Someone shook their head to dislodge the flashes, then got closer to Victim Number Three.
It was only at the scent of jasmine that the killer lost step, recalling the Master’s warnings about other forces at work. But the hesitation didn’t last long, because an “Elite” who’d been summoned just in case of this scenario ripped the ghost away, captivating it.
Then Someone struck quickly.
But the victim whirled around first, whisking a gun out from under a jacket.
Someone was ready, ducking, firing the Taser.
As the victim flopped to the ground, convulsing, Someone stopped being a no one.
And started to feel like the true, glamorous vampire star the Lee Tomlinson would never be.
TWENTY-TWO
BELOW, ACT FOUR
T HE seductive music video on the Master’s television screen was not only bothering Sorin, it was clearly not adding to Eva Claremont’s mood, as well.
“I’m going to kill Paul Aspen,” she said, standing up from the divan. “Sorin—I’m going to kill you!”
“Eva,” the Master said, wearing his inhuman form—dark, nebulous, and outlined with the energetic red neon that spoke of good cheer. “Let’s hear him out.”
The head vampire guided his favorite Elite back to the pillows, unable to take his gaze from her. He stroked her hair, clearly in awe of the blond waves.
Sorin stood his ground in front of them, hands folded behind his back. They were in the Master’s private quarters, where he was preparing to gift the actress with her first monthly infusion since her release. Though they received only enough blood to possess a fraction of the Master’s own powers, it was enough. Without it, they would become what they feared worst: ugly, old, average.
Not that Eva Claremont was entirely focused on that matter. Unlike many Elites, who priced human attachments below fame, she had family concerns. And the Master had preyed upon those fears, utilizing Underground recruiters—Servant agents and managers—to win over the mortal actress he worshipped from afar.
Sorin somewhat respected her love for family. He had always retained an inkling of memory for his own, as well.
Eva was still glaring at him, her Allure getting away from her and causing her gaze to break apart into multihued shards. “You asked Paul Aspen to wipe my daughter’s memory! And he bit her. Bit her, Sorin! He had no right—”
“I regret that.” Sorin’s tone remained even. “I did not anticipate his foolishness.”
She turned to the Master. “You promised I could ease her into this life, Benedikte. If I’d known what would happen when I left Dawn alone at the party, I wouldn’t have brought her. I thought it was safe.”
“You’re upset. I understand.” The Master kept smoothing back her hair. “Don’t be angry.”
Sorin’s posture stiffened as he witnessed the Elite slowly wrapping the older vampire around her tiny finger once again. She was the Master’s weakness.
Thank the day Sorin had carried his streak of human logic with him into this world. From years of observance, he believed many other vampires clung to a semblance of mortal emotion, unable to desert it. Sorin was admittedly guilty of that, but it had faded with time, embedding itself deeply, where it was not simply accessed.
Eva had not calmed down. She was kneeling next to the Master, holding one of his darkly hazy hands. “I know Paul facilitated my return to Hollywood by getting me this big new role. He’s a mentor, but I didn’t realize he’d take Dawn in exchange for his efforts.”
“Eva, I’ll handle this.”
Although Sorin could not clearly see the Master’s face, he knew how the old vampire would be longing for her. It was an eternal heartbreak that Sorin did not comprehend.
The Master turned to Sorin. “Didn’t you think of how this would affect Eva?”
From the sharpness of tone, Sorin knew that his maker was sickened by what had happened to Dawn, as well.
Sorin anticipated this. “I gambled and failed. Yet I still believe the risk would have been worth the reward, had I succeeded. Dawn Madison is an untapped resource, and we have waited too long to fully mine her.” He paused. “And it is not as if Eva would ever extract the information we need from—”
“She’s my daughter!” There was fire in Eva’s eyes now. “You’ve both gone far enough in using her as a toy of war.”
“At this point, we are all toys.”