Don proved that when he finally gave his answer.
“Don’t bother playing on my patriotism, Cat. My country’s lost to me now, but if this helps you with something you’re determined to do anyway . . . well, then take me to him. I’ll see what I can do.”
Twenty-six
Madigan did recognize Don. As soon as he saw him, he let out an excited squeal of “Donny!” My uncle winced, either in sympathy at what his nemesis had become or in aversion to the horrid nickname.
Didn’t matter. Donny he was and Donny he stayed, day and night as Madigan rambled on about nonsensical things, such as how sad he was that the ice cream here was terrible (it wasn’t; Madigan’s taste buds only loved raw meat, a fact his mind hadn’t caught up with yet) or how he wanted to play in the yard (not happening; we didn’t want him to eat Mencheres’s neighbors). After the first few days of skull-numbing inanity, I wouldn’t have bothered eavesdropping except every once in a while, like a flash of lightning into a darkened room, something lucid would pop up.
“I’m very unhappy with their progress, Donny,” Madigan had said the other day. “They should have been able to replicate her DNA by now.”
“You mean Crawfield’s?” Don replied in a carefully neutral tone.
“Hers, too.” Madigan sounded churlish. “But after seven years, nothing! Can’t have all my eggs in one basket . . . heh. Eggs. Have to wait years for more of those . . .”
Despite Don trying to steer him back on topic, Madigan veered from eggs to being hungry again, and once that happened, nothing else mattered. Then when he was done eating, he fell asleep. For all I knew, he now slept while sucking his thumb. I couldn’t tell because I never entered his lockdown room. I’d become synonymous with Bones in his shattered mind, and Bones incited sobbing, incoherent terror.
Don, however, seemed to soothe Madigan, sometimes by the other man remembering past cruelties.
“I stole your job after you died,” Madigan said yesterday in a gleeful whisper. “Stole your soldiers, too. They’ll be dead soon.”
Before Don could respond to that, Madigan was playing I Spy. That shouldn’t have taken long since his room was windowless concrete, but Madigan stretched it out for hours. If Don was solid, he might have banged his head against the wall just to block out the endless chatter. I wanted to, and that was only after twenty minutes.
The reality was, I didn’t have much else to do. Tate, Ian, and Fabian hadn’t found Katie yet. How a child with no money and no experience in the normal world could evade two vampires and a ghost, I had no idea, but she’d done it. Mencheres’s people were still coming up empty on the fried hard drives, so no leads to chase down there, either. Bones could barely stand to be under the same roof as Don, let alone listen to him and Madigan talk nonsense for hours, so I couldn’t ask him to spell me. Plus, the few rational bits Madigan did say would probably cause Bones to beat him again.
After six days of learning nothing more than what we already knew, I was fed up. Madigan appeared to be a dead lead for gleaning information on his shadowy backer, but perhaps there was something else we could do to locate Katie. I knew someone who was very good at tracking paranormal activity, and as a bonus, he wasn’t a member of any undead line.
That’s how Bones and I ended up at Comic Con in San Diego.
I’d seen a lot of unusual things in my life, but this science fiction and fantasy extravaganza still managed to surprise me. Let’s face it; corpses raised by magic into unkillable assassins paled next to rubbing shoulders with Wolverine, Xena, Chewbacca, The Joker, Wonder Woman, and an iron-bikini-clad Princess Leia—and that was just waiting in line to get our badges.
Once inside the massive, multilevel complex, we worked our way through thousands more people dressed as their favorite character from a movie, television show, video game, or comic book. Some costumes were simple, such as body painting, and some were so elaborate, they had working robotic accessories.
“I’m vamping out,” I told Bones, the thundering background noise causing me to yell even with his hearing. “No one will notice.”