"You have no stake."
"Wow, you're literal. Maybe I don't have one now, but just wait. You bite me, and it is on, bitch. . . . I don't mean you're a bitch; it's just an expression. You know?" Eve's chatter was only meant to distract. While she was talking, she took Amelie's right arm and pulled the silver coin out of that cut, too.
The flow of blood from Amelie's hands into the dirt of the grave slowed to a drip, then stopped.
And Claire felt the chill inside her own body fade, too, as Amelie healed. Finally, she could feel her life again - the heat in her body, the beating of her heart. She wondered if that was how Amelie felt all the time - that icy winter silence inside.
If it was, she understood why Amelie was here.
The night rattled through the branches of the trees and swirled Amelie's pale hair around her face, hiding her expression. Claire watched the wounds on the vampire's arms fade from red slashes to pale lines, then to nothing.
"What the hell were you doing?" Michael asked.
Amelie shrugged. "It's an old custom," she said. "Offering blood to the lost. It takes will and ingenuity to do it properly."
"Don't forget stupidity," Eve said. "That kind of thing would kill most people, never mind most vampires."
Amelie slowly nodded. "It might have." Michael, who'd been more appalled than any of them, from the look on his face, finally found something to say. "Why?" he asked. "Why would you do this? Because of Sam?"
That actually got a smile, or at least a suggestion of one, on her pale lips. "Your grandfather would be very angry with me if he thought he was the cause. He'd think me a helpless romantic."
Eve snorted."There's romantic, then there's dramatic, and then there's moronic. Guess which this would be."
Amelie's smile faded, and some of the spark came back into her eyes. She lifted her chin, staring down her nose at Eve. "And you do not wake up daily and paint on your clown makeup, knowing it sets you apart from your fellows? What's the phrase your generation uses? It takes one to know one?"
"I'm pretty sure that phrase was hot about fourteen generations back, but yeah, I get your point. And I may be into drama, but hey, at least I'm not a cutter."
"A what?"
"A cutter." Eve pointed to Amelie's bloody wrists. "You know, bad poetry, emo music, I have to hurt myself to feel, because the world's so awful?"
"That isn't why - " Amelie fell silent a moment, then slowly nodded. "Perhaps. Perhaps that is how I feel, yes."
"Well, too damn bad," Eve said, and there was some freaky chill in her voice that made Claire blink. "You want to waste away by your lover's grave, go for it. I'm Goth; I get it. But don't you dare drag Claire along with you, or I'll chase you down in hell and stake you there."
Even Shane was staring at Eve now as if he'd never seen her before. Claire opened her mouth to say something, and couldn't for the life of her figure out what it would be. The silence went on, and on, and finally Amelie turned her head toward Claire and said, "The bracelet. It warned you of my - situation."
"Warned her? It almost killed her," Shane said. "You were taking her with you. But you knew that, right?"
Amelie shook her head. "I did not." She sighed, and she looked very young, and very human. And, Claire thought, very tired. "I had forgotten that such a thing could happen, though now I think on it, it is very possible. I must apologize to you, Claire. You are feeling better now?"
Claire was still cold, but figured that it had more to do with the icy wind and the cold ground than any magic. She nodded and tried not to show any shivers. "I'm fine. But you lost a lot of blood."
Amelie shrugged, just a tiny roll of her shoulders, as if it didn't matter. "I will recover." She didn't sound overly thrilled about it. "Leave me now. I have amends to make to Samuel."
"You can bleed all over his grave some other time," Eve said. "Come on, lady. Up. Let's get you home."
She reached out, and once again, Amelie let herself be touched. Odd, Claire thought; Michael was the vampire, but Amelie trusted Eve more right now. Michael was feeling that, too; there was a complicated look on his face, mostly worry.
"No biting,"