Vampire Babylon - Night Rising Part 27

Perhaps the time had come to reconsider, with all the threats circling from Above....

"Perhaps," Sorin said to the human, newly scathed by his old loss, "you should get yourowncareer to ruin."

Nathan Pennybaker, the failed child star, responded as if slapped across the face with a fine kid glove. Sorin had known that the insult would sting.

Yet he sensed genuine sadness, as well. Curious, how a man like this could still feel for the son he had manipulated so thoroughly.

"I'm begging you," said the human, "please find Robby. I can tame him, just like you asked me to."

Sorin thought of the Guards who had been tracking Robby ever since the child star had permanently escaped from the Underground in order to avoid the final phase of release.

"We are making every attempt to discover his whereabouts," he said, antic.i.p.ating that fine day. Because after Robby's recovery, the Underground would be that much more secure, the Guards Below in their own area and waiting for another situation, should one come. Then Sorin's worries could be rested.

Tellingly, no one had ever escaped the Underground before Robby. That was a testament to everyone's willingness to be here.

Yet the Master had made an error with Robby, believing he would agree with the career advice of his father once he grew older and less rebellious. In spite of his youth, the child had been career savvy, so it did not seem at all improbable.

Besides, the Master had wanted Robby, had been utterly intrigued by his precocious soul, by the relationships he had developed during his stellar career.

"I've tried to find him myself," Nathan Pennybaker said. "These past few nights, I went everywhere I could think of-hotels, bars we frequented-but he's not around. I thought he'd come right back to me. We were inseparable before his...death."

"As I suggested previously, perhaps you should stay with us and lure him backhere." Sorin expected him to refuse, knowing how much the human feared being turned into a vampire, although he had given Robby to the wonder of it. He had probably done so believing his son would never turn to him for blood. And there would never have been a cause for it, either, had Robby not escaped. "You might be the incentive he requires to return."

"I told you-I can find him."

"Yes, you have proven that to be true, have you not?" Under the withering sarcasm, the human surrendered, his posture deflating. "My wife will still stay under your protection while I'm away from my home? She doesn't know anything. She won't be a problem."

"The protection you have already purchased for your family remains a part of our contract. But if Robby is sighted, we will send you to your son to gently persuade him to return to us...along with a squad of Guards."

Fright laced the human's perspiration. "No Guards-"

"They will follow your commands within reason, human. You need not worry about them turning on you for the prize of your weak blood. Frankly, they are used to better quality."

Even with the derogatory comment, the human seemed placated, as did the Master, who had been agreeing with Sorin via their Awareness.

They had allowed Nathan Pennybaker an audience with the sheltered Master only because Pennybaker had spoken as Robby's parent and taken the oath of secrecy upon buying the boy's place in the Underground. Sorin knew the human would not betray the real Master's existence and cause a breach of security. From stories Robby had told during his stay here, Sorin knew that the human feared torture and fangs; he would not chance being exposed to either that or to the relinquishing of Robby's resurrected career.

Their business finished, Nathan Pennybaker lapsed into silence, awaiting his dismissal. But Sorin was not feeling so kind as to give it just yet.

The Master leaned forward, hardly deigning to recognize the drama between his child and the human. He had been tuned in to the spa as if it were a television or movie screen.

The interest boded nicely for the welcoming of Tamsin Greene, which was set to take place tomorrow at nightfall.

"They're beautiful, aren't they, Sorin?"

The Elites. They were the only ones the Master gifted with his blood these days. Certainly, hundreds of years ago, Sorin had been the Master's first and only child, but the Elites had held a special place in the Master's world for half a century now. He worshipped them, loved them-especially a certain one-with pa.s.sionate intensity.

But that did not mean the Master was blind to their Allure. Even though the Elites were able to use their powers to convince the humans Above of their perfection, to draw them in, to make others want tobethem, the Master had always understood the danger of the Elite crowd. They had unstable egos, narcissistic tendencies. Thus, at the birth of the Underground, the Master had decided to allow them one monthly infusion of blood-and that was all-to keep their Allure strong. Controlling their intake of the Master's blood was a safety precaution, keeping the Elites in line through the leveling of inferior power.

Not that they seemed to care who had control and who did not in the Underground. Life Above was all that mattered to them in the end, even if they enjoyed the pleasures here. After an Elite was released, they often returned for a night or two when they became lonely, but they were always drawn back to the surface by the compulsion, pure need, ego...and perhaps the restlessness of spending too many years Underground in the first place. For, during their required time here, they hungered to reemerge, antic.i.p.ating the day they mastered their Allure. In order to accomplish this, they practiced hiding their abilities: when they arrived Above, they would be able to use only enough Allure to hypnotize humans, allowing their powers to emerge in full force strictly around fellow vampires.

At least, that was the mandate. Robby Pennybaker had shown much difficulty in controlling many of his new talents-except, of course, for blocking the Awareness between Master and child. He had perfected that all too well, even though they never used the power Above, for fear of detection. Though he was an adult in years, he was still an adolescent in his emotions. In fact, six months ago, he had even taken to sneaking out of the Underground for secret trips, but he had always returned. Sorin had put a stop to that, but this, among many reasons, was why Robby required taming before his release.

