Maybe the Friends felt sorry for her, this deadened girl who was only just now beginning to operate normally as she shakily drove to Beachwood Drive. Or maybe Dawn had more power than she was aware of over the ghosts trailing her car and they had no choice but to follow her wishes.
After the carnage, she’d caught the taxi. Luckily, the driver had cared more about some gossip he’d picked up at the store than his passenger. Had she heard about the strange lights reported around the area by campers? Probably UFOs. There’d also been gunshots—no doubt rednecks who wanted to scare off those aliens—so the cops had gone out to the location, where they’d set up some sort of secret investigation already.
Dawn knew they’d found a real crime scene, too, filled with Cassie’s oatmealed body and a camera that’d recorded everything. Would a vampire video surface somewhere soon?
Then she recalled something about an interrupted transmission by Eva….
Yes, Eva, and all Dawn wanted to do was catch up with Breisi’s real killer. Eva. And then there was this Master….
Right. What was she going to do with him? Throw down with this even more powerful vampire? How?
That’s where plan B came in. After the taxi ride to Jac…Eva’s, where she’d picked up her car, Dawn had used another pay phone to call the man who’d suddenly moved down on her list of those to avoid.
Matt Lonigan.
Sounding very surprised and even relieved that she’d contacted him, he told her he was home if she needed him.
And she did need, but not in the usual way.
As Dawn walked up his drive, most of the Friends surrounded her. A few had already gone straight to Limpet’s.
“Daaaa-aawn?” one of them asked while she knocked on the door. “Too late…we were…too late…he didn’t know….”
They’d been telling her that off and on, apologizing, hinting that they’d been out searching for Dawn all over the county. Due to Eva’s impulsive activities, they’d been able to finally lock onto her location but hadn’t arrived in time.
No explanation mattered. All Dawn could see was Breisi choking on her own blood.
Matt answered the door on the second knock. The sight of his bruised everyman looks got to her, but she shut him out. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was that emotion was useless, that sex wasn’t going to solve anything.
“How much is your fee to hunt down vampires?” she asked, voice flatlined.
His forehead furrowed, but he opened the door. She stepped through, past him, back turned so she wouldn’t trip over his troubled pale gaze and talk herself back into feeling again.
She came to the front window and stared out of it, her hand rubbing her aching right arm. Outside, the bird-of-paradise plants lurked in the darkness, leaves scratching the panes in small bursts of dying color.
“I thought you’d want to talk about the Vampire Killer, Dawn, but it sounds like you’ve got something else in mind.”
She could feel Matt behind her, probably unsure of how close he should get.
“First, I’ll tell you why I’m not here. We’re not going to talk about what happened the other night with Eva Claremont’s dress. We’re never going to mention that again. I just need your help to hunt down some problem vamps.”
She remembered how Frank had read Cassie, how he’d touched his neck. Maybe he’d end up being one of her enemies, too, but right now, Eva was the biggest one. Eva and her master.
She could hear Matt breathe out a deep huff behind her. “I thought you had all the help you needed with Limpet.”
“If what Jonah Limpet offers is help, I’d hate to see the opposite.” After all, he’d put Breisi in the position to die tonight by hoarding information, by even having this mission to find an Underground.
Dawn needed to know that she had backup if Jonah wasn’t going to be there to support her own vendetta. That’s where Matt was coming in.
Something flashed by the window—not quite there, but there all the same. A Friend on watch. Were they keeping tabs on how much Dawn said to Matt?
In back of her, he moved forward. “Dawn—”
She spun around, anticipating his touch on her shoulder. Left arm up, she attempted to block him, but instead accidentally caught his skin with her nails. He jerked his hand back, then wonderingly looked at the scratches she’d left.
“I’m sorry,” she said, voice gritty, “but this is business. Just…business.”
And that’s all it’d ever be.
His jaw clenched as he glared at the kitchen floor and planted his hands on his hips. The scratch was nothing to him, but she’d set him off by striking.
“I want to hire you to back me up, Matt. How much do you charge?”
“Too much.” He looked at her from beneath a lowered brow. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on and then we’ll talk about what happened with the Vampire Killer?”
“I’m not being a drama queen, if that’s what you’re getting at. My friend just got her throat cut open and—”
It felt like blades were slashing into her on all sides, and Dawn raised her arms to shield her face, to hide from Matt as she sank to her knees.
Breisi.
Dawn could still feel the slickness of blood under her palm, the futile pumping in Breisi’s neck as she fought to stay alive.
“She killed her,” Dawn said, emerging tears warping her voice. “Breisi died, and then the Vampire Killer…”
She trailed off. The real killer was Eva, because she’d only made a token effort to “save” Breisi, but she hadn’t wanted to—and that hesitation had made all the difference. Now, the only person Dawn could take at face value was dead.
“Who killed who…?” Matt got down on his knees, too. “You found the Vampire Killer? I saw what was on TV.”
Something gnawed at Dawn about what he’d just said, but it was beyond her. Instead, she uncovered her face, airing her rage as she struggled for a breath to help her stop crying. Her face was wet, exposed.
