quite making it.
And I’ll bet that pisses him off, too.
Hess urged her across the threshold and followed her in. Oliver locked up, walked to the coffee bar, and, without being asked, began to put together three drinks—cocoa for Claire, strong black coffee for Detective Hess, and a pale tea for himself. His hands were steady and sure, the activity so normal that it lulled Claire into relaxing just a little as she sat down at a table. She ached all over with exhaustion and the tension she’d run through her body at Amelie’s.
“Miles to go before you sleep,’” Oliver said, as he stirred the cocoa. “Here. Steamed milk and spiced cocoa. Hot peppers. It does have an amazing effect.’”
He brought it to the table and handed it off to her, put Hess’s coffee down, and retrieved his own brewing teacup before sitting. All very normal-life casual.
“You’re here about the boy, I would suppose,’” Oliver said. He dunked his tea bag and watched the results critically. “I really must get a new supplier. This tea is pathetic. America just doesn’t understand tea at all.’”
“He’s not the boy. His name is Shane,’” Claire said. “And he’s not guilty. Even Amelie knows that.’”
“Does she?’” Oliver raised his gaze to fix it on hers. “How interesting, because I, in fact, don’t. Brandon was hideously and cruelly tortured, then murdered. He might have had his flaws—’”
“What, like molesting children?’”
“—but he was born into a different time, and some of his habits were difficult to change. He had his bright side, Claire, as do we all. And now that’s gone, along with any harm he might have done.’” Oliver wouldn’t let her look away. “Hundreds of years of memory and experience, poured out like water. Wasted. Do you think it’s so simple to forget such a thing for me? For any of us? When we look at Brandon’s body, we see ourselves at the mercy of humans. At your mercy, Claire.’” He glanced at Detective Hess. “Or yours, Joe. And you must admit, that’s a terrifying prospect.’”
“So you’ll just kill anyone who frightens you. Who could hurt you.’”
“Well…yes.’” Oliver took the tea bag out of his cup and set it aside on the saucer, then sipped. “A habit we learned from you, really. Humans are all too ready to slaughter the innocent with the guilty, and if you were older, Claire, you would know this. Joe, I’m sure, is not so naive.’”
Hess smiled thinly and sipped coffee. “Don’t talk to me. I’m just the driver.’”
“Ah,’” Oliver said. “How generous of you.’” They exchanged some kind of a look that Claire didn’t know how to interpret. Was that anger? Amusement? A willingness to get up and beat the crap out of each other at a moment’s notice? She couldn’t even figure out what Shane and Michael were thinking, and she knew them. “Is she then aware of the price of your services?’”
“He’s trying to get you rattled, Claire. There’s no price.’”
“How interesting. And what a departure.’” Oliver dismissed Hess and got back to Claire, who hastily took a sip of her cocoa. Ohhhhhh…it just kind of exploded in her mouth, rich cocoa, warm milk, and a spicy edge that she didn’t expect. Wow. She blinked and took another sip, carefully. “I see you like the cocoa.’”
“Um…yeah. Yes, sir.’” Because somehow, when Oliver was being civilized, she felt compelled to still call him sir. Mom and Dad had a lot to answer for, she decided. She couldn’t even be rude to evil vampires who’d caged her boyfriend and were preparing to roast him alive. “What about Shane?’”
Oliver leaned back, and his eyelids drifted down to half-mast. “We’ve covered this subject, Claire. Quite thoroughly. I believe you might even have the bruises to remind you of my opinion.’”
“He didn’t do it.’”
“Let us deal in facts. Fact, the boy came back to Morganville with the clear intention of disrupting the peace, at the very least, and more likely killing vampires, which is an automatic death sentence. Fact, he concealed himself from us, along with his intentions. Fact, he communicated with his father and his father’s friends both before they came to Morganville and after. Fact, he was at the scene of the crime. Fact, he has offered little in his own defense. Need I go on?’”
