Vampire Babylon - Midnight Reign Part 18

"You will."

All the golly-gee-whiz talk drove home that Jac really was a small-town girl who'd come to Hollywood via some modeling contest. Or...

Dawn stopped. Even Breisi had said the starlet was only a Tinseltown carbon copy of Eva and no more. Breisi, the steadiest person Dawn knew. So why was Dawn still thinking the worst?

"What are you up to tonight?" Jac asked.

"Work."

Kiko shot Dawn a look, probably knowing she was making excuses not to see Jac again. He'd crawled back into his chair, leaning on an elbow propped on a bigger table, lovestruck and all Bye Bye Birdieish.

"You work too much." Jac laughed. "I'm going to kidnap you. There's a party Paul Aspen is throwing, and I'm not really comfortable enough with the cast yet to show up by myself."

Paul Aspen, prince of the heartland. In twenty years, he'd be remembered as an actor who built his fortune on flag-waving movies, but he had recently branched out. Hushed gossip said that his worst vice was "deflowering" young girls on the set and off, but Joe and Phyllis Matinee didn't know that.

"Be my bodyguard?" Jac added kiddingly.

"Industry parties aren't really my scene."

Kiko lightly hit her.

"Wait, Jac." She held the phone to her shoulder.

"Call back," Kiko said.

Slightly annoyed, Dawn returned, then promised the actress she'd get back to her in a few minutes. A weight dropped off Dawn as she hung up.

Wow, she could breathe again.

But Kiko robbed her of that real quick. "You should go."

"Why's that?" "Because I'd kill to see her, and I'm not going to let you cut off my Jac connections just because you hate the Hollywood status quo."

At the notion of seeing the girl again, panic welled. Foolish or not, it was time for Dawn to lay it on the line.

"Remember a few days ago when the possibility of Underground vamps having plastic surgery came up?"

Kiko looked at her sidelong.

"I can't help thinking," Dawn continued, "what, with the things we found out about Robby Pennybaker's own faked 'murder' and planned 'comeback' that..."

Kiko finished for her. "You think she's Eva with plastic surgery, and that Jac could have been Underground, just like Robby."

Dawn had refused to talk about that day in the hospital, but she knew Breisi had filled in Kiko and The Voice. She was glad she didn't have to go through all the details again.

"Here's the thing," Kiko said. "I don't think you should worry about Jac. She's actually been under watch, just like a lot of people we've been in contact with. So far, she's clean."

"Jac was under Friend surveillance...?"

"Uh-huh, and the Friends are spread thin. We don't exactly have a surplus, and they need to get back home every once in a while to sort of refuel, know what I mean?"

"Gee, Kik, thanks for telling me about this before."

He shook his head, as if she should've learned better by now. "You're never going to know everything that happens around here.

Not unless you need to, Dawn. I'm used to it by now."

So just accept it, he didn't have to add. Just know that you're doing your part to save the world, Prophecy Girl.

"Obviously," Kiko continued, "Jac isn't a concern, or else the boss would've had us follow up on her."

Yeesh, maybe it wasn't obvious, but at the hospital, Dawn had almost broken down at the thought of a resurrected Eva.

Couldn't they see what she was seeing-?

Wait. Good G.o.d, she'd never even looked beyond her own shock.

She calmed herself, thinking rationally for once. What if Jac/Eva could lead her to the Underground? Shouldn't she be wondering about that?

"Go. To. The. Party," Kiko was saying. "There's nothing pressing happening tonight anyway. Breisi wanted to go over what we know about Jessica Reese again, then she'll probably hermit up in her lab."

She saw a flash of something off-kilter in his gaze, but he looked away before she could call him on it.

"Why don't you and Breez come with me?"

"Because Jacqueline Ashley isn't...Dawn, you can't go around thinking everything, including Jac, is going to attack you. Believe me, you gotta get out of that phase. When I saw my first monster, I went through it, too, but you need to chill before you do even more damage."

She knew he was talking about the homeless woman. How many times had she told herself the same thing?How d.a.m.ned many?

He got out of his chair. "Clear it with the boss if you decide to go. And"-he turned away-"I hope you do. I hope Jac helps you get out of this funk."

He left the room in a rush, never looking back.

But Dawn barely noticed because she was already thinking of ways to get the truth out of her starlet "pal."

Even if no one else believed in her suspicions.

J AC had gotten a new Prius and, while she drove up the Pacific Coast Highway to Paul Aspen's home in Malibu, she chattered away about her new ride.

"I decided on cherry red because I'm still such a sorority girl at heart, but the flip color doesn't scream 'tree-hugger hybrid driver.' That's what my PR guy said-buying this car, no matter what color it is, shows I'm concerned about the environment, even though I'm not giving interviews about it." Jac grinned. "Isn't all of that so major? All I wanted to do was save some gas."

