Broken (35 page)

When she got to Costin’s field of fire portrait, which Kiko had propped against the wall, she peered into the flames, hoping beyond hope that Costin would magically appear.

Once, back in L.A., she’d found him resting in the painting. He hadn’t revealed what he really was to her yet, and he was as mysterious as ever with a red cape covering his form, his face hidden by the long, dark hair he’d sported when he’d had a body, before it’d been destroyed and he’d moved on to an existence of borrowing the “vessels” of others.

But now, there was only the fire that had always flamed in the background.

She stared at it, her heartbeat gradually mellowing. Then she backed away from the portrait, frustrated that Costin hadn’t come to it.

But what had she expected?

Knowing it would do no good to sit here staring at a picture, she went to the closet, fumbled into some dark jeans, boots, and a black sweater that had one sleeve cut off for her cast and sling. Then she went to Frank’s room to continue the vigil she’d deserted when she’d almost collapsed from need of rest a few hours ago.

Once there, she grasped her father’s hand as he slept in his bed. In human age, he was a candidate for Rogaine and a midlife crisis—he’d been a vampire for only a little over a year—but if a person saw him for the first time now, he’d look like he was in his nineties. His health hadn’t improved since Eva had left, but that was because he didn’t have any of her blood to drink. Yet, at least the dose she’d given him had seemed to clear his breathing and lend him a little gusto after the sustenance had infiltrated his body. Dawn was sure that Eva’s blood feeding had been the only reason Frank had even pulled together enough energy to stab Eva in the first place.

When Dawn had told him that he needed to see a doctor, Frank had begged the team not to take him to one. He felt much better, he said, and if he could just keep drinking the supplement juice Breisi had previously invented for Dawn and Eva when they’d been blood donors, he was sure he’d improve on his own. He’d insisted that there’d be too many questions about his “amazing disease” at a hospital, and those might result in some kind of investigation that would put the team in the spotlight. Dawn had said that she didn’t know what the big deal would be if they were fingered now for their vamp hunting.

Were there any more Undergrounds left to track down? Why did they even need secrecy anymore?

But she’d only been arguing on the basis of emotion, because there were still TV news reports that mentioned terrorist suspicions, which could lead to the team because of those charmed humans and the Highgate explosion. Even two days after the Underground’s end, things weren’t comfortable for the team out on the streets, and putting themselves in a featured role at the hospital probably wouldn’t be the best move. Also, Frank had been adamant about sticking to his own program, and since Dawn knew half the battle for recovery would be psychological, she’d let him have his way. But only until the end of today. Past that, if he didn’t show progress, she was hauling him in.

As he woke up, he smacked his lips, obviously thirsty. Dawn reached for the glass of supplement juice on his nightstand, held up his head, then helped him drink.

Just like the old days. How many times had she nursed Frank back from a hangover when she was growing up? Little had she known that, someday, she’d be getting him through the mother of all bad times.

Breisi must’ve sensed Frank awakening because Dawn felt her brush by. The Friend had been resting in her portrait, still recharging, off and on. She’d needed the extra time in the painting because of the amount of energy Eva had sapped out of her. But even with that, she wasn’t back to her full awesome Breisi-ness.

As the Friend hovered next to Dawn, not saying anything as she checked on Frank, the spirit’s essence seemed thin.

“How is he?”
Breisi asked, sounding old.

Frank answered in his own grandparent voice. “He’s fine, Breez.”

Dawn had never heard her dad’s voice hold such a slant of resignation, but she couldn’t say just what he’d resigned himself to.

Breisi leaned her essence against Dawn’s shoulder. In spite of her being a spirit, the touch felt like a maternal show of comfort. It was enough to remind Dawn of what she’d never really gotten from Eva.

To her, Eva had gone back to being the mother who’d been murdered when Dawn was a baby. It was the only way Dawn could cope with the white lady, even though it wasn’t the truth.

But sometimes the truth didn’t work in real life. Sometimes the truth, in itself, was a lie.

