Carpe Corpus Page 0,74

wall at the back of the living room, and felt the slightly pliable surface of the portal lying on top of it. It was invisible, but definitely active.

"Ada," she whispered, and felt the surface ripple.

Her phone rang. Claire answered it. No incoming caller ID had appeared on the display, just random numbers and letters. She answered.

"What?" the computer snapped. "I'm busy, you know. I can't just be at your constant beck and call."

"Shut down the portal to the Glass House."

"Oh, bother. Do it yourself."

"I don't know how!"

"I hardly have time to school you," Ada said primly. God, she reminded Claire of Myrnin - not in a good way. "Very well. I shall do it for you this one time. But you'll have to turn it on again yourself. And stop calling me!"

The phone clicked off, and under Claire's fingers, the surface turned cold and still, like glass.

Blocked. Quantum stasis, she thought, fascinated, and wondered how that worked, for about the millionth time. She wanted to take Ada apart and figure it out. Yeah, if you live long enough. It had taken Myrnin three hundred years to put Ada together; it might take her that long just to figure out the basic principles he'd used.

Michael came back into the living room, leading two other vampires - Ysandre, that smug little witch, and her occasional partner Fran?ois, an equally nasty reject from some Eurotrash vampire melodrama.

They were walking cliches, but they were also deadly. Claire couldn't even look at Fran?ois without remembering how he'd ripped the cross off of her neck and bitten her. She still had the scars - faint, but they'd always be there. And she couldn't forget how that had felt, either.

A hot flood of emotion came over her when she saw him smirking at her - hate, fear, loathing, and fury. She knew he could feel it coming off of her in sick waves.

She also knew he enjoyed it.

Fran?ois gave her an elaborate bow and blew her a kiss. "Cherie," he said. "The exquisite taste of you still lingers in my mouth."

Shane's hands closed into fists. Fran?ois saw that, too. Claire touched Shane's arm; his muscles were tensed and hard. "Don't let him bait you," she whispered. "I was a snack. Not a date."

Fran?ois closed his eyes and made a point of sniffing the air. "Ah, but you smell so different now," he said, with elaborate disappointment. "Rich and complex, not simple and pure anymore. Still, I was the first to taste your blood, wasn't I, little Claire? And you never forget your first."

"Don't!" she hissed to Shane, and dug her fingernails in as deep as she could. It was all she could do. If Shane decided to go for him, she knew how it would end.

Luckily, so did Shane. He slowly relaxed, and Claire saw Michael's tension ease as well. "We talking, or are we walking?" Shane asked. "I thought we had someplace to be."

Claire felt a sunburst of pride in him, and a longing that came with it - she wanted all of this to just stop; she wanted to go back to the night, the silence, the touch of his skin and the sound of his whispers. That was real. That was important.

It was a reason to live through all this.

She took Shane's hand and squeezed it. He sent her a look. "What?"

She whispered, "You're just full of awesome; did you know that?"

Fran?ois made a face. "Full of something. In the car, fools."

Founder's Square at twilight was full of people - rock-concert full. Claire didn't even know this many people lived in Morganville. "Did they grab the students, too?" she asked Michael.

"Bishop's not quite that stupid. It's residents only. University gates were closed. The place is under lock-down."

"What, again? Even the stoners are going to figure out something's going on." Claire certainly would have, and she knew most of the students weren't that gullible. Then again, knowing and wanting to push the status quo were two very different things. "You think they'll stay on campus?"

"I think if they don't, the problem's going to solve itself," Michael said somberly. "Amelie will try to protect them, but we've got a much bigger issue tonight."

Technically, that challenge was saving Morganville, and everybody in it.

There were no chairs down on the grassy area, but Bishop's vampires were out and about, and they were separating people at the entrances to the park and sending them to special holding areas. Or, Claire, thought, pens. Like sorting cattle. "What are they doing?"

"Dividing