"So what do you think those tailed things were? They sure were ugly mo'fos. Strong, too."

Outside, a branch moaned against the velvet-shrouded window, and Dawn started in her seat. The covering blocked what was going on out there, and she didn't like that at all.

She just couldn't lose the feeling of being a bug under a microscope, of being observed by a cold, practicedsomething...

Her gaze wandered up to the big TV. The Voice's eye.

His disembodied tone moved across the room like seething fog. "I don't know what breed of vampire we're dealing with, Kiko.

From your description-iron fangs, barbed tails-I can't place the type. But until I do, we'll step up security for the Pennybakers and keep trying to ease Marla into accepting that vampires exist. I'll put Friends on watch, as well."

"Friends?" Dawn asked.

"Friends." The Voice wasn't elaborating.

Again, something prodded her to recognize its existence: vamps outside Robby's house, Robby's image in the window...

She sliced off her thoughts, unwilling to face where they were leading right now. "And how do you propose we find out what those things are?"

Breisi held up her hands in a gesture that said,Isn't it obvious?"We identify their lair."

"But you don't go in," The Voice said. "I've taught you to never enter a hidden nest of vampires.I'lltake care of something that dangerous. Do you understand, Kiko? No more wandering into a copse of trees to track them."

"Frank would've gone for it, too," the psychic said.

Her dad's name forced a wound of guilt to split open inside Dawn. "I'm with Kiko. If those vamps had anything to do with Frank's disappearance, I'm not going to back off, either, even if they do run into their little holes to hide."

Yeah, she sounded bravenow.

"Listen to me." The Voice's tone grew in volume. "There are some forces I alone will have to deal with."

"That's rich. How can you bring me into this and then-"

"We're all going to find Frank." There was a catch of barbed wire in Breisi's voice. "Neverdoubt that, Dawn."

As Dawn gaped at her, the room went quiet. Breisi glared at the carpet, then started to jog her ankle again.

"And this," The Voice said, back to his normal harsh hush, "brings me to another subject." He stopped, the speaker humming. "Dawn, I'm still not even comfortable with the thought of you being out there at the present time. Not without more training, especially after tonight."

Breisi kept bobbing her foot. "Boss, she'll do great, as long as we're around. As I said before, she's got the basics down-we just need to hone and educate her."

"I'll be fine," Dawn said, "if I know what to expect."

Kiko spoke up. "Everyone's first time with a vamp encounter is a test, Boss. And I suspect you knew that Dawn would be real good at resisting. You should've seen her when that thing tried to get into her head. She kickeda.s.s."

Even though Dawn knew she hadn't been quite that phenomenal, she shot Kiko a thankful look. He knew how much she needed to find Frank.

And she knew how much he believed that she was "key" to the investigation.

The Voice chuckled, but it wasn't a warm, inviting sound. It was dark, low, the drag of slow footsteps in the night.

"Dawnisalready an expert at keeping anyone and everyone out."

Was that a compliment? She didn't think so.

"Dawn," he added, "you'll begin training tomorrow in mind blocking until it becomes second nature to you. Breisi, please outfit her with a revolver and an encrypted cell phone when we're done here."

"She can have my forty-five. I've got lots of extras."

One of Kiko's ice packs thunked to the floor as he shifted position in his chair. "There's also the matter of where Dawn is staying.

After those vamps just popped up out of nowhere, I'm thinking we need to watch each other more."

In all the hubbub, Dawn had almost forgotten about a crash pad. She'd planned to check into a motel, seeing as she was a bit of a drifter, just like Frank, and hadn't been renting anything in L.A. Normally, Dawn would shack up with a friend-male, of course-until she needed to move on.

"Were you planning to go to Frank's?" Breisi asked softly.

Dawn flinched. "No."

That house. A reminder of how life with Frank had been a constant seesaw. One day he'd be Number One father, buying her cotton candy at Six Flags Magic Mountain or attending parent conference night at school in a b.u.t.ton-down and tie. The next, he'd be a weeping mess, a cheap bottle of whiskey drained and lying on its side next to him as he brought out her mom's old movies and locked his daughter out of their home.

As soon as Dawn had been old enough to leave-Frank had done a couple of stunt gigs years ago and she'd gotten her first job through a friend of his when she was eighteen-they'd gone their separate ways. Sure, there were stilted phone calls while she was on the road, birthday cards he remembered to send, but the two of them had never been your typical Hallmark ad.

She didn't want to go back to that house.

"Dawn can camp out at my place," Kiko said.

Relief seeped through her, and she smiled at him. He nodded back. It looked like he'd come to terms with what had happened at the Cat's Paw. Or was this Kiko's puritanical way of babysitting, keeping tabs on all the naughty misadventures he didn't approve of?

"Is everything settled then?" Breisi half-rose out of her seat, eager to be on her merry way. "I've got something else," Dawn said.

Breisi plopped back down to her ottoman.

"At the Cat's Paw, there was a PI. A Matt Lonigan. He's looking for Frank, too." She told them almost everything: how he wouldn't give her any of his information about Frank, how he wanted to meet with her tomorrow. She didn't, however, offer any chin music about the complicated little details, like how she'd thrown herself at him and he'd semi-rejected her.

In the aftermath, Breisi and Kiko watched the blank TV, as if for a reaction. Dawn swallowed hard, sensing that p.r.i.c.kle of being observed again. Her gaze flew to the velvet-curtained window, where the raindrops kept knocking.

