“Yes,’” Amelie said. “It’s done.’”
Michael walked toward the door. He had to stop and brace himself against the wall on the way, but he looked stronger every second. Stronger than Claire felt comfortable with, in fact.
“Michael,’” Amelie said. “Vampires can be killed, and many know the ways. If you grow careless, you will die, no matter how many laws Morganville holds to protect us from our enemies.’” Amelie glanced at the two girls, standing together in the corner. “Vampires cannot live among humans. It is too difficult, too tempting. You understand? They must leave your house. You must have time to learn what you are.’”
Michael looked at Eve and Claire—more at Claire than Eve, as if he couldn’t stand to really face her yet. He looked more like himself now, more in control. Except for the pale skin, he might nearly have been normal.
“No,’” he said. “This is their home, and it’s my home, and it’s Shane’s home. We’re a family. I’m not giving that up.’”
“Do you know why I stopped you?’” Amelie said. “Why I ordered Sam to stop you? Because your instincts cannot be trusted, Michael, not at this point. You cannot care, because your feelings for them will hurt them. Do you understand? Were you not moving toward these two girls with the intention of feeding on them?’”
His eyes went wide and, suddenly, very dark. “No.’”
“Think.’”
“No.’”
“You were,’” Sam said quietly, from behind him. “I know, Michael. I was there once. And there was no one to stop me.’”
Michael didn’t try to deny it again; he looked at Eve, right at her, with such terrible dawning pain that it hurt to see it.
“It won’t happen again.’” Eve hadn’t said a word since all this had started, so it was a little shocking to hear her say that, so calmly. So…normally. “I know Michael. He wouldn’t have done this if he was going to hurt any of us. He’d die first.’”
“He did die,’” Amelie said. “The human part of him is gone. What is left is mine.’” She said it with a little regret, which didn’t surprise Claire much; she’d seen it in Amelie’s infinitely weary eyes as she’d helped her up. “Come, Michael. You need food. I will show you where to go.’”
“Wait a minute,’” he said. “Please.’” And he stepped away from her, and held out his hand to Eve.
Amelie drew breath to tell him something—probably no—but she didn’t speak. Sam didn’t, either, but he turned and walked away, aimlessly circling the room. Claire reluctantly let go of Eve, and Eve walked directly to Michael, no hesitation at all.
He took both of her hands in his.
“I’m sorry. There wasn’t any other way.’” Michael swallowed, his eyes fixed on Eve’s. “I’ve been feeling it, more and more. Like this—pressure inside. It’s not just that I needed to do this to help Shane. I just…needed it to stay sane. And I’m sorry. You’re going to hate me.’”
“Why?’” Eve asked. It was half bravado, it had to be, but she sounded certain. “Because you’re vamped? Please. I loved you when you were only halfway here at all. As long as you’re with me, I can deal, Michael. For you, I can deal.’”
He kissed her, and Claire blinked and looked away. There was a lot of hunger in that kiss, and desperation, and it was way too personal.
Eve wasn’t the first one to pull away, either.
When he stepped back from her, he was the old Michael after all, never mind the paler skin and the odd shine to his eyes. That smile…he was Michael, and everything was going to be okay.
He wiped away Eve’s silent tears with his thumbs, kissed her again, very lightly, and said, “I’ll be back. Amelie’s right, I need to—’” He hesitated, glanced at Amelie, and then back down at Eve. “I need to feed. I guess I need to get used to saying that.’” His smile looked a little dimmer this time. “I’m going to miss dinners.’”
“You won’t,’” Sam said. “You can still eat solid foods if you want. I do.’”
For some reason, that seemed really important. It was something they could hold on to.
“I’ll make dinner tonight,’” Claire said. “To celebrate getting Shane home.’”
“It’s a deal.’” Michael let go of Eve and stepped back. “I’m ready.’”
“Then come outside,’” Amelie said. “Come back to the world.’”
Michael might have become a vampire, but watching him stand outside in the night air, breathing in his freedom…Claire thought that was as human as it could get.
11
Eve changed into what Claire thought of as “Goth camo’”…black pants, a black silk shirt with red skulls embroidered at the collar, and a black vest with loads of pockets that could hold things. Things like stakes and crosses, as it turned out. “Just in case,’” Eve said, catching Claire’s look. “What?’”
“Nothing,’” she sighed. “Just don’t use them on Michael.’”
Eve stopped for a second, stricken, and then nodded. She was still getting her head around it, Claire knew. Well, Claire was doing the same thing. She kept expecting to hear Michael’s guitar downstairs; she kept wondering about what time it was. Not dawn yet—she checked the Internet and found out that they still had time, but if Michael didn’t come back soon…
The front door opened and closed. Eve snatched a stake from her pocket, wide-eyed, and Claire motioned to her to stay where she was, then sneaked carefully to the corner.
She nearly ran into Michael, who was moving way more quietly than she was used to. He looked nearly as surprised as she did. Behind him was Sam, but there was no sign of Amelie.
“You okay?’” she asked. Michael nodded. He looked…better, in some strange sort of way. At peace. “Not going to…?’” She mimed fangs in her neck. He smiled.
“No way, kid.’” He ruffled her hair lightly. “There’s a deal on the table for Shane.’”
“A deal?’” Eve sounded tense as she came around into view, and Claire didn’t blame her. Deals hadn’t gone especially well for them so far.
“If we get Monica back safely, Shane goes free. The Morrells still have influence in this town, even with the vamps.’” Of which Michael was one now, but he didn’t seem to be lumping himself in quite yet. “Oliver was willing to trade. Or maybe not willing—convinced.’”
“Shane for Monica? Sweet!’” Eve realized she was holding a stake in her hand, blushed, and put it away. Neither Sam nor Michael seemed all that bothered. “Ah, sorry. Nothing personal…so it’s you two and us against the world, or what?’”
“No,’” Sam said, and looked at Michael. “It’s the three of you. I can’t go with you.’”
“What? But—you—’”
“I’m sorry.’” Sam honestly sounded like he meant it. “Amelie’s orders. Vampires stay neutral—Michael’s the only exception because of his agreement with Amelie. I can’t help you.’”
“But—’”
“I can’t,’” he repeated, with emphasis, and sighed. “You’ll get some help from the human community—that’s all I can tell you. Good luck.’” He started to walk away, toward the door, then turned back. “Thank you, Claire. Eve.’”
“What for?’”
Sam’s smile was suddenly luminous, and it looked just like Michael’s. “You brought me to Amelie. And she talked to me. That counts.’”
There was a story behind that, Claire was sure, full of heartbreak and longing; she could see it, for a second, written all over his face. Amelie? He loved Amelie? That was kind of like loving the Mona Lisa—the painting, not the person. Presuming Amelie even had enough emotion in her to feel something for Sam these days.
Maybe once she had. Wow.
Sam nodded to Michael, equal to equal, and he left, closing the door behind him.
“Hey,’” Eve said. “Did he have an invitation? To get into the house?’”
“He didn’t need one,’” Michael said. “The house adjusted itself once I—changed. Now humans need an invitation. Except for you, since you live here.’”
“Okay, that’s stupid.’”
“It’s Protection,’” Michael said. “You know how it works.’”
Claire didn’t, but she was fascinated. Not the time, though. “Um, he said the town was sending help…?’”