"Yes, Master, your creations are beautiful," Sorin said, always ready to please. He fixed his gaze on the male Elite with his Groupies. "Magic, if I do say so myself."

"You would know."

The Master gestured toward the show, where the male Elite had seized the Groupie who had been ma.s.saging his scalp. He had her by the waist, forcefully positioning her over the pillows that had been holding up his torso. Spreading open her thighs so that her legs framed the Groupie who was still servicing him from below, he bent and latched his mouth to the dark red flesh between her legs, laving her there as the Groupie braced herself and warbled in encouragement. The Groupie below him accommodated his accelerated thrusts with her mouth and throat, taking him deep and fast.

With a roar of satisfaction, he came, once, twice, into her. As she eased out from under him, wiping her lips, the rest of his Groupies purred, stroking him in the afterglow, turning him on his back and revealing his breathtaking face.

"My children," the Master said with a sense of wonder and awakened joy. "G.o.ds."

On the other side of the mirror, the Elite closed his eyes. His face shimmered in the steam. A face that had been so adored by the mult.i.tudes over eleven years ago.

Back when he had been known as Jesse Shane.

TWENTY-ONE.

THEHEALING.

NOWthere was definitely no way Dawn was getting any sleep, especially after what had happened with Jonah. And, worse, just knowing that Frank was somewhere out there, in pain, needing help, was even more reason to get a load of caffeine into her.

After she left the room where she'd been with The Voice, she engaged in a marathon coffee-drinking session and then went with Kiko back to his place. All the way there, he stumbled over the same explanations about Frank. Having already heard enough from Jonah, she told Kiko to stop apologizing, but shedidn'ttell him that she was never going to forget that he was on the boss's side, so she just let it lie.

Nonetheless, she enlisted him in a ritual that would carry her through the day.

"Can you...?" She motioned to Frank's undershirt.

Kiko seemed to understand. As she drove, he touched the material. This time he didn't go into convulsions; in fact, he didn't even react.

"Nothing," he said. "But we can keep checking."

That last part appeased Dawn a little. Strange as it was, the undershirt was her conduit to Frank. Earlier, Kiko had theorized that maybe his daughter's skin was adding power to the shirt, the item on which Kiko focused his energies. As a result, he was able to conjure Frank's thoughts with more effectiveness than before.

But she wasn't interested in technicalities. She wanted results, no matter what the hocus pocus involved.

While the sun blasted awake in the sky, they arrived at Kiko's, and Dawn decided she needed some exercise to stay awake.

Aside from fencing, she hadn't really worked out since returning to L.A., and it was driving her crazy. Her muscles and skills felt flaccid. When all this trouble was finally done, she was going to contact Jerry Aberly, a stunt coordinator she'd worked with three times before. He had his own private workout, and Dawn was hoping he'd invite her to join him sometime, that he would remember how hard she'd labored for him on previous gigs and that he would see how hungry she was for another job.

After a jog during which Kiko trailed her in his car "just in case"-lazy b.u.m-she went into an alley next to his place to practice throwing hershurikenwhile he sat by an open window, going through theHollywood Reporterto see which movies were going into production. It was early enough not to attract much attention as she refamiliarized herself with the art of throwing.

She stacked the blades horizontally in her left hand, sliding one at a time to her right, where she would position her thumb tip in theshuriken's center hole. By shuffling the blades from one hand to the other, she would be able to fire them rapidly at her target, her fingers and wrist tensing just slightly at the moment that the blade slipped away and sang through the air. She was careful not to fling or heft theshuriken; the procedure required a lighter touch than that.

For close to an hour, she practiced, getting back into the ninjataijutsumethod she'd been trained to use for throwing theshurikenback when she'd just been learning the ropes of stunt work. By rocking forward and back with each throw, taking care to breathe in then out with every motion, she gained power, accuracy. Pretty soon she was lengthening the distance between her and the fence she was aiming at.

Now she imagined a real target: one of those red-eyed creatures. They'd been wearing clothes, so she'd want to get them where the flesh had been peeking out-the neck, the bald head. Small targets, but doable.

But would her blades be quicker than those tails?

That kept bothering her. She wished she had a weapon that was the equivalent of those long, barbed whips....

"Yo! What're you doing out there, girl?" It was some harpy yelling at Dawn from behind her screen.

"Sorry for the noise," she said, wanting no trouble.

In his window, Kiko kept reading, probably used to the neighbor lady.

"You get out of there before I call the cops!"

Dawn gave a neighborly wave, just for karma points, and went back into Kiko's. Then she showered, allowing the cold spray of water to keep her frosty. Afterward, she applied garlic-she was kind of getting used to the stink-then some of Breisi's goo to the scarred-over injuries on her arm and leg, and then dressed, wearing another of Frank's undershirts. Finally, she joined Kiko on the couch, mult.i.tasking by anointing her blades with holy water and downing more java.

"Guess what?" he said, jacked up on caffeine, too.

"Your neighbor is the sentinel charged with guarding the gates to h.e.l.l-and both of you are living over the mouth of it."

