redder. "That's not what I meant."
Except that Claire had the funny feeling that he did.
She avoided Eve's gaze for another few seconds, then pulled out her cell phone and checked the time. She had nowhere to be, but this was turning weirdly uncomfortable all around.
"Gotta go," she said, and grabbed up her backpack. She'd had about all the Dean time she wanted.
Eve blinked. "You barely touched the mocha!"
"Sorry. You have it."
"I work in a coffee bar. No. Here, Dean. Knock yourself out."
The last she saw before she ducked off into the crowds, heading for nowhere in particular, was Eve handing Dean her abandoned drink, and chatting like old friends.
Claire really didn't have a lot of ideas about what to do for the rest of the day, but one thing she did not intend to do was go against Michael's instructions. No way was she going anywhere near Vampire Central today. Going home didn't have much appeal, either, but it seemed the safest thing to do. As she walked, she dialed Richard Morrell's cell phone number. It went to voice mail. She tried the new chief of police next.
"Hannah Moses, go," said the brisk, calm voice on the other end.
"Hey, Hannah, it's Claire. You know, Claire Danvers?"
Hannah laughed. She was one of the few people Claire had ever met in Morganville who wasn't afraid to really laugh like she meant it. "I know who you are, Claire. How are you?"
"Fine." That was stretching the truth, Claire supposed, but not according to the standards of Morganville, maybe. "How does it feel to be in charge?"
"I'd like to say good, but you know." Claire could almost hear the shrug in the older woman's voice. "Sometimes being a know-nothing spear carrier's comforting. Don't have to know about how the war's going, just the battle in front of you." Hannah was, in real-world terms, a soldier - she'd just come back from Afghanistan a few months ago, and she was as badass a fighter as Claire could even imagine, outside of ninja TV stars. She might not do the fancy high kicks and midair spins, but she could get the job done in a real fight.
Even against vampires.
Hannah finally said, "I'm guessing you didn't call just because you missed me."
"Oh. No . . . I just . . . Did you know Richard Morrell is missing?"
"All over it," Hannah said, without a change at all in her tone. "Nothing to be concerned about. Let me guess, Monica put you onto it. I already told her it's handled."
"I don't think she believes you."
On the other end of the phone, Hannah was probably grinning. "No shit? Well, she's bad; she's not stupid. But her brother's safe enough. Don't worry. Richard can take care of himself, always has."
"Is something going on? Something I should know about?" Hannah said nothing, and Claire felt a hot prickle of shame. "Right. I forgot. I'm wearing the wrong team jersey, right?"
"Not your fault," Hannah said. "You were drafted; you didn't join up. But I can't talk strategy with you, Claire. You know that."
"I know." Claire sighed. "I wish . . . you know."
"I really do. You go home, and stay there. Understand?"
"On my way," Claire promised, and hung up.
On the other side of the street, college-adjacent businesses were starting to close up shop, even though it was still early. Nobody liked to be caught outside as night approached; it was unsafe during the day, but it was a hell of a lot worse at twilight, and after.
Claire slowed as she passed Common Grounds. The security shutters were still down, the door was closed, but there was something . . . something . . .
She crossed the street, not really sure why she did, and stood there for a few seconds, staring like an idiot at the locked door.
Then she heard the distinct, metallic sound of a dead bolt snapping back, and in slow motion, the door sagged open just a bare inch. Nothing showed but darkness.
I am not going to say, "Hello, is anyone there," like some stupid, too-dumb-to-live chick in a movie, Claire thought. Also, I am not going in there.
I'm really not.
The door opened another inch. More darkness. "You've got to be kidding," Claire said. "How stupid do you really think I am?"
This time, the gap opened to about a foot. Standing well back from any hint of sunlight was someone she knew: Theo Goldman, vampire and doctor.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I couldn't come to you. Will you do me