Part 24 (1/2)
They'd been coming out of a theater...attacked by a man...Matt had seen his parents dying...
While she tried to figure out why it was so familiar, she ran a search on his name. Typical stuff that The Voice and Breisi had already ferreted out: a PI employed by a firm called Ja.n.u.s and Patrick. She skipped over most of the information because it seemed redundant and, besides, it wasn't what she really wanted to know.
She searched for any clue to his parents' names, found nothing. Tried some newspaper databases to check for murders that might match what Matt had told her tonight.
Theater...left through the back door...my dad tried to hand over his wallet...
She was striking out all over the place here. But she continued, never giving up, even as the clock struck three.
Theater...
The long day had mushed her brain, reducing rational thoughts to goop and forcing her to blink to stay awake. The scenario for the Lonigans' murder kept replaying in her mind as she tried to reconstruct it. She even cast it with actors, slightly familiar faces...
Oh, G.o.d.Oh, G.o.d, oh, G.o.d, oh, G.o.d.
Their murder. She'd seen it before. Not tonight, not in her head...
...but on a freakin' cineplex screen.
Not even bothering to shut down the computer, she sprinted out of the room, down the hall, calling for Kiko.
Unbelievable, she kept telling herself. Does Lonigan think I'm some kind of idiot? What kind of mental chess is this guy playing with me?
”Kiko?” Clumsy with fatigue, she came to a slide on the carpet, her leg b.u.mping against the stair railing, right where the vamp-tail injury was healing. Pained, she almost tumbled down the steps, her calf bubbling with a slight throb.
”Kiko!”
Downstairs, the only thing she saw was Breisi's precious door. She flew to it, banging on the thick oak with her fists.
Theater...alley...handed over his wallet...
The door whooshed open to reveal the ap.r.o.ned mad scientist herself, her eyes red with either a lack of sleep or the frustration of being interrupted. Dawn went with the last one.
”What is it?” the older woman ground out.
”Is Kiko down there? You need to hear this, too. I found out something about Lonigan-”
Kiko, somehow still looking as fresh as dew, brought up Breisi's back. It seemed like both of them were blocking the door now, barring Dawn from seeing anything but stone walls bathed in blue light. Behind them, there was the sound of that hum, a metallic heartbeat.
”What're you talking about?” he asked.
”Batman,” Dawn blurted. ”Matt Lonigan's parents died almost like Bruce Wayne's, just without the vampire c.r.a.p. I remembered it from the movies. He-”
”Breisi, we're gonna go.” Kiko bent under Breisi's arm to step upward, past the door. As Breisi shut it behind him, the slam chopped through the house, hatcheting against the high ceilings.
”Come here,” he said, guiding her to a plush loveseat in the foyer. The portrait of the fire woman-the one who'd frayed Dawn's nerves that first night-reigned over them, keeping her eyes on Dawn once again.
”Kiko, why would Lonigan do it? Why would he give me such bulls.h.i.+t, I mean, aside from the fact that this is Hollywood and just about everyone here has a manufactured biography, but-”
”I don't know. Maybe it's a true story that happens to be similar to Bruce Wayne's. I've heard-and experienced-crazier things. So have you.”
Dawn didn't have the umph to argue. She'd run out of gas. Her reasoning had shut down. Complete overload.
”We should probably just go back to my digs, get some sleep,” he said.
Maybe that was the best idea. Maybe she could figure everything out tomorrow, when it would all make more sense.
Yeah, Dawn thought, eyes burning with fatigue. She needed the information to settle in, didn't she? Nothing would make sense until she allowed it to.
Breisi's door creaked wide. She emerged, head down, coming toward Dawn and holding a mahogany box. It was open, revealing a set of very smallshurikenset against a blue velvet bed.
Throwing stars. Ninja weapons.
”More tools before you leave.” Breisi showcased the silver. ”I just put the finis.h.i.+ng details on them.”
Dawn reached out to touch one, avoiding all of the eight star-sharp points. There were tiny etchings, words. ”What's written there?”
”Latin incantations from the Catholic Church that banish evil. I know one of your first stunt jobs was onNinjutsu: The Movie, so I thought you might be comfortable with using theshuriken.”
At that, Breisi shoved the box at Dawn. But she wasn't being unkind; no, she was actually being awkward, and it was sort of touching. In a Breisi kind of way.
”They're for me?” Dawn asked.
”Well, yes. Since I knew you were trained in the use of them, I've modified the weapons for your needs. There's some silver, but I managed not to allow that to affect the throwing balance. And each is tipped and blessed with holy water, though you'll want to keep up on that maintenance yourself. If one of these gets buried in a vamp's skin...poof. I hope. The holy water might travel through their bloodstream and inflict internal damage.”
Dawn didn't really know what to say. She wasn't used to gifts. ”Thank you,” was all she managed before she did something dumb like cry. She was just about to, too. The past days had been long, throwing one punch after another at her head and guts.
”De nada,” Breisi said.
Shoulders tight, she speed-walked back to her dungeon before Dawn could even glance up again.
Kiko was oohing and ahhing over the weapons. ”These are what stealth is all about. Oh, boy, oh, boy.” He pretended to pick one up and throw it. ”Screw close range fighting-that's for stakes. Screw loud fighting-that's for guns. This...thisis da bomb.
Ninjas forever!”
Good old Kiko and his geek-asms. The appreciation of his weirdness got to her also, welling up and making her eyes sting.
She really did need sleep. Just a few hours of it would get her back to normal.
He must've noticed her inability to control. ”Dawn?”
”Long day,” she said in a strangled whisper.
”Yeah.” He reached out to pat her shoulder.
But when he touched her, he froze.