Part 37 (1/2)

She marveled at the familiar faces: the action hero, the wild rapper, the misunderstood music idol, the gorgeous, puppy-eyed comedian-all who had died.

All old faces here to welcome their new sibling.

Old faces that had never aged during this process of becoming new faces.

Jesse Shane, whose own ”death” had been designed to provoke strange, neverending speculations, raised a gla.s.s of warm blood to his little sister. ”Long live the new Tamsin Greene.”

The rest of the crowd repeated his words, their voices a merry chorus.

”Long live the new Tamsin Greene!”

And, years from now, after the final change when she returned Above as a different actress/singer, that's what the press would be saying, too.

Here's to the new Tamsin Greene.

Never knowing she was actually the old Tamsin Greene.

TWENTY-EIGHT.

THERECOVERY.

ITwas midday at the hospital, where Dawn and Breisi sat with Kiko, keeping vigil over his bed. Although they'd taken quick showers at their crash pads to clean the blood off their skin, they hadn't gotten any sleep, and it was wearing on them.

But they could always get some shut-eye in this room, Dawn kept telling herself as she forced her eyes open. She was holding Kiko's fingers in one injured hand and nursing a coffee with the other while she watched TV. On the other side of the bed, Breisi fiddled with her locator receivers, trying to goose some kind of response out of their silence. Both of them wanted to spend as much awake time with their partner as possible, because tomorrow, when Dawn and Breisi got back to tracking Frank and this Underground, Kiko would be in surgery.

Since his L1 vertebra had burst into his spinal column, he'd sustained damage to his spinal cord but hadn't severed it, thank G.o.d.

In order to stabilize his back, the doctors planned to use plates and pins and, although it'd take about a year for him to make a full recovery, the professionals were telling him that he'd be walking fairly soon after the operation, with the help of a brace and rehabilitation.

All the same, Kiko kept insisting he could continue working. His brain was still good, he'd muttered in one of his more lucid moments. Didn't need surgery onthat.

Now, he was knocked out on painkillers, his compact form swathed in hospital gear. On the TV, a Dodgers game should've been on but, much to Breisi's fan-girl impatience, the station kept interrupting the broadcast for local reaction about Tamsin Greene's suicide. The news was inescapable, the coverage wallowing in sensationalism.

It seemed like the media had totally missed Tamsin's message about exploiting her because now, more than ever, they were doing a h.e.l.l of a lot of it.

A reporter was interviewing celebrities, collecting their grief in a montage of overkill. At the moment, a rising fifties-pop-inspired musician, Bradley Mistle, was wiping down his thick nerd-framed gla.s.ses that had fogged up from emotion.A huffing Breisi muted the sound when her cell phone rang.

”What a circus,” the baseball fan said as she checked the number. Her eyes were ringed with red. ”Let the dead rest in peace, I say.”

After last night, Dawn wasn't sure how likely that was.

After Breisi pushed a b.u.t.ton, The Voice came on speakerphone.

”Please tell me you're getting some rest there,” he said.

”Yes,” both Dawn and Breisi lied. Aside from a couple of catnaps, neither of them had made much of an effort.

Breisi gave Dawn a conspiratorial nod. Dawn raised an eyebrow back.

”And how are your Friends?” the other woman asked.

”Like you, they're recovering.”

In all the tragedy, Dawn had almost forgotten about how Jonah's buddies-the ghosties from the office-had lost their battle with Robby's superior powers. Earlier, The Voice had told them that his ”Friends” had been drained of strength and had been summoned back to him when they realized they'd be of no more use at the Pennybakers'. Thus, their sudden disappearance.

She'd also gotten an answer about why Jonah had gone quiet on the cell phone when Nathan had shown up. In an unprecedented sharing of actual answers, The Voice had told her that, once Mr. Pennybaker had arrived with the Guards-commanding them, nonetheless-he'd suspected Nathan's intimate involvement with Robby's Underground. Since Jonah was adamant about hiding his presence from any forces that had come with the Guards, he'd protected himself by withdrawing from a possible threat, surrendering the chance to try to hypnotize either RobbyorNathan.

What the h.e.l.l that all meant, Dawn didn't know. But she was d.a.m.ned well going to find out.

Along with discovering where Frank is, she thought,I'mgoing to dig into all your mysteries, Jonah: what your friends are...

whatyouare.

The Voice continued. ”It's good to hear you're all secure.” Then he paused, tone softening. ”Because, contrary to popular belief, I do care what happens to you.”

Even though the words hadn't been aimed at Dawn, she felt her skin flus.h.i.+ng, tingling with suggestion. And when Breisi pursed her lips, Dawn knew that she wasn't alone in thinking maybe Jonah had spoken volumes more in that one little sentence than he had in the sum of all their conversations.

Clearing her throat, Dawn glanced at the bed sheets. Suddenly, there was too much intimacy in the air.

”And how's Kiko faring?” Jonah continued brusquely, as if ignoring the previous odd moment.

Dawn patted her friend's hand. ”Slumbering away.”

”Sleep rebuilds the body.”

”Jonah.” Again, Dawn looked at the phone as if she were addressing him in the flesh. Wishful thinking. ”You sound a lot more chipper than I would've ever predicted after what's happened. Our clients ended up dead or missing. We still have no idea where Frank is-”

”Ah, but we're much farther along than I'd hoped at this point. As I said, Robby leads us to the bigger picture-the main reason we summoned you.” Dawn recalled Kiko's description of his vision: Dawn, covered in the blood of a vampire, victorious. She'd been covered with red last night, all right, but she hadn't reached the victorious part. That's because she hadn't fulfilled the prediction, The Voice had told her. Not yet.

”Beginning tomorrow,” The Voice added, ”we s.h.i.+ft focus in Frank's investigation. To the Underground and this Dr. Eternity we heard Nathan Pennybaker speak of.”

”So it's business as usual,” Dawn said, watching Kiko as he groaned in his sleep. ”Almost.”

”And back to secrecy,” Jonah said. ”We must work more quietly than ever. Surprise with these creatures is essential.”

Dawn let go of Kiko and held up a hand in a mock-yet all too serious-vow. ”Vampire hunter's honor.”

Even if she sounded brave, a pall fell over her. How many creatures of darkness were out there? How many were hiding in the crevices of society, like Robby? Like this Underground?

And...just as disturbing...how many vamp hunters were there?

The image of Robby's arm being sliced off by that long blade shadowed her again. She couldn't help wondering where Matt had been last night while she was fighting vamps. Wondering who the h.e.l.l had hired him, and why.

In her peripheral vision, Dawn noticed Breisi making a rapid swipe at her face. Crying. d.a.m.n it, what was she crying about?

Kiko? Frank?