Vampire Babylon - Midnight Reign Part 29

"You want me to show Dawn this murder...?" she choked.

Inferior creature, Sorin thought. Elites had never killed for their sustenance, so they were soft.

"You won't have any blood on your hands," the Master said. "The new Vampire Killer is going to do it for us because fame is the big reward. The crowds will love this kind of violent exhibition, and our murderer knows it. All you have to do, Eva, is show a little bit of the killer's transmission to your daughter. When she sees it, she'll turn away from the life she's currently leading and leave us with one less fighter to worry about." The Master's glow dimmed. "She really does need to change a lot of things about that life of hers."

"I don't like this," Eva said. "It's not right."

"She'll never know we're a part of what's going on. In fact, this is a perfect opportunity to win her over. I'm making it easy for you. Who will she turn to in her grief over tonight's murder? Her mother, of course."

Eva was quiet.

Sorin tensed, suspicious of her reaction. "Perhaps you can persuade us of your loyalty once again with your aid in this?"

At the challenge, Eva stiffened.

The Master held up a hand, silencing Sorin. "Eva, I thought you would be happier." He sounded stung. "Dawn's grief is going to help you as much as it will the Underground."

"And you would help the Underground, yes?" Sorin asked the Elite.

"Of course. I'd do about anything. But..."

"This is just another step in persuading Dawn to come down here with me," the Master added. "Think of it that way."

Eva seemed to draw back from him, though Sorin did not detect a change in physical distance.

"You talk like she belongs to you," she whispered.

"She will, Eva. Just like you do."

The Elite stared straight ahead. "Benedikte, sometimes I think you've transferred your affection for me to her, and it...concerns me."

The Master's glow ebbed again. Awareness did not reveal to Sorin whether it was because Eva had shut him out or if it was because she doubted his professed love of Dawn.

Within seconds, the old vampire began to grow agitated; sparks lined the edges of his shadowed form. "You're testing me, just like you did at the beginning, when you constantly moped around for your family. Back then, I tried to make you happier by accepting Robby's pet.i.tion to come Underground-" "You accepted his dad's pet.i.tion," Eva said. "Nathan Pennybaker wanted Robby to go through the change, not the other way around."

"Nevertheless, I was willing to overlook my doubts about turning such a young boy because he was your friend. I thought he would be like a little brother for you and ease the pain of leaving your other family behind."

But there was more to the Master's story than he was telling, Sorin thought. The old vampire had lavished young Robby with attention, hoping Eva would adore him for it. Yet the Elite had not seemed to notice, instead taking the boy under her own wing and calming his terror at what had been forced upon him. Naturally, her mentors.h.i.+p had echoed their mortal relations.h.i.+p: when Robby had misbehaved with Eva, she had reportedly always adjusted his behavior.

Yet that had only produced trouble, because, when Eva was released, Robby had lost his only stabilizing influence Underground.

He had attempted escape, although he had never visited Eva because of the risk that she would turn him in.

It had always been an ugly situation, and years had pa.s.sed before the Master had even performed another procedure.

"I only want to make you happy," the Master repeated.

Slowly, Eva stood, strong on her feet now that she had been reinfused with the Master's lifeblood. "If this plan backfires, I have everything to lose."

The Master reached for her hand. "You'll have Dawn."

"And Frank someday," Eva said. "Frank, too."

The Master's night-shaded form contained quick strikes of lightning, an upheaval. "Frank?"

A rumble shook the room, and Sorin darted forward, wanting to stop the inevitable, but powerless to do so. "Master, you must prepare for tonight's work-"

With a rock-blasting crash, the old vampire burst into his most terrible visage: a looming demon-fanged materialization of personal fear, not so much seen as felt by any individual unfortunate enough to see their own nightmares come alive.

The hate of a mother, the alienation of being stranded...all of it attacked Sorin with unclean fervor.

Screeching pierced the room, forcing Eva and Sorin to cover their ears and sink to the floor. Neither changed into their own angel-silvered forms-even in full greatness, they were nothing next to the Master: only a rainfall compared to a howling storm.

"You need my blood, Eva," the maker keened, his voice like the sc.r.a.pe of claws over the downward slope from heaven to earth.

"You need me."

