Midnight Reign

by Chris Marie Green

  “Why’s that?”

  “Look at you.” Jac held her hand out, chock-full of empathy. “You scream hatred, Dawn.”

  That was it—an invitation to say everything she’d always wanted to, whether or not Jac deserved it.

  “She’s dogged me my whole life, and not in the way a mom should. It was always, ‘Why aren’t you as pretty?’ ‘Why aren’t you as talented?’ ‘Why aren’t you as sweet?’ And you know what? I went the other way in every category. I got tired of competing with her as soon as I was old enough to feel inferior, and that was real early, believe me.”

  She felt so much better now that she was directing her wrath at the proper place, not inwardly, not at every other person who happened to cross her path.

  Jac’s voice quavered. “She wouldn’t…I mean, don’t you think she would just want you to be happy if she were alive? Don’t you think she’d do anything to make that happen? Just…you’ve got to stop competing with her, Dawn. I’m sure that would’ve made her so sad.”

  Throat closing with heat, Dawn held up a finger. “There’s no way I can compete—do you know why?”

  “Why?” Jac said, eyes getting watery.

  “Because Eva Claremont is the big winner.” Dawn was shaking now. “She took the top prize in the Desert Your Family Sweepstakes, and I’ll be damned if I ever compete for that title again.”

  If Jac were the real Eva, she’d understand that. Eva hadn’t ever died. She’d literally left her family to go Underground.

  Jac’s empty hand covered her heart for a second, her gaze exploding with such emotion that Dawn nearly went into defensive mode, ready to fight and bring it all down.

  But then, just as if the girl’s response had only been subliminal—a vision spliced between the frames of a filmstrip—it was gone.

  Instead, she was shaking her head, holding her drink to her chest like it was a comfort object. “Dawn, poor Dawn.”

  Squeezing shut her eyes, Dawn fought—what? Was it disappointment that she hadn’t flushed out Eva? Or was it bottom-sucking disgust at not wanting to admit that her mom really was dead?

  God, dead…

  “Why don’t you sit down, Dawn.”

  She felt Jac guiding her to a chair, felt the give of wicker at her back and the softness of a cushion at her bottom. She buried her face in a hand. Above her, Jac hesitated, probably knowing Dawn wasn’t going to talk anymore right now.

  “I’ll get us something else to drink, okay?” Jac said, stroking Dawn’s hair from her forehead. “I’ll be right back, and we can settle in for a long chat.”

  As she left, Dawn intuitively knew that Jac was letting her regain composure. Wasn’t that the sign of a friend? And didn’t that friend deserve to be treated better?

  She opened her eyes, leaning her head back, taking in the stars that blurred in the sky with the heat of oncoming tears.

  I don’t want to be this way anymore, she thought. I can’t keep being this way.

  She evened out her breathing, focusing on the sky until it cleared.

  You’ve got to make things right when she comes back. Apologize and move on—

  A dark, blurred figure suddenly filled Dawn’s sight. Before she could react, a glowing gaze locked her in place, eyes blazing and swirling into a whoosh of indescribable colors. It felt like a burning fist was breaking into her, slicing through her pliant body, drawing her up to the edge of her chair.

  Mind screw?…just like Robby when he attacked?…block it, stop it….

  Dawn pushed out with all the inner energy she could muster. It wasn’t fast enough—

  But it was good enough to smack the attacking mind halfway out of hers, good enough to keep the other out of her deepest memories and thoughts.

  Still, her limbs were pinned to her sides, not because her strength was gone, but because she couldn’t think of how to move.

  Where was her Friend protection? Dawn realized she hadn’t smelled jasmine for a while. Had her defense somehow been driven away?

  “Just relax,” said the unknown assailant, the hypnotic voice becoming Dawn’s everything. “Allow me to come in.”

  No, she thought. Never.

  The other’s power seeped into her, turning muscle and bone to stilled liquid.

  “There…”

  The tone, so gentle and warped, dragged her down into a watery limbo where sounds became muffled and slow, where heaviness pushed at her from every side.

