"The drugs would not necessarily kill a vampire," Myrnin said. "Bishop draining him certainly would."
The silence stretched. Myrnin looked down at his dirty feet in those ridiculous flip-flops. In the other room, Claire heard a child singing her ABCs, and then a woman's quiet voice hushing her.
"Myrnin," Claire said. "It doesn't have to be you."
Myrnin raised his head and fixed his gaze on hers.
"Of course it doesn't," he said. "But it will have to be someone you know. Someone you might perhaps like. Of all the people in Morganville, Claire, I never expected you to turn so cold to that possibility."
She shivered deep inside from the disappointment in his voice, and fisted her hands in the folds of Shane's oversize sweatshirt. "I'm not cold," she said. "I'm desperate. And so are you."
"Yes," Myrnin said. "That's unfortunately quite true."
He turned away, clasped his hands behind his back, and began to pace the far end of the room, turn after turn, head down.
Dr. Mills cleared his throat. "If you have some time, I need help bottling the serum I do have. There's enough for maybe twenty vampires - thirty if I stretch it. No more."
"Okay," Claire said, and followed him to the other side of the room, where a beaker and tiny bottles waited. She poured and handed him bottles to place the needle-permeable caps on with a metal crimper. The serum was milky and slightly pink. "How long does it take to work?"
"About forty-eight hours, according to my tests," he said. "I need to give it to Myrnin; he's the worst case we have who isn't already confined in a cell."
"He won't let you," Claire said. "He thinks he needs to be crazy so that Bishop can't sense that he's still working for Amelie."
Dr. Mills frowned at her. "Is that true?"
"I think he needs to be crazy," she said. "Just probably not for the reason he says."
Myrnin refused the shot. Of course. But he took pocketfuls of the medicine and disposable syringes, and escorted Claire back out of the lab. She heard the lock snap shut behind them.
"Are Dr. Mills and his family safe in there?" she asked. Myrnin didn't answer. "Are they?"
"As safe as anyone is in Morganville," he said, which really wasn't an answer. He stopped and leaned against a wall and closed his eyes. "Claire. I'm afraid. . . ."
"What?"
He shook his head. "I'm just afraid. And that's rare. That's so very rare."
He sounded lost and uncertain, the way he sometimes did when the disease began to take hold - but this was different. This was the real Myrnin, not the confused one. And it made Claire afraid, too.
She reached out and took his hand. It felt like a real person's hand, just cold. His fingers tightened on hers, briefly, and then released.
"I believe that it's time for you to learn some things," he said. "Come."
He pushed off from the wall, and led her at a brisk walk toward the portal, flip-flops snapping with urgency.
Chapter Five
Myrnin's actual lab was a deserted wreck.
Whether it was Bishop's goons, vandals, or just Myrnin being crazy, there was even more destruction now than the last time Claire had seen the place. Virtually all the glass had been shattered; it covered the floor in a deadly glitter. Tables had been overturned and floor in a deadly glitter. Tables had been overturned and splintered. Books had been ripped to shreds, with the leather and cloth covers gutted and empty, tossed on piles of trash.
The whole place smelled foul with spilled chemicals and molding paper.
Myrnin said nothing as they descended the steps into the mess, but on the last step, he paused and sat down - more like fell down, actually. Claire wasn't sure what to do, so she waited.
"You okay?" she finally asked. He slowly shook his head.
"I've lived here a long time," Myrnin said. "Mostly by choice, as it happens; I've always preferred a lab to a palace, which Amelie never really understood, although she humored me. I know it's only a place, only things. I didn't expect to feel so much . . . loss." He was silent again for a moment, and then sighed. "I shall have to rebuild again. But it will be a bother."