Feast of Fools Page 0,19

through the Council." Dr. Mills cocked his head and looked at her again, brown eyes bright and challenging. Like Myrnin's, only not half as crazy. "About my request to tour the lab where you made the crystals . . ."

"Sorry, I can't."

"Perhaps if you checked with Amelie - "

"I did."

He sighed. "Then when can I examine our patient?"

"You don't."

"Claire, this will not work if I can't take baseline readings on the patient and determine what the measurable improvements are as we change the formula!"

She did see that, actually, but the thought of putting nice Dr. Mills in grabbing distance of Myrnin made her shiver. "I'll check," she promised, and got to her feet. "I'm sorry, it's getting late. I need to - "

Dr. Mills glanced at his office window. Outside the blinds, the sky was darkening from faded denim to indigo. "Of course. I understand. Here's a sample of the new batch of crystals. But before you give it to him, see if you can get baseline information - most importantly, a blood sample."

"A blood sample," she repeated. He opened a drawer and handed her a small, sealed kit. It had a syringe, gauze pads, alcohol wipes, and a couple of vacuum tubes. "You're not serious."

"I'm not saying it might not be difficult, but if you won't let me go with you to do it . . ."

She could do a lot of things, but she was pretty sure she couldn't hold Myrnin down and stick a needle in his vein. Not while he was . . . altered.

She took the kit and put it in her backpack. "Anything else?"

Dr. Mills passed her a gun - a dart gun. He opened the back to show her the fluffy end of the tube. "It's preloaded with one dose," he said. "I only made up a few - it takes some time to distill. Here are two extra, if you need them." As she stowed the gun in her backpack, he said, "It's untested. So be careful. I think it will be stronger and longer lasting, but I'm not sure about the side effects."

"And the crystals?"

He passed them over, too. They looked a little finer than the ones she'd developed - more like raw sugar. Those went into the backpack, as well.

"Claire," he said, as she hoisted the burden, "have you heard any rumors about a new vampire in town?"

She froze. Her gold bracelet, the one with Amelie's symbol etched on it, caught the light and glittered - not that she needed the reminder.

"Just Michael," she said. "But that's not news."

"I heard there were strangers."

Claire shrugged. "Guess you heard wrong."

She left before she had to lie any more. She couldn't stop herself from glancing back at him. He nodded and smiled a good-bye.

She felt bad, but there was only so much truth she was prepared to give, even to somebody who came recommended by Amelie.

"Did you bring the hamburger?"

Claire didn't even have time to drop her backpack on the hallway floor at home before Eve had buzzed in on her like a dark, caffeine-fueled Tinkerbell, brandishing a wooden spoon.

"Uh - what?"

"Hamburger. I sent you a text."

Oops. Claire dug her phone out and saw that, sure enough, there was a flashing message icon. "I didn't get it. Sorry."

"Crap." Eve turned away and marched back down the hall, Doc Martens boots clomping with fine disregard for the safety of the wood floor. "Michael! Guess what? You're running errands!"

Michael was playing guitar - something fast and complicated. He stopped periodically, which was unusual for him, and he ignored Eve, which wasn't normal, either. As Claire rounded the corner, she saw him standing up at the dinner table, leaning over to jot down music on a lined page.

Turned out that he wasn't ignoring Eve so much as not obeying. "I'm busy," he said, frowned at the paper, and played the same phrase again, then again. Shook his head in frustration and erased notes on the paper. "You and Shane go."

"I'm cooking!" Eve rolled her eyes. "Creative people. They think the world stops when they think."

"I'll go," Claire said. The chance to be alone with Shane, even on something as boring as a trip to the all-night grocery, was too good to miss. "Better if I do, anyway. I've got the free pass." She held up the bracelet.

Michael pulled himself away from the music in his head long enough to give her a look. He tapped his pencil in a fast, complicated rhythm on the table.