“I’m going to cut her in two.” Eva…she was going to kill Eva. “And all her vamp buddies. Then I’m going to take care of…”
Jonah.
Horrified, she halted before she could say his name. Why couldn’t she go on? Was all her training making her refuse to tell Matt about her boss? Or was it the soreness around her heart, a deep wound caused by his failure to save Breisi?
Or was it…shaken affection?
The realization shook her. Affection? She was going to make him pay, too. Breisi deserved better than to die because of Jonah’s damned causes.
Matt was leaning forward by now, his gaze wide, as if he was a mercenary staring at glistening gold. “You’re going to do what, Dawn? What?”
Chest tight, she allowed herself to breathe. To hesitate and think about what she was doing for once.
She licked her dry lips. “I’m going to find out why this happened.” Why Jonah had let it happen.
Yes. That made much more sense. Maybe she shouldn’t be here at all right now.
“You’re going to cut the Vampire Killer in two? Didn’t you already say she’s dead?” Matt was shaking his head, reaching out to her but knowing better not to touch. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you explain everything to me? Now, who died?”
“Breisi.” The name was a coiled tightness in her throat.
“I’m sorry, Dawn. I’m so sorry.”
He made as if to touch her again, but she jerked back. One sear of his skin against hers and it was over. She’d melt into him and dilute her hate. Dawn didn’t want that because the hate felt too good, too just.
“Don’t be sorry,” she said, “just hunt with me.”
His hands looked useless from the way he held them. “I want to help, but I’m still not sure what you’re asking me to do. I need you to tell me everything. I won’t go out there unarmed with a lack of information.”
Her mind locked up. She wanted to argue that he should tell her everything, too, but
it’d be fruitless. She was the one who needed his aid.
There was a gusting whoosh outside, a chop of wind. Matt fixed a glance on the window.
“The more you reveal,” he said, “the better off we’ll be.”
A prickle of unease stole over her. He sounded too demanding.
“Dawn?” he asked.
At that moment, she knew how stupid she was being. Coming here had been a strike against Jonah, a screw-you caused by the shock of Breisi’s death.
Or was she finally in the right place?
She stood, cuffing at the sticky tears, wanting to erase them. She needed to think some more, needed to get away.
“I’ve got to take care of something first.”
“Don’t go.” He seemed eager, rising to stand beside her. “Just talk to me. Don’t allow Limpet to control you. He’s done enough damage. Trust me.”
Eva’s dress floated past her mind’s eye, flowered poison.
She held up her hands, getting it together. “I’ll come back.”
And she would. God help her, being around him was sending off flares of need under her skin; she didn’t know how long she could keep herself off him in this moment of desperation. She wanted to feel life because death had struck her such a blow. She wanted to know that there was still some good around.
But…no. Not with Matt. He was Eva’s. How many times did she have to remind herself of that?
“I’ll call.” She rushed toward his door.
He reached out for her again, but she yanked her arm away, sending him a hurt glare.
It was enough.
He turned around, his broad back to her as she left.
Shaken, she shut the door behind her and took a deep fill of oxygen. What had she almost done?
As the Friends surrounded her on the walk back to her car, her doubts set in again.
Should she have talked to Matt? Or was Jonah really on the right side? There wasn’t anyone to turn to now….
Dawn got into her car, starting it. She had to ask The Voice, once and for all, what the hell was happening.
And if he wouldn’t answer, that’s when she’d know what to do.
INSIDE Matt Lonigan’s house, the “private investigator” turned away from the window as Dawn’s taillights streamed into the distance, disappearing from view like the extinguishing of red eyes in the night.
Glancing at the back of his hand, he inspected the blood-thick scratches she’d given him during their spat, but even if she’d been angry, he knew she’d be back again. Dawn was caught between the Scylla and Charybdis, and she needed him.
He walked to the bolted door, removing the basketball backboard before unlocking it and opening the entrance. Welcome darkness. The scent of dank comfort. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and securing it. While climbing down the stairs, his boot steps echoed against the tunnel walls.
The walk was a long, subterranean stroll. His form tingled, reacting to the nearing proximity of his home, shifting degree by degree. The scratches Dawn had given him healed because he willed them gone. In fact, whenever he was in Matt’s body Above, he could choose to delay any patch-up work, just to seem more human—prone to injury. He could also be seen on film, in mirrors. He could slow vitals on others, too.
Step by step, his shape quivered, the illusion of clothes seeping into his core, his features disappearing into the vaporous blur he preferred most times.
But when he arrived at a holding chamber, he shifted back into the body he’d been doubling Above. On second thought, he wasn’t quite ready for his fun to end yet.
Scratching at the rock, Benedikte—also known as “Matt”—waited for the door to open.
Inside the holding room, the real Matt Lonigan turned away from Tamsin Greene, holding her jeweled fingers in his cupped hand. He was being entertained by the Elite while waiting to switch off with Benedikte and go back Above to do his own Servant work.
“Done already?” Tamsin asked as Matt let go of her.
The Master nodded. “Sounds like there were some snags, but the most important parts were taken care of. Breisi Montoya and the Vampire Killer have been reported dead.”