  Falling, floating down until she didn’t have the strength to even think of driving him out anymore.

  Too lazy, too surreal…

  Triumphantly, the creature stepped forward, light from the reflecting pool below casting blue wavers over his stunning face.

  “I’d like you to accept my drink invitation this time,” Paul Aspen said, “but now, I’ll be the one who’s imbibing.”

  FIFTEEN

  THE BIG DRINK

  Iguarantee,” the actor added, “that a drink will make you feel better.”

  Weightless, stretched from all sides, Dawn didn’t answer. She only had enough energy to push away—

  Stay out. Don’t come in….

  Her strength ebbed, and she plunged back into his sway.

  “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” As his eyes glimmered like a hypnotic object waving back and forth, Paul Aspen flashed that eternally boyish smile. Persuasive, trustworthy. “I only want to taste you. You’re notorious in the Underground and, as you might know, I’ve got a yen for breaking in new girls. You’ll never remember a thing afterward. No pain, just peace.”

  Somewhere, the phrase “mind wipe” bobbed by like an irrelevant cartoon object in a fragmented river. But she was too enthralled by what he had said to pay attention.

  No pain, just peace. What she would give for some of that….

  Right now, as he stared into her, warming her like a fire in the cold, she believed he could give it.

  But…Old habits…

  She tightened her mind block, straining at him….

  Then lost it again.

  Paul Aspen, waving up and down in his own dreamboat, sighed, slid his arms under Dawn, and lifted her. The world slanted while he carried her off, through the swollen foliage to a clearing under the same stars that had been keeping her company only minutes ago.

  But, this time, those stars bent and twisted, then released, softening into reflections of Paul’s swirled eyes.

  “When you walked into my place tonight,” he said, “it was the first time I’d seen you face-to-face. The human who brought down Robby Pennybaker, who was not only the subject of your missing persons case, but my blood brother. Your power turns me on. You’re a walking goddess, Dawn, and by becoming a part of me, you can be a part of everything beautiful.”

  She had heard men whisper seduction to her before, then take it back as quickly as a mind wipe when they were done. Back in that other world, pretty words inevitably included Dawn’s relation to Eva, the sex idol.

  Yet, in this pool of emptiness, Paul Aspen had not mentioned anything about her mother.

  He stroked her cheek, smiling down at her like a rogue angel, and by just looking into his eyes, Dawn somehow knew he wasn’t thinking about Eva at all.

  The realization made her blood float with ecstasy. No pain, just peace…and beauty. She was his universe, the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, just like with…Jonah. Yeah, with Jonah…

  “Good.” His fingers traveled from her face to her neck, where he paused at the crucifix, then laughed, using a nearby stick to flick that and Breisi’s sharp silver pendant aside. Languidly, he continued stroking. “Beautiful, so beautiful. May I…?”

  Her mind block slipped, but her deepest layer, her fear—

  Fought

  Against

  It—

  But at his words, she slipped again.

  “I knew you wouldn’t be easy,” he said, smiling. “Nothing worthwhile ever is. You need to be eased into peace, I suppose, and that’s okay, b
ecause I want a little of you so badly I’ll wait. You won’t use any of this against me anyway. You won’t be able to.”

  Mind wipe…

  She groaned, still fighting somewhere in the far reaches of sanity, but his gaze was too much, too compelling.

  Paul ran his fingertips over the center of her throat and, with only a look, she knew everything about him: how he’d been an errand boy on a studio lot, fetching water for the likes of Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland. But then a producer’s wife had discovered him, at first making him an extra in her husband’s movies, then giving him a supporting role that turned into so much more.

  He’d been a star, seeking a place in the stratosphere with names like Rock Hudson and Frank Sinatra.

  But one day the offers stopped coming, even though he still had his looks. He was too much trouble, they said. And that was when Paul met him, at the beginning of his freefall. The Doctor. He had saved this star, resurrected him, given him new life that he would be able to reinvent for generations to come.

