Hannah didn’t answer that—didn’t want to, Claire thought. But she had her hand on what Claire had originally thought was some kind of radio on her belt—a black box with buttons along the top and a flickering green light.
Maybe it wasn’t a radio after all.
“Michael Glass,” Hannah said. She didn’t raise her voice, but then, in a mall full of vampires, she really didn’t need to do that. “We’re here for Michael Glass. Michael, step forward, please.”
He didn’t. Amelie did.
It was as if somehow the shadows parted around her, but Claire knew that wasn’t the case; Amelie had simply moved forward without seeming to move at all, and suddenly she was standing at the edge of the tiles, her pointed-toe pumps lined up very precisely with the boundary. The Founder of Morganville was dressed in impeccable white, impossibly clean and pure in the dirty, yellowed glow. Her pale silvery eyes seemed almost colorless, and from experience Claire knew that meant Amelie was at her most dangerous.
“What do you want with Michael?” she asked. Her hands were folded in front of her, a calm, resting position, and her body language was watchful.
“Eve wants to see him, to be sure he’s all right.”
That made Amelie smile, just a little. It was a shivery kind of expression, and she lowered her chin just enough to make it seem terrifying. “Yes, I’m sure all of you are simply brimming with concern for our well-being.”
“He’s my husband!” Eve said sharply. “Look, I just had to fight to get this far. Don’t be a jerkface, Amelie.”
That broke Amelie’s concentration, and she looked a little puzzled as she worked out the word. “Jerkface?” she said slowly, as if testing the syllables. “Ah. You think I am the one at fault? You have quite a lot to learn, Eve. But if you wish to see Michael, I will send him out—as soon as Chief Moses assures me that he will remain unharmed and will be returned in the same state.”
“Returned to you? What about to me?”
“It’s clear you don’t understand the slightest thing about what is happening in Morganville,” Amelie said. “So I will forgive you for not comprehending how much danger you put Michael in by separating him from my protection.” She nodded slightly, and on the other side of the atrium, Oliver stepped up. He was holding Michael by the arm. Michael broke free, and for just a heartbeat Claire saw him clearly in the dim light: a shock of golden hair wild around his face, clear blue eyes fixed on Eve. Of all of them, he looked the least like a vampire, except for the pallor of his skin. He looked like a Renaissance angel come to life, if angels wore jeans and witty T-shirts.
He was wearing something black around his throat, and for a second Claire thought it was one of Eve’s chokers, the dog-collar type, though that would be a strange thing for him to put on. She could barely see it, and then he was a blur, heading at vamp speed across the tiles.
Hannah pressed a button on the box on her belt, and Michael stopped. No, not just stopped—he broke stride, stumbled, and fell to his knees, shaking. “Slowly,” Hannah said. “Don’t make me take it up to the next level, Michael. Move slowly.”
“Yes,” Amelie said from the shadows. “Pray do as she says, Michael.”
Eve, after a white-hot glare at Hannah, threw herself out into the open space and down next to Michael. “What did you do to him?” she demanded. “He’s hurt! Michael, baby, are you okay? Michael!”
“He’s fine,” Hannah said, and took her finger off the button. “No permanent damage, I promise. But I have to make sure everybody obeys the rules. It’s the only way this works.”
The vampires hadn’t moved, but there was a new feeling in the air, Claire thought. A kind of tension that was reinforced by what sounded almost like a low whisper of sound.
A growl.
“I’m fine,” Michael said. He sounded shaky, but he wrapped his arms around Eve and held on tight. “God, there you are. All in one piece. I was so worried.”
“Me? I’m not the one who got an arrow to the chest, bucko.”
“I didn’t know what happened to you.” He raised his hands to cup her face, and brushed her black hair back. It was growing longer again, and she hadn’t braided it, so it fell in a sleek curtain. “I was so scared they’d—they’d done something to you. Not hurt?”
“Just my feelings,” Eve said. “Seeing as how our old friend there stuck a knife between our collective shoulder blades.” She followed her statement up with a rude gesture, to which Hannah didn’t bother to react. “Honey—” She reached out toward the collar around his neck. He captured her hands in his and held on when she tried to pull away. “Honey, what is that thing around your neck?”
“Shock collar,” Shane said. “Isn’t it, Hannah? Like you’d put on a dog. You’ve got them on all of them.”
“We have to maintain order,” Hannah replied. “It’s the least violent way we could come up with to do it. They need to stay inside this building for their own protection, and we need to have order for the safety of my officers.”
Amelie had the same collar on, Claire realized. So did Oliver, standing with his graying hair loose and wild around his shoulders.
And where was Myrnin? Her heart skipped a beat and then sped up. She didn’t see him anywhere. Surely he’d be here if he was able to, which meant that he wasn’t able to make an appearance. That something had gone wrong with him.
Michael had steadied by now, and he kissed Eve’s hands and then leaned forward to press his lips to hers—a soft, gentle sort of kiss that made her let out a cry when it was over, and bury her face in the crook of his neck. He held on to her, but his blue eyes remained fixed on Hannah. Hard to read his expression. Claire had never seen him look quite that closed off. “Eve can’t stay here,” he said. “You can’t let her stay here with me, you know that. Not even if she wants to.”
“I wouldn’t,” Hannah said. “I know how dangerous it would be, even if she refuses to admit it.”
“Are you crazy?” Eve said. Her voice was muffled against his shoulder, but Claire still heard it clearly. “No, I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not letting you stay trapped in here without me. They don’t get to put you in some kind of—vampire petting zoo. You’re coming home where you belong. With us. With me.”
“He can’t,” Amelie said. “If he leaves this place, he will be killed. Not by us, of course. By those who are our . . . protectors.” The irony of that wasn’t lost on her, Claire thought, noticing the twist of her lips. The taste of it must have been bitter.
“Is that true?” Shane turned to look at Hannah, but she continued to do a middle-distance stare. “Hey. Talking to you, lady!”
“I heard you,” she said. “He’s right that it isn’t safe for vampires outside of this enclave.”
“Enclave?” Claire heard the outrage in her own voice, even though she tried to hold it back. “I don’t care what kind of cool name you want to give it to make yourself feel better. It’s a prison camp.”
“They’re here for their own protection.”
“Bullshit!” she spat back, and Shane put his hand on her shoulder. It surprised her enough to stop her from uttering the rest of what she’d been about to say, which probably wouldn’t have been quite so nice.
“Claire,” he said, “let’s take a breath. Maybe—maybe this isn’t a bad thing.”
“What?”
“Maybe we need to just think a little more,” he said. “I mean, having vampires obeying the rules . . . what’s so wrong with that? They damn sure don’t obey any unless they’re scared of something. Not even the rules they make themselves. Right, Amelie?”