Kiko actually looked like he might consider this and should check it out when he had time. But then he gave her an aw-that's-a- reference-to-a-seventies-horror-movie glance and said, "Breisi got us a date with the coroner at around one o'clock tonight.

Looks like Klara is a priority homicide. I can't wait to hear their theories about how she got all..."

He stopped, noticing the wan expression on Dawn's face.

She bucked up. "Okay, until then we've got an hour before our first interview." Breisi had set up a day's worth of them yesterday; afterward, they were going to hit the location list that Klara had given them. "Who's this first one?"

"Another child actor, but this guy wasn't half as successful as Robby. Now, he develops scripts over at Universal. Since Breisi's back at the office working on refining those locators, we're going to meet her on the production lot to talk with him."

"Hope it's over lots of coffee. Until then, you up for breakfast?" Here, her ulterior motives crept into play. "I know an Internet cafe near the fencing studio where they make pastries to die for."

And where they had more Web access. This time, she wanted to research Jonah Limpet, and it couldn't be done in his own office. She had the feeling her every activity was monitored there, noted for future reference."Just as long as you don't talk me into fencing, I'm there," Kiko said. "I don't want Breisi chewing my a.s.s again about fooling around on the job."

"Man, you made an appointment on Sat.u.r.day for a private lesson with Dipak. What're you talking about?"

He made innocent eyes. Shyster.

They weaponed up and drove to the cafe in Dawn's car, the sun peering through the smog. Daylight. It gave her a false sense of safety, even with her Vampire Repellers 'R' Us kit. Every hidden corner, every manhole that hissed steam from under its cover introduced the possibility of an ambush.

Kiko slid on his shades, no doubt to fight the L.A. glare of menace. Really. It had nothing to do with being a poseur.

After parking at the curb a block down from the cafe, they entered the brightly lit place. Fishbowl screensavers animated the computer faces, and a ceiling fan danced above their heads, giving the room a sense of neutrality. A pre-work crowd lined up at the gla.s.sed-in pastry shelves, girding themselves for the morning commute. Ninety percent of them were wearing sungla.s.ses, too.

"Are yours going to stay on?" she asked Kiko.

"Yup."

L.A. G.o.d.

Feeling it was time to check in with Frank, Dawn pulled her shirt away from her waist. "Touch it, please."

Kiko did, but he still had no vibey reaction. d.a.m.n.

He offered to buy Dawn's breakfast, which was sweet since she thought he was kind of smoothing things over from last night. But then she realized that he was using the boss's cash to pay. Hey, big spender.

All the same, she was thankful that his absence allowed her to get on a computer and Google Limpet. She'd just have to be careful Kiko didn't get a load of what she was doing. That would be bad form.

As the hits blurbed over the screen, Dawn felt someone coming to stand behind her-the hairs on the back of her neck were an accurate alarm system.

Jumpy, she closed the window.

When she turned around, she found a young woman wearing the requisite sungla.s.ses and a plain white baseball cap, her long red hair held back in a braid. She was holding a large coffee, dressed in pink Juicy sweats.

At first, Dawn didn't recognize her.

The girl seemed put off. "Don't you remember me?"

Dawn's mental Palm Pilot was working on it.

She glanced at Kiko, who was parting the crowd with his garlic stench. He was carrying a tray with his own meal and Dawn's bear claw plus her black-with-no-sugar coffee. Phone to his ear, he placed his java and a plate of two huge m.u.f.fins and three cream puffs onto one of three open tables, this one near the window. Then he came toward Dawn with her grub.

Meanwhile, the redhead was laughing a little uncomfortably. "I guess I'm incognito without a fencing jacket on backward."

"Ah." It all came back to Dawn now-the starlet from Dipak's studio. Hurrah. Done with that social interaction, Dawn nodded and turned back to the computer. As Kiko dropped off her meal, he chatted away happily on his cell.

"My agent," he mouthed to Dawn as she glanced at him. Then he took off to his table for some privacy.

The starlet casually took a seat next to Dawn, just like they were buddies and Dawn wasn't getting all bristly about the a.s.sumption. Then Dawn caught the girl's nose wrinkling, probably because she'd gotten wind of the garlic. Heh, time for her to scram.

But...no. Unfazed, the actress held her beverage, crossing her long starlet legs. "Going over to fence after this? I am."

"Right, you've got some part you're up for in the next Will Smith movie." Dawn was fascinated by her computer, tapping in the site address for the Stunt Players Directory, looking extremely busy and hoping the starlet would get the clue.

"Fingers crossed," she said, all chirpy.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Dipak tells me you're real good at your job. I'd love to have your talents. I'm afraid I'm a klutz when it comes to action, and you have to be versatile these days. An adventure movie here, a drama there, a comedy after that." She leaned closer to Dawn, her perfume overcoming the garlic and striking a note so low that it could've been an olfactory sigh of delight. "But listen to me talk.

I've only had a couple of supporting roles. It's just that the chance for this Will Smith gig is making me giddy."

Surfing the stunt site, Dawn ate her bear claw and wished the girl would just leave.

She felt the actress lean a little closer, waiting for Dawn to answer.