alone. I want to go home. I swear, if you let me get out of this, Ill move back with Mom and Dad. Ill never leave again.
Gretchen steered them toward a black marble building with gold lettering at the top. ELDERS COUNCIL, it said.
Its okay, Hess said quietly from behind them. Youll be okay, girls. Just cooperate. If they ask questions, tell the truth.
Claire barely felt her feet on the polished black marble steps. It was a little like moving in a dream, helpless and numb, but Gretchens grip on her arm was all too real. And painful. Ouch. Bruises later.
Hans opened the big polished door, and they went inside.
Of all the things Claire expected to see, she somehow hadnt expected a television set, but there one was, tuned to a twenty-four-hour news channel showing flickering pictures of a warbombs exploding, soldiers shooting. And standing in front of it, arms folded, was Oliver. He wasnt wearing his hippie-dippie Coffee Shop Guy clothes; he was wearing a suit, black, tailored, and sharp as a knife. His graying hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, and he was wearing a tie. No, not a tie, exactly. Kind of like a scarf, with a diamond pin through it to hold it in place. Maybe it had been fashionable when Oliver was younger.
Some things never change, he said, staring at the television. People continue to kill over the stupidest possible excuses. And they call us monsters.
On the last word, his gaze snapped to Claire, and she shivered. Oliver had nice eyes, but somehow, they scared her even more than Gretchens ice-cold ones. Maybe it was because she still wanted to like him, no matter what hed done. He killed Michael! she reminded herself. Well, hed mostly killed him, anyway.
Hello, Oliver said to her, and nodded. He moved his stare to Eve. Eve. Weve missed you at the shop.
B Eve swallowed what shed been about to say, which Claire was ninety-nine percent sure was Bite me. Thanks. Which for Eve was amazingly cautious. If anybody had been shocked and angry about Oliver turning out vampire, it had been Eve.
Oliver nodded and walked across the large, empty roomempty except for the silently playing television and thick plush maroon carpetand opened a set of double doors. He wasnt the doorman; he walked on through and into the next room. Gretchen pushed Claire and Eve forward. The carpet was squishy soft under Claires feet, and she caught the scent of fading flowers. Roses. Lots of roses.
It hit her full force when they entered the next room, which was a big circular place with burgundy velvet curtains all around, with pillars in between. A low-key chandelier cast a medium-bright glow. Same carpet, but this room had furniture chairs laid out in neat rows, in three sections with aisles between.
It took Claire a second to realize that she was walking into a funeral parlor. When she did, she stopped, and stumbled as Gretchen continued to drag her relentlessly onward, past the rows of empty folding chairs, all the way to the front, where Oliver was standing near another velvet curtain.
Sir, Joe Hess said, coming out from behind Claire and Eve. Im Detective Hess.
Oliver nodded. I know you.
Shouldnt there be others present here for this? The tension in Hesss voice, and his body, warned Claire that Olivers interrogating them on his own was a very bad thing.
There are others present, Detective Hess, said a light, cool voice from the far corner of the room, which Claire could have sworn was empty one second before. She gasped and looked, and there was Amelie, standing there as if shed been carved in stone before the building came up around her. And her bodyguardsor servantswere standing in a group near her. Shed brought four of them. Claire wondered if that was a signal of how much trouble she and Eve were in.
There is a third coming, Amelie said, and settled herself in a chair as if it were a golden throne. She was wearing black, like Oliver, but her attire was a long elegant suede skirt suit, with a severe white shirt under the tailored jacket. She crossed her legs, which were pale and perfect, and folded her hands in her lap.
Oliver wasnt looking happy. Who are we waiting for? he asked.
You know the laws, Oliver, even if you choose to find ways to cheat them, Amelie said. We are waiting for Mr. Morrell.
They didnt have to wait long; in a matter of