Part 3 (2/2)
Claire blinked again. ”Are you trying to tell me that you're still on our side?”
”Define our, my dear.”
”The side of . . .” Well, he was right. It was a little tough to define. ”You know. Us!”
Myrnin actually laughed, let go, and stuffed his hands casually into the pockets of his frock coat. ”Us, indeed. I understand you might be skeptical. You have reason. Perhaps I should allow someone else to convince you-Ah. Right on time.”
She wouldn't have believed him, not for a second, except that a section of the wall opened, there was a flash of white-hot light, and a woman stepped through, followed by a long line of people.
The woman was Amelie, vampire queen of Morganville-though she didn't look anything like the perfect pale princess that Claire had always seen. Amelie had on black pants, a black zip-up hoodie, and running shoes.
So wrong.
And behind her was the frickin' vampire army, led by Oliver, all in black, looking scarier than Claire could remember ever seeing him-he usually at least tried to look nondangerous, but today, he obviously didn't care. He wore his graying hair tied back in a ponytail, and it pulled his face into an unsmiling mask.
He crossed his arms and looked at Myrnin and Claire like they were something slimy he'd found on his coffee shop floor.
”Myrnin,” Amelie said, and nodded graciously. He nodded back, like they were pa.s.sing on the street. Like it was just a normal day. ”Why did you involve the girl?”
”Oh, I had to. She's been quite difficult,” he said. ”Which helped convince Bishop that I am, indeed, his creature. But I think it's best if you leave her behind for now, and me as well. We have more work to do here, work that can't be done in hiding.”
Claire opened her mouth, then closed it without thinking of a single coherent question to ask. Oliver dismissed both of them with a shake of his head and signaled his vampire shock troops to fan out around the room on either side of the door to the hallway.
Amelie lingered, a trace of a frown on her face. ”Will you protect her, Myrnin? I was loath to let you lead her this far into the maze; I should hate to think you'd abandon her on a whim. I do owe her Protection.” Her pale gray eyes bored into his, colder than steel in winter. ”Be careful what you say. I will hold you to your answer.”
”I'll defend the girl with my last breath,” he promised, and clasped his hand dramatically to the chest of his ragged frock coat. ”Oh, wait. That doesn't mean much, does it, since I gasped that last breath before the Magna Carta was dry on the page? I mean, of course I'll look after her, with whatever is left of my life.”
”I'm not joking, jester.”
He suddenly looked completely sober. ”And I'm not laughing, my lady. I'll protect her. You have my word on it.”
Claire's head was spinning. She looked from Myrnin to Amelie to Oliver, and finally thought of a decent question to ask. ”Why are you here?”
”They're here to rescue your boyfriend,” Myrnin said. ”Happy birthday, my dear.”
Amelie sent him a sharp, imperious look. ”Don't lie to the girl, Myrnin. It's not seemly.”
Myrnin sobered and bowed his head very slightly. Claire could still see a manic smile trembling on his lips.
Amelie transferred her steady gray gaze to Claire. ”Myrnin has been helping us gain entry to the building. There are things we are doing to retake Morganville, but it is a process that will take some time. Do you understand?”
It hit Claire a little late. ”You're . . . you're not here to rescue Shane?”
”Of course not,” Oliver said scornfully. ”Don't be stupid. What possible strategic value does your boyfriend hold for us?”
Claire bit her lip on an instinctive argument and forced herself to think. It wasn't easy; all she wanted to do was scream at him. ”All right,” she finally said. ”I'm going to make him strategically valuable to you. How's that?”
Myrnin slowly raised his head. He had a warning look on his face, which she ignored completely.
”If you don't rescue Shane and his father, I'm not going to help keep Myrnin on track, and I'll destroy the maintenance drugs and the serum we were working on. I'm guessing you still want to avoid getting on the crazy train, right?” Because that was where all the vampires were headed, even Oliver and Amelie.
When she'd first come to Morganville, she'd thought they were immortal and perfect, but in many ways, that was all just a front.
The reason there were no other vampires out there in the world-or very few, anyway-was that over the years, their numbers had gradually declined, and their ability to make other vampires had slipped away. It was a kind of disease, something nasty and progressive, although they'd been in denial about it for a very long time.
