? I cannot be certain of anything.”

  “Whatever the situation,” Frank said, “we’ll be ready.”

  Aw, Dad was backing her up now. His protective doggedness tried to break through Dawn’s frostiness.

  Tried, but she was too prepped for action to feel any of the warm fuzzies.

  She addressed the angel face. “Costin, you’re ready to control the UV lights outside and flood the area if Violet pulls anything funny?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’m off.”

  She didn’t want to wait around for any more gooey stuff. Everyone in the house knew ...

  Well, they knew that she wouldn’t go off and die, so why linger and get all schmaltzy about it?

  Deep breath and ...

  She opened the door, stepped through, then quickly closed i
t behind her as the near-sunrise air pawed at her cheeks. She took a deep breath of it as her pulse thudded in her temples, in the veins of her neck.

  Across the wanly lit street, Violet leaped up to balance on the Cross Bones Graveyard gates, clearly not afraid of being caught on one of the many closed-circuit TV surveillance cameras that covered London. Nope, she just vamp-crouched on that gate as if she was expecting more hunters to come out.

  Her eyes glowed a little in the dimness, outdoing the purple blush of the sky.

  Dawn flashed a silvered throwing blade at the girl, warning her, showing her she was armed yet alone as she stayed on the stoop near the door. Simultaneously, she peered around for signs of other creatures ... or maybe even one of those red-eyed shadow figures that had been tracking them at the vamp burial site.

  In the end, they came to stare at each other—Violet, Dawn. Dawn, Violet.

  She shielded her thoughts, just in case this girl tried to read her.

  Otherwise, nothing happened except for a stir of the cards and letters tied to the gates. The mementos flapped in a sudden huff of breeze, probably the result of a patrolling Friend.

  Violet sniffed the air, tilted her head, as if trying to understand what the jasmine meant. But then she smiled, as if she’d made a connection between the scent and the hunters. Then she canted her head to the other side, sniffed again, and the smile disappeared. She stiffened, holding to the top of the gates.

  “I smell your and your little person’s scent on someone else who’s come outside,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “What’re you talking about?”

  The girl made one of those clucking, eye-rolling expressions that Dawn herself had perfected in middle school. “Someone else just stepped outside. Whoever it is, send them back. You’re the one I want to see.”

  Aw, shit.

  It had to be Frank, whose untreated change of clothing from last night had picked up scents from headquarters. He’d probably snuck through a belowground back exit, still intent on ambushing Violet.

  “Stop it, you guys,” Dawn said to her team in general. “Get back in the house.”

  A crackle from her earpiece, then her dad’s resigned voice. “Had to give it a try.”

  Stubborn ass.

  “All right,” Frank said an instant later. “I’m in the cradle.”

  At the same time, Violet relaxed, then dropped from the gate to the ground to land in another crouch, her long brown hair raining to her back.

  Dawn cocked her blade but didn’t throw it.

  Violet straightened to a stand, hardly seeming to give a crap that Dawn had her in a line of fire.

  “Found you,” she said instead, and the gamesmanship she’d exhibited last night in their skirmish was blatant in her tone now. When the girls had first engaged the hunting team, who’d been nosing around Queenshill for clues to an Underground, the curious vampires had been playful like this, as if the team were catnip and didn’t pose much danger at all.

  This told Dawn that the girls were either not Underground vampires or just way too cocky if they were.

  But then the tables had turned, and the change in matters had caused the girls’ flippancy to disappear.

  “You bring your buddies?” Dawn asked.

  “No.” Violet’s tone got ugly. “I’m alone. I had a slight ... falling-out ... with the others. I’m on my way out of London, really, but I thought I might see you before I scuttled off.”

  “Bullshit.”

  The other girl raised her voice and tremors skated over Dawn’s skin.

  “You can have faith that matters will change if our superior decides that things are steady enough to take the chance on leaving the temporary hiding spot where she’s sheltering the others. I doubt she would risk another public face-off—we enjoy our freedom, but we’re not daft—yet there’s always a chance she could switch to offense and hunt you down just as effectively as I did. Fear can provide a lovely trail.”

  That amazing sense of smell, Dawn thought. Half-wolf, half-cat vamps.

  “Calm about that, aren’t you?” Violet added, looking like she wanted to put a little more scare into Dawn. “Don’t be. You can rest assured that you’re being searched for in other ways, even if most of us won’t come out of hiding.”

  Dawn still tried not to seem rattled.

  But Violet wasn’t done.

  “I’m quite fast, myself, and when I returned to Queenshill with the intention of tracking your aroma, it didn’t take me long to be directed here. As long as I know what I’m hunting, I’m very, very good. We all can be.”

  She glanced around, as if keeping an eye out for the other girls, and it occurred to Dawn that Violet might be ...

  ... nervous.

