Now she had Olivers full attention. He looked at her for a moment, then turned and walked away. She hurried after him to his office. Oliver closed the door behind her, leaned against it with his arms folded, and said, I thought you and Michael were going to shut down that cursed machine. Havent you done so?
No, weI She had no excuses, really. Not yet. I was going to try this morning, but I really need help. Michaels . . . Michaels not it. What about Amelie?
Oliver took in a deep breath that, as a vampire, he didnt really need except for talking, and then let it out. Amelie is . . . struggling to understand, but shes having a difficult time accepting the world as it is when part of her is insisting on seeing the world as it was. She let me go. Im not sure how long that will last. He shook his head, as if pushing all that away. Tell me what you think the machine is actually doing.
Instead of wiping memories of people leaving town, its broadcasting a wider field, and its affecting people in town. I think its wiping out at least three years of memories. Maybe more for some people; I dont know.
And how do you come by this startling calculation?
Hannah says she was in Afghanistan yesterday, Claire said. Michael talks about his mom and dad as if they were still living in the house. Amelie acts like Sam Glass is still alive, but missing. Monica thinks she still has a shot at dating Shane. And Myrnin . . . Myrnin isnt at all like the Myrnin I know.
No, he wouldnt be, Oliver said, thoughtful. When I came to town he was already far gone. He would have been completely unpredictable three years ago. Amelie doesnt remember Sams death, you said. She certainly doesnt remember my arrival, either. Its a complete puzzle to her as to how I came to enter Morganville without her knowledge. I guarantee that shes well on the way to blaming me for this entire disaster.
Why you? Why not Myrnin?
When I came to town, Amelie and I . . . we had a great deal of history behind us, none of it good. It took us work to reach the understanding we have. If she doesnt remember that, it will be war all over again.
Its worse than that. Michael walked out into the sun, she said flatly. He doesnt remember hes a vampire.
Olivers eyes widened just a bit, and then he said, deliberately neutral, I hope that the sun convinced him otherwise. And I trust you called for help.
Hes on his way to the hospital. I came to get Eve, but I think shes gone to her parents house. She wont remember me, either.
If Michaels been injured, they wont take him to the hospital; theyll take him straight to the blood bank. Hell be all right, as long as he wasnt in the sun for long. Some blood, a little rest, hell heal fine. The bigger issue is that if he refuses to believe in his current condition, hell lose control and feed recklessly. Probably on one of his friends, because youre all too thick to take proper care.
I know, Claire said, and leaned wearily against Olivers desk, which was loaded with papers, unopened mail, pens, paper clips . . . messy. That made her feel better about him, somehow. We need to stop this, but Myrnin put a password on the computer. I cant shut it down by myself.
Pull the plug, he said. Funny. Oliver and Shane thought alike, and just about at the same speed. Claire didnt imagine either one of them would like that comparison, though.
I cant do it with Myrnin trying to snack on me. Im kind of tired of just about getting killed for now. If you go with me and keep him off of me
Oliver, at least, had a sense of urgency. He grabbed his long leather coat, hat, and gloves, and dressed for the sun. Then lets go, he said. The sooner, the better. I cant guarantee how long Amelie will allow me to operate freely.
But EveI was going to get her. Let her know about Michael.
Well go by the Rosser house on the way, if you insist, he said. But if shes not there, we go on. No arguments.
That was fine with Claire. She was too tired to argue. As she tried to pick up her fallen backpack, she winced. Oliver grabbed her wrist and looked at her hand. Youre burned, he said. He sounded surprised, and continued. You tried to pull him out of the sun. With your bare hands.
I had to try, she said. Hes my friend.
Oliver gazed at her for a few seconds, then shook his head and let go. Just dont let it slow us down.
TWELVE
Eve was right: limos felt a whole lot like hearses, when you got right down to it.
Oliver drove fast, which was alarming, because Claire of course couldnt see a thing through the extremely dark windows. She concentrated on air bags and seat belts and all the nice safety features that car manufacturers built in these days. Vamps couldnt opt out of air bags, could they? Well, at least there were seat belts. That was something.
