Fade Out Page 0,47

her ghost still hung there in the air, bobbing ever so slightly as if gravity were just a bothersome suggestion, not the law. A flicker like static ran through her image, then another one.

Then she smiled. "You should see a doctor," she said. "I believe you're ill, human."

"You don't remember." Claire heard the flat disbelief in her voice, but what she really was feeling was . . . fear. Pure, cold fear. Ada could lie - she had before - but this didn't feel like deception.

It felt like something was very, very wrong. And if something was wrong with Ada, it was wrong with Morganville.

"There's nothing to remember," Ada said coolly. "Do you wish more translation done, or may I get on with my duties now?"

"No, I'm good. Where's Myrnin?"

Ada paused in the act of turning her back - stopping edge-on, almost disappearing from Claire's perspective - and slowly rotated in place. Her dark eyes looked like burned holes in her pale face.

"That's none of your business," she said.

"What?"

"Myrnin is mine. And you can't have him. I'll kill you first!"

And then she just - vanished.

Claire gaped at the space where she'd been, half expecting her to show up again, but Ada stayed gone. Claire replaced the book she was holding back on the worktable, and walked around toward the rear of the lab. The thick Persian carpet had been rolled back there, and the trapdoor Myrnin had installed - a clever job of painting the door to match the stone floor - was closed. Claire gritted her teeth and clicked the release, which was a book on frogs in the nearby bookcase. The lock released with a snap, and Claire hauled the trap to the catch position.

Myrnin never kept any lights on down there, in the basement/cave where Ada really lived. Claire grabbed a flashlight, checked the batteries, and then looked down into the darkness. "Myrnin?" she asked. No reply. She heard water dripping in the distance. "Myrnin, where are you?"

Great. This made feeding Bob the spider look like a day at the park.

No way am I going down there alone, she thought, and flipped open her cell phone. Michael answered on the second ring. "Yo," he said. "I'm guessing you don't want to go to a movie, or anything fun like that."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because that would be Shane's job. When you call me, it's usually an emergency."

"Well - okay, fair point. But this isn't. Not an emergency, anyway. I just need - some hand-holding. Can you come to Myrnin's lab?"

Michael's voice turned a lot more serious. "Is this crazy maintenance, or is something really wrong?"

Claire sighed. "I don't know, actually. I just don't want to go down into the dark without a big, strong vampire."

"You mean you can't get down there without my help."

"Well, actually, I can't get out without your help, since Ada's not letting me do the portal thing near her. It's still a compliment, right?"

"Except the part where you drag me into potentially deadly trouble? Yes. Stay put. I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Be careful," she said. She had no idea why she did; it wasn't as if Michael had anything much to be scared of, especially in Morganville. But it was something her mother always said, and it made her feel better to express a little concern for her friends.

"No exploring on your own, Dora," he said.

She felt lonely and exposed, even here with all the lights burning brightly, once his voice was gone from the call. She considered calling Shane, but honestly, what good would it do? He'd come running, but he needed his job, and Michael was already on the way.

Ten minutes.

Claire decided to get the Bob thing over with. Bob's terrarium sat on Myrnin's rolltop desk, amid stacks of books and some pens - quills, fountains, and rollerballs. Bob looked bigger than she remembered. And blacker. And hairier. Claire shuddered, looking in at him; all eight of his beady eyes looked back. He stayed very still.

There was a small bottle on the table that contained insects - live ones. Claire made a retching sound and tried not to look too hard; she just opened the top of the terrarium and tipped the contents of the jar into the cage.

Bob leaped on her hand.

Claire shrieked, and the bottle went flying to shatter against the wall. Bob didn't budge when she violently shook her hand, trying to get rid of him; he clung to her like Velcro, and he felt different, somehow