  He’d stayed Underground longer than most as the Doctor had perfected his technique in creating his first vampires. And he had been able to stay Above as “Paul Aspen” longer than any of the others, thanks to the use of makeup that allowed him to “grow older” bit by bit. Now, on his last legs in this incarnation, he was anticipating the need to go Underground again soon…very soon….

  In this silent sharing, the vampire leaned closer, smelling of something Dawn could not name, like an exotic scent that led her into a sublime sleep.

  “I’m the closest you’ll get to immortal. To come into me with your blood should be an honor, Dawn. I want to be the first to have you, because even though you won’t remember this moment, you’re going to eventually know the Underground. You’ll find paradise there, too, and beauty. Always beauty. You’ll never have to worry about any of your earthbound problems again.”

  His smiled shimmered. “You’re going to fit in with us.”

  He trailed his fingers to her collarbone, and Dawn shifted, body so needy, so attuned to the only anesthetic she knew.

  Then, like clouds in her dream/nightmare, two thoughts wisped by:

  Matt.

  Jonah.

  She tried to bar those out, too. But it was not as easy as a regular mind block, the one that was even now dissipating again while Paul smoothed his palm up, down, up her neck. Heavy motion, sexual, faster, harder, an innuendo making her pulse sweet and thick.

  “Don’t look so sad,” he said. “I heard your father is missing. And I know your mom has caused you so much pain. You’ve fought long and hard during such a short life, so why not allow me to lift your burden for a night?”

  Looking into the promising dreamscape of his gaze, moving with his rough/tender caresses, she sincerely believed he could make things better, erase all her problems and shine light all over the earth. He promised, and it had to be true.

  In the liquid haze of her consciousness, he stopped stroking, his eyes boring into her with genuine care, drawing her to him. Slowly, she offered her neck, her veins pounding against skin, begging to be punctured.

  He could take it all away. If he did, maybe everything would be fine.

  “Yes?” he asked, eyes brightening, heating.

  Her mind block quivered with the struggle of holding. It left the rest of her unguarded, open to what he wanted.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Without pause, his form expanded, beginning the change.

  Too late, Dawn opened her mouth to yell, but couldn’t.

  With a shuddering rumble, the vampire whipped into himself, just as Robby had, snapping into Danger Form with the violent speed of a storm. Milliseconds later, he was hovering, luminous and piercing to the eye, a breathtaking monster that froze Dawn to the ground even as it lured her to open herself to its bite.

  He reached out, the angelic, formless fog that had once been his body revealing all her fantasies. You are loved, the creature’s mist whispered, you are free from sadness.

  Yet Paul Aspen, vampire, was not tempting her with solid images as Robby Pennybaker had done: he was luring her with whispers in the dark of light.

  On the edge of screaming—at her weakness and her victory—Dawn stiffened just before he laid fang to her throat. He broke her skin with a sinuous pop, sliding into her jugular vein and making her arch and grasp at the dirt.

  “Oh, G—” She grabbed at air—freezing, hot, thick, horrifying air.

  Her head was pummeled by a million fists punching to get into her brain, hands that cried to sift through every piece of information. And, as the vampire sucked the blood from her, she went dizzy, feeling a part of herself escaping.

  Reaching out to grasp anything, everything, she urged her mind block to defend her.

  But…it didn’t. Mistake, she’d made the biggest mistake of…

  Oh…

  He was pulling at her with erotic greed. Instinctively, she pushed at him, but connected with nothing. Her hearing filled with the sounds of his animal frenzy while images of his seduction kept blipping into her:

  Beautiful. Goddess. Safe. Loved.

  The sky started going black, dimming into midnight and guttering the stars. Energy, life itself, ebbed out of her, bit by bit….

  Peace…No…pain…

  The breath left her as her eyelids closed.

  She didn’t know when the vampire stopped because time didn’t exist anymore. There was quiet in this hovering world, he had been right about that. Blessed blankness.

  She felt a touch on her neck. Fingertips, solid, warm with the tapping pulse of her blood in his creature’s body. She felt her wound knit together, still wet and sore.

