“We’re not the villains, Dawnie,” she said.
Dawn flinched at the nickname. Then, automatically her inner smart-ass kicked in, and she held up her hands, showcasing the chains to remind Eva of who was playing jailhouse warden here.
With a touché glance, Eva nodded sadly, as if admitting that the ends justified the means. Then she turned to Frank, lavishing a look of such profound affection on him that Dawn blushed. It got even worse when he turned away, a man caught between two impossible forces.
“Breisi,” Dawn whispered to him, encouraging her dad to take a side.
Abruptly, Eva flew at Dawn, catching her T-shirt in her fists. “Don’t—”
But when she realized what she was doing, she cocked her head, gently let Dawn go, and backed away. “Don’t say that name in my house again.”
Then she let out a long breath, as if destroyed that Frank had found someone else. As if deflated that her daughter actually liked the woman who’d replaced her.
Then she turned around and went through the door, closing it behind her.
No doubt taking great care to slip quietly back to her real family Underground, as all Elites did.
TWENTY-ONE
SUPERSTARRING
S OMEONE had made the deal of all deals last night.
This time, while waiting in a rental car that Someone always took great care to clean, the Vampire Killer wouldn’t even have to go through the trouble of choosing a victim from the ValuShoppe parking lot. No, everything would be different with this next murder because…
Well, last night, “Servants,” as they’d called themselves once they were belowground, had caught Someone leaving Annie Foxworth’s apartment. Thank heavens it’d all turned out for the best though, because after they’d brought Someone to “the Master,” he’d made an astounding offer.
Someone still couldn’t believe it. A vampire. A real vampire!
“Fame,” the compelling man had said, his eyes a swirling, visual promise of that one elusive word. “We’ve heard about your killing talents, and we want to put them to good use. Would you believe that we have the power to make you a fixture on every TV set in America? Yes, it’s true. Everyone is going to forget about Lee if you pull off what we have planned.” He’d smiled then—so godlike, so loving. “You’ll last in everyone’s minds forever. Lee was just a flash in the night, but you’ll be a star.”
Someone had given in to the seduction: the glory, the spotlight, the lure of being just as special as a creature like the Master. He’d offered all of it, and Someone knew it would kill the Lee.
The only catch was that the Master had selected tonight’s quarry, calling this murder a “favor” that would benefit all of them, including Someone. Right now, the hunt wasn’t as gut-level satisfying as the real thing, but after it was over, the Master would welcome Someone into the Underground, and the satisfaction would go way beyond a thrill kill.
This was the ultimate way to best the Lee.
While Someone watched the next victim walk out of a now-closed hardware store and to a parked vehicle, juices ran hot again. The grip of a weapon was clammy against a palm sliding with sweat. Tonight, the vampires had given Someone a Taser, because they wanted their victim alive.
At least for now.
This performance would take place in front of a crowd. A ratings monster, Someone thought. A swan song before retiring Underground to drink blood with real fangs.
Blood had started to taste so good.
Through the windshield, Someone could see that the victim already had car keys in hand, the other hand hidden.
Someone slipped in the set of fake fangs purchased from a Goth store on the Internet with a borrowed credit card, then made sure they were secured tightly.
Open the car door. Quietly, so quiet. Eyes always on the prize, wig off and head scrubbed so as not to leave fibers; clothing black and common enough to deflect any attention.
Tonight, even the Lee Tomlinson would be a fan because he’d never reached these heights. The Master had told Someone that the Lee had wanted to be a vampire so badly he’d killed for it.
Feeling superior, Someone crept toward the victim on stealthy feet, masked in the dark. Around the empty parking lot, Servants watched to make sure everything went smoothly. This kill was that important.
The Lee would never talk down to Someone again because he’d have no right to. Fuck him. Fuck him for fucking—
Brutal images slashed through Someone: Lee wrenching Someone’s arm up between shoulder blades, whispering, “I’m stronger and smarter than you’ll ever be. I’m the Lee Tomlinson, and you’re nobody.” Someone had bit their pillow the whole time, mouth full of linen, spit, and bleach, belly scraping the mattress during each thrust—