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.