Michael quickly stepped out, buttoning his shirt. “You’re awake.’”
“Yeah.’” Claire suppressed a burst of pure fury. “If you’re done screwing around, maybe we can talk about Shane dying tonight.’”
Michael dipped his chin a little, staring her straight in the eyes. “You do not want to go there, Claire,’” he said flatly. “You really don’t. You think I don’t know? I don’t care? Fuck. What do you think Eve’s been doing all day while you—’”
“Slept? Yeah, I fell asleep! You could have woken me up!’”
He came forward a step. She backed up a step, then another, because his eyes…not Michael’s usual expression. Not at all.
“So you could sit and rip your guts out, too?’” he asked softly. “Enough of that going around, Claire. You needed to sleep. I let you sleep. Get over it.’”
“So what’s the brilliant plan you guys came up with while I was napping, then? What is it, Michael? What the hell do we do now?’”
“I don’t know,’” he said, and whatever tight control he’d been hanging on to ripped loose at the roots. “I don’t know!’” It was a yell, and it came right out of his guts. Claire backed up another step, feeling an icy flush race over her skin. “What the hell do you want me to do, Claire? What?’”
Her eyes filled up with tears. “Anything,’” she whispered. “God, please. Anything.’”
He grabbed her and hugged her. She sagged against him, trembling, not quite crying but…not quite not, either. It was a hopeless sort of feeling, as if they were loose and drifting and there was no land in sight.
Like they were lost. All lost.
Claire sniffled and stepped back, and when she did, she saw Eve standing in the doorway, watching them. Whatever Eve was thinking, it wasn’t good, and it wasn’t anything that Claire ever wanted to see again.
“Eve—’”
“Whatever,’” Eve said flatly. “There’s still one vampire who might help us. If we can find him and get him to agree. He could get into Founder’s Square without any problem. He might even be willing to open up Shane’s cage if we create some kind of diversion.’”
Michael turned toward her. “Eve.’” He didn’t sound guilty, at least. He sounded worried, though. “No. We talked about this.’”
“Michael, it’s the last thing we can do. I know that. But we need to go for it now, if we’re going to do it at all.’”
“What vampire?’” Claire asked.
“His name is Sam,’” Michael said, “and this is going to sound weird, but he’s my grandfather.’”
“Sam? He’s your—your—’”
“Grandfather. Yeah. I know. Freaks me the hell out, too. It has all my life.’”
Claire had to sit down. Fast.
When she recovered her breath, she told Eve and Michael about running into Sam at Common Grounds. About the present Sam had tried to give her for Eve. “I didn’t take it,’” she said. “I didn’t know—well, it just didn’t seem— right.’”
“Damn straight,’” Michael said.
Eve wasn’t looking at him. “Sam’s okay,’” she said.
“I thought you hated vampires.’”
“I do! But…I guess if there’s a most-hated-vampire list, he’s at the bottom. He always seems so lonely,’” Eve said. “He came into Common Grounds pretty much every night and just talked for hours. Just talked. Oliver always watched him like a hawk, but he never did anything, never threatened anybody—not like Brandon. In fact, I sometimes wondered—’”
“Wondered what?’”
“If Sam was there keeping an eye on Brandon. Maybe on Oliver, although I didn’t know that at the time. Looking out for…’”
“For the rest of us?’” Michael nodded slowly. “I don’t know how true it is, because I always avoided him, but family talk always said Sam was a good guy, before he was changed. And he is the youngest of all of them. The most like…well, like us.’”
Eve had gone over to the dark window, and was looking out, hands behind her back. “You know anything else about him? Family secrets, I mean?’”
“Just that supposedly he took on the vampires and won.’”
“Won? He’s one of them! How exactly is that winning?’”
Michael shook his head, moved up behind her, and put his hands on her shoulders. He kissed the nape of her neck gently. “I don’t know, Eve. I’m just telling you what I heard. He got some kind of agreement out of the vampires. And it was because Amelie loved him.’”
“Yeah, loved him enough to kill him and turn him into a bloodsucking fiend,’” Eve said grimly. “How sweet. Romance isn’t dead. Oh, wait. It is.’”
She pulled free of Michael and walked into the kitchen. Michael looked at Claire mutely. She shrugged.
When they got downstairs, they found that Eve was making bologna and cheese sandwiches. Claire wolfed down one in about six bites, then took a second sandwich. The other two looked at her. “What?’” she asked. “I’m starved. Honest.’”
“Be my guest,’” Michael said. “I hate bologna. Besides, not like I can starve.’”
Eve snorted. “I made you roast beef, genius.’” She handed him one. “So go on. This is the first I’ve heard from you about the History of Sam. What made him so special to be the last vampire ever?’”
“I don’t really know,’” Michael said. “The only thing Mom ever told me was what I just told you. The point is, Sam’s never really fit in with the vampires. Amelie doesn’t like to be reminded of weakness, and he was a constant neon sign. She really cared about him. So she cut him off—last I heard, she wouldn’t see him or talk to him. He hangs around humans a lot more than other vampires.’”
“And that’s why I said he could help us,’” Eve said. “Or at least, he’d be willing to listen. Bonus if he’s family.’”
“So where do we find him?’” Claire looked from Michael to Eve, then back again. “At Common Grounds?’”
“Off-limits to you,’” Eve said. “Hess told me what happened with you and Oliver.’”
“Something happened?’” Michael mumbled around his roast beef. “Why don’t I know this? God, I needed this. Tastes great.’”
Eve rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sandwiches take great skill. I’m thinking of teaching a class. Meanwhile, back on the subject, Claire is not going anywhere near Common Grounds. I said so. If anybody’s going, it’s me.’”
“No,’” Michael said. Eve glared at him.
“We had this talk,’” she said. “You may be dead sexy, and I mean, like, really dead and really sexy, but you don’t get to tell me what to do. Right? And no headshrinker stuff, either, or I swear to God, I’ll pack my shit and move!’”
Claire scraped her chair back, walked over to the cordless phone lying on the counter, and dialed from the business card still stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet. Four rings, and a cheerful voice answered on the other end and announced she’d reached Common Grounds. “Hi,’” Claire said. “Can I talk to Sam, please?’”
“Sam? Hold on.’” The phone clattered, and Claire could hear the buzz of activity in the background—milk being steamed, people chatting, the usual excitement of a busy coffee shop. She waited, jittering one leg impatiently, until the voice came back on the line. “Sorry,’” it said. “He’s not here tonight. I think he went to the party.’”
“The party?’”
“You know, the zombie frat party? Epsilon Epsilon Kappa? The Dead Girls’ Dance?’”
“Thanks,’” Claire said. She hung up and turned to face Michael and Eve, who were staring at her in outright surprise. She held up the phone. “The power of technology. Embrace it.’”
“You found him.’”
“Without going into Common Grounds,’” Claire pointed out. “He’s at a party on campus. The big frat thing. The one—’” She paused, felt a chill, then a rush of heat. “The one I was invited to. It was kind of a date. I was supposed to meet this boy there. Ian Jameson.’”