Why not you? Oliver asked.
What?
He glanced over at her. Why not you, or me? What keeps us from being affected by this miasma?
Whats a miasma?
A fog, he said. An influence.
I dont know, Claire said. To be honest, I dont know if were immune, or if it just takes longer for some people, or if its just completely random. But it could be that because we werent here three years ago, it doesnt affect us.
Hannah Moses wasnt here, either.
Yeah, but shes from here. Maybe theres a connection. Were both
Outsiders, Oliver finished. Interesting. Im not certain how that would work.
It might not, for much longer, Claire said. It hit Myrnin sooner than Amelie. It hit some people right off the bat, and others days later. I dont think its following any kind of pattern. Maybe were going to get it after all.
Are you armed? Oliver asked her.
She glanced down at her backpack and instantly, instinctively held back. No.
Lie to me again and Ill put you out on the street and do this myself.
Claire swallowed. Uh, yeah.
With what?
Silver-coated stakes, wooden stakes, a crossbow, about ten bolts . . . oh, and a squirt gun with some silver-nitrate solution.
He smiled grimly at the dark windshield. What, no grenade launchers?
Would they work?
I choose not to comment. Very well, I will take your crossbow. Try to use nonlethal methods, if you please; theres been enough disaster in this town recently. Also, I assume youre still fond of Myrnin, in some way. He said that as if he had no clue why that might be the case. Well, she could understand that, from his point of view.
I wont kill him, she said. But Ill hurt him if he tries to hurt me.
An excellent strategy, except that if you hurt him, he will kill you, most likely. So leave Myrnin to me. You do your job, and this will soon be over. . . . His voice faded as he made a turn, and Claire saw something happen in his face, which was an eerie blue-white in the cars dashboard lights. She just wasnt sure what it was. Get down, Claire.
What
He didnt tell her again, just reached over, grabbed her head, and pulled her sideways on the seat, then pushed her down into the wheel well.
The windshield rattled, and all of a sudden there were holes in it, sunlight streaming in. No, that hadnt been the windshield rattling. Something had hit the car.
Bullets had hit the car.
Oliver swerved the limousine and accelerated, but there was more noise, and this time Claire realized it was gunfire. The entire windshield fell out, and Oliver made a choked sound as he got a faceful of blazing sun.
But he kept driving, until they hit something with a crash. Above her, Claire saw a flash of white as she was thrown forward against the carpet.
Great, the air bags had deployed, and she was in the wheel well. But at least she hadnt had far to go, and in fact, she didnt think she was hurt at all, though there was some glass that had fallen on her.
Oliver was fighting to get free of his seat belt and the deflated air bag, but he didnt make it. Someone yanked open his door, and Claire guessed they cut the seat belt, or broke it, because they dragged him out of the limo. He was struggling, but their attackers must have been vamps, because he wasnt getting away.
They dont know Im here, Claire realized, and stayed where she was, curled into a very small ball in the shadows under the dash. Her backpack had slid off the seat and was next to her. She carefully unzipped it and pulled out the small, folding crossbow, cranked it open, and got out the bolts. She did it very carefully, hoping the noise of the fighting outside would cover up any sound of what she was doing. It must have, because nobody reached into the car to grab her.
She heard Oliver being dragged off, and finally risked slithering out of her hiding place to peek over the dashboard, out the sharp-edged hole where the windshield had once been.
There were vampires out, all in their heavy coats and hats and gloves. Some carried umbrellas, which was surprisingly practical of them. A whole group of them, maybe twenty in total, were standing in the shade of a building.
Amelie had an umbrella, but she didnt carry it herself. She had a minion for that. Her umbrella, like all the others, was black, but the silk suit she was wearing was icy white, with hints of blue. The color of dead lips, Claire thought, and wished she hadnt. Amelie looked dangerous, even though she was just standing there, hands folded, watching as Oliver was dragged over and dumped at her feet.
I knew it was you, she said. She sounded viciously angry. Claire could just barely hear her, but she certainly didnt want to try to get any closer. . . . think you wouldnt be suspected? Such an obvious . . .
