As if knowing what she was thinking, he murmured, “Time has bent us all into forms we do not recognize.”
She held her breath. Did he know how much she’d been wondering about what she’d become, too?
Kiko had backed away, closer to where Frank was looming by Dawn’s shoulder. She could feel them standing behind her.
“Costin, do you know what to expect out of Benedikte?” the psychic asked. It sounded like a way to send their boss off gracefully.
Had Kiko been moved by Costin’s unburdening, too?
The mention of the mission at hand seemed to help Costin in sitting up and returning to soldier readiness, his shoulders straight and only slightly pushed down by a personal situation left unresolved. “I can take what we know about these Elite vampires and make an educated guess as to Benedikte’s specifics. Yet, as we already know, each blood brother seems to develop different talents based on individual strengths, so I cannot rely on past experience with the other masters to guide me.”
“Different talents,” Kiko mulled. “Just like the Fantastic Four. The same storm hit them, but one could stretch his body, and one could turn into a fire fiend—”
He cut himself off, realizing this wasn’t helping.
“How do you work, Costin?” Dawn asked, putting off the inevitable: the moment he would walk out of here. Even with everything he’d done to her, she was getting worried about letting him go Underground to face overwhelming odds. She’d seen those vampires, seen just a hint of what Benedikte could do with his own body.
“You are no doubt wondering about what you witnessed with Jonah,” Costin said, nodding, as if he’d expected to be put on trial for his earlier actions.
“Yeah,” Kiko said, “what was with him just wandering into your office? You were always real careful about talking to us through the speakers and never letting us see that Jonah was . . .”
“His own person?” Costin finished. “He is that, even if I am a part of him now. Though Jonah knows he is usually not to contact my team, I asked him to do it, just this one time, in order to goad Dawn to the Underground with the locator.”
“That’s one question down,” Kiko said.
As Costin sat in silence, the ticking of the clock on the nightstand clamored, a banging countdown for the approaching moment when he would leave for the big showdown. With each thud, Dawn’s pulse accelerated.
Maybe something will happen so this can all be avoided, she thought. Maybe he’ll change his mind about going and . . .
Give up his soul in the bargain?
Costin stood, ambling over to Breisi’s empty picture, his hands clasped behind his back.
Tick, tick, tick, tick . . .
“When the old man allowed me to enter his body,” Costin continued, “I found that I had certain . . . advantages. I could manipulate people with my mind—‘hypnosis,’ it came to be called. I did have to work to perfect my skills, and I found that I must use them in small doses. Every effort weakens me until I am able to regain strength through rest and occasional sustenance.”
Rest, Dawn thought. Like he got when he went into that fire-field portrait in his office—a background of the hell Costin had endured in his vampire body. But . . . sustenance?
“Could you use all your powers right away?” Kiko asked. “I mean, the ones you tried to teach me, too?”
“Yes, I came ‘fully loaded.’ ” Costin continued to look at Breisi’s empty picture. “Persuading others, creating illusions, reading minds—these are part of my arsenal.”
Dawn tried to reconcile what he was saying with what she’d been through with him. That first night she’d met Costin, his voice had seemed so persuasive. It’d even entered her.
Illusions? Mind reading and entering?
“When I met you . . .” she began.
Costin unclasped his hands, his back still to them. “That was me using my powers to test you, Dawn.”
“And the time in the boudoir?” she asked, forgetting herself in front of Kiko and her dad.
“Er,” Kiko said in back of her, “Dawn, why don’t you catch us up on everything later?”
She turned to find the psychic tugging at Frank to come with him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—” Frank began.
“No, really,” Kiko interrupted. “We can wait for when Dawn comes upstairs.”
She realized how uncomfortable Kiko had to be with the subject she’d brought up. How uncomfortable she’d be discussing kinky Voice nookie in front of her own dad.
Giving Kik a thankful look, she watched as he urged Frank up the stairs, promising him that he would fill in the other blank spaces while Dawn and Costin sorted their own stuff out.
When they were gone, Dawn turned back to the enigma.
Tick, tick, tick, went the clock.
“Well?” she asked, but the question held none of her usual vinegar. “Do you remember it or not, that time in the boudoir when we . . . well, did it, in front of the mirror?” Back then, her mind had gone fuzzy when he’d first come to her. His Jonah body had been in another place—behind the bookcase—while his voice had seemed to be with her.
Now, Costin only allowed Dawn to see Jonah’s profile—one half of his tragically carved face. “At first, I did use hypnosis with you, yes. You wanted to know about me, and that left you open.”
And that was how he’d projected his voice and fooled her. “But when I felt you physically, even though you were invisible?”
“My spirit, rented though it is, left Jonah’s body to come to you.” To feed off of her.
“You felt like flesh and blood,” she said.
“I might have persuaded you to think so.”
So that was hypnosis, too? Or had it been him, a being she’d wanted to feel, to be consumed by?
The question warmed her where she didn’t want to be warmed. The heat dragged her down, made her want to cry at truly being so attached to him.
