Morganville - 10 - Bite Club (36 page)

Claire swallowed. "It's locked."

Myrnin walked over and slammed his booted foot into the cage door. The hinges bent and cracked. His second kick sent it flying off the hinges to crash down five feet away, with a sound like tin cans dropping off a roof.

"Out," he said, and stepped aside as Claire grabbed Shane and the two of them jumped over Bishop's convulsing body.

Outside, Claire turned to look. Myrnin went back to Bishop and aimed at the center of the downed vampire's chest.

Bishop bared his bloody teeth. He was disintegrating, pieces of him melting off in a horrible mess. The pain must have been extreme.

"You don't have the courage," he spat, and then coughed up rivers of too-pale blood.

"You never have, shadow hugger. Get the little girl to do your work for you. She's braver than you ever were."

Myrnin raised his eyebrows and stared down at him, then flipped the shotgun up and rested it against his shoulder. "Oh, I think that's probably true," he said. "And I think I'd like to tell Amelie you went slowly and in pain. Die on your own, you evil old animal."

It took a long, agonizing minute. Bishop never screamed. He left behind a skeleton that slowly collapsed into ash in the middle of the cage.

Myrnin sagged and leaned against the bars, head down. Claire came back up the steps and reached through to touch his shoulder. "Why didn't you?" she asked.

For answer, Myrnin aimed the gun at Bishop's disintegrating bones and fired both barrels.

Nothing happened. Just a dry, empty click.

"I realized that I never loaded the pellets into the cartridges," he said. "Those should have been round, silver buckshot."

"But you knew that first thing would work."

"Actually," Myrnin said in a low, confidential voice, "I thought I'd forgotten to load those shells, too. See how it all worked out?"

There was a massive banging on the outer doors, sending the people running around into a freak-out panic. Myrnin sighed, pushed away from the bars, and followed Claire down the stairs. She grabbed hold of Shane's unbroken hand and held tight, and the three of them found Eve and Michael, still sitting next to Glory's badly burned body. Only her golden hair was left, and even that was flecked with ash and slowly crisping.

"Follow me," Myrnin said. "And do stay together. And by the way, this is the last time I go anywhere with you people. You are all insane."

He picked up an iron bar and slammed it into the wall about half a dozen times in the space of seconds, and the bricks flew out in a haze of dust and splinters.

Claire and Shane stepped through the hole together, and froze as guns turned toward them. A whole lot of cops were yelling for them to freeze, and they did, putting up their hands and leaning up against the wall to be searched and handcuffed.

Claire looked back. Amelie and Oliver were in the next row, behind the cops, along with ranks and ranks of vampires. Amelie was staring straight ahead with a blank, empty expression; Oliver, on the other hand, was smiling. He was giving orders, sending one set of vamps that way, one up top, one around the side...the general deploying his troops, while the queen waited in icy isolation for victory.

Myrnin stepped out of the hole in the wall, glared balefully at the police, and waved to Amelie with demented excitement. "Hello! Your dear father is unfortunately very dead," he called. "And you said my dispersal system would never work!"

Amelie blinked and focused on him. "What did you say?" she called.

"Dead," he said, clearly and distinctly. "Your esteemed forebear is no more. He is dust and angel tears, though I shouldn't think any of us will be mourning him for long. You may see for yourself, but I will swear to you that it is, indeed, your unlamented Mr. Bishop. Now could you please ask these idiots to stop pointing their bullets at me? It's terribly wasteful."

Claire tried to keep from laughing, but it turned into a choking cough, and then Shane started laughing, too, and suddenly it was all right.

Amelie swept past them, making for the hole they'd come out of; Oliver hurried to dart in front of her, holding what looked like an actual old-fashioned broadsword.

Claire supposed that in the world of vampire wars, a sword could be pretty useful, especially with a silver edge. Beheading always worked.

Michael and Eve came out after a few more seconds, and Eve looked around and saw Shane and Claire in their almost-arrested poses. She snorted. "Leave it to you two,"

she said. "What is it with you and cages, Shane?" It must have occurred to Eve a second later that maybe that might not have been cool to say at the moment. But Shane just shrugged.

