Bite Club

Amelie’s eyes had gone an intense, scary white that Claire had seen only once or twice. Kim stopped smiling and began to look very worried.

“Someone tipped them off,” Amelie almost whispered. “And you, my dear Kim, are the most likely suspect. Convince me you didn’t do this.”

“Why would I?” Kim shot back. “I’ve got everything to lose. You’d kill me if I did that!”

“Yes. I would. I still might. Explain how this could have happened, if you didn’t betray me.”

Kim hesitated, licked her pale lips, and then said, “They could have been watching for any trace activity. Didn’t even have to be a live person; it could have been a program. A trip wire. Once it knew I’d found the address, it could have sounded an alert. They’d clear out once they knew they’d been found.”

“And the bombs? Surely that is not now a common home-defense mechanism.”

“I have no idea, except maybe they planned it in case you showed up looking. Would I have been heading for the building if I’d known they were there? My arm is practically broken! It hurts!”

“Yet you still breathe,” Amelie said. “For now.” Her white eyes were fading back to gray, though, and Claire knew Kim’s moment of fatal danger was passing. That was almost too bad. “Very well. I will accept that this is not due to your will, except that you were negligent. Negligence is enough.” She looked at Mr. Martin, standing with his arms folded behind Kim. “Take her back. Now.”

“No!” Kim blurted, but Amelie pushed her roughly toward the other vampire. “No, please! I didn’t do anything, I didn’t! You need me!”

“Why?” Amelie shot back. “You’ve performed the only task for which you were fit. You’ve proven yourself unworthy by your conduct and your words and your callous behavior. I am returning you to your cell, where you will live out your days in silence and solitude. No more films, Kim. No more books. No more soft living. You will be fed, but no one will speak to you, no one will acknowledge your existence. You will live as a ghost until you are one. Because in the end, I do not believe that you are innocent. I think you knew about the trip wire, as you call it; I believe you triggered it, knowing that they would run. I believe you didn’t know about the bombs; you are far too fixed on your own self-preservation to be that daring. But I saw your smile. We all did. You knew.”

Kim’s face lost color, so much so that she almost looked like that ghost Amelie was talking about. “No,” she said. “You can’t do this. You can’t prove anything.”

“I am the Founder,” Amelie said. “And I don’t need to prove anything.” She nodded to Mr. Martin. “Take her. I don’t wish to look on her face again.”

Kim’s eyes met Claire’s stare. “Help me!” she shouted. “Don’t just stand there, bitch! I’m human! I’m one of you!”

Claire shrugged. “You’re not anything of mine. You knew,” she said, “and you didn’t care.”

Kim looked shocked for a flash of a second, and then she bared her teeth in a white, feral grin. “Yeah? Well, you know what else I don’t care about? Whether Shane was in that building or not. I hope he’s dead. I hope he died thinking about you and wondering why you didn’t find him.”

Shane.

She hadn’t thought about it at all; she’d just assumed…but he could be in there.

He could be burning.

Claire didn’t even think about it. She started to run for the building, which was still belching red flame and black smoke high into the air.

“No,” Oliver said, and caught her around the waist, swinging her off the ground. “Not the time for your gallant suicide attempt, Claire.”

“He could be in there!”

“Yes,” Oliver agreed. “And if he is, you can’t help him. Now just—”

That was when someone shot Mr. Martin in the back.

Claire didn’t know what had happened; she heard a crack and saw him lose his grip on Kim and pitch forward. Kim didn’t hesitate. She broke and ran.

Oliver dropped Claire and jumped for Amelie, taking her down flat. Claire staggered, off balance, and went down, too, which probably saved her life. She heard the crackle of guns—more than one—being fired, and staying down seemed like a good idea all of a sudden. Mr. Martin was lying near her, but he wasn’t moving. His eyes were open, and as she looked at him, she saw him blinking.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Bullet in the spine. It will take a few moments,” he said. “Where is she?”

Claire carefully raised her head. “Escaping.”

Kim was running for the cover of the wreckage—not away from the guns firing at them, but toward them. And they seemed to be deliberately missing her, too. Claire finally spotted a dusty, tan-camouflage jeep parked between two sand dunes. There were two men with rifles using it as a firing platform, and Kim was heading for it, fast. One of Oliver’s men went dashing after her and almost made it before a bullet sent him spinning and crashing to the dust.

Kim jumped in the jeep, and it revved its engine and spewed up sand as it raced away. One last shot echoed in the dry air, and then they were gone.

“Get off!” Amelie barked, and Oliver rolled away from her and smoothly to his feet. He offered his hand, but she got up without needing it, looking bone-sharp and very, very angry. She glanced at Claire and Mr. Martin, then out toward where Kim and her rescuers had disappeared. “I misjudged,” she said. “Kim didn’t make a mistake. She’s part of this. Somehow, she is part of it. I should have snapped the little animal’s neck long before this, but I was too merciful. Too conscious of responsibility.” She glanced down at Claire, but there was no sense of recognition in her eyes; she was too angry. “Get up, unless you’re too badly injured to stand.”

Oliver didn’t even bother to look down at Claire. Or Mr. Martin, for that matter. It was like they no longer even existed. “They’re bold,” he said. “And daring. That could have gone very badly for them.”

“Yet it didn’t,” Amelie said. “It appears we have a war on our hands, Oliver.”

He smiled. It was a lovely, almost charming smile, and that made Claire feel a little sick. “Finally,” he said. “No more diplomacy, my lady. No more half measures. Give me rein and I’ll bring you your enemies with their heads decorating my pikes. All your enemies. Humans and vampires.”

This was out of control, going too fast. Kim gone, Shane, Michael…Bishop and Gloriana, the fights, Vassily…it was all a big, messy, bloody ball of confusion, and now Oliver was going to wade in and devastate everything.

Amelie should have said no. Instead, she looked levelly at Oliver, folded her hands in front of her in a formal kind of way, and said, “So be it. War. Bring me their heads.”

“Wait,” Claire said, and scrambled to her feet. “Wait, you can’t. You can’t kill everybody. I told you, Gloriana was using some kind of—”

“Glamour, yes, so you said,” Amelie interrupted. “But you see, I no longer care. They’ve tried to assassinate me, and attacked and killed my own. There are times when mercy and measured justice is not appropriate. And this is one of those times.”

Oliver inclined his head, turned on his heel, and stalked away, moving quickly in the sun. He was starting to turn a bright, sunburned red, but he was grinning viciously.

Mr. Martin. Claire looked down and saw that he, too, was burning, turning an alarming lobster shade. She found a piece of tin that was still mostly intact and dragged it over to shade him. He smiled at her gratefully and a little painfully. “I’ll be on my feet in another minute,” he said. “Amelie, I’m sorry. I should have stopped her.”

Amelie gave him a distant look. “Yes,” she said. “But I will overlook it. You are a valuable asset.” She walked away, Oliver’s black coat rippling in the wind, looking like a child dressing up as an old movie detective, but there was nothing soft about her. Small, but very deadly, like a snake. She called back, “Come away, Claire. There’s nothing more for you to do here. I will require you elsewhere.”

Claire looked down at Mr. Martin. He returned the look and shrugged a little. “She’s very angry,” he said. “You’d do well to obey promptly.”

“Will you be okay if I leave?”

His smile faded. He seemed honestly puzzled. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just do, I guess.” Claire ignored Amelie and turned slowly toward the burning