free service, but, Claire reflected, maybe she didn't need more coffee this morning. She was plenty jittery.
They got off of the subject of Myrnin, which was a relief, and onto things Michael liked to talk about, like the new songs he was writing. His demo CD was going to be out in the next two months, and he was supposed to see the packaging for it soon, too. That was cool.
He was telling her all about it when the doorbell rang. Hannah. Claire dumped out the rest of her coffee, told Michael she'd call if anything happened, and bounced.
Hannah was dressed in her cop uniform, looking serious and intimidating, even though she was lounging against a pillar on the porch with her arms folded. She turned her head as Claire came out and locked the door. She'd gathered up her braided hair, tied it, and put it up in a kind of bun; it looked cool, but then, Hannah always looked cool. It was something she just radiated, like body heat. "Morning, Claire."
"Hey." Claire nodded. "Do you want some coffee? We just made a pot."
"I've got some in the car. Let's go." Hannah was already heading down the walk toward her cruiser, so Claire hurried after her, taking two steps for every one of Hannah's longer legs. "Thanks for staying inside."
Claire got in on the passenger side of the police car and put on her seat belt. As Hannah started the car, she said, "What was happening?"
"Where?"
"Over there." Claire pointed in the approximate direction where she'd seen the other police cars. "Something happened."
"Nothing you need to worry about right now." That wasn't like Hannah Moses at all. She was usually relaxed, calm, confident, and she was hardly ever evasive. Now she sounded tense.
Claire tried for humor. "Michael and I had a bet. He said meth lab. I say international spy ring."
"Neither," Hannah said, and pulled the car away from the curb. "What are you going to tell the council?"
"I . . . don't want to talk about it yet."
"You should," Hannah said. "My lover woke up this morning and didn't recognize me."
Claire blinked. "Your . . . what?"
"Yes, get over it, Claire; women older than you have boy-friends. But he didn't know who I was. He said he'd never met me." Hannah was crying. Not a lot, just a shimmer of tears in her eyes, but it was chilling. Claire didn't know what to say. "It lasted a while, and then he was fine. It's been happening all over town, but only to some people. For some it's worse than others, and it doesn't seem to go away. You heard about the murders?" Claire nodded. "Do you know something about what's causing it?"
"I--" Claire swallowed hard. "Maybe. Yeah. I think so." Hannah pressed harder on the gas. "Then let's get you to the council, because I want this stopped. I never want to feel that again, and I never want to work another murder scene like the one I saw last night."
Claire shuddered, and changed the subject. "Is . . . is he human? Your boyfriend, I mean."
"Yeah, he's human. Why?"
"It's not just humans who get it, whatever it is. Vampires do, too." Claire hesitated, then plunged on. "I think Michael forgot who I was this morning. Not for long, just for maybe a minute or two. But I don't think it's the first time he's forgotten."
Hannah looked, if possible, even grimmer. "That's not good news. Not at all."
"I know." Claire couldn't shake the memory of the vampire in the diner, who said the world was wrong, and then tried to kill the first person who came close. What if that happened to Michael? To Oliver? God, to Amelie? "That vampire who went crazy, the one from Marjo's Diner the other night--how long did it take for her to come out of it?"
Hannah gave her a sideways look as she made the last turn toward Founder's Square, and slowed for the security station they had to pass. "She didn't," she said. "Best we can tell, she never will."
Chapter Nine
NINE
Kyle was still in the cage in the middle of the park, heavily guarded; Claire caught a glimpse of the barred square box and the heavy police presence as the car passed the borders of the square, and then took a ramp down to the underground parking beneath the buildings. Hannah had a reserved space, and as they walked toward the elevator it opened with a hiss. One of Amelie's black-suited