The Path of Razors (27 page)

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Authors: Chris Marie Green

BOOK: The Path of Razors
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But more importantly, today was the day they’d all see if Costin could sense any master vibes up close and personal in those vamp rooms, where he’d be unblocked by the earth.
It was the big test, and Dawn couldn’t stop fidgeting in the front seat. It wasn’t even that she was jittery about sneaking back into that dorm, because the Friends had discovered that there was a school event—a meeting where the prefects would address the students then host a concert on the main campus that would take away a lot of traffic from the housing area. No, she was just nervous about the possibility of Costin not being able to sense anything at all in those rooms.
Then again, Dawn thought, catching herself tapping an impatient foot, maybe she wasn’t too stoked about having Natalia with them on this trip, either—a decision they’d come to this morning when Dawn was forced to admit that they really should bring a psychic who seemed to have a sixth sense about the presence of vamps. Since Dawn had done the preliminary scoping of Mrs. Jones’s room yesterday, it was time to use their bloodhounds to uncover more details.
In the backseat, Jonah said, “So what’s around here to eat?”
Dawn had the feeling he was asking for a bite. “Not me. You can make do with part of a bag in the cooler in back.”
“Not even a nip?”
“You took more than the small amount I can handle last night.”
“You know that your blood is the best for Costin. It powers us more than any other.”
That was no lie, but she had the feeling any blood would do for Jonah himself.
“Cooler,” she said with finality.
She heard him rustling around in back for the blood, then drinking his fill. Afterward, he kicked back again.
Then he began to whistle softly.
“Why don’t you just rest,” she said. “And by that, I mean your mouth.”
“I don’t need any,” he said, gesturing toward a dark-tinted window. “Besides my regular rest today, I had a good catnap on the way up here under all the blankets that were piled on me. I’m set.”
“That’s more than I can say about Eva,” Dawn muttered.
“What?” Jonah asked, even though she knew damned well he’d caught it with his uberhearing.
“Forget it.”
When they’d left, her mom had still been lolling in bed with the covers over her head. It looked like that karmic hangover had come around after all.
But maybe a nice, long nap for Eva was a good thing, because without Natalia or Costin there, Frank had needed to stay back at headquarters to organize communications. Breisi had, not so mysteriously, decided to remain behind, too, so the longer Eva stayed in the guest room, the better, and maybe she knew it.
Dawn stilled her restless foot again. No need to get jumpy. Everything would go okay, from the drama at home to Costin’s test to the safeguarding of headquarters, where a number of Friends were posted in case the team needed to stand against any vamps—or shadow girls—dumb enough to bring the fight aboveground.
Yet that hadn’t kept the team behind brick walls. Hell, no. Fear of attack would get them nowhere. The only way they would advance was to keep on investigating, whether or not it meant that they had to disguise themselves in public and use one of the back headquarter entrances like sneaky sneakers.
Jonah leaned forward, and Dawn shifted in her seat when she felt an electric awareness of him—of the body she’d been so intimate with hundreds of times when Costin was dominant.
“Just so we have this straight,” she said, “you follow my lead out there. Are you clear on that?”
“You’ve already drilled it into my head.”
“Your head’s pretty thick.”
He came closer, enough for his words to stir a few stray hairs on the back of her neck from the short blond wig she was wearing.
“
Whose
head is thick?” he asked.
“Don’t you start bitching at me again about last night, Jonah. I went after Eva because there was no other choice.”
“You could’ve waited until Breisi simmered down. Or I might’ve been able to talk Kalin into helping instead.”
Outside the windshield, branches bobbed against the graying sky. Probably Kalin, who’d insisted on accompanying Jonah here.
As Dawn kept track of the tree’s motion, she wondered if the Friend would really have gone against Breisi’s wishes or if Kalin owed more allegiance to her group than to Jonah.
She filed the question away, just as she had so many others that might be useful in the future.
“In any case,” Jonah added, “you almost got captured by that shadow girl when you went hightailing it out of headquarters, and you put the team at risk.”
“I didn’t expect rescue or backup. I told all of you to stay put.”
“Well, aren’t you the anti-princess in a tower.”
Dawn huffed out a breath, hoping he’d sit back against the door again. As far as she was concerned, the encounter with the shadow girl had only given them more information to use.
So what if she hadn’t told the team about the strangest part—the girl’s mouth brushing over hers? Dawn thought that she’d just leak that info to Kiko later, when she could laugh about it instead of feeling a little ...
God, what was the word? Not violated. Just ...
Surprised?
Refusing to rehash the scene—she’d been doing that off and on all night while trying to rest—Dawn watched as a lone raindrop hit the windshield.
Jonah sat back, thank goodness.
But he still reminded her he was there by saying, “Do you feel it?”
Her hand went to her book bag, where her weapons were waiting. “Feel what? Vibes? Some kind of Awareness you’re developing?”
“Calm it down, hotshot. I’m only wondering if
you’re
feeling watched. The shadow girl might be around, you know, here, there ... everywhere.”
At the false alarm, Dawn relaxed—sort of. And it wasn’t because she welcomed another round with Shadow Girl. Hearing casual speech in Jonah’s own mild tone—not Costin’s brooding, mysterious cadence—always kept her edgy.
That’s when Natalia and Kiko pulled up in a second black Sedona that had been subtly tricked out with protective outfitting and weapons.
