Ghost Town

Weak, sure. But it was so good to feel completely awake again.

Oh, and she also felt completely filthy. She needed a shower, a change of clothes, and about another week in bed, she decided. But since none of that was going to happen right at the moment, she splashed water on her face, finger-combed her hair, and went out to try the door.

It was unlocked.

The lab looked—well, exactly the same, except that there were more people there than usual. Myrnin, of course. Oliver had hung around, or come back; he was standing off to the side, arms folded, frowning with that “convince me” look on his long, sharp face. She recognized another vampire, too, although she didn’t know his name; he sometimes stopped in to visit Myrnin, and Myrnin had never introduced him.

On the other side of the worktable stood Amelie, immaculately dressed in a sky-blue suit and high heels. Her hair was up in the braided crown again.

Claire felt even grubbier.

They all stopped what they were doing as she came out of the door, and for a few seconds, no one spoke. Then Myrnin smiled widely and stepped aside, and she saw that the machine they’d built was glowing with a soft, blue light.

Her eyes widened. “It’s working?”

“It is indeed working,” Myrnin said. “Very good work, Claire. I’ve connected it to the interface. Look!” He turned a computer screen around toward her, and her artsy, steampunky interface showed in rust browns and golds. Claire came forward to look closer. All the readouts she’d built in were measuring within normal levels.

She reached out and touched the STATUS button. A crisp computerized voice said, “Morganville barriers are activated and within normal parameters.”

“But—wait. I didn’t program it yet,” Claire said. “The hardware is one thing, but you have to program it.”

“Oh, I did that,” Myrnin said, still smiling. “Technically, you accomplished the goal Amelie set you. I saw no reason to torment you further with some simple instructions.”

“But . . . it needs to be tuned to a specific vampire brain, and you told me that—”

“It has been,” he said. “It’s been tuned to mine. Just as a template, mind you. I’ll improve the programming as we go forward.”

Myrnin’s brain. Myrnin’s brilliant, fiery, half-insane brain. Claire blinked and looked at Amelie, who was doing her best chilly ice-princess impression.

“Myrnin is the logical choice,” Amelie said. “He has the greatest natural talent of any vampire in Morganville for influencing humans, although he rarely elects to use it. He won’t be directing the machine’s actions, only providing a type of baseline reading on which it will base its own calculations and decisions.”

Claire wasn’t sure how to feel about any of this. Myrnin wasn’t a programmer, and basing anything on Myrnin’s brain seemed hinky to her. Still, the computer seemed pretty definite. Everything was working. The barriers were up. All the readouts were normal.

She was . . . finished?

It should have felt like a victory, but it felt instead like she’d missed something. Like something wasn’t right, but she didn’t know what it could be.

It was the voice, the computer voice.

It reminded her of . . . Ada. And that was extra creepy. It occurred to her that maybe Myrnin had done that deliberately to bring her back to him just a little bit.

It might have seemed romantic, if Ada hadn’t done her level best to destroy them.

Amelie loosened up enough to smile at her, which was nearly a first. She looked a lot younger when she smiled, and even prettier. “You did very well,” she said. “I know that I asked much of you, and I know that you may not forgive me for offering such a difficult choice, but I had the town to consider, and there were pressures you cannot imagine that forced us to take these drastic steps. I had every confidence you would succeed.”

Claire felt awkward and a little flushed. She still resented being forced into this; she really hated the casual way Amelie had threatened her friends and family. And she didn’t, at this moment, much care about being nice, so she said, “Don’t ever do that again. Don’t ever threaten the people I love.”

The other vampires—even Myrnin—looked uncomfortable, shocked, or outright angry (Oliver). Not Amelie, though. Her eyebrows rose. “The people you love are constantly at risk, as are all people everywhere. Even mine. You should come to terms with that fact, Claire. I am only one thing that threatens their safety. As they occasionally threaten mine. It is the way of all life.”

Claire balled up her fists, but she wasn’t like Shane. She couldn’t lash out. She just had to breathe through the surges of anger that made red flashes across her eyes until it stopped.

Amelie must have known she wasn’t going to get thanked; she nodded to the others, turned, and left. She hadn’t been alone, Claire realized. Her two usual bodyguards were with her, standing just off in the shadows, and they followed her up the steps and out of the lab.

That left Myrnin, Oliver, and the other vampire, who now bowed stiffly toward her. “Frederick von Hesse,” the vampire said, in what had to be a German accent. “So nice to formally make your acquaintance. This is impressive work. Tell me, how did you come to understand so much of the hermetic arts?”

“I don’t,” Claire said flatly. “A lot of it doesn’t make any sense at all.”

Oliver laughed—actually laughed. “I like this new Claire,” he said. “You should work her this hard all the time, Myrnin. She’s interesting when she’s forthright.”

Claire, possessed by the spirit of Eve, shot him the finger. Which made him laugh again, shake his head, and walk up the steps.

Gone.

Leaving her with von Hesse and Myrnin. Von Hesse had a little in common with Oliver in that he, too, looked like an aging hippie, but it was mostly the fact that his hair was shoulder length, blond, and frizzy. He looked older than most vampires, with a lined face and droopy blue eyes, but he had a nice, if tentative, smile. “I apologize,” he said. “I did not mean to offend you.”

Claire sighed. “You didn’t.” For some reason, it was hard for her to stay mad at von Hesse. Oliver, no problem, but this vampire seemed a little . . . nervous? Fragile, maybe. “I’m Claire.”

“Yes, yes, of course you are. You’ve done an amazing thing, Claire. Truly amazing.” He stood back from the table, admiring the glowing machine. “I never thought it would be possible without the interface of an organic —”

“Please don’t start with the brains again,” Claire said. “I’m tired. I’m going home, okay?”

Myrnin, who hadn’t said much, suddenly reached out and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened, shocked, and for a panicked second wondered whether he’d suddenly decided to snack on her neck . . . but it was just a hug. His body felt cold against hers, and way too close, but then he let go and stepped back. “You’ve done very well. I’m extremely proud of you,” he said. There was a touch of color high in his pale cheeks. “Do go home now. And shower. You reek like the dead.”

Which, coming from a vampire, was pretty rich.

“Can I take the portal?” Claire asked. Myrnin moved the concealing bookcase and unlocked the door in the wall, swung it open, and bowed so low he practically scraped the floor. He also dug her cell phone out of the pocket of his baggy shorts and handed it over. Claire stepped up and concentrated until the living room of the Glass House was in focus. Nobody was up yet, it seemed. It was still dark outside the windows.

Before she stepped through, she looked at Myrnin and said, “Thanks for taking care of me.”

He smiled faintly, but in a pained sort of way. “I didn’t,” he said. “I put you at risk, all because I do what Amelie says. And I’m sorry for that. But she was right. It had to be done. And it had to be done quickly. I couldn’t have done it alone, Claire.”

“Good-bye,” said von Hesse, waving. Claire awkwardly waved back, and stepped through the portal.

Home.

She took in a deep breath and looked behind her to see what seemed like a solid wall. She might have dreamed all of it, except that she was still shaky and felt oddly empty.

The house smelled so good. Chili—that was normal—and somebody must have