Claire watched as the cops walked away. They exchanged nods with a tallish young man who was coming her direction. For a second she thought it was Michael -- he had the same walk, the same basic shape -- but then his hair caught the light. Red hair, not blond like Michael's.
Sam. Sam Glass, Michael's grandfather. Amelie had told her that Sam would escort her to see Myrnin; she'd just forgotten about it. Well, that was okay. Claire liked Sam. He was quiet and kind and didn't seem much like a vampire at all, except for the pale skin and the slight weird shine to his eyes. Exactly like Michael, now that she thought of it. But then, they were the two youngest, and -- weirdly -- related. Maybe the older the vampires got, the farther they moved from normal.
"Hey, Claire, " Sam said, as if they'd just talked five minutes before, although she hadn't seen him for nearly a week, at least. She supposed that time was different for vampires. "What'd they want?" He was wearing a TPU t-shirt and jeans, and it made him look kind of hot. Hot for a redheaded vampire, anyway. And he had a nice, if absent, smile. She wasn't his type. As far as Claire knew, Sam was still totally in love with Amelie, a concept she found harder to wrap her brain around than curved surface string theory.
He was still waiting for an answer. She scrambled to put one together. "There's a dead girl, she was found in our garbage cans. Amy. Amy Callum?"
Sam's mobile, earnest face took on a grim look. "Dammit. I know the family, they're good folks. I'll stop by and see them. " He sat down and leaned closer, dropping his volume. "She wasn't a vampire kill, I know that much. I'd have heard by now if someone had stepped out of line. "
"No, " Claire agreed. "It sounded like she was killed by one of us. " She realized, with a rush of horror, that he wasn't "us, " exactly, and blushed. "I mean -- one of the -- humans. "
Sam smiled at her, but his eyes were a little sad. "That's all right, Claire, I'm used to it by now. It's an us-and-them town. " He looked down at his hands, loose and relaxed on the table top. "I'm supposed to take you to your appointment. "
"Yeah. " She hastily closed up her books and began loading her backpack. "Sorry, I didn't realize what time it was -- "
"No rush, " he said. Still not looking at her. Very softly, he continued, "Claire. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"What?"
His hand flashed out and grabbed her wrist -- the one with the bracelet hidden under the long sleeve. It dug painfully into her skin. "You know what. "
"Ow, " she whispered, and he let go. "I had to. I didn't have a choice. I had to sign if I wanted to keep my friends safe. "
Sam didn't say anything to that; he was looking at her now, but she didn't dare meet his eyes. She didn't like him knowing about her agreement with Amelie. What if he told Michael? What if Michael told Shane? He's going to find out, sooner or later. Well, she'd much rather it be later.
Sam said, "I know that. I wish you wouldn't do this other thing. With Myrnin. It's -- not safe. "
"I know. He's sick or something. But he won't hurt me. Amelie -- "