Suddenly, the TV screen pinged on, showcasing a picture of Matt Lonigan. She felt her skin pink with heat and amazement.

"This is the man?" The Voice asked.

"Yeah." He'd probably accessed some database from his hovel. Quick work.

"Don't contact him, Dawn, not until I've checked a few matters out. Leave his number with Breisi, and if he approaches you again, refer him to my phone. There's a chance he could be of some help."

"Or he could be trouble," Breisi added.

For a full fifteen seconds, there was no answer.

Breisi held up her hands. "I hate when he doesn't even sign off. I think he gets bored with us."

"Boss is busy." Kiko started to walk out of the room.

Breisi followed. "Kik, before you two leave, can I see you downstairs?"

"Sure." The psychic glanced over his shoulder at Dawn. "Meet you in the foyer?"

"Yeah." She got up, gathering her ice packs.

With the meeting at an end, she felt like crashing, all systems down. Couldn't help it: even though she didn't require anything more than four hours of sleep per night, she was one of those fast burnout cases when she didn't get decent rest.

She yawned. Alone in the room, it sounded like the wind's wail had been pumped up. It groaned against the window, the tiny scratches of tree branches like claws against the gla.s.s.

Dawn, it seemed to say.Let me in.

She shook her head, clearing it. Nothing but my stress talking, she thought, turning away from the window.

But then she found herself facing one of The Voice's erotic paintings, and that wasn't much more comforting.

This particular lady looked like she was from Queen Elizabeth the First's court, with her starched, stand-up collar halfway undone, her lips red and moist and open for a kiss that would never come. Her bodice was unlaced, her frizzy hair unfurling from its pins. Her heavy-lidded eyes were latched onto Dawn, searing into her.

A sound filled the room-a woman's sigh of pleasure, barely discernible over the wind. Dawn's body tightened, blood heating and pumping into that hunger she could never seem to appease.

Clearing her head again, she left the office and ambled into the hall. She couldn't escape the sense that the woman looked as if she'd been feeling sorry for Dawn, even in the midst of her pa.s.sion.

I've got to get out of this house, she thought. It isn't good for my sanity.

Darkness escorted her, one step, two steps...

The drift of soft gla.s.s chimes halted her progress.

Dawn...

Warmth flowed into her, trickled downward, relaxing her for the first time since...

A door creaked open, revealing a slit of amber light.

Lured, she dropped the ice packs, pushing open the door as it moaned on its hinges, then wandered into the ma.s.sive room.

It looked like a boudoir, complete with divans draped with sheer gauze, a changing screen etched with Asian patterns, a chandelier that tinkled in gla.s.s-graced song, and three more paintings: one of an exotic lady whose veils were being unwound from her body by the gentle wind, one of a half-nude j.a.panese woman with kanji symbols painted on her bared back. The third picture was out of place, featuring a pristine landscape: the sh.o.r.eline of a beach, the water blue and pure.

Dawn sank against a satin-lined couch. It smelled of jasmine. Like an afterthought, the door closed.

The Voice came to her, even though she didn't see any speakers. "I noticed that you're weary. In so many ways."

"Didn't you disappear for the night?" she whispered, lacking energy.

"I'm right here."

Shivering, she glanced around, finding nothing.

Weary, she thought, her eyes drooping closed. He's right. So, so weary.

"That's not going to stop me," Dawn whispered. "I just need a little..."

"I know."

A light breeze dusted near her.

Was it happening again? Was he coming into her, hypnotizing her?

The mere thought raised her hackles, but she was also remembering how nice it had felt, how satisfying. How much like the physical release she'd been longing for tonight.

She closed her eyes. "Peace would be nice."

The breeze swirled closer. "Why aren't you resisting, Dawn? I want you to get used to doing that."

"I will, but there's a difference between resisting a vampire mind meld and..." Her body clenched, so needful.

"Then I have your permission?" he asked.

Was it her, or did he sound eager?

A battling pride made her hesitate, but the temptation was too overwhelming.Peace. Contentment. The addiction of forgetting everything else.

"Yes," she said, relieved now that she'd allowed herself to give up. "But when I want you out, you'll go out, ri-?"

The next thing she knew, she was soaked with his mind, hot and heavy with damp gratification. Warmth licked her skin, in between her legs, like a tide pulling in and back, lulling her.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at the sky, wet sand sucking at her back. An easy roar built, approached, splashed and covered her with wetness as the sun stroked her body.

In dreamy shock, she realized that this was the scene from the painting. It was like she'd become one of his women, caught by oils and textured by an artist's hand, preserved in a langorous pose.

Or maybe this was some kind of exhaustion-fed fantasy...

She heard his voice as if it were part of the air.

"Tell me more about this Matt Lonigan, Dawn."

This wasn't the reason she'd invited him in. She didn't want questions. She wanted escape.

Burrowing further into the sand, she opened her legs as the tide lapped at her, bathing her thighs, her s.e.x.

Matt Lonigan.

She conjured up an image of him hovering over her, sand and sun glistening on his skin, emphasizing his muscles as water dripped down from his body onto her own. Her mind forced him to lower himself, to fit his length over hers and slide down, lower and lower, until his mouth reached her belly.

He kissed her, using his tongue to glide southward. With it, he separated her, delved inside, making her swell and grasp at the sand.