Frank was looking at the network of beauty marks on the left side of her face and neck, then the red splashes on her right. Feeling like the freak she was, she got out of her chair. Now that Breisi was awake, Dawn would give them some alone time. Besides, she’d planned to do a lot of work, like poring over the story Costin had told her about The Whisper. She’d written down everything she recollected from the time he’d confessed his past to her, and she’d been going over it again and again, trying to find any detail that might’ve escaped her before—anything that’d give her a clue about where he was. She’d also been through his library, thinking that there had to be a hint somewhere in there.

Jonah had been shadowing her the whole time, helping with research, but neither of them had mentioned how he’d made a bid for her the other day. As for Kiko and Natalia, they’d been going through Costin’s belongings, attempting touch reads. Also, the Friends had still been out and about, conducting their own search.

They were all sticking with the hope that Costin would be back, and sometimes Dawn believed this was the only thing keeping her going. If the Friends disappeared, then she would throw in the towel, because that would be a sure sign that he was out of earthly bounds.

But they were still here, and that was good enough.

As she left Frank’s room, she sent one last glance to her dad, his hair blowing at Breisi’s light touch. Then, while limping down the hall on her way to the library, Dawn ran into Kiko, who seemed to have been looking for her.

He grabbed her hand and started pulling her along, past the Friend portraits. “Don’t kill me, but I’ve got a plan.”

A plan? That was a great thing. A plan was what they needed.

“Why would I kill you for that?” she asked.

When he sent her a sheepish grin, she knew she wasn’t going to like this plan.

“I’ve been thinking about how to present this to you,” he said, “because your permission is important.”

“For what?”

“I’ve got something set up in a sitting room. Indulge me until we get there, okay?”

He helped her down the stairs, minding her recovering leg. A gimp and a freak. She was a real package.

“Thing is,” he added, “you gotta promise not to kill me when we get there.”

“No guarantees.”

He didn’t know just how true that was. She hadn’t told anyone but Breisi and Frank about the dragon dreams or about what she felt creeping through her body. It was a good idea for someone to be privy to the information, though, and Dawn trusted Breisi to inform the Friends so they could keep an eye on Dawn. In the event something did happen to her or in case her fears about the dragon’s blood still living in her weren’t just her imagination. No use worrying the rest of the team about it. Not yet.

Kiko brought her to the sitting room with the hellhound tapestries, where he and Natalia seemed to be hanging out a lot lately. She was waiting there, reclining on the rose-upholstered settee, her curly dark hair gathered in that barrette at her nape. If Dawn hadn’t seen the psychic looking like such a black- garbed spy queen the other night when they’d gone Underground, she would’ve sworn that Natalia never got out of those tweed skirts of hers.

In front of Natalia on the mahogany table, a Ouija board waited.

Dawn groaned. Always with the Ouija.

“Hear me out, if you please,” Natalia said, her accent just as smooth as Costin’s used to be. Somehow, their Wallachian and Romanian vibes made Dawn think they were far wiser than she was. Probably true, too.

Dawn said, “Have you guys been trying to contact Costin through the board? Because if the answer’s yes, I
will
kill you.”

“No, no,” Kiko said, taking a seat next to Natalia. Two of a kind—Tweedledee and Tweedle-Innocent. “We waited until we brought you in on this. I told you—we want your permission before we start anything up.”

“Bring me in on what exactly? On . . .” Dawn was about to say, “On pulling Costin out of his paradise so we can chat with him?” But wasn’t that like admitting he was really gone? Wasn’t that the last thing she was prepared for if it was somehow true and the Friends were still around because of a cosmic fluke?

Kiko’s voice softened. “Dawn, what exactly are you afraid we’ll find?”

“I . . . don’t know.” But she did. Aside from not finding Costin at all, she was afraid she’d get a final answer from him; that he’d tell her that, wherever he was, he far preferred it to being here, just like Eva had pretty much done.

“Listen,” Kiko said, “if you’re uncomfortable with the Ouija, we can do this another way that I myself feel more in control of. I can try channeling, since that’s how Costin always operated. He liked to assume bodies, and I’d give him the chance to talk through mine.”

Dawn knew without a doubt that Kiko and Natalia had only put the Ouija board on the table to make this option seem all the better.
Acting!