  “Before I say good-bye, sweet Dawn,” he said, voice back to normal, “I want to thank you, even though I didn’t drink enough to leave you terribly affected. I would’ve liked more, but at least I can say I was the first. Always the first.” He laughed a little. “It was worth any hell I’ll catch. But you won’t be turned, you won’t even remember anything about this….”

  She summoned a mind block again, but it rolled into nothing.

  The Voice…she thought over and over.

  She hadn’t been careful enough.

  Then the vampire laid a palm on her forehead, and the last thing she remembered was the stars blinking into oblivion.

  IN her sleep, she heard something thudding against her brain, pounding, pounding, pounding.

  Jerking awake, Dawn found herself coated with sweat, which stuck to her with a clammy chill.

  “Vamps,” she said, still hearing the pounding in her mind.

  But then she blinked and looked around, and the chaos slunk back into her nightmares.

  She was lying on a carpet that covered the wooden floor of a strange house. Fully clothed except for her jacket, she found an Indian blanket wrapped around her legs, telling her how restlessly she’d slept.

  When she spied a fireplace, she realized she was in a living room. A further glance at the furnishings—antique paintings and mini wire reconstructions of things like the Eiffel Tower—brought it all back.

  Dawn was sitting smack-dab in the middle of Jacqueline Ashley’s living room.

  Her head started booming out information: Jac’s gingerbread house on Bedford Drive. A place that’d been built for a director from the ’30s. The producer from Jac’s new movie, renting it out for her during the shoot. He wanted a lovely old-time starlet PR image for Jac. He was interested in her long-term career.

  Dawn tried to stand, but—damn. She felt…weird. Weak limbed.

  After a second try, she wobbled to her feet, wondering why she felt so awful. It seemed like she should be remembering something…. But instead, there was only a void right in the middle of her.

  She hadn’t sucked down any alcohol, right? Had someone slipped something into her water then? And why couldn’t she remember anything past her blowup with Jac about Eva?

  Looking at the mantel clock, which read 3:22, Daw
n tried to piece everything together. How had she gotten back here?

  She headed toward the steps leading to a second story, her body also feeling the slightly bruised ache of a morning after. But she hadn’t had sex, right? Oh, shit. What’d happened?

  With a perfunctory knock at every door, she checked inside, hoping to find Jac’s room. On the third try she succeeded, the faint hall light spotlighting her party buddy dressed in a lace nightie and covered by the sheet on her four-poster bed. The room smelled of historically rendered must, just like Limpet’s place: memories pressed into paint and rose-patterned carpet.

  “Jac?” Still noodle-bodied, Dawn crept closer.

  “Mmmm.” Jac smiled in her sleep.

  “Hey.”

  Dawn gingerly touched a bare shoulder. Nothing. She tried again, but harder this time.

  The blonde flinched, squinted at Dawn, then glanced around. “What time is it?”

  “After three. Jac, what happened at that party?”

  The starlet took a moment. Then, “You drove your car and met me here, then we went to Paul’s together. We got into an…interesting conversation and when I left for a few minutes…I came back to find you passed out in that chair.” Jac settled an arm underneath her head, staring up at Dawn and looking innocent enough to chase away any thoughts of wrongdoing. “You’ve been working hard, so I let you snooze away. It was okay though. People were coming up to me and chatting, so babysitting you actually kept me out of trouble. Paul helped me drag you back to the car and you didn’t even wake up.” She yawned. “Couldn’t carry you by myself up the stairs to a guest room here though.”

  Absently, Dawn touched her neck, where the skin was tender, but not broken.

  “So did you at least have a little fun?” Jac mumbled hopefully.

  “I’m not sure. Did you see anyone put anything into my water?”

  Jac sat up, hair ruffled. “What’re you talking about?”

  “Party tricks.” Dawn paused. “Listen, thanks for watching over me, because if some chucklehead did roofie me up, you probably kept them away.”

  “Roofie?”

  “Rohypnol, the Forget-Me Pill, R2-Do-U. It’s like a sedative with no smell, color, or taste, and dickheads crush it up and put it into their victim’s drinks.”