Fade Out

“All I did was hold the bat.”

“You held it like you meant it.” He put his arm around her and picked up both bats, slinging them over his left shoulder. “Let’s get home.”

When they got home, after getting the third degree from Michael, then Eve, they had to answer to the Founder. Not by choice; Claire was all for making a quick phone call to the police and letting it go through channels, but Michael thought Amelie might want to ask more questions.

He must have been right, because as soon as he hung up the phone, a wave of sensation swept through the house—like a gust of wind, only psychic. Claire actually felt the locks she’d put on the portals snap, and the connection open.

Amelie was coming in person.

Michael realized it, too—he and Claire seemed to be more connected to the house than Shane and Eve, generally. “That was fast,” he said. “I guess we’d better go up.”

“Up where?” Shane asked, frowning.

“Amelie,” Claire sighed. “I was hoping for a hot bath, too.”

The four of them, in the spirit of solidarity, trudged upstairs to the hidden room. The Tiffany lamps—minus that one pole lamp casualty—were blazing, filling the walls with color and light, but somehow none of it fell on Amelie, who looked pale as bone and just as hard. She was wearing pure, cold white, and her lips seemed almost blue. Her eyes looked more silver than gray, but maybe that was because of the metallic shine of her shirt under the tailored jacket.

Claire wondered why she bothered with the meticulous dressing, when Amelie rarely seemed to leave her home these days; she supposed that growing up as royalty in the distant past had made looking perfect a habit she couldn’t seem to shake.

Amelie received the news of the gangs beating up on her vampires without much shock, Claire thought; she sat there looking cool and calm, hands folded, and listened to Shane and Claire’s experience without any flicker of expression. There was something in her face when Claire described the handful of pulled vampire fangs that she’d seen, but what it was, Claire couldn’t guess. Disgust, maybe, or pain. “Is that all?” Amelie asked. She sounded way too distant. “What of Morley? Did you see where he went?”

“We don’t know,” Claire said. “He looked—hurt. A lot hurt, maybe.”

“I was afraid of this,” Amelie said, and got up to pace the floor.

“Afraid of what?” Michael asked. He was leaning against the wall with his arms folded, looking very serious. “Losing control?”

Amelie stopped to frown at the broken pole lamp, trailing pale fingers over the neat slice through the metal. “Afraid that humans might lose their fear of reprisals if I offered too much leniency,” she said. “The rules of Morganville existed for a reason. They were meant to protect the strong few from the fragile many. Even a giant may be destroyed by the stings of insects, if there are enough of them.”

“That’s not what your rules did,” Shane said. “They just made it easier for vampires to kill us without letting humans hit them back.”

Amelie sent him a cool glance, but didn’t otherwise react. “I’ve received reports of other incidents, less serious than this. It seems these gangs of thugs are growing bolder, and that must be stopped.”

“They said something about Morley killing a kid,” Shane said. “Anything to that?”

“I doubt it.” Amelie met his eyes for a few seconds, then continued to pace. “I’ve had no reports of children being victimized. As you know, that is strictly against all our laws, human or vampire. I can’t say it never happens, but it happens in human society, as well. Yes?”

“Maybe, but why did they take it out on Morley?” She shrugged. “Morley is an easy target, like all the vampires who choose not to declare an allegiance. They are powerful in themselves, but vulnerable. Morley’s lived rough and alone for some time. It’s not surprising that humans are taking vengeance on those easiest to hunt. In other towns, they target the homeless, as well, do they not?”

“Aren’t you going to do anything about it?” Claire asked.

“There are laws. I assume they will be enforced. Until these thugs are caught and punished, I will caution all vampires to be careful.” Amelie smiled slowly. “And I will allow them latitude in matters of self-defense, of course. That should put a stop to things quickly.”

Claire wasn’t so sure of that. First, Morley and his vamps had gotten all pushy with Amelie, and then Oliver had seemed about to bolt from her camp and set up as a pretender to the throne. Now, there were humans roaming around looking for trouble, too. And Amelie just seemed . . . disconnected.

It seemed that, as much as they’d tried to pull Morganville together, it was unraveling all around them.

“I believe I have heard enough,” Amelie said. “You may go. All of you.”

She kept on pacing, as if she didn’t intend to leave. Claire hung back, watching her, as the others descended the stairs, and finally said, “Are you okay?”

Amelie stopped, but didn’t look at her. “Of course,” she said. “I am—troubled, but otherwise fine. Why do you ask?”

Because you tried to kill yourself two nights ago? Claire didn’t think it would be smart to bring that up. “Just—if you need anything . . .”

Amelie did look at her this time, and there was something warm and almost human in her expression. “Thank you.” Amelie’s personal winter closed in again, leaving her face still and cold. “There’s nothing you can do, Claire. Nothing any of you can do. Now go.”

That last thing wasn’t a request, and Claire took it for dismissal. Shane was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking up with a worried not-quite-frown that smoothed away in relief when he saw her coming to join him. “Don’t do that,” he said.

“Do what?”

“There’s something off about her right now. Don’t you see that? Don’t try to help. Just walk away.”

Claire tapped the gold bracelet on her wrist. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

He pulled her out of the stairwell and shut the hidden door. Michael and Eve were already going downstairs, hand in hand. “It’s getting late,” he said. “You going or staying?”

“Does it have to be one or the other? Maybe I stay for an hour, then go?”

“Works for me,” he said, and took her hand. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

The surprise was that he’d cleaned his room. Not just randomly picked up a few things, but really cleaned it—everything put away, bed made, everything. Unless . . . “What did you trade with Eve?”

He looked wounded and way too innocent. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on. You totally traded with Eve to clean your room for you.”

He sighed. “She needed some cash for something, so yeah. But it’s good, right? You’re impressed I thought of it?”

Claire suppressed a laugh. “Yes, I’m impressed that a boy thought about spending money on a clean room.”

“Worth it, as long as you’re impressed.” He flopped on the bed, leaving space for her, and she curled up next to him in the circle of his arm. Her head rested on his chest, and she listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart.

I wonder if Eve misses that, Claire suddenly wondered. I wonder if she forgets, and then . . .

“Hey,” Shane said, and tickled her. She squirmed. “No thinking. This is the no-thinking zone.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Guess I’ll have to distract you, then.”

She was going to say, Yes, please, but he was already kissing her, and his big hands slid around her waist, and all she could think was yes as her blood surged faster, hotter, and stronger.

It was more like two hours before she could even stand to think about going home. The temptation to stay here, curled in Shane’s arms forever, was almost overwhelming, but she knew she had to keep her promises.

Shane knew it, too, and as he gently combed the hair back from her face with his fingers, he sighed and