And he had always needed someone like her, Sorin thought, arms cradling his head. The reflection of innocence in a chain of women, the echo of a wife dead and gone. Useless love.

The Master turned on Sorin and, although he would not look, the thought of what loomed before him made him quake: a horrifying variation of Elite beauty, distorted by rage.

Can't she see I'm making things so much easier for her tonight? he asked his son. So much easier for all of us?

No, Master. Sorin shook his head. She does not see.

He bowed lower, wis.h.i.+ng the monster away.

She will never see.... TWENTY-THREE THE UNDERGROUND OF HOLLYWOOD, 1984.

L ONG live the new Robby Pennybaker," the Elite vampires said in chorus, lifting their flutes of warm blood.

As they toasted their newest member, their robes s.h.i.+mmered, the colors and textures reminding Benedikte of far harbors and exotic markets. Behind the Elites, in the emporium's background, Groupies applauded, strewn around the steamy room like cats, resting on and rubbing up against each other.

These newer creatures didn't have the Elites' "cla.s.s," Benedikte thought. Instead, the Groupies were trendy beings, dressed in netlike material, their hair streaked with neon colors and gelled into odd styles. They'd been created by Geneva and Ginny before the equally frivolous twin vampires had adventured to the Old World years ago.

Yes, Benedikte ruled over them all, resting on a cus.h.i.+oned seat on a dais. He'd wanted to be here for this celebration, so he'd s.h.i.+fted into Sorin's shape, as he often did anyway. His real son was hidden in the private rooms so that none of the Groupies would be aware of the body doubling. However, since "Dr. Eternity" had been the one to turn every Elite into a vampire, the stars all knew when Benedikte was with them. They'd vowed never to reveal his presence-a security precaution.

He scanned all of his dear family, keeping his eye on one in particular: Eva.

His veins sang at the sight of her. It felt like his heart was cracking open and humming at the same time.

She was amidst the toasting Elites, holding Robby as the child vampire clung to her dress. When her gaze connected with Benedikte, he motioned her to him.

While she moved through her brethren-oh, how she moved-she brought Robby with her. The twelve-year-old was shrinking away from his sibling Elites as they reached out to congratulate him. But all he wanted was Eva.

A spear of...jealousy?...dug into Benedikte at the sight of her taking care of the boy. She did it so easily. Why couldn't she show Benedikte the same kind of simple affection?

Eva and Robby climbed up the steps; she bowed and saluted. The boy would learn about Underground etiquette later.

"Master," Eva said, blond hair sliding down over her face as she held her fingers to her forehead. It hid her expression.

"Sit with me."

She stood, revealed, giving her maker a friendly smile while leading Robby to a chair next to Benedikte's.

As she started to go to her master, the boy said, "Eva?" and held out his thin arms for her to stay.

Benedikte smiled at his new son. Robby, a precocious child star who had gone through a rebellious stage just before his vampiric change. He had grown his black hair into shapeless nonconformity and pierced his nose and eyebrow, too.

A boy vampire. Unnatural.

Benedikte's smile dimmed as he s.h.i.+fted his gaze to Eva. He'd only done this for her.

Keeping her distance, she sat on the arm of Robby's chair, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder. She seemed as content as always; in the year she'd been Underground, that's how she always behaved, even when Benedikte caught the lonely splinters in her gaze.

Still..."You're not pleased?" he asked. "Of course I am." She squeezed Robby's shoulder as he stared adoringly up at her.

Benedikte nodded at the boy. "He's calmed down now. You have a good effect on him."

She'd been in the private rooms when Robby had first been brought here. Since the boy had given them trouble during his fake murder-Robby had attacked an innocent bystander and almost exposed his vampirism to the public-Sorin had been forced to ease Robby's mind to blankness as he'd been transported Underground. It was an aberration n.o.body enjoyed. Then Eva had met them in the private rooms and helped to pacify Robby when the shock of change had fully hit.

That had been hours ago. It'd taken that long for their new vampire to stop screaming.

Even though Eva kept smiling at Benedikte, she used their exclusive maker/high-child Awareness to express her true feelings.

Did you think of the consequences when you turned a human child? He's going to always have this body, Benedikte.

Shot down, he didn't answer for a moment.

