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Michael, straight-faced, said, “He’s got a point, because I would definitely take pictures. So would you.”
Eve had to grin. “Yeah, I would. Okay, then. But you’d look glam. I could fix you up with silver eye shadow to match.”
“Tell you what: you can be Glammera the vampire hunter. I’ll stick with being manly and heavily armed.”
Michael snorted and picked up some wooden—i.e., mostly nonlethal—stakes, which he stuffed in his jacket. “You guys ready?”
“Guess so.” Shane gave his small crossbow another once-over, then put it in the carry bag. Eve had packed a (for her) huge purse full of stuff. The purse, of course, had a shiny yellow happy face on it—with fangs. Claire stuck with her unfashionable but useful backpack. She’d emptied out all of her books and left them stacked on the table. She had no idea when she’d actually get back to school, but it certainly wouldn’t be today.
Shane dropped the silver choker to the table, shuddered, and led the way out of the Glass House to the car. Michael locked up behind them, and Claire thought about how natural it was for them now to watch one another’s backs. There wasn’t even any discussion. Shane went first, keys to Eve’s hearse in hand; Eve had, of course, called shotgun, so she was heading straight for the passenger side. Claire was checking shadows and heading for the back of the long black coach, and Michael zipped down fast and joined her as she opened the back. He was the last one in, and smacked the roof to signal Shane as he and Claire sat down on the long bench seats in the back.
Eve had added some kind of color-changing strips along the inside of the roof. “What’s with the disco lights?” Michael said, rolling down the window between the driver’s compartment and the back.
Eve turned around, and her face brightened. “You like it? I thought it looked really cool. I saw it in a movie, you know, in a limo.”
“It’s cool,” Michael said, and smiled at her. She smiled back. “Can’t wait to lie here and watch it with you.”
Claire said, “You don’t have to wait; it’s working now. Look—Oh. Never mind.” She blushed, feeling stupid that she hadn’t gotten that one in the first second. Eve winked at her.
“Shouldn’t you be calling Amelie and getting us some kind of parking permit?” Eve asked. Claire nodded, glad to be off the hook, and made the call. It rang to voice mail, and Claire left her a message. She was just hanging up when she spotted a parked police car out of the window.
Ha
“Wait,” Claire said, and leaned over to grab Shane’s shoulder. “Stop. She can get us in; she’s got permission to go to Founder’s Square anytime she wants.”
Shane pulled in behind Ha
“Ha
Ha
“Oh, crap,” Claire said. “You’ve got it, too.”
“Name!” Ha
“Uh, okay, I’m Claire. Claire Danvers. You know me.”
Ha
“Ha
Ha
“Look at what you’re wearing,” Claire said. “Police uniform. Why would somebody kidnap you, bring you here, and change your clothes? What sense does that make?”
“It doesn’t,” Ha
“Call in where?”
“To my commanding officer.”
“Ha
Ha
“I just told you! Flashback!”
“This isn’t a combat flashback!”
“No, it’s . . .” Lying, Claire figured, was now the only way to go. “You’ve been drugged. You have to believe me. You live here, in Morganville. You’re the chief of police.”
Ha
But you did, Claire started to say, then held it back. She didn’t know why Ha
“I know this is hard,” Claire said. “But we need your help. Really. All you have to do is call in permission for us to go into Founder’s Square. Would you do that?”
“I don’t know you people,” Ha
Claire exchanged a mute second of stares with her friends, and Eve finally said, “Ah, yeah, they’ve seen it. I’ve been dressing like this for about three years; don’t you remember?”
“No,” Ha
Eve crouched down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I know,” she said. “But then you went to Afghanistan, and then you came back, and now you’re the head police chick. You have to remember that!”
“I don’t,” Ha
“Just . . . we need you to call in to the guard post at Founder’s Square and give us a pass to see Amelie,” Claire said. “Please. I’ve tried phoning. She’s not answering.” And Claire found that she was really, truly worried. Not that Amelie was a friend, exactly, but the idea of a Morganville without her was . . . unthinkable. She couldn’t get the image of Amelie lying limp on the floor in Oliver’s arms out of her head.
Ha
“We do now,” Claire said. “I do. We all do. You have to believe me—things around here are different now. Please, Ha
Ha
Claire got into the police car and found Ha