"Who?" Eve twisted around. "I didn't see anybody."
Claire looked out into the parking lot. Nothing stood out there - no out-of-state plates on the cars, for certain. "Nobody, I guess. Maybe he's just passing through," she said.
"Wish I was," Eve sighed. "Anywhere else is better right now, including lava pits. Are you ready to go?"
"I - Yeah, I guess so." Claire dug cash from her pocket and paid for both of them, over Eve's half hearted protests; Claire got a paycheck (allowance?) from the Founder's Office for her work with Myrnin, and her bank account had grown to impressive four-digit numbers recently. She didn't quite know what to do with all the money, but spending it on a heartsick best friend seemed like a good option. "Home?"
"Is there a second choice?"
"Well, we could go work on your shopping list?"
"That seems pretty dumb, considering."
Claire had to agree with that.
As they walked out of the diner, she glanced back, and saw the anonymous man was now back in the diner. He was sitting at a table, hands folded, and he was watching them as they walked to Eve's big black hearse.
The feeling of misty chill came over her again, and Claire shivered.
Shane was standing outside, in the yard, leaning against the single, ragged, winter-stripped tree, when Eve pulled up at the curb. He had his hands in his jeans pockets, and his brown hair ruffled in the breeze as if invisible hands combed through it. He was staring at the front door, and if he wasn't careful, he'd ignite it into flames by the sheer focused power of that stare.
Claire jumped out and ran to him, already anxious, with Eve right behind. "What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"
Shane jerked his chin at the house. "He's in there," he said. "With her."
"Who?" Eve asked, but it sounded as if she already knew.
"Did you tell her?" Shane asked Claire. She nodded. "The blonde. Naomi. She showed up; he told me to leave. I left."
Eve took a deep breath and walked up the steps - not running, not crying. She looked very calm and self-possessed.
Claire and Shane exchanged a look, and Shane said, "This can't be good," and they ran after her, into the house.
They found her almost immediately, standing in the front parlor of the house, the one none of them ever used; it was a stuffy sort of room, with furniture left over from the days of black-and-white television, if not older. But that was where Michael was, sitting on the stiff sofa, with a china cup of something that probably wasn't tea sitting in front of him.
And there was Naomi, sitting on the couch beside him, with her own matching cup.
The girl-vamp sat at a ladylike angle, knees together, as if she wore a dress instead of cute skinny jeans and a figure-hugging top that Claire regretfully kind of liked. Naomi's chin was up, and her gaze was level on Eve. She didn't look guilty. She looked a little defiant.
Michael, on the other hand, looked deeply uncomfortable. "Eve," he was saying, "it's not - "
"Like it looks?" she finished for him, very calmly. "Oh, I'm sure." Eve stepped forward, holding out her hand. "I don't think we've been introduced."
Naomi's eyebrows moved up, just a little, but she rose gracefully and shook Eve's hand, making it look as if she were a foreign dignitary performing some alien custom for the sake of diplomacy. "I am Naomi de la Tour. You must be Eve Rosser. Of course, I have seen you about town."
Eve stared straight into her face. "Sorry I can't say the same. I don't know you, and I don't appreciate your being here."
Naomi actually blushed, or at least, there was a hint of color in her cheeks. "I am still becoming used to human company," she said. "And I do apologize if I seemed rude toward you. I don't intend to be."
"Eve - ," Michael said. She shot him a glare, and he settled back on the sofa. Busted.
"Maybe we ought to talk about what you do intend," Eve said, and pulled over a straight-backed chair, which she straddled, putting as strong a difference between herself and Naomi's oh-so-ladylike presence as possible. She looked over her shoulder at Shane and Claire. "Out. This could get messy."
"You're sure you don't want backup?" Shane asked.
Michael frowned. "Against what exactly? Me? C'mon, man."
"On second thought," Eve said, "maybe they should stay. Any reason they shouldn't, Michael?"