The wind kept blowing, and it made it harder for Claire to hear what was going on. Oliver said something, and it must have not made Amelie happy, because she snapped her fingers and a couple of other vampires grabbed his arms and raised him to his knees. Claire couldnt help but think how wildly all this had reversed. First Amelie had been at his mercy; then hed been at hers; and now she had him once again.
That wouldnt make Oliver happy. Not at all.
Dont spin your tales with me, Amelie said. I dont believe we were ever . . . More wind, and Claire lost the words. . . . coming here. You were invited, once. You refused. Now you think you can just come here and scheme to take over
Oliver laughed. It had a raw, desperate sound to it. Whatever he said then, Amelie drew back a step, and then she shook her head. Useless, she said. Take him to the cells. Ill decide how to deal with him later.
There were way too many for Claire to even think about staging any kind of rescue. Oliver was clearly hurt, and she didnt think hed appreciate any Rambo-style heroics, anyway.
But shed just lost her chance to stop all this. Without Oliver, she had almost no chance of getting past Myrnin.
Unless Myrnin was more himself this time.
The vamps melted into the shadows, taking Oliver with them, leaving Claire and the shot-up limo where it sat, in the middle of the road. She sat back and dialed her cell phone, but the lab number kept ringing, and ringing, and ringing. Just as she was about to hang up, there was a click, and Myrnins voice said, Hello?
Myrnin, its Claire. Claire Danvers.
Silence.
Myrnin, do you know who I am?
More silence, and then Myrnin said, very softly, My head aches.
Myrnin, do you know who I am?
Claire, he said. Yes, Claire. I know you. Of course I know you.
A feeling of hot relief made her just about melt into the seat cushions. Oh, thank God. Shed caught him at a sane moment. Myrnin, you have to do something for me. Its really important, okay? I need you to go down to the machine in the basement of the lab. Do that now, okay? Right now.
My head aches so. Do I have to?
Im really sorry, but this is going to help. Please. Just go now.
She heard noises that she assumed meant he was unlocking the trapdoor, jumping down, walking through to the cavern, and then he said, All right, Im here. Claire? Could you come here to help me? I really dont feel at all well.
In a minute, she promised. Right now, I need you to go to the keyboard and enter the password you put on the system so we can turn it off. Can you do that?
Password, Myrnin said. I dont think . . . I cant remember any passwords with this headache. Could you come help me?
I cant until you do this. Just concentrate. Remember the password, okay? Put it in and then I can come help you.
Oh, all right . . . I think maybeyes, I think thats it. Im turning it off now. She heard sounds of clicking, of what sounded like switches being thrown, and then Myrnin said, All right. Its safe. You can come back now, Claire.
There was something strange about his voice. It wasnt right. Myrnin? Did you turn it off?
Of course. I did just as you asked. Now come.
That really wasnt right, and Claire felt a shiver working its way up her spine. Myrnin, are any of the lights still on? Are you sure you turned it off
Come here right now! Myrnin roared, and she was so shocked she dropped her phone and scrambled away from it in panic, as if it had grown teeth. Come here, little Claire. Juicy, sweet little Claire who thinks she can fool me into destroying Morganville. Come and get your reward!
Claire folded up the phone and ended the call. She sat clutching the crossbow, feeling cold even in the sunlight.
Shed never felt so alone, never. Not even when shed first come to Morganville.
She couldnt stop this. She was helpless. Completely helpless.
She put her head on the deflated air bag and cried.
Eventually, crying wore off, but the feeling of overwhelming failure didnt. She kept the crossbow ready, just in case. She thought shed go to Eve, find her . . . but then she realized that although Oliver had known where they were going, she had no idea where Eves house might be. The only thing she could think to do was . . . go back to the Glass House. It seemed like a long, scary walk. There were lots of people roaming around, mostly confused, angry, or terrified. She tried to avoid them, but sometimes they confronted her and wanted to know where their wives, husbands, sons, daughters, moms, dads were. Or what had happened to their houses. Or their cars. Or their jobs.
She could have sworn someone was following her.
