Feast of Fools(3)

      Its complicated, Michael said. He yanked open cabinets and began assembling the makings of fresh coffee. Yeah, its our houseemphasis, Claire noted, on the ourbut if I revoke Bishops invitation, he will still kick our asses, I guarantee you. 

 

      Shane leaned his butt against the stove and crossed his arms. I just thought you were supposed to be stronger than them on home ground

 

      Supposed to be. Im not. Michael spooned coffee into the filter. Dont be an asshole right nowwe dont have time for it. 

 

      Dude, I wasnt trying to be. And Claire could tell he actually meant it this time. Michael seemed to hear it, too, and sent Shane an apologetic glance. Im trying to figure out how big a pile of crap were in. Not blaming you, man. He hesitated a second, then continued. How do you know? Whether or not you have a chance?

 

 Any other vampire I meet, I know where I stand with them. Whos stronger, whos weaker, whether or not I could take them in a straight-up fight if it came to that. Michael poured water into the machine and switched it on to brew. These guys, I know I havent got a chance in hell. Not against one of them, much less all three, not even with the house itself backing me up. Theyre badass, man. Truly black hat. Its going to take Amelie or Oliver to handle this. 

 

      So, Shane said, landfill-sized pile of crap. Good to know. 

 

      Eve pushed him out of the way and began getting pots and pans out of the cabinets, clattering everything noisily. Since were not fighting, wed better get breakfast ready, she said. Claire, you get the eggs, since you volunteered us for short-order cooks. 

 

      Better than volunteering us for breakfast, Shane pointed out, and Eve snorted. 

 

      You, she said, and pressed a finger into the center of his well-worn T-shirt. You, mister. Youre making gravy. 

 

 You do want us all to die, dont you?

 

      Shut up. Ill do the biscuits and bacon. Michael She turned, looking at him with big dark eyes, made almost anime-wide by the Goth eyeliner. Coffee. And I think you have to be the private eye here. Sorry. 

 

      He nodded. Ill go make sure I know what theyre doing when I finish here. 

 

      Assigning Michael the barista and spy duties made sense, but it left the three of them the majority of the work, and none of them were exactly future chefs in training. Claire struggled with the scrambled eggs. Eve cursed the bacon grease in a fierce whisper, and whatever Shane was making, it didnt really look that much like gravy. 

 

      Can I help?

 

      They all jumped at the voice, and Claire whirled toward the kitchen door. Mom! She knew she sounded panicked. She was panicked. Shed forgotten all about her parentstheyd come in with Mr. Bishop, and Bishops friends had moved them into the not-much-used parlor at the front of the house. In the great scheme of scary things, Bishop had taken the forefront.