Dawn drank again, waiting. Baiting.
Finally, the actress’s gaze broke away. “It seems like you don’t like her much.”
“Why’s that?”
“Look at you.” Jac held her hand out, chock-full of empathy. “You scream hatred, Dawn.”
That was it—an invitation to say everything she’d always wanted to, whether or not Jac deserved it.
“She’s dogged me my whole life, and not in the way a mom should. It was always, ‘Why aren’t you as pretty?’ ‘Why aren’t you as talented?’ ‘Why aren’t you as sweet?’ And you know what? I went the other way in every category. I got tired of competing with her as soon as I was old enough to feel inferior, and that was real early, believe me.”
She felt so much better now that she was directing her wrath at the proper place, not inwardly, not at every other person who happened to cross her path.
Jac’s voice quavered. “She wouldn’t…I mean, don’t you think she would just want you to be happy if she were alive? Don’t you think she’d do anything to make that happen? Just…you’ve got to stop competing with her, Dawn. I’m sure that would’ve made her so sad.”
Throat closing with heat, Dawn held up a finger. “There’s no way I can compete—do you know why?”
“Why?” Jac said, eyes getting watery.
“Because Eva Claremont is the big winner.” Dawn was shaking now. “She took the top prize in the Desert Your Family Sweepstakes, and I’ll be damned if I ever compete for that title again.”
If Jac were the real Eva, she’d understand that. Eva hadn’t ever died. She’d literally left her family to go Underground.
Jac’s empty hand covered her heart for a second, her gaze exploding with such emotion that Dawn nearly went into defensive mode, ready to fight and bring it all down.
But then, just as if the girl’s response had only been subliminal—a vision spliced between the frames of a filmstrip—it was gone.
Instead, she was shaking her head, holding her drink to her chest like it was a comfort object. “Dawn, poor Dawn.”
Squeezing shut her eyes, Dawn fought—what? Was it disappointment that she hadn’t flushed out Eva? Or was it bottom-sucking disgust at not wanting to admit that her mom really was dead?
God, dead…
“Why don’t you sit down, Dawn.”
She felt Jac guiding her to a chair, felt the give of wicker at her back and the softness of a cushion at her bottom. She buried her face in a hand. Above her, Jac hesitated, probably knowing Dawn wasn’t going to talk anymore right now.
“I’ll get us something else to drink, okay?” Jac said, stroking Dawn’s hair from her forehead. “I’ll be right back, and we can settle in for a long chat.”
As she left, Dawn intuitively knew that Jac was letting her regain composure. Wasn’t that the sign of a friend? And didn’t that friend deserve to be treated better?
She opened her eyes, leaning her head back, taking in the stars that blurred in the sky with the heat of oncoming tears.
I don’t want to be this way anymore, she thought. I can’t keep being this way.
She evened out her breathing, focusing on the sky until it cleared.
You’ve got to make things right when she comes back. Apologize and move on—
A dark, blurred figure suddenly filled Dawn’s sight. Before she could react, a glowing gaze locked her in place, eyes blazing and swirling into a whoosh of indescribable colors. It felt like a burning fist was breaking into her, slicing through her pliant body, drawing her up to the edge of her chair.
Mind screw?…just like Robby when he attacked?…block it, stop it….
Dawn pushed out with all the inner energy she could muster. It wasn’t fast enough—
But it was good enough to smack the attacking mind halfway out of hers, good enough to keep the other out of her deepest memories and thoughts.
Still, her limbs were pinned to her sides, not because her strength was gone, but because she couldn’t think of how to move.
Where was her Friend protection? Dawn realized she hadn’t smelled jasmine for a while. Had her defense somehow been driven away?
“Just relax,” said the unknown assailant, the hypnotic voice becoming Dawn’s everything. “Allow me to come in.”
No, she thought. Never.
The other’s power seeped into her, turning muscle and bone to stilled liquid.
“There…”
The tone, so gentle and warped, dragged her down into a watery limbo where sounds became muffled and slow, where heaviness pushed at her from every side.
Falling, floating down until she didn’t have the strength to even think of driving him out anymore.
Too lazy, too surreal…
Triumphantly, the creature stepped forward, light from the reflecting pool below casting blue wavers over his stunning face.
“I’d like you to accept my drink invitation this time,” Paul Aspen said, “but now, I’ll be the one who’s imbibing.”
FIFTEEN
THE BIG DRINK