Accordingly, she toughened up. “And when Jonah himself came to me in the office and used Kalin to bind me?”
“You already know.” Costin fully turned away from her again. “Jonah was taking what he is entitled to take: a breather. It is our understanding that he gets his body back for a short time daily, while I go away.”
Into the field of fire picture, she thought.
“And when I found you praying in front of your crucifix in your quarters,” she asked, “and . . . Jonah’s eyes were blue while he was watching you feed off of me . . . ?”
“I lost control that time, traveling out of body in error, in . . . excitement.” He softened his voice. “I could not help myself when you walked in.”
Before she could do something silly like fall at his feet, she bucked up. Crazy. This was all nuts. Yet, with each tick of the clock, it was closer to being over. . . .
Oh, God, over. What if Costin lost against Benedikte?
No . . . what if he won?
She rushed to ask another question. “This story you just told us, about how you got out of jail? While you were talking, was that hypnosis, the way you brought us into the action?”
“Yes, your minds were open and it illustrated nuances that I don’t have the luxury of verbally dwelling upon just now.”
At her limits, she got out of the chair, but didn’t go near him, even though she wanted to. Didn’t want to. Did. Didn’t—
“Why do you go in and out of Jonah’s body?” she asked, fighting to stay away. “Wouldn’t it be smarter to—?”
“He is entitled to be himself every so often. It is part of our bargain, although I didn’t expect him to begin taking such advantage of his free time, as he did when he persuaded Kalin to bind you. Unfortunately, her temper made her an easy ally against the woman she considers a threat for affection.”
Don’t give in; don’t give in. . . . “Why did Jonah do it?”
“Because Jonah . . .” Costin shook his head and let out a long breath. Even with his back turned, his expression was eloquent. “He covets.
Though I do thorough research for each body I desire, I didn’t do it well enough with this one.”
Dawn looked for signs of Jonah, himself, rebelling to get this body back, but didn’t find any. Costin was in control.
“I have made arrangements for another,” Costin added.
“Another?”
“I plan on assuming my new host’s body after I finish today’s work.” He put his hands behind his back again and sauntered away from Breisi’s picture and to her lab table, aimless. The glass jars and beakers were cloudy with a fresh, silvered residue, as if only recently having been used but not yet cleaned. “Clearly, Jonah is in this particular battle with me. And if we survive it, because there is always a slim—”
“You will.” It’d come out unchecked, powered by hope.
Costin looked up, the joyful surprise on his face making her backtrack.
“I mean,” she said, “the world kind of needs you to win.”
“Of course.” Not fooled at all, Costin went back to surveying the equipment, a dark smile lingering. “You see, when I first approached Jonah, it was when my former body was on its last legs. We had lived a good life together, vanquishing a master. During my research, I discovered Jonah had lost his parents and was a recluse—a wealthy one. He suited my needs beautifully, and it turned out that he was more than willing to be my next host, even after everything was explained to him. I always find this to be a fortunate thing—my hosts are usually men who lack excitement, all loners disconnected from society in some way, all looking for a cause to justify their existences. All physically strong and vital, yet they crave a new life, and I promise that to them. However, they understand they might die because of my quest.” Costin negligently ran a finger over a glass beaker. “In past situations, hosts have been slain, though my essence was able to escape to a new form that I had already secured and I was able to continue my mission. Today, my new body will be standing by, distant enough to remain safe, close enough to be convenient.”
“What if you don’t get out of a host body before it . . . dies?”
The being before her—she wasn’t sure what else to call Costin—loitered over the beaker. “If I am somehow caught in my host’s body during his death—if I should need to anchor to the strength and sustenance he gives me because I am too weak to escape, for instance—my quest is over. I will have failed and will perish in damnation since I would not be able to escape the useless host and redeem myself. The effect is that of a collapsed cave; the dead matter would trap me inside and my soul would be forfeit to the fire.”
Oh. Dawn didn’t know what to say.
In spite of the news, Costin got his arrogant poise back. “I do not anticipate that happening. Jonah is strong.”
“But . . .” Dawn narrowed her eyes. “You’ve picked out your next host already. Who is it?”
“No one you know—a quiet software genius who never makes headlines. I found him a while ago. This did not please Jonah, of course, and I have done my best to appease him.” Costin paused in his chemistry set inspection. “Ours is a symbiotic relationship, yet a respectful one. I’m always careful with the bodies because I am in awe of what they are willing to do for the quest.”
“Do you ever feel bad for inhabiting them?” Dawn asked.
“Absolutely.”
“But the good of the many outweighs—”
“The good of the few. I know it well, Dawn. You have drilled it into my head.”
She started to smile but stopped herself.
He must’ve sensed that he was never going to win her over. She could see it when he stopped messing with the beakers.
“They all have their reasons for wishing to house me,” he said, “mainly because of that sense of high justice you love to note. But . . . I came to find out that this was not altogether the case with Jonah, though he is committed. He is a smart man and was able to fool me into believing that he only wanted to aid in cleansing the world.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he was attracted to my very existence. He thought my offer ‘glamorous’ and ‘romantic.’ ”
She hesitated, then went for it, not really knowing why she was daring. “And what does this have to do with him using Kalin to bind me?”
