Carpe Corpus

The other leader of the pack was Oliver, of course. Not so comforting.

“Milton Dyer,” Amelie said. “Please take your hand off of my friend Claire. Now.”

The man went about as pale as his white shirt, and looked down at Claire, and his hand wrapped around her arm. He let go as if she’d suddenly become electrified.

“Now go away,” Amelie said to him in that same calm, emotionless voice. “I don’t wish to see you again.”

“I . . . ” He wet his lips. “I’m still loyal to my Protector... ”

“Your Protector was Charles,” Amelie said. “Charles is dead. Oliver, do you have any interest in picking up Mr. Dyer’s contract?”

“I really don’t,” Oliver said. He sounded bored.

“Then that settles things. Leave my sight, Mr. Dyer. The next time you cross my path, I’ll finish you.” She said it without any particular sense of menace, but Claire didn’t doubt for an instant that she meant it. Neither did Mr. Dyer, who quickly retreated to his office. He didn’t even dare to slam the door. It closed with a soft, careful click.

Leaving Claire in the hallway with a bunch of vampires. Old ones, she thought—Amelie and Oliver were obviously old, but the others seemed to have come through their sunlight stroll without a mark, too. Ten of them in total. Most of them didn’t bother to put their hoods back and reveal their faces.

“You used the bracelet in a way that I did not teach you,” Amelie said. “Who showed you how to use it to summon me?”

“Why?”

“Don’t play games with me, Claire. Was it Myrnin?”

“No. It was Ada.”

Amelie’s gray eyes flickered, just a little, but it was enough to tell Claire that she had knowledge that Amelie wished she didn’t. “I see. We’ll talk of that later,” she said. “Why did you use the blood call? It’s intended to alert me only if you are seriously injured.”

“Well, someone is. Myrnin’s very sick. He’s downstairs. I need to get him some help. I came to find Dr. Mills, but—”

“Dr. Mills has been relocated,”Amelie said.“I thought it best, after Myrnin’s ill-advised visit here. I can’t tell you where he is. You understand why.”

Claire knew. And she felt sick and a little angry, too. “You think I might give him away. To Bishop. Well, I wouldn’t. Myrnin knew that.”

“Whatever Myrnin believes, I can’t take the risk. We are close to the endgame, Claire. I risk only what I must.”

“You’re not happy that Myrnin introduced me to Ada, are you?” Claire asked.

“Myrnin’s judgment has been . . . questionable of late. As you say, he is ill. Where can we find him?”

“Downstairs, by the portal,” Claire said. Amelie nodded a brisk dismissal and turned to go, along with all of her followers. “Wait! What do you want me to do?”

Amelie said nothing. Oliver, lingering behind for just a moment, said, “Stay out of our way. If you value your friends, keep them out of our way, too.”

Then they were gone, moving fast and silently through the basement doorway.

Claire stood in the empty hallway for a few deep breaths, hearing the sounds of lectures continuing on inside of classrooms, student voices raised in questions or answers.

Life went on.

So weird.

She started to go down to the basement, but a vampire she didn’t know blocked the entrance. “No,” he said flatly. “You don’t go with us.”

“But—”

“No.”

“Ha

“They will be taken care of. Leave.”

There wasn’t any room for negotiation. Claire finally got the hint, and turned away to walk out of the high school the old-fashioned way . . . into the sunlight, the way Amelie and her gang had come. She had no idea where they’d come from, or where they were going.

Amelie wanted it that way.

Claire sat down on the steps of the high school for a few long minutes, shivering in the cold wind, not much warmed by the bright sun in a cloudless sky. The street outside the school looked empty—a few cars making their way around Morganville, but not much else going on.

She heard the door behind her open, and Ha

“He’ll see you later,” Ha

“Bishop’s going to find out,” she said. “You know that, right? He’s going to find out what you’re doing.”

Ha

Mom and Dad were having an argument; Claire could hear it from where she and Ha

The shouty blur of voices broke off, and about ten seconds later, the door whipped open. Claire’s mom stood there, color burning high in her cheeks. She looked stricken when she caught sight of Claire, very obviously a guilty-looking earwitness to the fighting, but she rallied and gave a bright smile and gestured them both inside.

“Sheriff Ha

She offered her hand, and Claire’s mother took it for a quick shake as her eyes darted anxiously from Claire to Ha

“Ha

With only a single, worried look over her shoulder, her mother led the way down the long hallway and into the living room area. Same floor plan as the Glass House, but so wrenchingly different, especially now. Claire got mental whiplash from expecting to see the familiar battered couch and Michael’s guitar and the cheerful stacks of books against the wall; instead, her mother’s ruthlessly efficient housekeeping had made this room magazine-feature-ready, everything carefully aligned and straightened.

The only thing that wasn’t ready for the photo shoot was Claire’s father, who sat in one of the leather armchairs, face flushed. He had a stubborn set to his jaw, and an angry fire in his eyes that Claire hadn’t seen in, well, forever. Still, he got to his feet and shook hands with Ha

Ha

That was . . . blunt. Claire blinked. She expected a flood of questions from her parents, but she was surprised by the silence.

Claire’s parents looked at each other, and then her father nodded. “Good,” he said. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while. Claire, go with your mother and pack. I’ll be up in a second.”

“Um . . .” Claire cleared her throat and tried not to look as awkward as she felt. “I’m not going, Dad.”

They both looked at her as if she’d spoken in Chinese. “Of course you are,” her mom said. “You’re not staying here alone. Not with what we know about how dangerous it is.”

“I’m sorry, but you know just enough about Morganville to get yourselves in trouble,” Ha