  When Dawn narrowed her eyes, the schoolgirl added, “You can either listen to what I have to offer or not. Your choice, but we don’t have long before I need to be on my way.”

  Dawn kept her throwing blade primed, secure in the notion that she was fast on the draw and so was Costin. Based on how the girls had reacted to the UV grenades, the lights outside headquarters had the power to give these vamps a screaming sunburn if necessary.

  Best of all, it looked like Kiko might’ve been right when he’d said that the Queenshill vampires didn’t like one another, that they might come apart at the seams after last night’s brouhaha.

  Or, again, this could just be a beautiful setup, and the rest of them would spring on her just when she let her guard down a notch more....

  “Forgive me if I’m suspicious,” Dawn said, “but why would you be telling me all this?”

  The schoolgirl smiled, and it sent ice gouging up Dawn’s spine.

  “Because,” Violet said, “I want everything to be taken away from them, too.”

  She leaned back against the Cross Bones gates, and Dawn wondered if the girl had any idea of who was buried there in the un-consecrated ground—of how many other female bodies were in a mass grave under the concrete behind those gates because they’d been too wicked for a proper send-off.

  An early-morning train rumbled by on the raised tracks to Dawn’s left, emitting a clacking growl of warning, cautioning that Violet’s comment was too good to be true.

  After the train passed, it left everything else around them in the same sleepy post-witching-hour gloom.

  As Dawn’s earpiece crackled, assuring her that she wasn’t alone in this, a Friend whizzed past.

  Once more, Violet sniffed the air, casual as could be. “That perfume.”

  Dawn wasn’t about to get into slumber-party mode and start revealing secrets, too. “My favorite essence—eau de impatient.”

  The vampire girl laughed, just like this was some kind of warped bonding moment.

  “So you think you can talk me and my buddies into taking everything away from your friends,” Dawn said, testing. “Just so you know, that isn’t why we showed up at your place last night.”

  Violet crossed her arms over her white shirt and slim red tie. “I can’t persuade you to aid in providing a parting gift to my classmates? A ‘do unto others as they’ve done unto me’?”

  Oh, too perfect, Dawn thought. She didn’t dare believe it.

  But ... she sort of did. And maybe that’s why Violet had chosen her to talk to. Because, with some kind of vampire power, she could sense Dawn might be a perfect target.

  Whatever the reason, she’d be a fool not to at least listen for a second. “Okay, I’ve got to know what you’re going on about, so keep on talking.”

  Violet scanned the sky, then shrugged. “For over a year now, I’ve been a part of a small, select vampire class at Queenshill. Seven girls, all of us told that we were ‘special.’ And what a bunch of bollocks that was.”

  “Because whoever recruited you betrayed you?”

  There—an opening for Violet to talk about the Underground without Dawn having to say it out loud and give her own game away.

  But the girl was still back on the “special” part. “
I’m not the only one to have been disappointed. A few of us left, you know. One of us even ran away.”

  Briana Williamson? Dawn wondered. Through investigation, the team had come upon her history, and it had played its role in leading them to Queenshill in the first place.

  “I’m running off, as well,” Violet said. “There are other vampires for me to be with. Better ones.”

  Good God, was this girl insinuating that she wanted to join up with the Limpets, who counted Frank among their number?

  Soooo not going there. But how could Dawn get Violet to tell her if she was a member of an Underground without actually saying “Underground”? If Violet had anything to do with one, the word could set off alarms for the vampires, especially if Violet was taking part in one of these types of vamps’ favorite pastimes: Spying. Messing with people.

  But the team used stealth, too. It was the best way to launch a final attack on an Underground, even though Dawn would cast a hearty vote for going into any lair and slaying every suspicious vampire imaginable. But her dad and Costin kind of put the kibosh on that; their mere existence proved that there were good ones out there, and wiping them out didn’t sit well with what conscience she had left.

  Since Frank had asked Della about Briana last night when he’d been trying to get into the girl’s mind, Dawn decided to use this tactic to question Violet, too.

  “Why did Briana run away?” she asked. “Did Queenshill disappoint her?”

  The schoolgirl tilted her head at Dawn, her voice snapping. “Why does Briana matter?”

  Careful. Use those mind blocks. “Just wondering if you’re off to join her.”

  “Hardly.” Violet traced a long finger over the gate. But then she caught herself, glanced around again, then talked fast, as if she wanted to get going. “Listen. Before I leave, I only wanted to warn you. You must watch out for one Queenshill girl above all others. Della.”

  Oooo, venom.

  I want everything to be taken away from them, too, Violet had said. But Dawn would bet her life that this vamp had only meant Della.

  “You don’t like her much,” Dawn said. “Do you?”

  Violet chuffed, but then went back to tracing the gate. Her words had a tremor to them now—a little girl lost, and Dawn almost felt for her.