Dead Girls' Dance

Claire went around to the front seat, got in, and asked blankly, “Who’s driving?’”

Richard Morrell slid in behind the wheel. “Joe and Travis will stay here,’” he said. “I’ll bring you back for your car. Everybody, hold on.’”

As Richard backed the car out and then accelerated toward Founder’s Square, lights and sirens going, Monica managed to get her first coherent words out between coughs.

“Claire…bitch!’” Her voice sounded raw and hoarse. “You…think this…makes us…friends?’”

“God, no,’” Claire said. “But I think you kinda owe me.’”

Monica just glared.

“I’ll call it even if Shane walks away.’”

Monica coughed again. “You wish.’”

12

Founder’s Square was insane. Richard had to stop the car almost a block away, just outside of a cordon of police cars with flashing lights. Claire got out and had another coughing fit, bad enough that Eve patted her nervously on the back and did the talking for her to the grim-faced uniformed policewoman standing guard at the barricade. “We need to see Mayor Morrell,’” she said.

“Mayor’s busy,’” the policewoman said. “You’ll have to wait.’”

“But—’”

Monica got out of the backseat, and the cop’s eyes widened. “Miss Morrell?’” Well, Claire admitted, the smoke-stained scarecrow with frizzed hair didn’t look much like the usual Monica. She secretly hoped somebody would take pictures. And put them on the Internet.

When Richard got out, as well, the policewoman gulped. “Jesus. Sorry, sir. Hang on, I’ll get someone here.’” The policewoman got on her radio and passed on information; while they waited, she passed out bottled water from her squad car. Claire took two bottles and ducked back into the patrol car’s backseat, where Michael was sitting, eyes shut tight. He stirred and looked at her when she called his name. He didn’t look good—paper pale, burned in places, and apparently sick, too. She handed him the water. “I don’t know if it’ll help, but…?’”

Michael nodded and gulped some down. Claire cracked her own bottle and swallowed, nearly moaning in ecstasy. Nothing had ever tasted so good in Claire’s entire life as that lukewarm, flat water washing away the smoke from her throat.

“I thought—’” Michael licked his lips and let his head flop back against the seat. “I thought I’d be stronger. I’ve seen other vampires in the daytime.’”

“Older ones,’” Claire said. “I think it must take time. Amelie can even walk around in the daylight, but she’s really old. You just have to be patient, Michael.’”

“Patient?’” He closed his eyes. “Claire. Today’s the first day I’ve been outside of my house for nearly a year, my best friend’s still under a death sentence, and you’re telling me to be patient?’”

It did sound stupid, when he put it that way. She drank her water silently, wiping sweat from her forehead and then grimacing at the sooty mess.

It’s going to be all right, she told herself. We’ll get Shane. We’ll all go home. It’ll be fine.

Which even now she knew wasn’t very likely, but she had to have something to hold on to.

It was only about a five-minute wait, and the mayor came himself, trailed by an anxious entourage and two uniformed paramedics, who swooped in on Monica and Richard, ignoring Claire and Eve. “Hey, we’re fine, thanks,’” Eve said sarcastically. “Flesh wounds. Look, we kept our part of the bargain. We want Shane. Right now.’”

The mayor, hugging his soot-stained daughter, barely even glanced their way. “You’re too late,’” he said.

Claire’s knees went out from under her. It came to her in a blinding rush—the fire, the smoke, the terror. Shane. Oh no, no, it couldn’t be….

The mayor must have realized what she was thinking, and what Eve was thinking, too, from the expressions on their faces, because he looked momentarily a

“Much,’” Eve muttered, and covered it with a fake cough. “Okay, then why are we too late?’”

“He’s already gone,’” the mayor said. “His father staged an attack just before dawn, when our attention was on the warehouse fire. Broke Shane and the other one out of the cages, killed five of my men. They were heading out of town, but we’ve got them cornered this time. It’ll all be over soon.’”

“But—Shane!’” Claire looked at him pleadingly. “We kept our part of the bargain—please, can’t you just let him go?’”

Mayor Morrell frowned at her. “Our agreement was that I’d let him go if you brought my daughter back. Well, he’s free. If he gets himself killed trying to save his no-good father, that’s no business of mine,’” the mayor said. He put his arm around Monica and Richard. “Come on, kids. You can tell me what happened.’”

“I’ll tell you what happened,’” Eve said angrily. “We saved both of their lives. You can thank us for that anytime, by the way.’”

From the glare he threw Eve, the mayor really didn’t find that fu

“Dad,’” Richard said. “She’s right. They did save our lives.’”

The mayor looked more than just a

“Just tell us where Shane is,’” Claire said. “Please. That’s all we want.’”

The two Morrell men exchanged long looks, and then Richard said, “You know the old hospital? The one on Grand Street?’”

Eve nodded. “Our Lady? I thought they tore that thing down.’”

“Scheduled for demolition at the end of the week,’” Richard said. “I’ll take you there.’”

Claire almost cried; she was so relieved. Not that the problem was solved—it wasn’t—but at least they had another step to take.

“Richard,’” the mayor said. “You don’t owe them anything.’”

“I do, though.’” Richard looked from Eve, to Claire. “And I won’t forget it.’”

Eve gri

There were vampires out in the daytime. Claire figured that was unusual, but she realized just how unusual when Richard Morrell, slowing the police car to a crawl, whistled. “Oliver’s called out the troops,’” he said. “Not good for your friend. Or his father.’”

The streets around the massive bulk of the old hospital were lined with cars…big cars, dark-tinted windows. Lots of police cars, too, but it was those other autos that looked…menacing.

As did the people standing in shadows, surrounding the building. Some wore heavy coats and hats, even in the oppressive heat. There had to be at least a hundred gathered, and a lot of them were vampires.

And right in the center, standing right at the edge of the border of sunlight and shadow, stood Oliver. He was wearing a long black leather coat, and a leather broad-brimmed hat, and his hands were cased in gloves.

“Oh, man. I don’t think you guys are going to do any good here,’” Richard said. Oliver’s head turned toward them, and he stepped out into the sunlight. The vampire approached, moving at a slow, leisurely pace. “Maybe I ought to take you on home.’”

In less time than it took to tell Richard no, Oliver had crossed the open space and jerked open the back door of the police cruiser. “Maybe you should join us instead,’” Oliver said, and bared his teeth in a smile. “Ah, Michael. Out of the house at last, I see. Felicitations on your birthday. I would suggest, for your own safety, that you stay strictly in the shadows this morning. Not that you’ll have the strength to do anything else.’”

And he grabbed Claire, who was sitting nearest the door, by the throat.