She finally just started running, running as if her life depended on it, and there was such a surge of pathetic hope when she saw the Glass House up ahead that she felt sick. She unlocked the door and slammed it behind her and slid down against it, holding her head in her hands.
Itll happen to me, too, she thought. Maybe in an hour. Maybe tomorrow. But Ill forget, too. And when I do, nobody will be able to stop this.
She felt a rush of warmth around her, almost of comfort. It was the house, trying to respond to her misery. She wiped her eyes and sniffled and said, That doesnt help. Nothing helps.
But somehow, it did help a little, even though she knew it was as useless as a hug during an earthquake. She sucked in a deep breath and got up to go upstairs. No Michael, of course. Not yet. And no sign of Eve, so she probably was at her parents house, after all. Her door was open, and her clothes were all thrown around. It was impossible to tell whether that was panic or just natural behavior with Eve.
Claires room was neat and just the way shed left it. She got into bed and pulled the covers up, keeping the crossbow with her, and curled onto her side. She still had her phone with her, and she paged through the contacts list, feeling miserable and alone. Finally, she tried to call Eves cell. She didnt know why, but maybe Eve had snapped out of it. Maybe she
What?
That sounded like the Eve she knew. Claire slowly sat up in bed, clutching the phone like a lifeline. Eve? Oh, thank God. Eve, where are you?
Home, duh. Whos this?
Her heart sank. C-Claire.
From school?
Uh . . . yeah. From school. She only lied because she felt so bad, and she needed to just hear a friendly voice. Even if that person didnt know who she really was. In math.
Oh, yeah, you sit at the back, I remember.
Claire cleared her throat, because her voice sounded thick and teary. What are you doing?
There is some weird shit going down in Weirdsville, let me tell you. I came home and my mom wont talk to me, which is actually nice for a change, but my room is gone. I mean, its here, but its full of junk. I had to move stuff to get to my bed! Its like they didnt care if I ever came back. Eve sounded manic, and nervous. Its weird, I mean, my stuff . . . I think she trashed everything. I cant find my clothes. I think my parents are trying to make me leave. Which, fab, Ill go, you know? I hate it here. Dont you?
Claire sniffled and wiped her nose. Yeah, she said faintly. I do. Where would you go?
I dont know. Away, you know? Away from all this crap. Someplace sunny, if you get me.
What about Michael?
Michael? Glass? Eve laughed, but it sounded edgy and strange. Like he knows I live at all. I mean, hes hella cute, but hes not ever going to notice me.
I think he will, Claire said. I mean, I think he thinks youre cute.
Really? Eves voice sharpened and got suspicious. You think Im really going to fall for that? Am I supposed to go up and fall all over Mr. Perfect Glass and get humiliated? Is that what this is about? Who are you, one of Bitch Queen Monicas posse? Because if you are
Im not! I promise!
But Eves paranoia switch was well and truly tripped now. Yeah, well, nice talking to you. Have a great life.
And she hung up.
Claire clutched the phone to her chest, hard, and tried not to scream out her frustration. When the phone rang, she thought it would be Eve calling back, maybe to give her more attitude. Yeah? she said miserably.
Claire? Shane. Claire, are you okay?
She almost started crying again. Im home; Im at the Glass House. Where are you?
On my way there now, he said. Stay put. Its not safe out here.
I know. She sat up and hugged her pillow. Oliver wasnt affected; he was going to help me get to Myrnin.
Claire, I told you not to
It doesnt matter. We got ambushed on the way. Amelie hauled him off. I think she thinks he came to kill her. She doesnt remember him living here, or that he was her . . . friend. Friend didnt sound right, especially given what had gone on between them. I dont know what happened to him.
Well, sorry to say this, but if she kills him, boo-hoo, and Ill get counseling. Look, just stay there. Ill be home in about ten minutes. Im bringing food.
What about Michael?
Shane was silent for a long few seconds, so long Claire checked the screen to see if shed lost the connection. I couldnt get him to remember, he finally said. It was safer to leave him with the vamps. He nearly took my throat out, and he kept screaming he wasnt . . . you know. It was bad.
