This plan was clearly news to Eve. “No!”
“Eve, I can do this. Trust me.”
“No, Michael, they already had you once, and—”
“And I know what it’s like,” he said. “That’s why I can’t leave him there, and we don’t have time to beg for help, which Oliver isn’t going to give anyway. Claire was right about that.”
Hannah glanced down at Myrnin. “What about him? Is he helping?”
“He’s helped enough,” Claire said. “He stays here.” Myrnin looked up at that, but she just stared at him, hard, until he looked away. “We don’t need another vampire right now. Agreed?”
“All right,” Hannah said. “It’s a decent rough plan, but you don’t know exactly where he’s being kept, and it’s a large building. You need more boots on the ground—humans, not vampires. I’ll go with you.”
“Hannah,” said the mayor. He sounded tense, and his expression mirrored that. “You can’t. It’s dangerous.”
“Danger’s what you pay me for, Richard,” she said, and smiled at him. There was something a whole lot warmer in that smile, Claire thought, than just a mayor/police chief sort of friendship, and the look in Richard’s eyes confirmed it. “You go on, take care of your sister. I’ll be fine.”
He closed his eyes for a second. “No,” he said. “If you go, I go, too. I’m coming. Monica, just get inside and stay there.”
“No way. I’m not letting you run off to get killed somewhere without me, jackass.”
“Shut up,” Eve said flatly. “We have zero time for you and your bullshit dramatics.”
“Or what, you’ll bleed on me, Emo Princess of Freakdomonia?”
Claire stepped forward and got Monica’s attention. She didn’t know how she looked, but Monica seemed to shift a little, as if she was considering taking a step back. “Fine. You come with us.” At the very least, Monica was a rabbit to throw to the wolves, and she wouldn’t hesitate to do it if it was the difference between life and death for Shane. “If you get in my way, I’ll kill you.” It was glaringly simple to her right now, and she meant it, every bit of it. Monica had never earned herself anything else, and despite all the breaks Claire had been willing to give, and how kind she was deep down, right now all that was gone. Just … gone.
And what was left was something Monica fully understood, all right, because she took a breath and tossed her hair back and nodded. “I’m not getting in your way,” she said. “I’ll help. I owe Shane for something. Besides, who do you know who’s more ruthless than me? Them?” She tilted her head at Michael and Eve, and Claire had to admit she had a point. “It’s just once, and then it’s all square. I’m not your friend. I’m never going to be your friend. But Shane doesn’t deserve to die like that. If he dies, I get to kill him.”
She was perfectly earnest about that, and Claire didn’t have time to untangle the crazy, anyway. She just said, “Fine. Let’s go,” and headed for the armored truck. Michael was already unlocking it. “But you ride in the back, Monica.”
Michael drove, because he was once again the only one with vampire vision; Eve and Claire shared the rest of the front seat, not very comfortably because of the shotguns he’d given them, and Monica, Richard, and Hannah were in the back.
Eve was watching Monica through the narrow window. “If she puts a foot wrong, I am seriously considering playing Shank the Skank,” she said.
“What happened?” Claire asked. “You and Michael—you were convinced he was dead. I saw you. But then …”
“Then Michael overheard Myrnin fessing up to Lord High Inquisitor Oliver, and Oliver mentioned how Shane just might be alive. Which Myrnin already knew.” Eve bared her teeth in a thing that was so not a grin. “Michael decided to have a chat with him. We went to the garage because we figured you’d end up there.” The not-grin faded. “I’m all for having more hands with guns on this, but you sure we can trust Richard Morrell and Hannah Moses? Not to mention Monica?”
Claire shrugged, not really caring right now. “I think that once they’re in it, it’s pretty hard for them to back out,” she said. “I’m not leaving without him, Eve. I can’t. Not again. I don’t care what happens, but I’m not letting him die like that.”
Grief and terror threatened to spill out of the tightly locked container inside her, and Eve grabbed her hand and held on to it, hard. “I know,” she said. “Trust me, I know.” She did. Michael had been taken by the draug, anchored underwater. Fed on.
She knew.
Claire swam up out of her misery long enough to ask, “What about, you know, the two of you? Better?”
Eve cut a glance toward Michael, who was driving and pretending hard not to be hearing any of this. His acting needed work. “Sure,” Eve said, but that wasn’t so convincing, either. “We’re good to go.”
“I’m not asking if you’re good to be working together. I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” Eve interrupted. “Let’s just … talk about it later.”
Michael could not, Claire thought, have looked more tense, or more sad.
Richard and Hannah were having a fierce, whispered conversation in the corner of the truck as they braced themselves against the metal walls, and gripped the panic straps overhead. Monica had apparently decided that she had every right to sit on Amelie’s plush throne, which wasn’t at all a surprise. Claire really hoped that Amelie found out about it later.
That would be fun.
The drive back across town didn’t take long, especially at the speed Michael was driving. Night had fallen hard because the clouds were still hanging heavy over the town, though the rain had stopped. The air still had that moist, unpleasant feel to it, and Claire felt as if she had mold growing on her skin in a sticky, invisible net.
The clock in her head was ticking, and it had been too long, way too long, for Shane already. She closed her eyes and concentrated on him, on somehow reaching him, giving him strength. Stay with me. Please, stay with me. He’d begged her for the same thing, not so long ago, when things had looked darkest. He’d had faith that she’d survived beyond any reasonable evidence to the contrary, and she couldn’t do any less for him. She couldn’t. She couldn’t face the darkness without him by her side.
If she’d ever had any doubts that she loved him, really loved him, she knew now. It was easy to love somebody when love was happy, but when it was hard, when it meant facing things you feared … that was different. He’d done it for her, many times. And now she had to do it for him.
She opened her eyes, feeling calm and centered and focused, as Michael brought the truck to a halt. “Same drill,” he said. “I get out and open the back. Claire, you keep the keys.” He didn’t say, in case I don’t make it back, but that was what he meant. Eve let out a wordless little sound of despair; just for a moment, their gazes locked.
“I still love you,” he said. “I mean it. All of it.”
She didn’t answer, not verbally, but she nodded.
And then he was a blur as he bailed out of the truck.
Tears rolled down Eve’s cheeks, and she whispered, “God, I love you, too.”
Maybe he heard it. Claire hoped so.
Claire climbed out, helped Eve, and by the time she’d made it around to the back, Hannah, Richard, and Monica were out. And Michael was gone. Claire locked the truck again with the remote and stuck the keys in her pants pocket.
Hannah clicked on a heavy flashlight. Eve had one, too. “Richard, I’m with you and Monica. Claire, the cell network should still be working for high-priority users. Call if you find Shane. I’ll do the same. Either way, we’re back here in fifteen minutes.”
I’m not leaving without him, Claire thought, but she didn’t say it. She just nodded and checked her phone. She had a signal. “Good,” she said. “They’d have him in water, right?”