Eve watched him go, and the look in her eyes was boiling with resentment. She finally shrugged and took a deep breath. "Yeah," she said. "This'll be so much fun. See ya, Claire Bear."
"See you," Claire said. They hugged one last time, just for comfort, and then Eve was leaving, back straight, head high.
She was probably crying, Claire thought. Eve cried at times like these. Claire didn't seem to be able to cry when it counted, like now. It felt like pieces of her were being pulled off, and she felt cold and empty inside. No tears.
And now it was her heart being ripped out, because Shane was being summoned impatiently by yet another hard looking bunch of vampires and humans near the door. He nodded to them, took her hands, and looked into her eyes.
Say it, she thought.
But he didn't. He just kissed her hands, turned, and walked away, dragging her red, bleeding heart with him-- metaphorically, anyway.
"I love you," she whispered. She'd said it before, but he'd hung up the phone before she'd gotten it out. Then she'd said it in the hospital, but he'd been doped up on painkillers. And he didn't hear her now, as he walked away from her.
But at least she had the guts to try.
He waved to her from the door, and then he was gone, and she suddenly felt very alone in the world--and very . . . young. Those who were left in the Glass House had jobs of their own, and she was in the way. She found a chair-- Michael's armchair, as it turned out--and pulled her feet up under her as humans and vampires moved around, fortifying windows and doors, distributing weapons, talking in low tones.
She might have become a ghost, for all the attention they paid her.
She didn't have to wait long. In just a few minutes, Amelie came sweeping down the stairs. She had a whole scary bunch of vampires behind her, and a few humans, including two in police uniforms.
They were all armed--knives, clubs, swords. Some had stakes, including the policemen; they had them, instead of riot batons, hanging from their utility belts. Standardissue equipment for Morganville, Claire thought, and had to suppress a manic giggle. Maybe instead of pepper spray, they have garlic spray.
Amelie handed Claire two things: a thin, silver knife, and a wooden stake. "A wooden stake in the heart will put one of us down," she said. "You must use the silver knife to kill us. No steel, unless you plan to take our heads off with it. The stake alone will not do it, unless you're very lucky or sunlight catches us helpless, and even then, we are slower to die the older we are. Do you understand?"
Claire nodded numbly. I'm sixteen, she wanted to say. I'm not ready for this.
But she kind of had to be, now. Amelie's fierce, cold expression seemed to soften, just a touch. "I can't entrust Myrnin to anyone else. When we find him, it will be your responsibility to manage him. He may be--" Amelie paused, as if searching for the right word. "Difficult." That probably wasn't it. "I don't want you to fight, but I need you with us."
Claire lifted the stake and the knife. "Then why did you give me these?"
"Because you might need to defend yourself, or him. If you do, I don't want you to hesitate, child. Defend yourself and Myrnin at all costs. Some of those who come against us may be those you know. Don't let that stop you. We are in this to survive now."
Claire nodded numbly. She'd been pretending that all this was some kind of action/adventure video game, like the zombiefighting one Shane enjoyed so much, but with every one of her friends leaving, she'd lost some of that distance. Now it was right here in front of her: reality. People were dying.
She might be one of them.
"I'll stay close," she said. Amelie's cold fingers touched her chin, very lightly.
"Do that." Amelie turned her attention to the others around them. "Watch for my father, but don't be drawn off to face him. It's what he wants. He will have his own reinforcements, and will be gathering more. Stay together, and watch each other closely. Protect me, and protect the child."
"Um--could you stop calling me that?" Claire asked. Amelie's icy eyes fixed on her in almosthuman puzzlement. "Child, I mean? I'm not a child."
It felt like time stopped for about a hundred years while Amelie stared at her. It probably had been at least a hundred years since the last time anybody had dared correct Amelie like that in public.
Amelie's lips curved, very slightly. "No," she agreed. "You are not a child, and in any case, by your age, I was a bride and ruled a kingdom. I should know better."
Claire felt heat build in her face. Great, she was blushing, as everybody's attention focused on her. Amelie's smile widened.
"I stand corrected," she said to the rest of them. "Protect this young woman."
She really didn't feel like that, either, but Claire wasn't going to push her luck on that one. The other vampires looked mostly annoyed with the distinction, and the humans looked nervous.
"Come," Amelie said, and turned to face the blank far wall of the living room. It shimmered like an asphalt road in the summer, and Claire felt the connection snap open.
Amelie stepped through what looked like blank wall. After a second or two of surprise, the vampires started to follow her.
"Man, I can't believe we're doing this," one of the policemen behind Claire whispered to the other.