Jac's window was only slightly gaped, ensuring that her hair didn't get messy, even though faint huffs of the summer-night breeze still played with her long blond waves. Tonight, she wasn't wearing her usual sungla.s.ses and, at first, Dawn had flinched when looking into Jac's brown irises. The last time that had happened, Dawn had seen Eva with all the clarity of a knife shearing into her stomach. This time...not so much.

Maybe the shock had worn off?

As Dawn tried to return Jac's grin, she noticed that the starlet really did look like she'd been in a boot camp for the last month; it wasn't that she'd lost weight-no, she looked like the usual slender Jac in her white silk tank and a pair of tight black pants. It was just that her skin was duller than the usual pearly complexion. Or maybe it was just Dawn's vampire-steeped imagination taking over.

Jac noticed the visual inventory, so Dawn casually said, "Looks like you haven't been eating well."

"I know, I know," Jac said. "Nerves-total nerves! But that's all going to change. I've been a.s.signed a nutritionist. Can you believe that? Someone's going to tell me how to eat, like I don't have a clue."

"There'll be a lot of someones telling you how to do everything from now on."

Jac nodded, respecting Dawn's own moviemaking expertise. Sure, she'd "just" been a stuntwoman, but she knew the ropes.

The ride went quiet, a little tense. As they drove along the surflined highway, the radio DJ talked gossip: Justin Timberlake in Vegas, Paris Hilton's most recently discovered s.e.x video, Darrin Ryder's recovery from last month's mugging and his big night back on the town- Jac snicked off the radio, not that Dawn cared. She wasn't a big Ryder fan; his hara.s.sment on a movie set was just one of many reasons she'd found herself on the outs in her stunt career.

Minding her seat belt, Dawn pulled her jacket tighter around her. After The Voice had given her permission to "take care of some personal business" for a few hours, she'd armed up and driven to Jac's. Chances were there'd be a security check at the door- unless Jac had enough clout as the production's ingenue to get them out of it-so Dawn had adjusted her weapons accordingly.

Item one: if Jac were Eva, she might be like Robby Pennybaker, who'd been basically unaffected by holy objects; this meant Dawn had forgone most of those items except for a few just-in-case standbys, like a bit of holy water and the crucifix she always wore. Item two: Dawn might never get inside the party with a gun or blades, so she'd brought less obvious weapons. Silver, which had poisoned Robby, was her greatest ally right now so, among other things, she'd worn a necklace, bracelet, and earrings that were sharp enough to pierce a vamp's skin if they got too close. Breisi had constructed the jeweled set a while ago, so Dawn had borrowed them. She'd also grabbed a lighter and a mini aerosol hairspray-a makeshift flamethrower in case fire could stop an attacking vamp.

So here she was-a real live vamp hunter. She hadn't even rubbed down with garlic, deciding not to offend everyone at the party tonight. Instead, she'd been sneakier, bringing along a small perfume dispenser full of garlic essence that she could mist onto her skin. It would work for lower-level vamp repulsion if she needed it. Subtle yet armed.

Jac pulled onto Malibu Colony Drive, where they came to guarded gates. After Jac's ID quickly ushered them through, she continued to Paul Aspen's mansion, which also boasted security at the entrance. As they pulled into the drive, tropical vegetation loomed above them, lush and still.

While the guards checked the car ahead, red taillights glowed through the windshield. Dawn turned to Jac, and the girl smiled brightly, washed over by the sanguine shade.

A bolt of anguish at seeing her mother covered in red again ripped through Dawn. Her stomach went sour. Still, it was time to start working. Time to solve what the h.e.l.l was going on.

"Know something funny?" Dawn asked.

"I can always use some comedy."

Here it goes, she thought, primed to pay careful attention to every detail of Jac's reactions.

She let out a tiny, uncomfortable laugh, Acting! like her comment was about to embarra.s.s her. "Last time I saw you in person, back at the hospital..."

Dawn trailed off purposely.

Jac merely tilted her head in a casual listening pose.

"I..." Dawn laughed again. "Well, seeing you all made over...For a weird second, I actually thought you were my mom, like you'd come back to life. Isn't that messed up?"

Dawn waited for the clues to surface: a gleam of understanding in Jac's gaze, a flinch, a tell.

But there was nothing. Just Jac reaching out to Dawn and patting her knee.

Dawn's instincts told her to push away, but it was a nice touch, lending her some ease. Inexplicably, she put her own hand over Jac's, but as soon as she realized it, she retreated.

Jac didn't seem to mind. "I know how that made you feel, and I understand why you needed to take some time before seeing me again. I'm still so sorry about the surprise."

"I'm over it."

Jac squeezed Dawn's knee. "Now that we've gotten the awkwardness out of the way, I'm actually flattered that you'd say I'm like her. Gosh, to even be in the same realm as Eva Claremont is just..."

