Lord of Misrule Page 0,45

head on her shoulder for a long, precious moment before setting her gently back on her feet.

"Better see who's here," he said, and kissed her very lightly. "Down payment for later, okay?"

Claire let go, but held his hand as they walked down the hallway and into the living room of the Glass House, which was filled with people.

Not vampires.

Just people.

Some of them were familiar, at least by sight--people from town: the owner of the music store where Michael worked; a couple of nurses she'd seen at the hospital, who still wore brightly colored medical scrubs and comfortable shoes. The rest, Claire barely knew at all, but they had one thing in common--they were all scared.

An older, hardlooking woman grabbed Claire by the shoulders. "Thank God you're home," she said, and hugged her. Claire, rigid with surprise, cast Shane a whatthehell look, and he shrugged helplessly. "This damn house won't do anything for us. The lights keep going out, the doors won't open, food goes bad in the fridge--it's as if it doesn't want us here!"

And it probably didn't. The house could have ejected them at any time, but obviously it had been a bit uncertain about exactly what its residents might want, so it had just made life uncomfortable for the intruders instead.

Claire could now feel the airconditioning switching on to cool the overheated air, hear doors swinging open upstairs, see lights coming on in darkened areas.

"Hey, Celia," Shane said, as the woman let go of Claire at last. "So, what brings you here? I figured the Barfly would be doing good business tonight."

"Well, it would be, except that some jerks came in and said that because I was wearing a bracelet I had to serve them for free, on account of being some kind of sympathizer. What kind of sympathizer, I said, and one of them tried to hit me."

Shane lifted his eyebrows. Celia wasn't a young woman. "What did you do?"

"Used the Regulator." Celia lifted a baseball bat propped against the wall. It was old hardwood, lovingly polished. "Got myself a couple of home runs, too. But I decided maybe I wouldn't stay for the extra innings, if you know what I mean. I figure they're drinking me dry over there right now. Makes me want to rip my bracelet off, I'll tell ya. Where are the damn vampires when you need them, after all that?"

"You didn't take your bracelet off? Even when they gave you the chance?" Shane seemed surprised. Celia gave him a glare.

"No, I didn't. I ain't breaking my word, not unless I have to. Right now, I don't have to."

"If you take it off now, you may never need to put it on again."

Celia leveled a wrinkled finger at him. "Look, Collins, I know all about you and your dad. I don't hold with any of that. Morganville's an allright place. You follow the rules and stay out of trouble--about like anyplace, I guess. You people wanted chaos. Well, this is what it looks like--people getting beaten, shops looted, houses burned. Sure, it'll settle down sometime, but into what? Maybe no place I'd want to live."

She turned away from him, shouldered her baseball bat, and marched away to talk with a group of adults her own age.

Shane caught Claire looking at him, and shrugged. "Yeah," he sighed. "I know. She's got a point. But how do we know it won't be better if the vamps just--"

"Just what, Shane? Die? What about Michael, have you thought about him? Or Sam?" She stomped off.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a Coke!"

"Would you--"

"No!"

She twisted the cap off the Coke she'd retrieved from the fridge--which was stocked up again, although she knew it hadn't been when they'd left. Another favor from the house, she guessed, although how it went shopping on its own she had no idea.

The cold syrupy goodness hit her like a brick wall, but instead of energizing her, it made her feel weak and a little sick. Claire sank down in a chair at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands, suddenly overwhelmed.

It was all falling apart.

Amelie was calling the vampires, probably going to fight Bishop to the death.

Morganville was ripping itself in pieces. And there was nothing she could do.

Well, there was one thing.

She retrieved and opened four more bottles of Coke, and delivered them to Hannah, Eve, Shane, and--because it felt mean to leave her out at a time like this--Monica.

Monica stared at the sweating bottle as if she suspected Claire