And like the police, they fanned out, but not to cordon off the crowd.
They were making for the stage, and Captain Obvious.
He saw them coming about the time that most others did. Vampires didn't need protection, even in a crowd like this; Morganville natives had it bred into them to back up, get away, and that was exactly what they did. Cries of alarm went up, and little islands of space formed around the vamps as they pushed forward.
Captain Obvious's helmet turned toward Flora, and she nodded. He backed up to the edge of the trailer, dropped off and out of sight, and one second later Claire heard the roar of a motorcycle. He came roaring out from concealment on the other side of the truck, spraying smoke as he fishtailed around. The crowd cleared for him, too, or at least for the snarling bike, and he leaned into the handlebars and hit the thrust hard. A lunging vampire tried to take him off the machine, but he ducked low and weaved expertly, and she went rol ing. When another tried it ten feet later, someone in the crowd-more daring than the rest-ran forward and knocked the vampire's hat off. The vampire turned with a roar of fury and slapped the broad-brimmed coverage back over his smoking head, but his second was lost, and Captain Obvious accelerated away, leaning into a sharp turn with his knee almost on the ground. It was someone with training, Claire thought, someone with a lot of skil .
The vampires largely gave up on him, though a few tried chasing him; the rest bolted forward, swarmed onto the stage, and two grabbed Flora Ramos. A third cleanly severed the microphone cord with a single pul , robbing her of her soapbox.
But when they tried to take her down from the platform, people surged forward, shouting. They'd lost their fear, allof a sudden. It made sense. Flora was a popular lady, a widow, who'd lost kids to the vampires. She was everybody's mom, allof a sudden, being dragged off into the dark- not in the middle of the night, but in public, in broad daylight, in a blatant show of vampire force.
Amelie and Oliver must have approved this. They must be watching, Claire thought with a sudden twinge. She turned and looked behind her, and saw a long blacked-out sedan idling at the corner. She walked that way. Walked right up to the car and rapped on the backseat window. It glided down to reveal the pale, sharp face of Oliver. He didn't speak. He just gazed at her with cool disinterest. Next to him, Amelie was looking straight ahead, a slight frown grooved between her brows. She looked flawless, as always, but Claire knew her well enough to think she was bothered by what she saw before her.
"Let Mrs. Ramos go," Claire told Oliver.
"She's preaching sedition and breaching the public peace," he said. "She's ours by law."
"Maybe. But if you take her off that stage, you lose. Not just now, but for a long time. People won't forget."
"I care not what they remember," he said. "The only way to stop a rebel ion is to crush it with blood and fire, and to wound them so they'l never dare to raise a hand again."
He sounded as if he almost liked it. Claire shuddered, and looked past him, to Amelie. "Please," she said. "This isn't right. Stop it. Let Flora go."
It took forever for the Founder to speak, but when she did, her voice was soft, even, and decisive. "Let the old woman go," she said. "It gains us nothing to make her a martyr. Our goal is to find this new Captain Obvious. He can't hide for long. Once we have him, we make an example of him and make it clear that this kind of disruption won't be tolerated. Yes?"
Oliver scowled and sent Claire a murderous glance. "My queen, I think you are listening too much to your pets. The girl's softhearted. She'l lead us allto ruin." He lifted Amelie's pearl white hand to his lips and kissed it, lips lingering on her skin, and she finally looked at him. "Let me guide you in this. You know I have the best interests of Morganville at heart. And you are Morganville."
The frown between Amelie's perfectly arched brows relaxed, smoothed, and she kept her gaze fully focused on him. "I fear your way wil bring us more trouble, Oliver."
"And this chit's way wil bring us death," he said. "Mark me, compromise is no answer. We would compromise ourselves into a pyre of ashes. Humans have no pity for us, and never have; they'd kil every one of us. Have you forgotten that one of them just yesterday tried to put a silver arrow in my heart?"
"And I pulled it out," Claire said. "Or you'd be dead now, you jerk. What exactly is a chit?"
It was a rhetorical question, but Amelie's gaze tugged away from Oliver's for a moment, and Claire got the ful force of the Founder's attention. "A disrespectfullyoung woman," she said. "Something I was cal ed more than once. Something every woman of quality is cal ed, sooner or later, by a man who feels they do not know their place. As we do not, because our place is as lofty as we may aspire to climb. It is the language of men who fear women." There was something weird about Amelie's eyes; they seemed darker than normal, and Claire couldn't figure it out until she realized that the pupils were inordinately large, as if she'd had some kind of dilating drops in them. Was she being drugged? "Which brings up a good point, Oliver. I believe you've cal ed me a chit, upon occasion. Yet suddenly you cal me your queen."
"You've ever been queen in my heart," he said, which made Claire want to gag. His voice was smoky, soothing, and way too seductive. "Can we not agree on this one thing, my liege? That the survival of what few vampires remain must take precedence over the legions of humans who roam this earth in their bil ions? If we trust to their good graces, we wil die."
"He is not wrong in that, Claire," Amelie said. "Mankind is not known for its charity toward those it fears. If we're not torn apart as demons, we'l be dissected in your laboratories, for science. Or worse, put on exhibition, no better than those ragged lions and exhausted bears in your zoos. Who wil protect us, if we don't protect ourselves?"
Claire wanted to say that she was wrong, that it wouldn't be like that, but she'd read enough history and knew enough about the grudges and fears that people held close to their hearts to realize that Amelie was probably right, in principle.
"Let her go," Claire said. "And people wil see you're not afraid to be part of this town and listen to them. Trust me. Please. I don't want this to explode, and neither do you, but it wil . You make Mrs. Ramos disappear, and it'l never stop exploding. Vampires wil take out humans, humans will take out vampires, and sooner or later, we're alldead or you're discovered."
"I cannot let her go. Not an option." But Amelie seemed to consider things, and suddenly she pulled her hand free of Oliver's hold, opened the other side of the limousine, and stepped out into the sun.
Unlike the other vampires, she didn't bother to try to cover herself; she was old enough that the sun wouldn't do more than give her a painful but mild burn. The sight of her in ful daylight was startling. She wore a white silk suit, expertly tailored, and her short stature was concealed with tal white pumps. Her pale gold hair, wrapped in a coronet around her head, was almost the same shade. The only color on her was a bloodred ruby necklace and a matching ring, and as she walked off toward the mob, she looked every inch a queen.
Oliver slammed his door open, grabbed Claire by the arm, and shoved her back against a brick wal . "Stupid girl," he said, and ran after Amelie.
She didn't seem to be moving fast-drifting, almost-but he had trouble catching her.
She reached the crowd before him, and it parted in front of her like smoke before a strong wind. The vampires paused on stage, suddenly aware of her presence, and silence swept over the chaos to the point that Claire imagined she could almost hear the click of Amelie's heels as she moved up the portable stairs to the stage.
Oliver scrambled behind her, impassive in expression, but she could see the anger and frustration in his body language. He was too late to stop whatever she intended to do.
"Release the woman," Amelie said to the two vamps holding Flora. They let go, immediately, and stepped away with their heads bowed. Amelie advanced to stand in front of her. "Are you injured?"
Flora shook her head no.
"Then you may leave this place, if you wish. Or you may stay here, on this stage, and accept the very difficult and thankless job of mayor, a position to which I believe you are uniquely suited."
Whatever Flora was expecting, it wasn't that. Neither were her supporters. A confused babble started up, and Claire jogged back over so she could hear more clearly over the confusion. The microphones were dead, so only the first few rows were likely to hear what was going on.