It was like stars were shining in the girl's eyes. Stars with pointed edges that jabbed and tore.

If she were Eva, she was a h.e.l.l of an actress. Or was Jac truly just another innocent bystander, one who was in direct firing range of Dawn's agenda? You can't go around thinking everything is going to attack you, Kiko had said.

Once again, she thought of the throwing star speeding toward the homeless woman, the snick of it hitting her arm, the blood on the stuffed animal.

"Hey," Jac said, leaning closer. "Something's wrong, isn't it? Is it still me?"

The car ahead of them drove away, and the security officer waved Jac forward. Dawn was saved from answering as the starlet pulled up.

And when Jac rolled down her window, allowing the scent of jasmine to permeate the car, Dawn relaxed. She wasn't alone.

It didn't take long for them to clear the checkpoint. Paul Aspen's people had probably prepared an extensive list of who to let through easily. Yeah, Dawn got the evil eye, but the fact that the beefcakes let her through without more of a scene spoke a lot about Jac's status on the set.

And she went right on thinking that way, too, at least until after the valet parked their car. It was only when she and Jac got to the exquisite teak doors that she started to feel like an outcast among the beautiful people again.

Bodyguards took one look at Dawn and stopped her. Oh well, that's what she got for wearing the regular I-don't-give-a-s.h.i.t gear. She was Jac's entourage, but she wasn't a star herself, so that meant she couldn't get away with the grunge.

As they patted her down, she casually checked out the exotic, chicly overgrown foliage, the torches burning fake fire from wall sconces. The house was a quasi-Mayan temple. How sacrificial nouveau.

When it was over, Jac seemed to think it was a good idea to make her friend forget all about the second-cla.s.s treatment. Linking her arm through Dawn's, she guided them both into the house, clearly excited at her big movie-star party. Sad. Maybe this was the first time anyone in the cast had invited her.

"I wonder how many hearts you'll break tonight," Jac said as they walked through the foyer. The blaring recorded music- something so hip the band probably didn't even have a name-was making Jac talk loudly.

Dawn stiffened as they approached the main area. "I don't break hearts, I eat them." She was kidding. Pretty much.

Her rigidity had made Jac back off. But then, pulling an impressed face, the undaunted actress reached out and gave her friend's biceps a feel.

"Look at that. I wish I had these guns! You make everyone here look lazy!"

Even though she was oddly pleased by Jac's comment, Dawn pretended she wasn't. It appealed to the part of her that believed she wasn't inferior to these people, and Lord help her, she liked knowing that someone else thought the same way.

They drew nearer to the action, and Dawn tried to remain placid, keeping her rebellious facade intact, presenting the girl who'd spurned all the other Hollywood kids while growing up. It'd been one of many ways to distance herself from Eva, and it'd worked.

As the main room opened up in front of them, she saw that the mansion's interior was created to seem brittle and broken, the walls fashionably crumbling, the decor utilizing everything from long-stemmed candleholders shooting up from the floor to a polar bear rug in front of an empty grand fireplace.

But the partygoers provided a modern touch. Near a flat-screen TV, a crowd of young hipsters from Aliantrance, a fantasy that had scooped the number one spot at the box office for the past three weeks, yelled while maiming each other by proxy with their gory PlayStation street fighting. Scattered throughout the rest of the room, less enthusiastic men and women in silks and chunky jewelry swayed to the techno-flavored music, drinks in hand, cigarettes burning from extended fingers. They were standing against walls, draped over couches, mingling with each other and probably working deals with every breath.

Well behaved, Dawn thought. The party must've just started.

As a tabloid socialite strolled by, her boutique perfume made Dawn want to choke. And it made her realize something else: the jasmine had disappeared, replaced by acrid smoke, the expensively bad perfume, and emerging perspiration.

"I can't get used to this!" Jac said, sounding half-afraid and half-fascinated by her surroundings. "You'll protect me from trouble though, won't you, Dawn? My fencing buddy? My own personal bodyguard?"

"Why not." Dawn led Jac away from an oily guido approaching due right and headed for a private corner. Even though she didn't know what to think about her friend, she felt protective. Weird but true.

On their way, they were intercepted by the man himself, Paul Aspen. Reportedly in his late thirties, he was the type who wasn't actually a "man," but more of a "guy." A perpetual Hollywood Peter Pan, he'd shaved off his sandy hair for this buccaneer role, probably hoping to age himself, and had gotten his ears pierced, too. Tall and full of that star-making "X factor," he was a producer's wet dream.

His hazel eyes seemed friendly enough as he offered Dawn and Jac two drinks. "I heard on a security scanner that my favorite costar had arrived, and I'm not talking about Will."

Dawn belatedly recalled that Jac's other costar was Mr. Independence Day himself.