Shysters.

“Kiko, channeling’s dangerous,” she said. “Besides, I’ve never seen you do it before.”

“I’ve studied it and dabbled before I came on the team, but Nat and I consulted Josephine Spencer over in Clerkenwell recently. She’s considered an expert, and she guided me through a dry run with other spirits. That’s what we’ve been doing the last couple of days, but we didn’t want to spring it on you until we were sure it would work.”

Natalia had her hand on his arm. “He’s good at it, Dawn. A natural.”

“And Costin would never hurt me,” Kiko added.

“What if another spirit interferes?” Dawn asked.

“Then I know how to cast it out if I want,” Kiko said. “Natalia would interfere if she felt things were getting out of hand, too.”

“What if Costin doesn’t come?” Dawn asked.

Kiko gave her a smile. “What if we don’t try and it would’ve worked? The Friends are still around, remember? Odds are good that Costin’s available, and you know it.”

“Did you ever think,” Natalia said, “that perhaps Costin was thrown out of Jonah’s body by the force of the dragon, and he’s disoriented? He might be trying to find his way back here, even now.”

This wasn’t fair. They were tossing too much at her, and it all sounded so logical.

“Are you saying he has amnesia?” Dawn asked, making sure they heard her doubt.

Natalia said, “Josephine Spencer suggested something along those lines.”

“We didn’t tell her specifics about our Underground hunts though,” Kiko was quick to say. “Just so you know.”

Dawn heard someone enter the room. It was Jonah, and from the scent of jasmine surrounding him, a safe guess would reveal that Kalin was here, too.

The spirit only confirmed it when she bumped into Dawn, like a body check on the street from someone who wanted to start shit. Now that the Underground hunt was over, the Friend was back to being a pain, and it should’ve made Dawn feel right at home. But it didn’t.

Natalia and Kiko thanked Kalin for fetching Jonah, then caught him up on their idea. He got a light in his eyes. The hue didn’t match the old vampire blue, but excitement made it close.

“I vote yes,” Jonah said. “Dawn, why would you even have to mull it over?”

Razor Blade Jonah. His desire to bring Costin to him again hadn’t abated one bit.

“He wouldn’t be resuming his place in your body, Jonah,” she said. “Kiko’s inviting him into
his
vessel temporarily. You know that, right?”

It was like she’d roundhouse kicked him in the chest, betraying some kind of agreement between them that she hadn’t really been aware of.

Good God—did he think she was all for still having their ménage à trois or whatever you wanted to call it? Did he think Costin would still want to reside in his body and that Jonah could stay close to Dawn that way?

She didn’t want to flatter herself, but when Jonah had told her that he was still here even if Costin wasn’t, it’d unsettled her.

Kiko had already hopped down from the settee, going over to dim the chandelier light while Natalia put away the Ouija. They were taking Dawn’s inability to say yes
as
a yes, and she was strangely grateful for that. She’d never doubted that she would give her approval for a channeling; it just would’ve taken a while to get there.

“Kalin,” Kiko said, “it’d probably be easier for me to sense another spirit if you weren’t in here. Can you scram?”

With a drawn out sigh, the Friend left.

Psychic #1 lit a candle in the middle of a table that already had four chairs around it. Interesting to note that the candle had been planted there, too, as if they’d fully expected Dawn to give in right away.

Totally set up.

Kiko waved everyone over. “I’m no fairground hack, so I don’t use no fancy stuff. This won’t be any kind of big show.”

“Just do what you need to do,” Dawn said, sitting next to Natalia. She couldn’t believe they were going to try this now. Wasn’t there anything more to prepare before they got into it? Like, maybe, her psyche?

But even though she was dragging her feet, her heartbeat was hopping.

Kiko went for the seat on the other side of Dawn, near her dragon marks. “I want to be linked with you. I think Costin would be most drawn to where you are.”

He climbed into the chair, his legs tucked under him to add height. Jonah assumed a spot across the table, his dark hair covering one of his eyes as his gaze swept over Dawn, then away. He was still bruised by her comment about Costin taking up Kiko’s body and not his.