The second lawyer nodded at Sorin, assuring him that he would be able to accomplish this as well as Mr. Crockett could.
“Besides,” the first lawyer continued, clearly making a case to prove his value, “you know Lee’s mind was wiped, erasing all his vampire memories but leaving all the others, before you gave him over to me. It was just as effective as Marla Pennybaker’s treatment, and it’s not possible for him to slip up and reveal anything about the Underground. All the public will see during his trial is a wannabe actor who worked at a Goth bar. They’ll know without a doubt that he was one of those humans who only wishes vampires existed. The world is used to people like him, and no credence is paid to their beliefs. They’ll think Lee’s need to feast on a woman’s throat was the act of a psychotic. He doesn’t even know what he was doing.”
All this trouble because of breaking the rules, the Master mused to Sorin, hovering ever nearer to the unaware Mr. Crockett. Always ask for permission to feed off our partners, we’ve said. Willingness to join us means they won’t resist and they’ll be open to never revealing us. Lee didn’t understand that.
This was true of the blood vampires imbibed to survive, but the Master, ah, the true Master was a Soul Taker. Souls were his manna, his sustenance, the only way he could feel real emotion. Sorin had never understood the Master’s compulsion, never once in over three hundred years since his father had created him.
Not until recently, when there were times he…
Sorin discarded the very thought, setting his mind back on track.
Perhaps feeding on a human’s life force was not so odd—for the Master. It had aided him in emerging from a lengthened depression, after all. Souls had helped to awaken the old vampire. Did they also have the power to—
Yes, the Master said. It’s sublime, my son. They have the power to make you into whatever you wish to be. I keep telling you to try it.
Once again turning aside from the horrifying idea, Sorin stood from his relaxed position against the smooth waterfall rocks and sheathed himself in his long, black robes. “Are you telling me, Mr. Crockett, that Lee Tomlinson’s case is well in hand?”
“Yes, Master. Even before I took care of calling in the anonymous tip that gave the authorities his location, I’ve had everything well in hand.”
Excellent, Sorin thought. In the Servant’s haste to seem indispensable, he had given assurance that Mr. Harris would be able to take over all “fixer” duties. The Underground had layers upon layers of Servants who handled surreptitious matters Above, and every familiar was rewarded with the joys down Below. It was a prize for vowing to never speak of the paradise’s existence.
One less familiar would not harm the Underground.
The Master positioned himself over Mr. Crockett’s head.
“You understand,” Sorin continued, “that Lee Tomlinson is not our only worry, of course. This new murder Above echoes the troubling situation Lee Tomlinson brought upon us with Klara Monaghan. Hence, we are being forced to emerge from our retreat and risk using spies again to stop this killer from inadvertently revealing us. After what occurred with Robby Pennybaker and Limpet and Associates, your revealed identity is a risk we should not otherwise be undergoing.”
Lee Tomlinson’s actions, as well as the Elite Robby Pennybaker’s, had caused an Underground lockdown. There had also been heightened concern when a Guard had discovered tiny mechanical devices on its clothing before it had returned Underground with Marla Pennybaker in tow. In response, many lesser Servants had not been granted access except for investigative purposes as well as blood-food for the rest of them. Additionally, Groupies were not allowed Above until Sorin and the Master were confident in the community’s ability to withstand a takeover.
They were not at that point yet, but they were close. Sorin had been refining the manufactured Guards, polishing away their shortcomings, and they all had been training in war arts. In essence, casual vampire activity Above had been discouraged, so they could, as the Master would say, “lie low.”
But with this new preternatural-type murder, they had no choice but to act. The appearance of the corpse, Jessica Reese, would only stir up groups such as Limpet and Associates, especially since no Underground vampire knew who this murderer was. Could it be a creature who was not related to the Underground? Or perhaps it was another Servant who wished to show the Master that they were worthy of being a full vampire, as Lee Tomlinson had reasoned. Sorin had already checked into the minds of the Guards, the Servants, the Groupies, and even many of the Elites to determine if the murderer had been one of their own. Thus far, it had not.
Milton Crockett was sweating in earnest now. “I understand Robby’s and Lee’s actions might have caused harm. But you know I would never let that happen, Master. You know that I would sacrifice anything to be here.”
“Even your family?”