Its all bad, Claire said. And its all my fault. I cant stop it, Shane. I cant do anything to stop it.
Hey, hey, stop that. Were going to figure this out, okay? Well find a way. But first, we eat, we get some rest, and then we save the world. Right?
Just hurry, she said. Nothing bad can happen when Im with you.
Wow. Im not sure if I feel shiny or scared.
Scared is useful right now.
Good point. Im coming, okay? Im running.
She was smiling, though faintly, as she hung up. She stayed in bed, crossbow at her side, until she heard the front door downstairs open and close, and Shanes voice called her name. Then she got up and took the crossbow and phone downstairs to meet him.
He looked a little worried about the crossbow as he set a grease-stained bag on the dining table in the corner. Expecting somebody else? he asked. Because I hope thats not for me.
She put it down, ran to him, and kissed him frantically. He held her close and kissed her back, warm and sweet and soft, and just the fact that he was here with her made things so, so, so much better.
She finally broke free of the kiss and put her head on his chest. Thank you, she said. Thank you for remembering.
Yeah, no problem, he said. He sounded amused. You may not thank me for the burgers and fries, though. I dont think Dans Drive-In is doing its best work today.
Anything, she said. As long as youre here.
Claire. He pushed her away a little, and tilted her chin up. He looked tired, and worried, and she thought he was, deep down, just as freaked-out as she was. Dont forget me, okay?
I wont, she promised. I dont think I ever could. Not even . . . not even if . . .
He hugged her, and they really didnt need to finish that conversation at all. It was all . . . better.
Eventually, he said, The burgers are getting cold, and Claire let go and went into the kitchen to retrieve the all-important drinks to go with dinner. And yeah, the burgers were kind of gross and the fries were a little cold, but she savored every bite. It tasted like normal life, and she needed every bit of that she could get. They cleaned up afterward, and Shane decided that hed better wash the dishes, because it was Eves turn and she wasnt going to remember anyway, even if by some miracle she found her way back here. And that felt good, too.
It felt like being in control, at least of the kitchen.
Claire called her mom, who talked about the tests they were running on her dad, and how they planned surgery to fix the valve in his heart, and how he was doing so well, really, all things considered. Claire said very little, because she was afraid shed just start crying hysterically if she did. Mom didnt seem to notice; her focus was on Dad, of course. And that was okay.
The last thing her mother said to her was, I love you so much, honey. Be safe. And call me tomorrow.
I will, Claire whispered. Love you, too, Mom.
She hung up before her voice could tremble, and saw Shane watching her with a kind of warm understanding in his face.
That was hard, huh? he asked, and put an arm around her. Your dads okay?
Doing better than they expected, Claire said, and took in a deep breath. Unlike us, I guess.
Hey, dont count us out yet.
I dont, Claire said. But its bad, Shane. I feel like were really alone this time. Just the two of us.
He hugged her closer. And thats not all terrible. Tomorrow were going to get this handled, all right? Youre too shaky right now, and going out in the dark isnt a fabulous plan. Well fight monsters in the morning.
The Morganville TV station was showing reruns of shows from three years ago. Shane put in a movie, and they talked some about . . . well, nothing, really, and kissed and stayed together until finally there was nothing to do but go to bed.
Shane walked her to her bedroom door, and before he could say anything, she said, Stay, okay? I want you with me. He just nodded, and she saw relief on his face. Hed been going to ask, anyway.
They got undressedmostlyin silence, and slipped under the blankets to hold each other. Claire was too worried and scared to want to do anything else, and she thought he felt the same, really; it was more holding on for comfort right now. And that was good. That was really good.
I dont know what Im going to do tomorrow, Claire said finally, into the dark. Shanes arms tightened around her, pulling her closer against his chest.
Tomorrow, were going to find out who can still fight, and get down there and pin Myrnin down and fix this, he said. I swear. Were going to make this work.
The two of us.
Yeah, the two of us, and whoevers left whos not bug-eyed crazy. He kissed the back of her neck, very gently. Its going to be okay. Sleep.
