Bishop slapped his palm down on the desk, hard enough to leave his imprint half an inch deep in the wood. "I am done with restraint. This town will learn I am not to be taunted, not to be toyed with, not to be mocked. You will learn."
Claire wanted to shoot back some smart-ass remark, but she could see the vicious anger in him, and knew it was just waiting to pounce. She stood there, silent, watching him, and then he slowly relaxed. When she started to back away, he said, "Stay there. I have something for you."
He snapped his fingers, and when the door opened, Shane walked in. She hadn't noticed it in the cell, but he was thinner than he'd been a few months ago - and he was also bruised and simmering with fury. When he saw Bishop, he lunged for him.
"No!" Claire yelled. "Shane, stop!"
He didn't, but he also didn't have to. Michael flashed across the room and got in his way, wrapping Shane in a bear hug and bringing him to a sudden halt.
"Let go!" Shane's voice was ragged, splitting and tearing under the strain of his anger. "Screw you, Michael; let go!"
He tried to break free. Michael didn't let him. He pushed him back, all the way to the wall, and held him there. Claire couldn't see Michael's face, but she could see part of Shane's, and she saw something change in it. Shane stopped fighting, as if he'd received some message she hadn't seen.
"I am a good master," Bishop said, as if none of that had happened. "You asked me for a birthday favor, Claire. I granted you a visit. Today, I have decided that it was a poor gift. I will give you what you want. Shane will be free to go."
Claire didn't dare to breathe, blink, move. She knew this was a trick, a cruel way to crush her hopes, and Shane's, too. "Why?" she finally said. Her lips felt numb. "Why now?"
"Because I intend to teach you both what it means to defy me, once and for all, and let you carry the tale for me," Bishop said. "Michael. Hold them, but make sure the two of them see everything. I won't have my students failing their lessons."
Bishop's control let go, and Claire stumbled backward into Michael. His arm went around her waist, and she felt the pressure of his lips close to her ear. "Stay still," he whispered. "No matter what happens, just stay still. Please. I'll protect you."
On Michael's other side, Shane was very, very quiet. He wasn't looking at Bishop. He was looking across at Claire, and he was scared - scared that something was going to happen to her, she realized. She tried for a smile, but wasn't sure how it came out.
Shane opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, a vampire guard came in, bringing a thin, scraggly man with a mess of graying, curling hair and a nasty scar down his face.
Shane's dad. He looked older, thinner, and even more vulnerable than he had back in his cell - nothing like the big, scary monster who'd terrified her when she'd first met him.
"Are you watching, Shane?" Bishop asked. "I want you to learn, so that you don't make the same mistakes again."
"Dad," Shane said. "Dad?"
Frank Collins put his hand out to stop Shane from trying to break free. "It's all right. Nothing he can do to me now." He faced Bishop straight on. "Been there, done that, not scared of anything you can bring to this party, bloodsucker. So just kill me and get it over with."
Bishop slowly rose from his chair, staying behind the desk.
"But, Mr. Collins, you mistake me. I'm not going to kill you. I'd never do such a thing. You're far too valuable to me."
His pale hands flashed out, grabbed Shane's dad, and jerked him forward over the desk. Claire shut her eyes as the fangs came out, and Bishop's eyes flashed red. She didn't see the actual biting, but she heard Shane screaming.
It was over in about thirty seconds. Shane never stopped fighting to get free of Michael's hold.
Claire didn't fight at all. She just couldn't.
She heard a thud as Mr. Collins's body hit the floor, and when she opened her eyes she realized that she'd been wrong about everything. Very wrong.
Bishop wasn't finished.
He gnawed at his wrist, pried open Frank Collins's mouth, and poured blood into it as he spread his other hand over the top of the man's head. Claire had seen this before - Amelie had done it to Michael - but Amelie had found it difficult and exhausting to make a new vampire.
For Bishop, it seemed easy.
"No," Shane said. "No, stop."
Right there, right in front of them, Frank Collins coughed, choked, and came back to life. It looked painful, and it seemed to take forever for the thrashing and screaming to stop.
When it did, he wasn't Frank Collins. Not anymore.
He opened his eyes, and they were red.