Feast of Fools Page 0,18

that if Claire spilled the beans, she'd end up dead. Or worse.

"Yes," Claire said faintly. "I understand. About my parents - "

"They are safe enough," Amelie said. That wasn't the same thing as saying they were safe. "You will not see Mr. Bishop for the time being. If you happen to see his two associates, be polite, but don't fear; they are well in hand."

Maybe by Amelie's standards. Claire was a little bit more worried. "Okay," she said doubtfully. "If anything happens - "

"Discuss it with Oliver," Amelie said. "Curiously, I find the differences between us lessened dramatically once my sire paid a visit. Nothing like a common enemy to unite squabbling neighbors." She paused for a moment, and then said, almost awkwardly, "You and your friends? You are well?"

We're doing small talk now? Claire shivered. "Yeah, we're fine. Thank you."

"Good." Amelie hung up. Claire mouthed a silent Oooo-kay, and pocketed the phone.

As she was leaving, she saw Eve at the barista station, staring blankly at the levers as she worked. The happy glow hadn't returned. In fact, she looked grim. And scared.

Dammit. Why did I ruin her day like that? I should have just blown him off, the little psycho.

Claire checked her watch, snagged her backpack, and jogged off to her lab class.

When she met Dr. Mills later that afternoon, she did it at the hospital, in his office. He was a medium sort of guy - medium tall, medium age, medium coloring. He had a nice smile, which seemed to promise that everything would be okay, and despite the fact that Claire knew it was total fiction, she smiled back.

"Have a seat, Claire," he said, and indicated one of the blue club chairs in front of his desk. Behind him were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves - medical references in matching bindings, with some newer off-brand volumes thrown in for variety. Dr. Mills had stacks of magazines and photocopied articles on one corner of the desk, and a teetering set of patient files on the other. A framed photo faced away from Claire, so she couldn't see if he had a family. He had a wedding ring, though.

Dr. Mills didn't speak immediately; he leaned back in his leather chair, steepled his fingers, and looked at her for a while. She fought against the urge to squirm, but couldn't keep her fingers from restlessly picking at the fabric of her jeans.

"I knew you were young," he said finally, "but I admit, I'm even more surprised now. You're sixteen?"

"Seventeen in a few weeks," Claire said. She was getting resigned to having this conversation with every single adult in Morganville. She ought to just record it and play it back every time she met somebody new.

"Well, from the notes that Amelie has provided to me, you have a very solid grasp of what you're doing. I don't think I'll be so much directing your research as helping you execute your experiments. Where I see opportunities to add some value, I will. Obviously, the labs here at the hospital have much more sophisticated equipment than I imagine you have - wherever you developed your initial crystals." He flipped through the large folder open in the center of his desk, and Claire saw photocopies of her own neat handwriting. Her notes, which she'd provided to Amelie. "I took the liberty of making up a set of crystals based on your formula, using the facilities in our labs. I found that if you accelerate the drying process with heat, you can increase the strength of the dosage by about twenty percent. And I also created a stronger liquid version that can be delivered directly into the body by injection."

She blinked. "Injection." She tried to imagine getting close enough to Myrnin to stick a needle in his arm, especially when he was in one of his bad swings.

"It can be delivered through a dart," he said. "Like an animal tranquilizer, although I wouldn't use that analogy to anyone else. Wouldn't be respectful."

She managed a smile. "That'd be - very helpful. I didn't try the heating process for drying the crystals. That's interesting."

"No reason you should have. I tried it because I didn't have an unlimited time to dry them - our lab's busy, and I didn't want anyone questioning what I was doing. I've asked Amelie to provide us with some secured laboratory space at the university. More convenient for you, and safer for me. I can have equipment moved there as we need it, or requisition it