And she did, warm in his embrace, and dreamed of silver rain.
THIRTEEN
Claire woke with the sun in her eyes, again, and for a precious, sweet second she just savored the warmth of it on her body, and the fact that Shane was still curled up against her back, one heavy arm around her waist. Then, regretfully, she turned over to face him. Hey, she said. Wake up, sleepyhead; we overslept.
Shane mumbled something and tried to put a pillow over his head. She pulled it off. Come on; get up; weve got things to do!
Go way, Lyss, he moaned, and opened his eyes, blinked, and finally focused on her.
And then he completely, totally freaked out.
He actually flailed around, got caught in the covers, and, when he tried to get free, fell out of bed onto the floor. Claire laughed and leaned over the side, looking down at him. Hey, are you . . . okay . . . ?
The words died in her mouth, because he was still freaking. He writhed around in the covers, grabbed a blanket, and wrapped it around his body as he climbed to his bare feet, backing away from the bed.
And her.
He held out the hand that wasnt holding up the blanket, palm out. Okay, he said. Okay, think, Collins, thinkyeah, okay, this is awkward, and Im really sorry, because Im sure youre reallyOh, man. What the hell did I do? Was there drinking? There must have been drinking.
Shane? Claire still had a sheet, and now she pulled it over herself, suddenly cold and feeling very exposed. Shane
He was still backing away, looking panicked and deeply uncomfortable. So, weve obviously been formally introduced at some point in my insane drinking binge. Uh, hi. Look, youve got to keep it down, okay? My parents will kill me if He stopped and looked around the room. Oh, shit. This is not my room, is it? This is yours. As in, I never went home, all night. My dad is going to He squeezed his eyes shut. Pants. I need pants. Where are my pants?
Claire felt like her heart was breaking. Really, truly shattering into sharp, jagged, bloody pieces. She wanted to scream, and cry, and most of all, she wanted this not to be happening. She couldnt bring herself to say anything, and he ignored her totally to look around. He found his pants and T-shirt, and awkwardly put on his pants under the cover of the blanket before dropping it. Before he got his shirt on, he turned back to look at her, and it hurt, it hurt so badly to have him see her like that and not know her at all.
Her utter, horrified misery must have shown in her face, because his expression softened a little bit. He took a couple of steps toward the bed and said, Um, lookI know. . . . Im sorry; Im probably a complete douche bag for doing this to you, and I promise, this isnt . . . I dont really get drunk off my ass and hook up like this, and you seem . . . you dont seem like the type. I mean, youre pretty; I dont mean youre notIm sorry; I suck at this. But I have to get home, right now. He pulled his shirt on and looked for shoes, which he slipped on without socks or even bending over to tie them. Look, Ill call you, okay? Uh . . . your name is . . .
Claire, she whispered, and tears broke free and started streaming down her face. My name is Claire. This is my fault.
Hey, dont do that, dontIm sorry. Its not your fault. You seemhe bent over and awkwardly kissed her, and it felt like he was a strangernice. I promise Ill talk to you later. Well figure this out. Oh, Jesus, did I have a . . . Did we take precautions or . . . He shook his head. Not now. I cant think about this right now. I have to go. Later.
Wait! she wailed, as he opened her bedroom door and ran out down the hall. Shane, wait! He didnt. She grabbed up her jeans and shirt from the floor, threw them on, stepped into her shoes, and ran after him. Shane, please dont
He was standing in the living room, staring around, and when she came clattering breathlessly down the steps, he turned to look at her again. This time he didnt seem as confused. But he didnt seem to be back to himself, either. This is Michaels house, he said. What are we doing here?
ShaneShane, please listen to me; we live here! With Michael! And Eve!
Keep your voice down! He made frantic shushing motions at her, and lowered his voice even more. Okay, you seemed nice, and now you seem a little bit whacked. We dont live here. Maybe you live heremaybe youre some cousin or something; I dont knowbut I live with my parents and my sister. Not here.
No! No, your parents Oh, God. What was she going to say? What could she say? Her mind went completely blank. He waited, then held up both hands and backed away.