Glass Houses

Claire wrote down fire. “What about stakes?”

“You’ve seen Brandon,” Eve said. “You want to try to get close enough to stake him? Yeah, me neither.”

“But do they work?”

“Guess so. You have to fill out a form when you buy wood.”

Claire wrote it down. “Crosses?”

“Definitely.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re evil, soulless, bloodsucking fiends?”

“So was my sixth-grade gym teacher, but he wasn’t afraid of a cross.”

“Funny,” Eve said, in the way that meant not. “Because there are hardly any churches, and so far as I know, crosses are impossible to come by unless you make ’em yourself. Also, all these guys grew up—isn’t that weird, thinking of them growing up? — when religion wasn’t just something you did on Sundays. It was something you were, every minute, every day, and God was always up for a little recreational smiting of the wicked.”

“Don’t,” Michael murmured. “God’s scarce enough around here.”

“No offense to the Big Guy, Michael, but he made himself scarce,” Eve shot back. “You know how many nights I spent in bed praying, Dear God, please take away all the bad people? Yeah, that really worked.” Michael opened his mouth to say something. “And please don’t tell me God loves me. If God loved me, he’d drop a bus ticket to Austin in my lap so I could blow this town once and for all.”

Eve sounded—well, angry. Claire tapped her pencil against the pad, not making eye contact.

“How do they keep people from leaving?” she asked.

“They don’t. Some people leave. I mean, Shane did,” Michael said. “I think the question you’re looking for is, how do they keep them from talking? And that’s where it gets weird.”

“That’s where?” Claire murmured. Eve laughed.

“I don’t know myself, because I never got out of town, but Shane says that once you get about ten miles outside of Morganville, you get this terrible headache, and then you just…start to forget. First you can’t remember what the name of the town was, and then you can’t remember how to get there, and then you don’t remember that the town had vampires. Or the rules. It just—doesn’t exist anymore for you. It comes back if you return to town, but when you’re out, you can’t run around telling all about Morganville because you just don’t remember.”

“I heard rumors,” Eve said. “Some people start remembering, but they get—” She made a graphic throat- cutting gesture. “Hit squads.”

Claire tried to think of things that would cause that kind of memory loss. Drugs, maybe? Or…some kind of local energy field? Or…okay, she had no idea. But it sounded like magic, and magic made her nervous. She supposed vampires were magic, too, when you got right down to it, and that made her even more nervous. Magic didn’t exist. Shouldn’t exist. It was just…wrong. It offended her scientific training.

“So where does all that leave us?” Michael asked. It was a reasonable question.

Claire flipped another page, wrote down memory loss aft. depart, and said, “I’m not sure. I mean, if we’re going to put together any kind of a plan, we have to basically know as much as we can to make sure it’s a good enough approach. So keep talking. What else?”

It went on for hours. The grandfather clock solemnly announced the arrival and departure of nine o’clock, then ten, then eleven. It was nearly midnight, and Claire had scribbled up most of the ledger pages, when she looked at Michael and Eve and asked, “Anything else?” and got negative shakes of their heads in reply. “Okay, then. Tell me about the book.”

“I don’t know a lot,” Eve said. “They just put out a notice about ten years ago that they were looking for it. I heard they have people all over town going through libraries, bookstores, anyplace it could be hidden. But the weird thing is that vamps can’t actually read it.”

“You mean it’s in some other language?”

Michael raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think it’s that easy. I mean, every one of these suckers has got to speak a dozen languages, at least.”

“Dead languages,” Eve said. When they looked at her, she grinned. “What? Come on. Funny!”

“Maybe they can’t read it for the same reason people can’t remember anything outside of town,” Claire said slowly. “Because something doesn’t want them to.”

“That’s kind of a leap, but the Russian judge gave you a nine point five for style, so okay,” Eve said. “The important thing is that we know what it looks like.”

“Which is?” Claire put her pencil to paper.

“A book with a brown leather cover. Some kind of symbol on the front.”

“What kind?” Because brown leather cover didn’t exactly narrow things down when it came to books.

Eve pushed up the sleeve of her skintight black mesh top, and held out her forearm. There, tattooed in plain blue, was a symbol that looked kind of like an omega, only with some extra waves in it. Simple, but definitely nothing Claire could remember seeing before. “They’ve been searching for it. They gave everybody growing up in a Protected family the tattoo so that we remember what to look for.”

Claire stared for a couple of seconds, wanting to ask how old Eve was when she got the tattoo, but she didn’t quite dare. She dutifully marked the symbol down in her notebook. “And nobody’s found it. Are they sure it’s here?”

“They seem to think so. But I’ll bet they’ve got their sources searching all over the world for it. Seems pretty important to them.”

“Any idea why?”

“Nobody knows,” Michael said. “I grew up asking, believe me. Nobody has a clue. Not even the vampires.”

“How can they be looking for something and not even know why?”

“I’m not saying somebody doesn’t know why. But the vampires have ranks, and the only ones I’ve ever really talked to aren’t exactly in charge. Point is, we can’t find out, so we shouldn’t waste time worrying about it.”

“Good to know.” Claire put contents unknown next to the symbol of the book, then valuable!!!!! underneath, underscored with three dark lines. “So if we can find this book, we can trade it to get Monica off my back, and make sure Shane’s deal is called off.”

Michael and Eve looked at each other. “Did you miss the part where the vamps have been turning Morganville upside down trying to find it?” Eve asked.

Claire sighed, flipped back a page, and pointed at a note she’d made. Eve and Michael both craned over to read it.

Vampires can’t read it.

They looked blank.

“I’m going to need to spend some time at the library,” Claire said. “And we’re going to need some supplies.”

“To do what?” Eve still wasn’t catching on, but Michael was.

“Fake the book?” he asked. “You really think that’ll work? What do you think happens when they figure out we cheated?”

“Bad idea,” Eve said. “Very bad idea. Honest.”

“Guys,” Claire said patiently. “If we’re careful, they’ll never suspect we’re smart enough to do something like that. Not to mention brave enough. So we give them a fake—it’s still more than anybody else has. They may be pissed, but they’ll be pissed that somebody faked it. We just found it.”

They were both looking at her now like they’d never seen her before. Michael shook his head.

“Bad idea,” he said.

Maybe so. But she was going to try it anyway.