“But . . . no word about the vampires?”
Richard was silent for a moment, and then he said, “No. Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
“We found some bodies, before dawn,” he said. “All vamps. All killed with silver or decapitation. Some of them—I knew some of them. Thing is, I don’t think they were killed by Bishop. From the looks of things, they were caught by a mob.”
Claire caught her breath. Eve covered her mouth. “Who—?”
“Bernard Temple, Sally Christien, Tien Ma, and Charles Effords.”
Eve lowered her hand to say, “Charles Effords? Like, Miranda’s Charles? Her Protector?”
“Yeah. From the state of the bodies, I’d guess he was the primary target. Nobody loves a pedophile.”
“Nobody except Miranda,” Eve said. “She’s going to be really scared now.”
“Yeah, about that . . .” Richard hesitated, then plunged forward. “Miranda’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Disappeared. We’ve been looking for her. Her parents reported her missing early last night. I’m hoping she wasn’t with Charles when the mob caught up to him. You see her, you call me, okay?”
Eve’s lips shaped the agreement, but no sound came out.
Richard checked his watch. “Got to go,” he said. “Usual drill: lock the doors, check IDs on anybody you’re not expecting who shows up. If you hear from any vampire, or hear anything
Eve swallowed hard, and nodded. “Can I see Michael?”
He paused, as if that hadn’t occurred to him, then shrugged. “Come on.”
“We’re all going,” Shane said.
It was an uncomfortable ride to City Hall, where the jail was located, mainly because although the police cruiser was large, it wasn’t big enough to have Richard, Monica, Eve, Shane, and Claire all sharing the ride. Monica had taken the front seat, sliding close to her brother, and Claire had squeezed in with her friends in the back.
They didn’t talk, not even when they cruised past burned-out, broken hulks of homes and stores. There weren’t any fires today, or any mobs that Claire spotted. It all seemed quiet.
Richard drove past a police barricade around City Hall and parked in the underground garage. “I’m taking Monica to my parents’,” he said. “You guys go on down to the cells. I’ll be there in a minute.”
It took a lot more than a minute for them to gain access to Michael; the vampires—all five of those the humans still had in custody—were housed in a special section, away from daylight and in reinforced cells. It reminded Claire, with an unpleasant lurch, of the vampires in the cells where Myrnin was usually locked up, for his own protection. Had anyone fed them? Had anyone even tried?
She didn’t know three of the vampires, but she knew the last two. “Sam!” she blurted, and rushed to the bars. Michael’s grandfather was lying on the bunk, one pale hand over his eyes, but he sat up when she called his name. Claire could definitely see the resemblance between Michael and Sam—the same basic bone structure, only Michael’s hair was a bright gold, and Sam’s was red.
“Get me out,” Sam said, and lunged for the door. He rattled the cage with unexpected violence. Claire fell back, openmouthed. “Open the door and get me out, Claire!
“Don’t listen to him,” Michael said. He was standing at the bars of his own cell, leaning against them, and he looked tired. “Hey, guys. Did you bring me a lockpick in a cupcake or something?”
“I had the cupcake, but I ate it. Hard times, man.” Shane extended his hand. Michael reached through the bars and took it, shook solemnly, and then Eve threw herself against the metal to try to hug him. It was awkward, but Claire saw the relief spread over Michael, no matter how odd it was with the bars between the two of them. He kissed Eve, and Claire had to look away from that, because it seemed like such a private kind of moment.
Sam rattled his cage again. “Claire, open the door! I need to get to Amelie!”
The policeman who’d escorted them down to the cells pushed off from the wall and said, “Calm down, Mr. Glass. You’re not going anywhere; you know that.” He shifted his attention to Shane and Claire. “He’s been like that since the beginning. We had to trank him twice; he was hurting himself trying to get out. He’s worse than all the others. They seem to have calmed down. Not him.”
No, Sam definitely hadn’t calmed down. As Claire watched, he tensed his muscles and tried to force the lock, but subsided in panting frustration and stumbled back to his bunk. “I have to go,” he muttered. “Please, I need to go. She needs me. Amelie—”
Claire looked at Michael, who didn’t seem to be nearly as distressed. “Um . . . sorry to ask, but . . . are you feeling like that? Like Sam?”
“No,” Michael said. His eyes were still closed. “For a while there was this . . . call, but it stopped about three hours ago.”
“Then why is Sam—”
“It’s not the call,” Michael said. “It’s Sam. It’s killing him, knowing she’s out there in trouble and he can’t help her.”
Sam put his head in his hands, the picture of misery. Claire exchanged a look with Shane. “Sam,” she said. “What’s happening? Do you know?”
“People are dying, that’s what’s happening,” he said. “Amelie’s in trouble. I need to go to her. I can’t just sit here!”
He threw himself at the bars again, kicking hard enough to make the metal ring like a bell.
“Well, that’s where you’re going to stay,” the policeman said, not exactly unsympathetically. “The way you’re acting, you’d go running out into the sunlight, and that wouldn’t do her or you a bit of good, now, would it?”
“I could have gone hours ago before sunrise,” Sam snapped.
“And now you have to wait for dark.”
That earned the policeman a full-out vicious snarl, and Sam’s eyes flared into bright crimson. Everybody stayed back, and when Sam subsided this time, it seemed to be for good. He withdrew to his bunk, lay down, and turned his back to them.
“Man,” Shane breathed softly. “He’s a little intense, huh?”
From what the policeman told them—and Richard, when he rejoined them—all the captured vampires had been at about the same level of violence, at first. Now it was just Sam, and as Michael said, it didn’t seem to be Amelie’s summons that was driving him. . . . It was fear for Amelie herself.
It was love.
“Step back, please,” the policeman said to Eve. She looked over her shoulder at him, then at Michael. He kissed her, and let go.
She did take a step back, but it was a tiny one. “So—are you okay? Really?”
“Sure. It’s not exactly the Ritz, but it’s not bad. They’re not keeping us here to hurt us, I know that.” Michael stretched out a finger and touched her lips. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Better be,” Eve said. She mock-bit at his finger. “I could totally date somebody else, you know.”
“And I could rent out your room.”
“And I could put your game console on eBay.”
“Hey,” Shane protested. “Now you’re just being mean.”
“See what I mean? You need to come home, or it’s total chaos. Dogs and cats, living together.” Eve’s voice dropped, but not quite to a whisper. “And I miss you. I miss seeing you. I miss you all the time.”
“I miss you, too,” Michael murmured, then blinked and looked at Claire and Shane. “I mean, I miss all of you.”
“Sure you do,” Shane agreed. “But not in that way, I hope.”
“Shut up, dude. Don’t make me come out there.”
Shane turned to the policeman. “See? He’s fine.”
“I was more worried about you guys,” Michael confessed. “Everything okay at the house?”
“I have to burn a blouse Monica borrowed,” Claire said. “Otherwise, we’re good.”
They tried to talk a while longer, but somehow, Sam’s silent, rigid back turned toward them made conversation seem more desperate than fun. He was really hurting, and Claire didn’t know—short of letting him go for a jog in the noontime sun—how to make it any better. She didn’t know where Amelie was, and with the portals shut, she doubted she could even know where to start looking.