Natalia got out of the driver’s side, wearing a dark blond wig, creased pinstriped pants, a creamy sweater, plus an overcoat with a scarf and gloves in her own version of schoolgirl garb. Kiko came around from the other side of the vehicle, decked out in black cargos and boots. He was going to stay behind, off campus, to play backup, just in case something happened.
That was highly unlikely, though, Dawn thought, especially with itching-for-action Jonah around.
The duo got into Dawn’s vehicle, Kiko staking out his usual spot up front, Natalia in back by Jonah. Dawn pressed a button near the steering wheel to prepare the outside UV lights if they were suddenly needed.
Kiko scanned Dawn’s own schoolgirl getup, which consisted of newish jeans and a turtleneck with a dark, fashionable, thick raincoat this time. No damned skirts for her.
“You look like the preppy activist on campus,” he said.
“And you look like you’re in a pretty good mood. You get some decent juice during your interview?”
Kiko nodded. “I figured me and my Padawan could hash through what we learned, then give you the scoop when we got here.”
At his comment, the apprentice Natalia’s full cheeks turned pink, but Dawn thought that might be more out of excitement for getting to go belowground with the team than anything.
Natalia had also taken out a colored sheet, which looked like it’d been spit out of a computer. It featured a proud poof of a guy with sharp features and a Victorian wardrobe straight out of
The Prestige.
Damn, Dawn loved that movie.
“Thomas Gatenby,” she said.
“Right.” Kiko pointed a small finger at the man’s peacock stance. “Would you ever guess he was a ladies’ dude?”
Jonah offered his own take. “Appearances can deceive. We know that better than anyone.”
Dawn bristled at the “we.” But he was here, a part of the team, whether she liked it or not.
From a speaker in the dashboard, Frank’s voice interjected. “Breisi’s telling me to ask if Natalia or Kik had any visions connected with this interview about Gatenby?”
Kiko shook his head. “I didn’t get to touch anything that belonged to the man, so I didn’t get any psychometric readings.”
“And there’s no precognitive help from me,” Natalia said.
The two psychics exchanged a glance that probably only they could understand. Dawn thought it might be about some kind of bonding moment between two so-called experts who hadn’t come through as much as they would’ve liked.
As Dawn looked away, it felt like Kiko had gone across a big, unreachable space toward Natalia, getting all buddylike with the new girl just as he had with Dawn when she’d first joined the team.
But that was silly, she thought. Kiko didn’t belong to Dawn.
No one really did.
Another raindrop splatted against the windshield, and she reached for her umbrella—or “brolly” as it was called around here—to have it ready for when she finally got to go outside.
“So what
did
you guys get?” she asked, and it sounded abrupt, even if she didn’t mean it to be.
Jonah raised an eyebrow at her, but she put him out of mind.
Kiko, who usually jumped all over any opportunity to showcase his smarts, gestured to Natalia, encouraging her to talk.
She grinned at him, then started up. “Per Dr. Hopkins, who has made a career out of studying colorful local characters, Gatenby was once the toast of society. At the same time, he was considered to be eccentric enough to have some mystery about him. He often took secretive trips out of town, leaving very little information behind. There is a distinct lack of journals or letters, for instance. Dr. Hopkins said that oral tradition—nothing written—maintains that Gatenby took up with a group who had a terrible effect on him, and these friends even caused his familial relationships to grow distant. The family worked hard to cover up these acquaintances—the Gatenby clan was social-climbing and would brook no scandal—yet there was always unsubstantiated talk about their very own black sheep.”
So he had pals, Dawn thought. Friends who had led Gatenby astray.
“Great,” she said. “Could be that those buddies of his are linked to the vamps we tangled with the other night ... and maybe they involve even more than that.”
Like a blood brother?
Had one of those friends even insinuated himself far enough into Gatenby’s life to overtake it for the purposes of an Underground?
Kiko couldn’t help himself—he’d stayed quiet long enough. “We didn’t ask Dr. Hopkins about vampires—the conversation wasn’t opening itself to it—but it sounds like they could’ve been involved, don’t it?”
“Especially,” Natalia added, “since Gatenby’s inheritance upon his parents’ untimely deaths began to be spent in ways that didn’t resemble him. Before, he wasn’t a notable supporter of charities, and when he donated land for what came to be Queenshill, it was quite a surprise. He also spent his fortune like ... how would you say it? ... like water, as well.”
Jonah spoke. “What happened to the money when he died?”
Natalia held up her hands, an empty gesture. “Gone. All of it. No trace.”
“And how did he die?” Dawn asked.
Kiko answered. “Tuberculosis. There’re medical records that say so, but Dr. Hopkins has been looking into whether or not they were forged.”
Right. Undergrounds always tried to tie up their loose ends.
“Before his death,” Natalia added, “he was a recluse. Dr. Hopkins couldn’t even identify a stable home for him. No one seemed to know where he’d gone.”
“Reclusive?” Jonah asked.
As Natalia nodded, Dawn checked him, curious about what expression he might be wearing. He’d been a rich recluse himself when Costin had found and recruited him.
Easy pickings, those discontented guys with lots of dough.
But Jonah only looked thoughtful. Dawn wasn’t so used to that.
He said, “And Dr. Hopkins doesn’t know the identity of these friends?”
Both Natalia and Kiko shook their heads before she said, “No one seems to know who they were, although there are local rumors—legends, really—about sightings of Gatenby in Highgate before his parents died.”
“Highgate,” Dawn said.
They all looked at one another while her pulse picked up momentum. Not long ago, part of the team had gone to Highgate Cemetery, where Natalia had clocked in some pretty heavy discomfort from what they thought might be a nearby bloodsucker presence. But they’d attributed it to the legend of the Highgate Vampire, who was said to haunt the graveyard.
But now . . . ?

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