Amelie had created Morganville to be their last, best hope of survival. But the disease hadn't gotten better; it had gotten worse, and seemed to be affecting them faster and faster these days. Claire had learned to pick up the subtle signs by now, and they were already visible-tremors in the pale hands, sometimes up the arms. Soon, it'd be worse. They were all terrified of it. They had good reason to be.
Myrnin had developed a maintenance drug, but they needed a cure. Badly. And with Myrnin slipping fast, Claire was the key to getting that done.
There was a profound silence in the room, and for a second, Claire's angry resolve faltered. Then she saw the look in Oliver's eyes. Oh no you don't, she thought. Don't you look smug.
”We do this my way,” Claire said, ”or I'll destroy all the work and let you all die.”
”Claire,” Myrnin murmured. He sounded horrified. Good. She was glad. ”You can't mean that.”
”I do mean it. All your work, all your research. If you let Bishop kill Shane, none of it matters to me anyway.” She was scared to say this, but in a way, it was a relief. ”It's not all about you and your stupid ancient feuds. There are living people in this town. We have lives. We matter!” She'd let the lid off her simmering, terrified anger, and now it was boiling all over the place. She whirled on Myrnin. ”You! You gave us to him! You turned on us when we needed you! And you”-Amelie, this time-”you didn't even care. Where have you been? I thought you were different; I thought you wanted to help-but you're just like the rest of them; you're just-”
”Claire.” Just the one word, but from Amelie that was all it took to stop Claire in her tracks. ”What else could I do? Bishop turned enough of my followers that any action I would take would have been against my own people. It would have been a fight to the death, and that fight would have destroyed everyone you or I love. I had to withdraw and allow him to think he had triumphed.
Myrnin did what he could to protect you and all your friends, while we found another way.”
Claire snorted out a bitter little laugh. ”Sure he did.”
”You're all alive, I believe, unlike most who've crossed Bishop throughout his life. You might think on how unlikely that is, so long after he should have lost interest and torn you and my town apart.” Amelie's face was as hard as carved marble. ”My father has no interest in administering. Only in destroying. Myrnin has been persuading him to at least try to keep Morganville alive, and putting himself at constant risk to do so.”
Claire didn't want to believe it, but when she actually thought about it, she remembered how often Bishop had ordered people killed, and how often Myrnin-or Myrnin and Michael!-had managed to distract him from carrying it out. ”Michael,” Claire said slowly. ”You turned Michael back, didn't you? He's not really Bishop's anymore.”
Amelie and Oliver exchanged looks, and Oliver shrugged very slightly. ”She is a quick study,” he said. ”I never said otherwise.
Unless the boy's a bad actor.”
”If he were a bad actor, he'd be long dead by now,” Amelie said. ”Claire-you must not treat Michael any differently. For his life's sake, you must not. Now, I need you to go with Myrnin. The serum you've cultured from Bishop's blood is of vital importance to us now; we need to treat all those we can reach, and we must have enough of a supply to do the job. I rely upon you for that, Claire.”
”Why should I help you at all?” Claire asked, and felt a tremor of pure chill along the back of her neck when Amelie's gray eyes sharpened their focus on her. ”You haven't promised me anything. I want you to swear you'll get Shane and his father out of there alive.”
Oliver growled, and from her peripheral vision she saw the ivory flash of his fangs. ”You're going to permit this puppy to bark at you?”
”What I do is my affair, Oliver.” Amelie let a long, long moment pa.s.s before she said, ”Very well, Claire, you have my word that we will retrieve Shane and his father before they are executed. What else?”
Claire hadn't really been prepared to win that argument. She blinked, searched for another demand, and came up with nothing in particular.
Then she did. ”I . . . want you to promise me that when this is over, you're going to change things in Morganville.”
Amelie looked, for a moment, perplexed. ”Change things? What sort of things?”
”No more hunting humans,” she said. ”No more owning people. You'll make everybody equal around here.” ”You're speaking of things you don't understand. These things are required for us to survive in relative security. I won't put my people at further risk, nor leave them at the whims and mercies of yours. I've seen too many centuries of death and destruction.”
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