Tick, tick, tick . . .
“Is it not obvious?” Costin faced her. “I desire you more than anything, and that means he does, too.”
If a body could liquefy, hers would’ve done it. But a blast of icy reality kept her whole.
He desired her more than anything except for his soul.
Uncomfortable with the obvious intensity of his need for her, Dawn kept talking, hoping it would cancel out the real reason he hadn’t left yet, the real reason she was trying to get him to stay. A reason she couldn’t admit to.
“Are you saying Jonah’s unstable?” she asked. “Would you be looking for a new body even if you didn’t need a backup after this battle?” She gestured toward him. “And doesn’t Jonah hear you talking about this?”
“He knew back when I first caught on to his real feelings and began to make arrangements. That is why . . .”
Costin motioned to the scars on his face, and Dawn got it.
You’re looking for someone else, aren’t you? Jonah had said in the cutting vision. You aren’t happy with me anymore.
“It is only recently,” Costin added, “that Jonah’s longing for my life has come to a head. I know his thoughts. We share much since my temporary spirit presses down upon his and releases it only when I leave the body. We live in close range, within sharing distance. But now Jonah believes he can be me, and my life seems within his reach.”
“What’s keeping you from going into that backup’s body?”
“Jonah has sacrificed much to help me. He is a true believer, in spite of everything else.” Costin shook his head. “And I depend upon him just as much as he does me. We are in the thick of the hunt, and he is trained for what must be done. I cannot leave him so easily right now.”
Dawn took a couple of steps forward, then reined herself in. “Isn’t there a choice? There’s always a choice.” But she knew she was being idealistic. Yeah, Dawn Madison—Pollyanna.
“Choice does not rate high at the moment,” Costin said. “Because you know what is at stake.”
She knew. Damn it, she knew.
As if she hadn’t heard enough, he continued. “And I would suffer a million more centuries of this existence before becoming what I was.”
An awareness so heavy draped over her that she couldn’t meet his gaze. Not like this. Not until she got back some sense of control.
“So even though Jonah is your cover,” she asked, “he can’t go outside, either, even during his breathers?”
“That is right. My team does the groundwork while my host and I wait in anticipation of the work I must do in the end. We must hide behind these protected walls from a master’s Awareness, which can be developed among the brothers. That is, if a master chooses to risk using it.” Costin walked closer to her, yet kept his distance. “Besides, after Jonah scarred himself, he preferred to stay in darkness because he was ashamed of what he had done. So when I finally revealed what I looked like to you . . .”
The night when Breisi had died . . .
“Jonah was angry,” he finished. “But I told him that the appearance kept you here, kept your curiosity leveled, and he came to accept my choice. He becomes agitated whenever it seems as if you will leave.”
Tick, tick—
The clock banged away, reminding her that Costin was about to leave. Almost time, almost time . . .
“I understand now,” she said. “You . . . me . . . the feedings . . . You need an attachment.”
“Yes. Whether human, whether vampire, there is a commonality. We all have cravings. It is the caliber of them that distinguishes us from the monsters.”
Cravings: her addiction to easy sex, her hard feelings toward Eva . . . her yearning to be just like her mother.
&nb
sp; They had all flowed from one to the other, keeping her alive, or at least feeling that way.
“Then you live off sex,” she asked, “like an . . .”
“Incubus? No. That is not what nourishes me.” He clasped his hands. “Humanity. I must take root in it to survive. And the power you have inside of you is enough to fuel me beyond anything else I have felt before.”
He came even closer, and Dawn’s body reawakened.
“When I am away from Jonah,” he added, “I take rest in the field of fire. I dream in fire. I will it to be so, because every lick of flame reminds me of what I have to lose. But I cannot stay away from my host for long—not even with you. Every hour that I am apart from Jonah eats away at my spirit until it is in danger of disappearing.”
“What? Why?”
“The Whisper was kind enough to explain that it is a safety mechanism of sorts—a method to ensure that I keep to my deal and do not attempt an escape from my chosen shelter with my rented soul. I am tied to my duties as an enforcer for the higher powers that have given me this second chance.”
“You wouldn’t abandon your mission anyway,” she said.
“Yet my mysterious benefactors wanted to be certain of my loyalty, and that is understandable. So I never stray far from Jonah. And when I do, it is never for too long or too often.”
He risked a few steps nearer to her, increasing the tension between them. Dawn wanted to close the space intersecting their bodies, but . . . After everything he’d put her through?
She broke away, and Costin looked bereft. She tried to take pleasure from that. Tried.
“Kind of like a vamp,” she said, emotions flailing until they snagged on the only thing that kept her solid—distance. “What with you needing a willing participant to be your host and allow you inside them. That’s just like a vamp.”
She’d hit the target. He looked assassinated, stunned, and profoundly disappointed by the attack. The thing was, she saw it only around the lines of his mouth. The rest of him was still a soldier, impenetrable.
Break of Dawn Page 24