"And left Michael behind? And Eve? She wouldn't have left him. You know that."
He didn't answer. She knew that Shane wasn't someone who ran away, but he couldn't help thinking about it-Morganville's version of living a rich fantasy life. After a moment, he shrugged and said, "Too late now anyway. Where do you think we should start, if we're supposed to track down Goldman?"
"No use looking at the hospital. It's closed," Claire said. "They moved all the patients out in ambulances and buses. And there are way too many places he could be. It's not that big a town, but big enough to hide one vampire. He sent his family away, you know." Theo, unlike most vamps Claire knew, actually had a family, and cared about them; it was very like him to be sure they were clear of the trouble, then stay behind himself.
"Can't go close to the hospital anyway," Shane said. "The whole area's a no-go zone; the singing starts when you come anywhere close."
The singing of the draug was not just eerie; it was deeply dangerous. It got hold of you, made you forget ... and made you vulnerable to them. Claire nodded. "We'd better stay away from any water, too."
"Toilets? Please say you don't mean toilets, because this is rapidly turning into no fun at all. I mean, I like peeing on a wall as much as the next drunken redneck, but-"
"Chemical toilets," she said. "Amelie had them brought over from some construction company. And please tell me you don't pee on walls."
"Moi?" He put his hand over his heart and did his best wounded-innocent look. "You must be thinking of some other uncouth jackass. Which makes me jealous, by the way."
She would have played along with that, but the idea of the tap water made her suddenly realize that she was drinking the coffee in the cup in her hand, and she resisted a sudden violent urge to gag. "Uh, the coffee ...?"
"Made with the finest bottled water," Eve said. She was back, and she'd brought cookies this time. "And these are sliced off a roll, so don't think I've gone all Martha Stewart, Shane. The vamps stocked up on bottled water some time ago. I'm guessing it's their version of survivalist training, if they've been worried about the draug for so long. All those plastic containers may be bad for the environment, but they're really good for us right now. So ... you're looking for Theo?"
"So says Oliver," Shane said, and stuffed a whole cookie in his mouth.
"Trust me, I work for Mr. Scary Guy in Charge, and you do not want to disappoint the man, even if you're just pulling espresso shots. Especially not now. Besides, having Theo here would be a nice antidote to all this"-Eve gestured at the marble, carpet, dim lighting-"gloom. Theo's cheerful, at least."
He was, mostly. Although Claire thought that like all vampires she'd ever met-except Michael, and his grandfather Sam-Theo was essentially concerned about his own survival first. Once you accepted that was how vamps saw the world, it was a whole lot easier to understand what they would do, and why. Morganville, for instance. It was pragmatic, having this isolated town, which they controlled for their own safety. They were cruel sometimes, but they saw it as self-defense .... Let the humans get the upper hand, and the vampires feared they'd be killed, sooner or later. Claire didn't agree with it, but she understood it.
Theo was ... less pragmatic about that than most. Thankfully. And Eve was right. He would have a calming effect here, if he wasn't floating somewhere in a pool of water, being eaten alive.
Claire shuddered.
"Want to come with?" Shane asked, licking melted chocolate from his lips. Which was a little bit mesmerizing, actually. Claire had a dizzying impulse to help him with that, but she shook it off. Time and place, Claire, time and place ...
"She can't come with us," Claire said, as Eve opened her mouth to agree. "Come on, Eve, you lost about two pints of blood last night. You're not strong enough yet and you know it. You need rest."
Eve's mouth closed without making a comment, but she gave Claire a steady, cool look, as if she'd let her down by even mentioning what had happened. Although it was pretty clear that Eve, and Michael, were thinking a lot about it.
"Right," Shane said in the silence. "That was awkward. Eve, you stay and ... bake or something."
"The hell I will," she snapped back, way too tense. "If you don't want me with you, maybe I'll just grab a couple of Amelie's boys and take them shopping for more weapons. We need to arm up, and we need to do it fast. That okay with you, or should I change into my pearls and an apron and die like a good girl?"
