Lord of Misrule Page 0,59

way. Rather curious. I remember how it felt before, like an overwhelming panic. As for those others, well. They're not of the blood."

"They're not?"

"No. Lesser creatures. Failed experiments, if you will." He looked away, and Claire had a horrible suspicion.

"Are they people? I mean, regular humans?"

"A failed experiment," he repeated. "You're a scientist, Claire. Not all experiments work the way they're intended."

Myrnin had done this to them, in his search for the cure to the vampire disease. He had turned them into something that wasn't vampire, wasn't human, wasn't--well, wasn't anything, exactly. They didn't fit in either society.

No wonder they were hiding here.

"Don't look at me that way," Myrnin said. "It's not my fault the process was imperfect, you know. I'm not a monster."

Claire shook her head.

"Sometimes, you really are."

Eve was fine--tired, shaking, and tear streaked, but okay. "He didn't, you know," she said, and made twofinger pointy motions toward her throat. "He's kind of sweet, actually, once you get past all the crazy. Although there's a lot of the crazy."

There was, as Claire well knew, no way of getting past the crazy. Not really. But she had to admit that at least Myrnin had behaved more like a gentleman than expected.

Noblesse oblige. Maybe he'd felt obligated.

The place he'd kept Eve had once been some kind of storage locker within the plant, all solid walls and a single door that he'd locked off with a bent pipe. Shane hadn't been all that happy about it. "What if something had happened to you?" he'd asked, as Myrnin untwisted the metal as though it were solder instead of iron. "She'd have been locked in there, all alone, no way out. She'd have starved."

"Actually," Myrnin had answered, "that's not very likely. Thirst would have killed her within four days, I imagine. She'd never have had a chance to starve." Claire stared at him. He raised his eyebrows. "What?"

She just shook her head. "I think you missed the point."

Monica tagged along with Claire, which was annoying; she kept casting Shane nervous glances, and she was now outright terrified of Myrnin, which was probably how it should have been, really. At the very least, she'd shut up, and even the sight of another rat, this one big and kind of albino, hadn't set off her screams this time.

Eve, however, was less than thrilled to see Monica. "You're kidding," she said flatly, staring first at her, then at Shane. "You're okay with this?" "Okay would be a stretch. Resigned, that's closer," Shane said. Hannah, standing next to him with her shotgun at port arms, snorted out a laugh. "As long as she doesn't talk, I can pretend she isn't here."

"Yeah? Well I can't," Eve said. She glared at Monica, who glared right back. "Claire, you have to stop picking up strays. You don't know where they've been."

"You're one to talk about diseases," Monica shot back, "seeing as how you're one big, walking social one."

"That's not pot, kettle--that's more like cauldron, kettle. Witch."

"Whore!"

"You want to go play with your new friends back there?" Shane snapped. "The really pale ones with the taste for plasma? Because believe me, I'll drop your skanky butt right in their nest if you don't shut up, Monica."

"You don't scare me, Collins!"

Hannah rolled her eyes and racked her shotgun. "How about me?"

That ended the entire argument.

Myrnin, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, watched the proceedings with great interest. "Your friends," he said to Claire. "They're quite . . . colorful. So full of energy."

"Hands off my friends." Not that that statement exactly included Monica, but whatever.

"Oh, absolutely. I would never." Hand to his heart, Myrnin managed to look angelic, which was a bit of a trick considering his LordByrononabender outfit. "I've just been away from normal human society for so long. Tell me, is it usually this . . . spirited?"

"Not usually," she sighed. "Monica's special." Yeah, in the shortbus sense, because Monica was a head case. Not that Claire had time or inclination to explain all the dynamics of the MonicaShaneEve relationship to Myrnin right now. "When you said that someone was calling the vampires together for some kind of fight--was that Bishop?"

"Bishop?" Myrnin looked startled. "No, of course not. It's Amelie. Amelie is sending the call. She's consolidating her forces, putting up lines of defense. Things are rapidly moving toward a confrontation, I believe."

That was exactly what Claire was afraid he was going to say. "Do you know who answered?"

"Anyone in Morganville with a blood tie