And in this disillusionment, she’s going to turn to family and also to the one man Above who offers her help. That’s Matt Lonigan. And you know I’ve got that covered.
When Dawn had first gotten involved, Benedikte had been the one to come up with the masquerade. Since he could shift into diverse forms, it only made sense. “Matt” would be there to place doubt in Dawn’s mind about anyone else except him, just as he’d done a month ago at Klara Monaghan’s crime scene. “Matt” would win her over, would direct her suspicions about these Vampire Killer murders away from actual vampires.
“Matt” was invaluable.
Besides, Benedikte had longed to meet her, and when he realized just how much she could help the Underground, justifying his growing attachment to her had been simple. And when there’d been an entire month during the lockdown when he’d only been able to phone her, excuses about his absence had been easy, too.
It was all easy.
The Master was having the time of his life with this acting, even if Sorin hadn’t liked this charade one bit. But Benedikte had been careful to shield himself 99.9 percent of the time, and his son had to admit that these trips had given his father a reason to exist again. Who could argue with that?
Sorin had grown quiet. He tilted his head as he considered Eva, reflecting in the usual inquisitive vampire pose.
You absolutely trust her, his son said.
Benedikte lavished a gaze over his angel, taking in her long blond hair, her pure beauty, and ignoring how she watched Frank with such delicate longing. In her, he saw everything that used to move him while sitting in a place of worship.
I trust her with everything, Sorin.
Yes, Master. But you know what Elites are capable of. They captivate the world with their acting. Do you not think she could do the same to you?
Benedikte could feel himself heating up to a sizzle.
You’re questioning me again. His thoughts were as low as a growl. Haven’t I brought us this far?
No answer. Benedikte took that as a yes.
The Master smiled. Maybe you’ll only be satisfied when I have Limpet’s head on a stick?
Now Sorin glanced over at the one-way mirror, his smile reflecting his maker’s. That would satisfy me a great deal.
Then it’s time to finally wipe our hands of our enemy…quietly, as usual.
When his son chuckled out loud, a ravaged Eva turned away from her nonresponsive husband to face Sorin, then the mirror.
As she cocked her head, the Master pressed closer against the glass, tilting his head, too, worshipping her from a dangerous distance.
TWENTY-SEVEN
THE SCARS
A S Dawn all but stumbled up to the front door of the Limpet house, the UV lights blasted on, stinging her eyes.
She opened then slammed shut the door. “Kiko?”
She sounded like she was about to jump off a cliff, and maybe that was the truth. Nothing made sense, and it seemed like the only way to make things better was to annihilate herself then build from scratch.
But the only response she got was her own thin voice, chopping back at her from the corners of the house.
Why didn’t she ever get answers?
Anger exploded, pushing Dawn into a run toward Breisi’s lab door. She knew it’d be locked, but she needed to try to get in anyway. Pounding with her fists, kicking, she took perverse pleasure at the punishment the door was taking.
But soon, her minor kicks and punches turned into flails, then a fight to keep back more tears.
“Damn this.” Dawn slammed her heel against the door, once, again. She leaned her head against it. “Damn…every…thing…”
A click caused her to stumble forward, the door giving way. Breathing heavily, she watched as it cracked open.
For a second, she could only stare. Breisi had always kept the door as secure as an armory’s, and Dawn had only been able to imagine what was down there.
What kind of science experiments, fantastic inventions?
Holding back the sorrow, Dawn rubbed her hands over her face, preparing herself to find out.
A droning buzz escorted her down a stone staircase. It was illuminated by lifeless blue light, which only grew stronger as Dawn descended farther, hand against the granite wall.
Buzzzzzz…
The sound attacked her, but she didn’t dare cover her ears. Ignoring her pained arm, she pulled out her whip chain.
But when she reached the bottom, she dropped her weapon.
The blue light was coming from the ceiling, which had been designed to look like a heaven, complete with painted clouds amidst soft azure neon fixtures. Below, an army of computers, plus the expected lab equipment, stood abandoned: steel tables holding the unfinished structures of projects Breisi would never fool around with again, space-agey machines Dawn couldn’t even begin to explain. But there was also a trundle bed with white railing and fluffy linen bedclothes and pillows. Next to that stood a lace-mantilla-covered end table with a reading lamp and pictures of a very young Breisi and her grandmother hugging.
Dawn walked over to pick up one of those. It felt like her ribs had turned inward, bleeding her.