Carpe Corpus

“Ada! Tell me where Bishop is!” Myrnin was out of patience, and she must have heard it in his voice. She shrugged.

“The university,” she said. “I expect he can hide there for some time without detection. Plenty of snacks, after all.”

If by snacks she meant students, then Claire supposed she was right. And the university was full of cavernous buildings, many of which were deserted at night. She was right. It was the perfect hiding place for Bishop, if he wanted to regain his strength and regroup.

They had to get him before that happened.

Myrnin was already on it. He stepped up to the portal Michael and the others had come through, tapped the surface, and listened. Claire heard it, too, faintly—a kind of ringing sound. A frequency. Of course. The portal worked on frequencies, like a radio—tune in to the right one, and you arrived at the correct destination. She’d been doing it without understanding consciously how, but now that she focused, she could hear the tone clearly.

“Here,” Myrnin said, and stepped through. Claire reached back for Shane’s hand, and walked into the unknown with him.

10

They came out in the Administration Building, in a deserted room that Claire remembered. Myrnin was already gone, but the door was still swinging on its hinges from where he’d headed through it. Claire made sure everybody was through, then took a second to look at the other three.

“You guys sure you want to do this?” she asked them. Michael looked more adult than she’d ever seen him —and more like Sam. He’d lost his grandfather, she realized—someone who wasn’t supposed to be lost, ever. And that had fired up something in him that made him different.

More like Sam than ever.

Eve was still unmistakably Eve. She twirled the stake in her fingers, lifted the crossbow in her right hand. “How often do I get to go vamp stalking?” she asked, and smiled. “Let’s do it.”

“Shane?”

He’d been uncharacteristically quiet. Now, he just nodded. “Watch yourself,” he said, and brushed the back of his hand gently across her cheek. “You scare me.”

She burst out laughing, shakily. “You’re insane.”

There was a short hallway outside of the room, deserted and dark; at the end of the hallway was a fire door, and one of the doors was still open a little. Myrnin had gone that way, Claire figured.

She set out after him.

As she stepped outside into the cool evening air, something grabbed her. Not Myrnin.

Bishop.

He looked bad—unsteady, but still stronger than a mere human. He fumbled at her clothes; for a second she thought, Oh my God, he’s going to rape me, and then his flailing hand brushed the book she’d shoved into her pocket. She’d forgotten about it.

Now, as he tried to pull it away from her, she fought back. Hard. Bishop was weaker than he’d ever been, and she was panicked. Bishop heard Shane calling her name, and pulled her farther into the darkness—then he headed for a nearby building, and dragged her up as he climbed. They ended up on the flat roof of the maintenance shed.

“Over there!” she heard Michael shout, and then he was heading toward them in a blur, with Shane and Eve in hot pursuit.

Bishop had his fingers on the book. No! She couldn’t let it happen. Claire didn’t fully understand what was in those pages, but she’d seen how he could use it. She felt it, in that tattoo.

She wasn’t going to take the chance there was more he could do with it.

Bishop screamed something at her, and his fangs came down. Claire planted both feet in his chest and heaved with all her strength.

Bishop tumbled away from her, skidding on the loose roof gravel. Claire flipped over and scrambled to her feet, running for the edge. She had no idea what she’d do when she got there. Fly, maybe. Or take the fall, no matter how hard it was.

She didn’t have to. Michael swooped in, grabbed her by the waist, and jumped with her. He landed lightly on the ground, let her slide down him, and looked up.

Bishop was leaning over, breathing hard. His fangs and crazy eyes caught the moonlight.

“Oh, crap,” Eve said. “He’s still not exactly Mr. Fluffy.”

Shane summed it up. “Run!”

They did. Shane took Claire’s hand; she had the shortest legs, but the most motivation, and she kept up with them as they raced out into the open green soccer field in front of the Admin Building.

Bishop landed on the grass behind them and began to chase them.

“He’s going to catch us!” Eve yelled. “Head for the library!”

The TPU library was a big, columned building catty-corner to the Administration Building. It had its lights on, and there were still students coming and going up the steps, oblivious to what was coming their way. “Get out of here!” Claire shouted, and ran full speed to the top of the stairs. Shane was just ahead of her, Eve somewhere behind.

Michael had stopped at the foot of the steps, and was turning to face Bishop. When Claire hesitated, Eve grabbed her by the collar of her T-shirt and yanked her forward. “Don’t stop!” she said, panting. “Damn, I need more exercise. Head into the stacks. Don’t stop for anything, Claire!”

As they blew through the metal detectors, sirens went off. Students popped out of study carrels and up from tables like prairie dogs, then yelped and scattered as they realized something bad was heading their way, leaving a trail of notebooks and open computers. As they flashed past rows of library books, Shane skidded to a halt, grabbed two volumes with black covers, and tossed one to Eve. She nodded and shoved it in the waistband of her pants.

There was a crash somewhere behind them, and the glass doors blew into a million jagged pieces that flew across the marble floor. Students scrambled for cover. Somebody yelled to call the campus cops; somebody smarter yelled to shut up and hide.

Michael hit the marble floor and rolled, leaving trails of blood. He landed on his hands and knees, facing Claire, Shane, and Eve, who’d paused halfway down the stacks. “Go!” he told them, and got to his feet as Bishop stepped inside. He didn’t seem as unsteady now.

The poison was wearing off, way too fast.

Shane pushed Claire into a run. Eve stumbled after them, looking over her shoulder to see if Michael was going to follow.

He didn’t.

The aisle ended in a brick wall, with windows way up high, but there was an exit sign pointing to the left. The three of them turned the corner and headed for it, dodging past students wearing headphones, oblivious to the trouble in the stacks.

Shane hit the fire door first, setting off another alarm, and they raced down another flight of concrete steps.

This side of the library faced the big fountain—only the fountain was gone, and had been for a couple of months. What was in its place, at the center of six converging sidewalks, was the big concrete rim of what had been the pool, and in the center, a bronze statue of Mr. Bishop, holding a book in his hand.

There was one of those eternal flames burning in front of his statue—the light of knowledge, or something stupid like that. Claire had been revolted by the statue when it went up.

Now, she had an idea.

“Split up!” she yelled. “Make sure he sees that you have the books!”

Shane and Eve peeled off, heading right and left.