"If Amelie wants to throw me back in jail, it's okay. I did sign on for the fighting. I did beat a couple of vamps pretty bad. And I could have hurt Michael."

Michael leaned against the wall next to him, arms folded. He was wearing the stupid hat -- now at least fifty percent stupider, thanks to being crushed by running feet -- and the ratty trench coat, but under the shade, his smile was full-on smug. "Sorry. What did you say? You could have hurt me?"

"Dude, I was kicking your ass." It occurred to Shane, Claire guessed, that maybe he shouldn't have been quite so proud of it. "Which is why I'm sorry."

"I wasn't even trying, Shane."

"Yeah, I know. But..." Shane fell silent.

Now Michael stopped smiling and looked at him for a long few seconds. He nodded and stepped away.

"We'll talk about it later," he said. "And, yeah, you will be sorry. You know that."

"Oh, I know," Shane said. "You have no idea how sorry I already am."

But Claire did. She saw the look in his eyes and the shine of tears.

And the shame.

She hugged him and whispered, "We'll get through this. We will."

He took in a deep, shaking breath, and relaxed against her.

SIXTEEN

I
n the end, the score was seventeen vampires captured; Vassily was one of them, which surprised Claire, until she heard that Frank had locked down his funds transfers, and Vassily had spent way too much time trying to get his money. He'd always been about the profits. By the time he'd finally given up, it had been too late for him to avoid the roadblocks set up at the exits out of Morganville. He ended up on his knees in front of Amelie, while Oliver stood there with the sword in his hands.

Vassily begged and generally excused himself, but Amelie wasn't amused. At all.

Claire got to leave before any actual beheadings started. Later, she heard that of the seventeen, four were judged most guilty, including Vassily. Nobody said what had been done to them, but really, nobody had to. She just assumed.

Shane got a special hearing in front of Amelie and Oliver in closed session, with Mayor Richard Morrell as an official council member. Claire wasn't allowed in.

Neither was Myrnin, not that Myrnin would have bothered to show up, anyway.

Claire sat in the waiting room with Eve and Michael and Amelie's assistant, Bizzie O'Meara, waiting for some word.

The doors finally opened, and Amelie and Oliver came out and walked straight past them, ignoring the waiting trio. Richard followed, looking like he had a headache and the town had just run out of aspirin, but he didn't look angry or upset. That was good.

Shane followed him. He wasn't in handcuffs, at least, and when he spotted Claire, he said, "Don't look so worried. I'm on probation."

"What kind of probation?" She held out her hand, and he took it with his left; his right was still bandaged tightly, and it must have hurt, because he didn't move it much.

"The kind where you don't do anything stupid or bad things happen," Shane said.

"Everybody agrees that Glory screwed with my head. Not everybody agrees that it's all better now. So I have to prove that I'm not going to go pick fights with vampires anymore."

"Jeez, Shane. You've done that since you were twelve," Eve said. "That's going to be a tough habit to break."

"You know what I mean." Shane's dark eyes met Claire's for a second. "They're right about it. I still feel...you know, angry. Uncomfortable. I guess it'll take some time."

Michael stood up. "You're okay with me?"

"As okay as I ever am. I wish you weren't...what you are. But you're always my bro." He took a deep, unsteady breath. "Gloriana couldn't have made me do what I did, you know. Not without it being part of me, all twisted up with who I am, how I was raised, what my dad was like. I've always hated vampires. Blamed them. It's hard for me to look at you and not think about all that. I'm trying. That's all I can do."

Michael held out his hand, his left, and Shane took it, then hugged him.

"That's all you can do," Michael agreed. "You're my brother."

"Some brother."

"Brothers fight." Michael shrugged and let go. "Just remember, I could have taken you if I'd wanted to."

"Dream on, fang boy. Dream on."

While they were talking -- if taunting was a conversation -- Claire spotted Amelie loitering in the hallway, speaking with Oliver in low tones. She headed that way.

"Ma'am?" she said. "Could I ask you something?"

"I trust it's not a favor. I am not feeling very generous just now." Amelie looked tired and peeved and -- like Richard -- in need of a very big aspirin. "Well? Declare it."

"I...got a call from a recruiter. At MIT."

