Bite Club Page 0,26

away, toward his room.

Claire let out her breath, shook her head, and muttered, "And again, I hate you, Myrnin."

Dressed, if not exactly stylish, Claire stuck her head out of her bedroom window. As expected, Myrnin was pacing there, hands behind his back, head down. He was wearing some kind of neon-bright shirt that was probably a holdover from the eighties, and was back to his shorts and comfortable sandals. These were leather, at least, and looked kind of like something a guy would wear. If pushed.

Not exactly vampire chic, as pop culture defined it, but Myrnin wasn't one for fitting in. Ever.

He looked up at her, black hair falling back from his moon-pale face, and said, "Well? Jump!"

It was one thing for a vampire. Quite another for a breakable, not-too-athletic human. Claire shook her head. Myrnin sighed, tugged at his hair with both hands as if wanting to pull out his brain by the roots, and then seemed to have a bright idea. He dashed off into the darkness.

A moment later, he was back, carrying a ladder--and not their ladder. He'd ripped it off from a neighbor, Claire guessed. Well, it was better than jumping.

The climb down was chilly and scary, because Myrnin didn't think about bracing the ladder, which bounced and shifted uneasily with every step she took. Claire jumped the last couple of rungs, landing flat-footed, and whispered, "Where did this thing come from?"

"Oh, out there," Myrnin said, and waved vaguely at the darkness. "We don't have time for niceties. Keep up, please."

Oh, right. Myrnin didn't drive, so there was no car; that meant walking. In the dark. In Vampire City. Well, at least she had an escort, although he had longer legs and didn't bother to slow down for her, so she had to almost jog to stay with him.

"What's going on?" she asked, by the time they'd reached the corner of Lot Street. The streetlight was out. Most of the streetlights in Morganville stayed off when you needed them most. "What's the emergency?"

"I found out who killed your friend."

"Oh." She sucked in a deep breath as they crossed the street and took a right, heading for Founder's Square in the center of town. "Who?"

It was a simple question, but she didn't expect a simple answer. Myrnin was always being vague when she most needed clarity.

So it surprised her when he said, "Do you actually want to know?"

"Of course I do!"

"Think carefully before you answer. Do you want to know, Claire?"

That sounded...ominous. And Myrnin sounded very, very serious and in control, which was odd, to say the least.

"Is there some reason I shouldn't?" she asked. He glanced over at her, and she was unsettled again by the concern in his expression.

"Yes," he said. "Several that I can think of."

"Then why drag me out of bed about it?"

"Not my choice. Amelie's orders. Trust me, I objected. I was overruled."

Claire concentrated on walking for a few moments, until the pale glow of the lights from Founder's Square warmed the night ahead of them. The houses they passed were silent and dark. Apart from a few barking dogs, nobody seemed to notice them.

"Tell me," she said. "Tell me before we get there. It's better if I know what I'm walking into."

"I knew you'd say that." She couldn't decide whether Myrnin approved or sounded resigned about it. "Very well. It's Eve's brother. Jason."

Jason.Well...that didn't shock her quite as much as it probably should have. Jason had sat with them at their dinner table. He'd even kind of saved her life once. But on the other hand, he'd terrorized her, threatened her, and he'd actuallyhurt Shane. With glee. Jason was not a good person, deep down.

"Eve's going to be so upset," Claire said. She couldn't imagine how bad her friend would feel; Eve had been so excited about Jason's supposed turnaround, so supportive of his attempts to make himself better. And now this. It would knock her flat.

"You're not surprised."

"Not...really. I mean, I'm disappointed more than surprised. I wanted him to be...better."

"Ah, Claire." Myrnin shook his head and reached out to give her a quick, fierce, one-armed hug. "You want us all to be better than we are. That's charming, and alarming. I've disappointed you many times."

"Not like this."

"Very much like this," he said. "But perhaps not so bloodily."

"What's going to happen to him?"

Myrnin gave her a long, sideways look. She realized that it maybe wasn't the most perceptive question she'd ever asked. "No," she said. "No, Myrnin. He didn't kill a