steered his car to one of Morganville's two all-night diners. This one was Shane's favorite, Marjo's, although Claire guessed that Marjo herself--the rudest waitress ever--was off duty, since a woman with the nameplate HELEN came to take their orders. She wasn't nearly as rude as Marjo, but she wasn't nice, either. Claire supposed that being nice was against the rules. Or maybe being on the night shift in an all-night diner in Morganville tended to make you bitter.
The food, though, was delicious. Juicy burgers, crisp fries, milk shakes to die for, although Michael skipped that and ordered something in a covered to-go cup that Claire thought was probably not ice cream. The diner was packed with late-nighters . . . college students, although they were pushing the curfew, as well as lots of quiet, pale people who sat in groups and, when they looked at the humans, had a special glitter in their eyes.
Marjo's, like Oliver's Common Grounds, was a place where the two halves of Morganville had a kind of unofficial truce. Besides, who didn't like hamburgers? Vegetarians, Claire supposed. But she didn't think there were any vegetarian vampires. That would be like an atheist priest.
Speaking of priests, Father Joe came in and looked around for a seat. Michael gestured for him to come over, and he did, stopping to say hello to people (and vamps) along the way. Father Joe wasn't a very large man, but he was . . . well, kind of cute. Eve had once had a monster crush on him (check that--from the wide-eyed look Eve was giving him now, she still had one). She'd claimed it was the cassock. Claire thought it was more the wavy red hair and cute smile.
"How's your father, Claire?" Father Joe asked, even before he'd sat down in the chair he'd pulled over to their table. "I was planning to stop by again tonight before I went home."
"He's doing better," she said. "They're taking him to Dallas tomorrow."
Father Joe nodded and sat back as Helen came over to take his order. Not surprisingly, he was having a hamburger, too. Claire wondered why they bothered to even have a menu, really. He favored strawberry milk shakes, which put him in solidarity with Eve. "I'll keep your father in my prayers," the priest said, handing his menu back. "And your mother, of course. And you. I assume you're staying in Morganville?"
Claire sighed. "For now, anyway."
"I hope to see you on Sunday, then, at the evening services. Amelie comes quite often."
Huh, Claire had never considered that Amelie might be a churchgoer. "And Oliver?"
Father Joe chuckled, then sipped on the strawberry milk shake Helen thumped down on the table before him. "Oliver has . . . theological differences with the Roman Catholic Church. He attends a more nondenominational service we hold on Saturdays. Although he usually argues with me about formats."
She could see Amelie in church, but Oliver? Really? That was . . . new.
Father Joe must have seen the confusion in her face, because he said, "Most of them attend some sort of service. After all, in the times they were born and lived, religion was a vital part of life and society. It's a little less so today, but for many of them, it's hugely important to still feel they have a path to God." He grinned. "But I'm off duty right now. Seen any good movies lately?"
"Do not ask Shane," Eve said. "He's got awful taste."
"Are you kidding? That last thing I took you to was totally sick!"
"If you mean, made me throw up, then yeah. Would it kill you to watch something where heads don't explode?"
"Probably not, unless it's one of those movies where everybody's wearing poofy skirts and corsets and nobody does anything. That might actually kill me."
Eve looked at Claire. "Really? Is he running for Worst Boyfriend Ever?"
"In the subcategory of Completely Awesome," Shane said, and stole some of her fries. Eve stabbed at him with a fork, but missed.
The bell over the door chimed, and it wasn't that Claire was really looking, exactly; she was too busy laughing. But something about the woman who came in caught her eye. Maybe it was because she was clearly a vampire, and from the way she dressed and the hair, she'd probably last cared about fashion in the 1940s. She looked eerily out of place here, where most of the vamps were wearing casual, modern clothes, even if their hairstyles seemed a little iffy.
She looked around the diner