Black Dawn

“Myrnin?” Theo repeated when we asked, and straightened up from where he sat staring into a microscope. “I’m afraid he’s not been here. I haven’t seen him for some time. Have you tried the lab?”

“Can’t find it,” Shane said. He sounded like he was ready to break something, and I couldn’t really blame him.

“Ah. Second hall, turn left, then three doors down on the right. Tell the madman I said hello.” Theo went back to his microscope as if it was vitally important, which maybe it was, and Harold waved to Shane. Shane waved back, looking a little confused about it, and we backed out of the mini-hospital and into the hall.

Theo’s directions took us straight to Myrnin’s makeshift lab, but although it was full of glass and books and tables, there was absolutely no one there.

“Hang on,” Michael said, and took out his phone. He dialed, and listened. I watched his expression grow set and a little worried. “She’s not answering.”

“Try Myrnin,” Shane said. He was as tense as a guitar string, and about as likely to break at the wrong pressure. Michael dialed, listened, and shook his head. “I can’t help it, I have a bad feeling about this …”

“You should.”

We all turned, in varying degrees of fast, and I don’t know about the guys, but I was really surprised to see my uncomfortable little friend Miranda standing in the lab doorway. She looked as mismatched and odd as ever, and her eyes had that looking-through-us focus that made me shudder.

“What are you talking about?” Shane asked, and walked toward her. He probably didn’t mean it to be threatening, but he was agitated, and an agitated Shane was an intimidating thing. Miranda backed up. He stopped and held up both hands in frustrated surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you, kid. Just tell me. Where is Claire?”

“Home,” she said. “I told her not to go. I told her.” She looked … distressed, which was weird to me. I’d seen Miranda go through a car wreck and the loss of a sister without that much of a reaction. “It’s all going wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Mir.” I pushed past Shane and took the girl’s hand. She was all soft skin over thin bird bones, and I made a mental note to make the poor kid a sandwich sometime; she desperately needed it. “Miranda, you know me, right?”

That knocked her out of the psychic trance state, and she gave me a wary, annoyed look. “Of course,” she said. “You’re Eve. Why wouldn’t I?”

Excellent question, but I let it go. “Take a deep breath and explain what’s going on. You’re not making any sense.”

“It doesn’t make any sense. That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Miranda shot back, and sighed. “Claire’s at the Glass House. And she shouldn’t be there. I told her that before she went to see Myrnin.”

I looked over at Shane. “Did she say anything about—”

“The last thing I knew, she was going to meet Myrnin, but I don’t know where.” He was staring at Miranda with a fiercely still expression, as if he was throttling the impulse to shake something out of her. “He must have taken her home is all I can figure. But why would he do that?”

“Murky,” Miranda said. “I can’t see what’s going on. It’s scary, Eve. I don’t like it. But I know we have to help her. We have to.” Her hand was shaking, and her small fingers wrapped tight around mine. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Except if we do, we won’t all make it.”

I swallowed hard and suppressed the Shane-like impulse to shake her. She was making as much sense as she could, I knew that. The kid was half-autistic, half-psychic; it was a miracle she got out as much as she did. And it always made sense, later. “Who won’t make it?”

“Unclear,” she said, as if she was one of those Magic 8 Balls I liked so much.

“Screw this,” Shane said. “I’m going to get Claire.”

“We,” Michael said. “We’re going to get her.”

Miranda nodded. “But there’s someone else we need.” She pulled free of my grip and darted away, running surprisingly fast; I ran after her, and heard the boys pounding in my wake. The girl ran like she had an absolutely accurate map of where she wanted to go, and I quickly lost count of the turns and blurred doorways until she skidded to a stop in front of one that looked identical to all the others. “It’s locked,” she said, and looked at Michael. “Break it.”

He shrugged and took hold of the knob. It was vampire-reinforced, but he was determined, and a few sharp sideways tugs snapped it off in his hand. He reached into the hole and pulled the metal tongue back, then swung the door open.

Inside, my brother, Jason, was sitting cross-legged on a rumpled bunk in a bright orange prison-style jumpsuit with numbers over where a breast pocket would have been. He looked up, tossed lank hair back from his face, and stared at Michael, then past him at me. “Family reunion,” he said. “Cool.” He raised one hand, and I saw he was handcuffed to a length of chain that was fastened to the wall—enough slack for him to get to the bathroom, but not much more. “No need to be afraid. I’m safe.”

Shane cast a sidelong look at Miranda, and said, “Seriously?”

She nodded. “We need him.”

“Okay, then,” Michael said. “Just so we’re clear, Jason: I love your sister, but that doesn’t extend to you. You step out of line, you do anything that isn’t in your sister’s best interests, and I’ll carry out your sentence. We clear?”

“Michael!” I blurted. I wasn’t sure what appalled me more—that he was thinking about letting Jason go, or that he was thinking of killing him. Maybe both.

“Clear,” Jason said. “Look, man, you let me go and I promise you, I’ll do whatever you want. Once that’s done, I’m out of Morganville and out of your lives. All right?”

“Deal,” Michael said. “I’ll be watching you.”

For an answer, Jason held up his pinned wrist. Michael took hold of the chain and bent one of the links, and just like that, my brother was … free.

“Are you totally sure about this?” I asked Miranda under my breath. She nodded placidly. “Because I know him. And he’s not—”

“I know,” she said. “He’s not trustworthy. But that’s okay. This time he’s what we need.”

Jason stood up, moved his arm as if reveling in the freedom, and said, “So, what are we doing?”

“Getting guns,” Miranda said. “Lots of guns.”

That drew a scary smile from my brother. “I like this plan,” he said, and followed Miranda out. Michael went after, dogging him with a worried frown.

I exchanged a look with Shane.

“I know,” he said. “We are into the This Is a Bad Idea neighborhood, and heading down I Have a Bad Feeling Street. But either we believe her or we don’t. Maybe she’s gone completely over the edge. You considered that?”

“I consider it every time I talk to her,” I said, “but do you want to risk it? With Claire’s life on the line?”

He shook his head. “Let’s go,” he said. “But keep an eye on your brother.”

Both eyes. Absolutely.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CLAIRE

She had never seen it coming.

The first moments of waking up were spent wondering what the hell had happened. She remembered getting the call. Dressing. Going down in the elevator. Meeting Myrnin and Hannah in the garage.

And then … and then he’d turned on her. Grabbed her. Abducted her. She’d fought, too. Fought until he’d put her out.

And now she was here, and her head ached miserably. But where was here? And what the hell had happened? Why?

The next thing that came to her, after the panic, was the realization that she wasn’t submerged in water. It