staring at the drying blood on her hands when Oliver stepped down carefully, watching her as he did so.
"It's blood," she said, feeling tired and oddly calm now. "Is it going to make you go all crazy and bite me?"
"Do you go insane with hunger when you see an old, decaying hamburger on the ground next to a trash can?" he asked.
"No," she said. Then, belatedly, "That's disgusting."
"Then let me assure you, the idea of ingesting that filthy, contaminated blood has no appeal to me whatsoever." His voice was oddly quiet, and he looked from her to the pool of blood near the cage. "You're afraid it's Shane's."
She swallowed and managed to whisper, "Is it?"
"No," Oliver said. He crouched down and touched the blood, rubbed it between his fingers, and cautiously sniffed it. "Doesn't smell like his. It's human, but not of the Collins bloodline." He lifted his head again and surveyed the room. More of his people came down the steps, bringing portable lights with them that they set up and turned on, bathing the room in merciless white light. The blood looked almost insanely red, drying to brown patches at the edges. Oliver stood up and stalked over to another spot, then another. "It's also not alone. There are many bloodstains here. Some older; some only a few days old." He walked to the cage and swung open the unlocked door, which creaked like a haunted house. Claire shivered. It felt like that high-pitched squeal had gone straight through her head.
It isn't Shane's blood.She felt an immense, late-breaking wave of relief, and her hands, the hands she'd been holding so rigidly out from her, fell back to her sides. She wanted to cry, but she wasn't sure she had it in her.
"More in here," Oliver said. "A lot more. Many different donors, and vampire blood, as well, as you'd expect from the fight recordings we saw."
"It's barbaric," Amelie said. Claire hadn't heard her arrive, but suddenly she was there, like a white and tattered ghost, glowing in the brilliant lights. If the sun hurt here, why didn't those bright lights? Maybe not the right spectrum. Claire's brain felt sluggish and too tired to work it all out. "Pitting men against each other like fighting dogs in a pit. I can smell the stink of fear and violence here."
Oliver nodded slowly and got to his feet from where he'd been kneeling, examining something Claire couldn't see. "They've been here very recently," he said. "Recently enough to kill someone and set the traps outside. Pressure mines, presumably, triggered when your guards advanced into the shadows. Someone knew precisely what you'd do when you arrived."
"They only misjudged how many I'd bring with me," she said. She seemed all bone and muscle now, and her eyes glittered like ice. "They've made a fatal error. They should have made sure to kill me."
"I'm sure they'll take that to heart," Oliver said. "They knew we were coming. That much is quite obvious."
Amelie turned. Claire thought at first that she was getting her attention, but no, the gray eyes were staring out at something else.
"They've moved operations," she said. "And we have no way of knowing where that is at present. But we will find them, and when we do...when we do, no one will be exempt. No one."
"But--"
"No one," Amelie said. Oliver nodded. "They've allowed humans to fight on equal terms, and humans have the advantage of numbers. They will destroy us with this, even without the danger of exposure. It must stop. Dead."
That,Claire thought with a sick feeling,wasn't a metaphor.
She had to find them first and get Shane out.
Eve was waiting on the street next to her car when the limousine dropped Claire off at home. Amelie hadn't said a word to her, although Claire had tried to talk. It was like she no longer acknowledged Claire existed at all.
"What thehell is going on?" Eve demanded as the limo sped away, gliding like a sleek, black shark. She was dressed in a black corset dress with purple net underneath it, and her lipstick was a shocking magenta. When Eve got distressed, she sometimes channeled it into her wardrobe. And from how she looked today, she wasscreaming on the inside. "Claire? First Shane going over the edge, and you said you'd call! You didn't call! Was Michael there?" That was a sudden flare of hope that glowed inside her like a spotlight, but it dimmed suddenly at the look on Claire's face. "He wasn't.