Her smile remained for Robby's sake. Even in Benedikte's dejection, he could still imagine she was the angel who'd gazed down on him from a movie screen, flowers in her hair, wearing her purity like an elusive fragrance. For nights afterward, Benedikte had talked himself into believing that her smile was just for him, as Tereza's never would be again.

He finally answered his favorite Elite. Nathan Pennybaker told me that he and his son had discussed Robby's future, and that Robby wanted a new, even more successful child-actor career. He can have that with my help, Eva. As a vampire, he can have a second life, a third one, a- Did you ever ask Robby?

With her sharp question, Benedikte could discern her own hurt. Deep down, Eva felt that she'd made the wrong decision in being here, that she'd been talked into the Underground by silver-tongued agents and managers who'd preyed on her fear of growing older and losing a career that supported her family.

I love you, he said, and you know I'd do anything to avoid hurting you.

Love. Eva's smile slipped as she stared at him. You don't know anything about love.

I know enough to feel it.

You don't have feelings. You think you do, but they're only wishes. You want what you can't have.

The Elites finished their drinks and called to the Groupies for more. Benedikte gazed at them. His children. His dreams.

Most of the Groupies crawled over to their social betters, skin smooth underneath their netted s.h.i.+rts and dresses. In the meantime, one of them turned on the small televisions stacked in modern-art disarray around the emporium, bringing to light multiple images of MTV dancing in tandem.

The performer, Madonna, wiggled across the screens, and the Groupies moved their hips in imitation, rising in front of the Elites in a sinuous dance.

But when the TV revealed that Madonna was wearing a crucifix, the pets all gasped at once, averting their faces.

After a stunned pause at seeing the jewelry, the Elites laughed. They'd inherited their master's immunity but, since they weren't old enough to lose as much faith as Benedikte, the first sight of something like a crucifix still took them aback.

But within seconds, the shock was forgotten.Hungers stoked, most of the higher-level vampires grabbed their choice of pet, running their hands below the netted clothing, exploring flesh and priming it for their playful bites.

Immortal G.o.ds, Benedikte thought. His progeny, ever-living idols in the eyes of society. And that made him a part of their heavenly rotation, too. They reflected what he was, just like moons sharing light from the sun.

He heard Eva's silent laugh. Look at you. If you're so in love with all of us-with our "specialness"-why haven't you ever tried to be famous yourself?

He blocked her out, not wanting to admit that maybe he was the moon and they were the sun. He didn't have the courage to do what they did, to find out if he would "make it" in their Above world.

You're avoiding all the hard questions again, she added.

Slowly, he turned back to Eva, wounded by her anger.

She cradled the boy's head. Aside from everything else, you can't pretend Robby's never going to give you grief. I know him.

I've worked with him. He's a troubled kid and what you've done to him is going to create a monster.

I thought a companion- A companion? Her eyes flared. What're you going to do next? Try to turn my husband? Or maybe even my daughter someday?

At the mention of Frank Madison, Benedikte steeled himself to take more punches.

Don't even think of touching anyone else I was close to, she continued. Do you understand?

Each word was another illusion shattered. Benedikte's vision fragmented until he felt like he was looking out of a cracked mirror.

What you saw wasn't always what you got. He'd always known that. So why was it killing him to admit it?

He reached out to her, but she moved away. The only closeness she allowed him was during her monthly infusions. That was all.

He might never get anything more.

But he hoped. He couldn't stop.

Strangely, that hope heated up in the pit of his temper. It melted, twisted, shaped itself into hideous fury. He wanted to strike out in any way possible.

Maybe, he said, down the road, your husband will find someone else, Eva. And maybe your daughter could love me if you can't.

She flew up from her seat. Robby shrank into himself, his widened gaze raised to her.

"Don't ever threaten anyone I love," she said out loud, voice quivering. "I'll hurt you beyond comprehension without even a second thought."

Then, gathering Robby, she guided the boy away, never even looking back at Benedikte as she disappeared in the direction of her room.

Never even looking back.

In the chasm, the Elites and their pets enjoyed themselves, a sea of skin and blood undulating on the floor. Mouths on bellies, red and slick, fangs sc.r.a.ping over thighs. Legs parted, hips arched and rocking. A temple of pleasure.