“But—’”
“Claire.’” Oliver sounded sad and wounded. He leaned forward, braced his elbows on the table, and placed his chin on top of his folded hands. “You’re young. I understand that you have feelings for him, but don’t be a fool. He’ll drag you down with him. If you force me to it, I’m sure I could uncover evidence that you knew about the presence of Shane’s father in Morganville, and you had knowledge of their agenda. And that, my dear girl, would mean the end of your precious Protection, and put you in a cage alongside your boyfriend. Is that what you want?’”
Hess put a warning hand on her arm. “Enough, Oliver.’”
“Not nearly enough. If you came to bargain, I think you have nothing to offer me that I can’t get elsewhere,’” Oliver said. “So please take yourselves—’”
“I’ll sign whatever you want,’” Claire blurted. “You know, swear myself to you. Instead of Amelie. If you want. Just let Shane go.’”
She hadn’t been planning to do it, but when he’d mentioned bargain it had just taken on a life of its own inside her, and leaped right out of her mouth. Hess groaned and ran a hand over his hair, then covered his mouth, evidently to keep himself from telling her what an idiot she was.
Oliver continued to gaze at her with those steady, kind eyes.
“I see,’” he said. “It would be love, then. For love of this boy, you would tie yourself to me for the rest of your life. Give me the right to use you as I see fit. Do you have any idea what you’re offering? Because I would not offer you the conditional contracts that most in Morganville sign, Claire. No, for you, there would be the old ways. The hard ways. I would own you, body and soul. I would tell you when to marry and whom to marry, and own your children and all their issue. I was born in a time when this was custom, you see, and I am not in a charitable mood just now. Is this what you want?’”
“Don’t,’” Hess said sharply. He gripped Claire’s forearm and pulled her up to her feet. “We’re going, Oliver. Right now.’”
“She has the right to make her own choices, Detective.’”
“She’s a child! Oliver, she’s sixteen years old!’”
“She was old enough to conspire against me,’” he said. “Old enough to find the book that I spent half a hundred years pursuing. Old enough to cut off my one and only chance to save my people from Amelie’s intolerable iron grip. Do you think I care about her age?’” Oliver’s friendly courtesy was all gone, and what was left was like a man-sized snake, with a cruel light flickering behind his eyes, and fangs flicking down in warning. Claire let Hess pull her out from behind the table, toward the door. He’d drawn his gun.
“I may not let you leave,’” Oliver said. “You realize that?’”
Hess spun and raised the gun, pointed it straight at Oliver’s chest. “Silver bullets washed in holy water, with a cross cast right in.’” He clicked back the hammer. “You want to test the line, Oliver? Because it’s right here. You’re standing on it. I’ll take a lot of shit from you, but not this. Not that kind of contract, and not with a kid.’”
Oliver hadn’t even bothered to stand up.
“I take it you don’t want your coffee poured to go? A pity. Do watch your back, Detective. You and I will have a talk, one of these days. And Claire…come back anytime. If the hours run thin, and you want to make that deal, I will listen.’”
“Don’t even think about it,’” Hess said. “Claire, open the door.’” He held his gun trained on the vampire, un- blinking, while Claire unlocked the three dead bolts and swung it open. “Get in the car. Move.’” He backed out behind her as she ran to the car and dived inside. Hess banged the door to Common Grounds closed, hard enough to crack glass, and slid over the hood of the car in a move she’d only ever seen in action movies, and was in the car and starting it before she could take a breath.
They raced off into the night. Claire checked the backseat, suddenly terrified she’d turn around to see Oliver grinning at her, but it was empty.
Hess was sweating. He wiped at the drops with the back of his hand. “You don’t fool around when you get yourself in trouble, I’ll give you that,’” he said. “I’ve lived here all my life, and I’ve never seen anybody get that out of Oliver. Ever.’”
“Um…thanks?’”
“It wasn’t a compliment. Listen, under no circumstances do you ever go back to Common Grounds, get me? Avoid Oliver at all costs. And no matter what happens, don’t make that deal. Shane wouldn’t want it, and you’d live to regret it. You’d live a long time, and you’d hate every horrible second of it.’” Hess shook his head and took a deep
