right one. She slowly stretched it out toward him. "I'm sorry," she said. "Sir, I'm . . . so sorry." She wanted to explain to him, but there really didn't seem to be much to excuse it at the moment. She was here. She was doing what Bishop wanted her to do.
This time, she'd chosen to do it.
No excuse for that.
"Don't blame yourself," Detective Hess said, and plucked the scroll from her fingers. "Claire, none of this is your fault. You understand that, right? You're not to blame for Bishop, or anything else that's screwed up around here. You did your best."
"Wasn't good enough, was it?"
He watched her for another long second, then shook his head and snapped the seals on the scroll. "If anybody failed, it was Amelie," he said. "We just have to figure out how to survive now. We're in uncharted territory."
He unrolled the scroll. His hands were steady and his expression carefully still. He didn't want to scare her, she realized. He didn't want her to feel guilty.
Detective Hess read the contents of the paper, then let it roll up again into a loose curl. He set it on his desk, on top of a leaning tower of file folders.
She had to ask. "What is it?"
"Nothing you need to worry about," he said, which couldn't have been true. "You did your job, Claire. Go on, now. And promise me . . ." He hesitated, then sat back in his chair and opened a file folder so he could look busy. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."
She couldn't promise that. She had the feeling she'd already been stupid three or four times since breakfast.
But she nodded, because it was really all she could do for him.
He gave her a distracted smile. "Sorry. Busy around here," he said. That was a lie; there was almost nobody in the room. He tapped a pencil on the open file. "I've got court this morning. You go on now. I'll see you soon."
"Joe - "
"Go, Claire. Thank you."
He was going to protect her; she could see that. Protect her from the consequences of what she'd done.
She couldn't think how she would ever really pay him back for that.
As she walked out, she felt him watching her, but when she glanced back, he was concentrating on his folder again.
"Hey, Claire? Happy birthday."
She would not cry.
"Thanks," she whispered, and choked on the word as she opened the door and escaped from whatever awful thing she'd just brought to his desk.
It was nearly one o'clock when she made it back to Bishop's office - not so much because it was a long trip as because she had to stop, sit, and cry out her distress in private, then make sure she'd scrubbed away any traces before she headed back. Ysandre would be all over it if she didn't.
And Bishop.
Claire thought she did a good job of looking calm as Ysandre waved her back to the office. Bishop was just where he'd been, although the third vampire, the stranger, was gone.
Michael was still there.
Myrnin was trying to build an elaborate abstract structure out of paper clips and binder clips, which was one of his less crazy ways to pass the time.
"The prodigal child returns," Bishop said. "And how did Detective Hess take the news?"
"Fine." Claire wasn't going to give him anything, but even that seemed to amuse him. He leaned on the corner of his desk and crossed his arms, staring at her with a faint, weird smile.
"He didn't tell you, did he?"
"I didn't ask."
"What a civilized place Morganville is." Bishop made that into an insult. "Very well, you've done your duty. I suppose I'll have to keep my half of the bargain." He glanced at Myrnin. "She's your pet. Clean up after her."
Myrnin gave Bishop a lazy salute. "As my master commands." He stood with that unconscious vampire grace that made Claire feel heavy, stupid, and slow, and his bright black eyes locked with hers for a long moment. If he was trying to tell her something, she had no idea what it was. "Out, girl. Master Bishop has important work to do here."
What? she wondered. Working on his evil laugh? Interviewing backup minions?
Myrnin crossed the room and closed ice-cold fingers around her arm. She pulled in a breath for a gasp, but he didn't give her time to react; she was yanked along with him down the hall, moving at a stumbling run.
She looked back at Michael mutely, but he couldn't help