"You really are a very trying child," Amelie said, but her eyes stayed fixed on Morley, the scarecrow next to the marble tomb. "I don't know why I bother."
"I don't know why you do, either," Morley said. "Confidentially, your dear old da had the right idea. Kill them all, or pen them up for their blood; this living as equals is nonsense, and you know it. They'll never be our equals, will they?"
"Right back atcha," Eve said, and shot him the finger. Shane quickly grabbed her arm and forced it down. "What, you're Mr. Discretion now? Is it Opposite Day?"
"Just shut up," Shane whispered. "In case you haven't noticed, we're outnumbered."
"And? When are we not?"
Claire shrugged when Shane looked at her. "She does have a point. We usually are."
"You're not helping. Michael?" Shane asked. "What cha got, man?"
"Trouble," Michael said. His voice sounded different, too - deeper than Claire was used to hearing it. Darker. "There are at least eight of them, all vampires. Stay with the girls."
"I know you didn't mean that how it came out. And you need me. Amelie's weak, and you're way outgunned, bro."
"Am I?" Michael flashed them a disconcerting smile that showed fang. "Just stay with the girls, Shane."
"I'd say you suck, but why state the obvious?" Shane's words were banter, but his tone was dead serious, tense, and worried. "Go careful, man. Real careful."
Amelie said, "We're not fighting."
At the top of the hill, with the big white mausoleum glowing like bone behind him, Morley cocked his head and crossed his arms. "No?"
"No," she said. "You are going to walk away, and take your friends with you."
"And why would I do that, when you have such delicious company with you? My people are hungry, Amelie. The occasional rat and drunken stranger really don't make a well-balanced diet."
"You and your pack of jackals can come to the blood bank like any other vampire," she said, just as if she were in charge of the situation, even though Claire could see she was weak and exhausted. "All that's stopping you is your own stubbornness."
"I won't bend my neck to the likes of you. I have my pride."
"Then enjoy your rats," Amelie said, and cast a commanding look at the rest of them. "We're going."
Morley laughed. "You really think so?"
"Oh yes." Amelie smiled, and it felt like the temperature around them dropped by several degrees. "I really do. Because you may like your games and your displays, Morley, but you are hardly so stupid to think that crossing me comes without a price."
This time, it wasn't laughter coming from all around them; it was a low rumble of sound, picked up and carried all around the circle.
Growling.
"You're threatening us," the ragged vampire said, and leaned against the tomb behind him. "You, who reeks of your own blood and weakness. Who stands with a newborn vampire as your only ally, and three juicy snacks to defend. Truly? You've always been bold, my highborn lady, but there is a boundary between bold and foolhardy, and I think that if you look, you'll find it's just behind you."
Amelie said nothing. She just stood there, silent and icy calm, and Morley finally straightened up.
"I'm not your vassal," he said. "Turn over the prey, and I'll let you and the boy walk away."
Claire guessed, with a sick sensation, that the prey meant her, Eve, and Shane. Shane didn't like it, either; she felt him tense at her side.
"Why would you think I'd do such a thing?" Amelie asked. She sounded only vaguely interested in the whole problem.
"You're a chess master. You understand the sacrifice of pawns." Morley smiled, revealing brown, crooked fangs that didn't look any less lethal for never having seen a toothbrush. "It's tactics, not strategy."
"When I want to be lectured on strategy, I'll consult someone who actually won battles," Amelie said. "Not one who ran away from them."
"Snap," Eve said.