He gestured for Tamsin to leave, knowing her Underground vows would keep her from spreading news about these activities to the lower vampires.
With one last saucy glance at the human Matt, she pulled her sheer, filmy white peignoir around her and exited.
The Servant saluted his master, never losing any of his affable ease. “You were quick this time.”
“I had to get back—all this nonsense about the Guards not returning from their watch duty is causing concern. The Vampire Killer’s camera transmission hasn’t helped to clear up what’s going on, either, since we couldn’t see anything that happened after it cut out.”
Benedikte knew why the broadcast had been sliced short. Earlier, after Dawn had surprised “Matt”—the Master—on the phone, he’d contacted the Underground to see why she was out of Eva’s care. Interestingly enough, a breathless Eva herself had just come Underground and revealed a wild story to Sorin: it seemed that Frank Madison had rescued Dawn, then had gotten wind of the whole plan and taken his hunter daughter with him out to the woods in order to save his coworker Breisi. The fighters had no doubt been the reason for the Vampire Killer’s transmission interruption.
Luckily for the Underground, Frank and Dawn had ended up playing right into the most important parts of the plan.
Across the room, human Matt was putting on his long coat. He was a PI who’d been lured to the Underground nearly a decade ago—one of their most loyal Servants, always cooperating to the fullest. That’s why it’d been so natural for the Master to double him.
“So everything’s in place?” the human asked.
“Seems so. Breisi Montoya, Limpet’s best fighter, is gone. Kiko Daniels, their psychic, has mental powers no decent team would depend on at this point, and he’s physically unable to stand against us. Many of their spirits are neutralized, too, because now that we know how to captivate Limpet’s main resource, his little army is nothing.”
“So Limpet’s all alone now,” Matt said.
“Almost.” Something inside of Benedikte throbbed—a craving, a wounding hunger. “You’d probably agree that Dawn is the wild card, but I can tell you that she’s primed to come to our side.”
“All ours.” The PI smiled.
The Master’s hackles rose. “Not quite.”
The Servant obviously knew what that meant. Dawn didn’t belong to human Matt at all. In fact, he’d never even come face-to-face with her. Bringing her Underground—and using her to take down Limpet—had been the plan all along, ever since they’d heard she was back in Hollywood.
“Let Limpet attack now,” Benedikte added. “We’ll be ready for any ineffectual attempts.”
“Congratulations.” Matt reached out to shake hands, but pulled back when he realized it was too familiar. “We’re almost done with the enemy. Pretty soon, it’ll be back to good times.”
Benedikte accepted the handshake anyway. “Now, I need you to go Above and fetch Charity Flynn, otherwise known as Amanda Grace. We’re gathering all Elites, and she might need an escort to tear her away from her big premiere tonight.”
“Got it.”
The Master went on to brief the Servant as much as he could since the PI needed to know every interaction with Dawn so the masquerade would be complete, in case he ever did run into Dawn himself. He even went so far as to strike the stalwart human with wounds that matched the ones Dawn had inflicted on Benedikte. Then Matt took his leave.
Like Tamsin, he cast one last look back, bemusement clearly written all over his face.
It must’ve been strange to see your own body doubled—a walking, talking mirror reflection in life’s funhouse.
And that’s what existence had indeed become since Dawn Madison had arrived—bright, intriguing, and hopeful.
Within minutes, the real Matt finally left to return
to his home Above, where he’d take up where the “other Matt” had left off, discretely going about life as usual in his regular job at the private investigation firm. He’d never been hired by any “mysterious client” to find Frank Madison—that had only been the Master’s ruse to get close to Dawn. A good ruse. And Matt also wasn’t a vampire hunter, as she clearly suspected. But there were a couple of truths to the charade: the real Matt’s parents had been murdered, even though Servants had gone on the Internet and planted news stories to dramatize the circumstances. Using Bruce Wayne’s mythology as a backstory had been too tempting for Benedikte to resist, but everyone Above had worked with that.
Alone now, the Master took a moment to compose himself. Preparation, the actors called it. Finally, he’d become one of them, no longer a coward who didn’t want to see if he had what it took to “make it.” With this body he’d assumed for Dawn’s sake, he was performing the most award-worthy role in existence.
Eva would be proud.
He left the room, closing it up, then continued his tunnel walk toward the Underground. All the while, he transformed back into his most comfortable form: vapor-thick darkness.
As he transitioned, he thought of Dawn again, as he did more and more every day. His. She wasn’t terribly pure, but that could be changed. Like the movies they made Above, the right props and scripts could make her the perfect woman someday.
He’d taken so many risks to be with her, made a few miscalculations, too—especially when he’d given Eva’s dress to her. That had been idiotic, and it still bothered him. He’d been too intent on merging mother and daughter that night. But now he’d slow down, never do anything so heedless again. With Eva’s help—and with “Matt’s”—Dawn would be manipulated into bringing down Limpet.
Floating the rest of the way into the Underground, Benedikte went straight to a private room.
He stopped outside a one-way window, looking in from the outside. Through the pane, he could see Sorin scowling at a tentative Eva and her new guest.
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