Part 15 (2/2)

”No, Master.”

Sorin saw no use in the Master's insistence on taking the souls in. But the old vampire often said that each spirit had its own properties, and that he was a little in love with them all. Each allowed him to lose himself, if only for a sublime minute, in an intimate stranger's essence.

To be human for an agonizing burst of stolen joy.

And the Master could never get enough of escaping himself. Not lately.

Still quaking, the old vampire drew himself up, propped himself against the wall, cradled a leg and rested his arms over a knee.

Sorin was puzzled at this new wrinkle in the process. Normally, this was when his parent shed enraged tears, when he pulled into himself and escaped to his own separate world until Sorin attempted, once again, to pull him out.

But this was not the way of it tonight. No, the Master seemed more reflective than usual, even restlessly content.

”Master...?”

”A miracle.” He laughed, the sound edged with disbelief, happiness. ”It's possible. This time, it doesn't hurt for me to come back.

Amiracle.”

Thankfulness welled inside Sorin, a muted celebration at finally seeing his Master interested in his surroundings again. He wondered how much this had to do with what was transpiring Above-if these desperate times had finally jarred the rightful ruler back into form: the vampire who had tasted all the pleasures the world had to offer.

The ruthless warrior who had created a powerful Underground that, until this point, had run smoothly and effortlessly.

Seeing the change in his parent, Sorin knew that, in spite of all of his doubts and concerns, perhaps he had done well to challenge the Master last night. He held a hand to his chest.Long live the Underground.

Long live this blink of interest from the Master.

”I am so very pleased,” Sorin said, saluting his superior with his other hand, fingers to his forehead. ”Welcome back.”

A well-fought grunt, a sigh of renewed anguish from against the wall, gave Sorin pause. Had he spoken too quickly? Had he made too many a.s.sumptions?

In due haste, he moved on to the business at hand, keeping the Master engaged. He extracted a manila envelope bulging with money from his coat, set it on the table. The Master's breath hitched at the scent of it.

”It is a payment from Tamsin Greene.” A human who wished to become an elite citizen. ”I have completed her preliminary procedures, and we await a time and date at your pleasure.”

”Tamsin Greene,” the Master said.

Sorin knew that his parent recognized the name. He had been privy to her interview tapes, her vows of maintaining Underground secrecy at the cost of her life and dearest desires.

”She seemed anxious about her decision.” The Master's voice, still shaky with spent pa.s.sion, had gone wary. ”Is she convinced she wants to be here? Based on recent events, Sorin, we need to be careful.”

”We are.”

Now the Master's tone sounded strangled, choked with an emotion Sorin could not readily identify.

”I'mnevertaking anyone without their full permission again. Not unless they want what I have to offer withallof their soul.”

Perhaps he was smarting from the trouble Above?

”She is willing.” Sorin rested a firm hand on the money, a payment of millions. ”And she has no qualms about giving more.”

Sorin tried not to glance at the capped vial on the table, the boxes lining the walls.

”Then schedule her to join us as soon as possible.” A pause. ”I trust you with this, Sorin.”

”Yes, Master.” Yesterday, Sorin would have entertained grave doubts as to whether or not his Master would have been up to the exhaustive ceremonies and celebrations required to welcome a new citizen. Today, he was slightly more rea.s.sured based on what he had just witnessed as well as the Master's decision to initiate spywork last night.

A decision that Sorin still wanted to discuss. There were elements that concerned him, especially- ”Leave me,” the Master rasped, reading Sorin's mind and cutting him off. He slumped against the wall, the aura around his body fading as he rested.

Without another word, Sorin bowed and saluted once again, going about his work.

Leaving the Master alone in his beloved darkness so he could go about his, as well.

THIRTEEN.

THEGATHERINGSMOKEand mirrors. That's what this place was made of, Dawn thought as she, Breisi, and Kiko sat at Bava's crumbling altar- bar smelling of the garlic they'd rubbed over their skin like insect repellant. If it worked, great. If not, she'd be tasty scampi for some lucky set of teeth tonight.

Kiko had been the first to note that this cramped Goth hangout was named for Mario Bava, a noted Italian horror director. It was an homage to one of the artist's best-known movies,Black Sunday,La Maschera del Demonio. The color scheme was stark gray and white; the inside gutted like a ruined chapel with iron grating, stone coffins, and gnarled branches and weeds creeping over the walls. A tinge of white light rose up from the bar, casting shadows under the faces of the black-garbed bartenders, lending them nefarious att.i.tude to go along with the dyed jet hair and heavy eyeliner. Dog collars, see-through netted s.h.i.+rts, and piercings were the order of the night in here. Throbbing music drowned out conversation and ident.i.ty in a mist of sweat and darkness.

Dawn sipped at her gla.s.s of water and moved her fingers in time to the heavy ba.s.s. Sliding a hard look around, she took in the small dance floor choked with customers who swayed in haunting, studied rhythm under the s.h.i.+fting lights.

During the last hour and a half, their attempts at engaging the management and then the patrons in conversation hadn't worked so well. The owner didn't know squat. To make matters more difficult, the customers were skeptical and unwilling to help, their painted looks discouraging queries. If they weren't on the dance floor, they were huddled in the dark corners, where a few underage, famous faces lurked, too. Dawn had already spied a ”new punk” eighteen-year-old pop singer drinking from a martini gla.s.s of blue-tinted Hypnotiq and snorting c.o.ke from behind the s.h.i.+eld of her bodyguards. No one was acknowledging that she even existed.

Breisi leaned toward Kiko and Dawn, yelling, ”We need to isolate these bartenders and waitresses and convince them to talk.

They've got to take breaks sooner or later.”

Sounded doable to Dawn. Responding to the idea, she raised her gla.s.s to Breisi, then downed the rest of the liquid.

The older woman's face didn't change expression; she disengaged eye contact, tapped her foot, and began taking inventory of the bartenders.

Dawn followed suit, resting her hand in her jacket pocket and feeling a holy water vial for defense. Before heading out here, Breisi had smeared more of her wonder goo on Dawn's rapidly healing injuries, then armed her with a cl.u.s.ter of vampire weapons: garlic, a stake, an additional crucifix, and the holy water. Dawn had asked Breisi when she would get to use that b.i.t.c.hin'

crossbow with the blades, but Breisi had just gotten all p.i.s.sy and shoved a garlic clove into Dawn's hand for a rubdown while muttering, ”In your next life.”

But Dawn was set. Besides her pocket a.r.s.enal, the silver bulletloaded revolver was in its shoulder holster. However, the stake would've been too obvious, so it was back in the car.

They weren't at Bava for a rumble anyway, right? Still, if the vamps showed up, they'd be ready.

They'd also changed into appropriate attire for clubbing. Dawn had no problems: she'd just thrown on her earring, boots, heavy makeup, a clean pair of black jeans, and a dark skull-and-crossbones tank top to wear under her jacket. Breisi and Kiko, on the other hand, had needed some coaching.

Kiko had on a pair of leather pants and a jacket-all black, of course. Oddly enough, he looked like one of the underage kids in Bava, so he fit right in. But Breisi...

Jeez, Breisi. She'd shown up dressed in black, thank G.o.d, but she'd been wearing one of those d.a.m.ned bear s.h.i.+rts-this one of Teddy doing a cartwheel. Dawn had made her take it off, rip it in a few fas.h.i.+onable places, then turn it inside out so the picture didn't really show beneath her jacket.

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