"MIT," Amelie repeated. "What is this MIT?"

"Massachusetts Institute of Technology. It's...the fantastic school I wanted to attend.

They've accepted me. It's very important, and they...said they'd take me."

Amelie's eyebrows rose ever so slightly. "When?"

"At the beginning of next year."

Silence. Claire held her tongue, waiting; Amelie was thinking, but she was also testing her. Wanting her to babble nervously. Well, she wasn't going to. She wasn't going to show any weakness. Instead, she mimicked Amelie's stillness, her direct stare.

Amelie smiled. It happened slowly, almost imperceptibly, but it definitely happened.

She nodded slightly and said, "And the question is, do you want to go to this MIT?"

"It's what I've wanted my whole life," Claire said. "It's always been my dream."

Amelie didn't fail to notice the past tense in her verbs. "Wanted," she repeated.

"Been."

"I should go. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And if I don't go now, they won't take me; they've got way too many people, good people, trying to get in."

"So," Amelie said. "What do you think you should do?"

"Ask you for permission to leave Morganville," Claire said. "Permanently, maybe."

Amelie considered that for a few seconds. "And do you believe that you, of all people, need my permission to leave? You know Morganville's secrets. You can leave more easily than anyone, except possibly Myrnin. I'm quite sure you've identified many ways to slip away undetected."

She had, of course, and Amelie knew it; Claire didn't confirm or deny any of that.

She just waited.

Funny, she thought. A year ago, I would have been shaking. Now she didn't feel afraid at all. Amelie could kill her if she wanted. She'd always had that power. There was no point in fearing it.

Claire suddenly remembered Miranda facing Gina, knowing she was going to get hit, but also knowing that sometimes a little pain and blood was better than the alternative.

"I won't order you to do anything, Claire," Amelie said then. "It would be a useless exercise. You will do as you wish, and I will do as I must. Let's hope that our wishes don't conflict too badly. Shall we?"

She walked away. She didn't even ask the question.

What are you going to do?

But Claire already knew. She turned back to her friends, and Shane gravitated toward her without even consciously heading in her direction.

"Can we go home?" she asked.

"Seems like a decent plan," Shane said. "I'm on community service four nights a week. But not tonight. I guess she wanted to give me a break." He held up his right hand. "Already got one, though."

Eve groaned and kicked him. "You are so lucky I'm too tired to murder you right now. I am not putting up with your humor."

"I am," Claire said. She smiled. It felt like something had actually been lifted right off her shoulders. She was going to go home and make a call that was going to change her life, maybe forever. But not for the worse.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked her.

"I'm not going to MIT," she said, and kissed him. He was surprised, but he kissed her back sweetly, then warmly.

"Of course you are," he told her. "As soon as Amelie lets you, you're going. You promised me you would."

She looked up at him and her euphoria faded a little. She had promised him that. But now the moment was here, and she didn't want it.

Her cell phone rang, shattering the moment, and Claire gritted her teeth and looked at the caller ID. Of course it was Myrnin, at exactly the wrong time.

She hit the button and said, "Hello, Myrnin." Shane took a step back and looked away. So that hadn't gone away, either, that feeling of jealousy. Of betrayal, even though she hadn't betrayed him at all. This was going to take time. Could she pick a worse time to run off to MIT? No. No, she couldn't do it -- that was final.

Myrnin sounded agitated. Not a real surprise. "They've forgotten my delivery again,"

he said. "I'm completely out of O positive. Stop in and get my cooler, please."

"Now? I'm on my way -- "

"Now, or I won't answer for my unpleasant behavior later." Myrnin hung up on her without waiting for a reply. Not that there was anything she could say other than Yes, of course I'll pick up your blood before you go eat someone .

"Side trip?" Shane asked.

"I can go on my own. You guys go home."

"Nope. I'm going with you," Shane said, and hesitated. "I ought to apologize to him, too. I mean, what I said -- "

"You didn't say it to him."

"Kind of still need to tell him I'm sorry. He did save our lives."

She wasn't happy with that; Myrnin didn't like Shane dropping in, and then there was the Frank problem. But Frank would have to be crazy to manifest himself with Shane there. Right?