Shane held up his hands in surrender and took a step back. "I-have nothing to say." Smart boy, Claire thought. "But if you go out, you take more than a couple of vampires with you, Eve. I mean it. Take Michael."
"Well, you know what they say: less is more," Eve said. She didn't even comment on the Michael issue, but there was a stubborn, wounded look to her, and she didn't meet Shane's eyes.
"Right now, more is more, and much more is much better. You can't dick around with these ... things. You know that, right?"
"Oh, I know," Eve said. Her dark eyes were filled with shadows, windows in a haunted house. "I was just thinking that it would be a good idea to start making weapons stockpiles around town. If we start a running fight, we need to be able to get to weapons when we need them."
That was ... a very good idea, Claire realized, and she nodded without speaking. Shane even looked respectfully impressed, which was an odd look for him; he wasn't impressed by much. "Get silver," he said. "If you can, knock over a jewelry store and get all the silver chains. We can break them up into pieces. Makes a good grenade." Silver hurt, or killed, both vampires and draug. Shane sounded practical about it, but then, he'd spent his high school years being dragged around with his vampire-hating father. He probably knew more about killing vampires than anyone else in town ... except the vampires themselves, of course. "It's about the only thing that does work on these bastards. Talk to Myrnin about making more shotgun shells, too."
Myrnin being Claire's vampire boss-if a relationship that crazy could be called employer-employee, anyway. She was Igor to his Frankenstein. He had an underground lab and everything, which she'd managed to make a whole lot less creepy during her tenure with him ... but not less chaotic. Myrnin was walking chaos, and a lot of the time that was fun.
Sometimes, not so much.
Eve rolled her eyes, now almost back to the old carefree girl Claire knew. "Yeah, Collins, I wouldn't have thought of Myrnin ever. Of course I'll talk to him. He's the only one who had his crap together before we went out the first time."
"Hey!"
"Present company excepted, supposedly."
"Better," Shane said, and surprised her by suddenly enfolding her in a fierce hug. "Stay safe, all right?"
"Safe." Eve agreed, and then held him at arm's length, studying him with thoughtful intensity. "Huh. You don't hug, you know. Unless you get hugged first."
"I don't?"
"Nope. Never ever."
Shane shrugged. "Guess everybody changes once in a while."
All of a sudden Claire was struck by how different they all were now. Eve had grown steadier, more thoughtful. Shane had taken his aggression in hand and was starting to understand it, channel it. Even open up a little more than he had.
Michael ... Michael's changes were more unsettling, less easy to appreciate, but he'd definitely changed. He was struggling not to change even more-not to drift further away from his lost human life.
As for Claire herself, she couldn't say. She couldn't tell, really .... She supposed she had more confidence, more courage, more insight, but it was hard to imagine herself from the outside like that. She just ... was. More or less, she was still Claire.
Eve waved good-bye, hugged Claire hard-that was a typical Eve gesture-and headed toward the room where they'd left their stuff. Michael was in there. Claire hoped they could work out their ... Problems didn't seem a strong enough word, and issues sounded too mundane. There wasn't really a word for what was going on between her best friends, other than complicated.
Claire grabbed coffee to go, wolfed down a couple of cookies-premixed or not, they were hot, melty, and delicious-and followed Shane down another hallway. It might be, she thought, the one Oliver had used, but this place was confusing. If there were signs, they were visible only to vampires. But Shane took a right down an identical hallway, then a left, and then they were in another round room, this one with a massive barred door at one spoke of the wheel. The door also had guards ... lots of them. Amelie's personal detail, Claire thought as she recognized some of them. They didn't look as spotlessly turned out as she was used to seeing. The dark tailored suits were gone, and so were the sunglasses. Instead, they wore clothing from the same archival stores that she and her friends had scavenged ... and she supposed that what they'd chosen at least indicated what period in history they were most comfortable with.