Ghost Town (34 page)

And another blur hit him from the side and knocked him into an uncontrolled slide across the floor toward the other side of the room. Michael, who stood there over Eve, fangs down, looking pale and dangerous and angry. “Your move,” he said. “You hurt her, and I’ll take your arm off and feed it to you.”

“Oh, it’s the littlest vampire,” Myrnin said, and rolled to his feet. “Really? You’re already in love with one of them? That must be some sort of record, boy. Don’t worry. It’ll wear off by dinner-time.”

“Would you
stop
?” Claire yelled at him. “Stop with this cape-twirling stupid
act
? This isn’t you, Myrnin! You’re a good person!” Even as she said it, though, she kept moving toward the bookcase—careful not to look like she had a purpose.

He got to his feet and dusted himself off, with special attention to a spot of dirt on his coat. “Am I really?” he asked. “And how would you know? Oh, yes, you think you know me. I assure you, you don’t. Not at all, little girl.”

“You bit me, once,” she said, and showed him the healed scar on her neck. “And you cared enough to stop.”

“Oh, I think I’d remember something like that. And I can’t think why I’d ever decide to stop drinking from such a delicious fountain,” he said, and without a flicker of warning, he was suddenly coming toward her, a shape that almost disappeared in the dark as he moved between the wall sconces.

She didn’t wait. She whirled, grabbed a glass beaker of something from the worktable next to her, and threw it right in his face. Whatever the liquid was, it surprised him, and it must have hurt, because he gave a choked cry and veered off course to slam into the table and send it, and the glassware on it, crashing to the floor.

“Go!” Shane yelled to Claire, and jumped on Myrnin’s back, trying to pin him down. She couldn’t watch, couldn’t afford a second’s hesitation. She ran for the bookcase, hit it at speed, and sent it squealing out of the way. She already had the keys in her hand, but adrenaline was making her shaky, and it took two tries to get the key into the silver lock on the door. She finally got it open and threw the padlock aside, swung the door open, and stared into the darkness on the other side.

Concentrate.

It was so hard, because she could hear the fighting behind her. Michael and Shane had Myrnin, but he was throwing them all over the place, and glass was breaking, and Eve was screaming, and she had to look back; she
had to
. . . .

Claire closed her eyes and visualized the living room of the Glass House: the sofa, the TV, the table, the bookcases, the guitars, everything all in a rush. When it was stable in her mind, she opened her eyes and sent the image out into the dark.

Yes!

Colors swirled like ink in water, and started to make an image in the darkness. It was the Glass House. She’d gotten it right.

Frank Collins was standing on the other side. She raised a hand to tell him to come through. He jumped, and she felt the stir of air against her face as he passed her, heading for the fight. Then West came through with the bow. Rudolph was following her—

Something hideously strong grabbed her from behind, and she lost control of the portal. Rudolph screamed, and something terrible happened to him as the opening snapped shut—she didn’t know what; she couldn’t see; there was a hand over her eyes and her mouth; she couldn’t breathe, and the hand was cold, very cold. . . .

Myrnin’s voice whispered in her ear, “Checkmate, little pawn. Your move.”

FIFTEEN

H
e took the hand off her eyes and wrapped his other arm around her waist, holding her tight against him. “Stop,” he said to the others. Claire opened her eyes to see Shane getting up from the floor, wiping blood from his eyes. He looked dizzy, but focused. Eve was standing frozen about twenty feet away, terrified and unsure. Michael was down with a wooden stake in his chest—
oh, God
, that could kill a young vampire if it was in long enough—and Frank Collins was slowly circling around, staring at Myrnin and Claire with the intensity of a hunting tiger.

West, the only other member of their backup who’d made it through alive, had her bow drawn and was standing with an arrow pointed at Myrnin’s chest. The only problem was that Claire’s own chest was actually in the way.

“Help Michael,” Claire said. Myrnin’s hand closed around her throat, choking off her words, but Shane seemed to understand, and went to pull the stake out of Michael’s chest. Their friend rolled on his side, coughing, weak and not able to even try to get up.

Shane held the stake in his fingers and twirled it restlessly, staring at Myrnin now with the exact same expression his father had.

“Let the kid go,” Frank said. “You know how this is going to end. It’s just a matter of how bloody you want to make it.”

“Well, friend, I don’t know about your tastes, but I tend to like it
very
bloody,” Myrnin said. He shifted position, dragging Claire along like a rag doll without any effort at all. “Have we been introduced?”

“Probably not. Why, you asking me out, sweetheart?”

“You’re not my type, darling. Is this one yours?”

“No,” Frank said, and looked at Shane, just in a quick flicker. “Let’s say she’s a friend of the family.”

“That’ll do. Now, if you want to keep her breathing, you’ll take all these children and your woman-at-arms—hello, West, how have you been, my dear? Haven’t seen you since Richard was king—and depart gracefully, while you still have the chance, and bring Ada to me. If you do, I may let this one go.”

“Nice offer,” Frank said. “Why exactly should I take it again?”

“Because the boy there wants you to,” Myrnin said. “I can tell. Can’t you? He’s just dying to come over here and save her from the evil, wicked vampire. Well, boy, why don’t you? Don’t you like her?” Myrnin’s hand tightened on her neck. “Come on—tell her how you feel. It’s your last chance, you know, before she dies.”

Don’t
, Claire tried to say, but all that came out was a squeak. She felt a little sick, because she knew what Myrnin was doing, and she hated it.

“Sorry, freak,” Shane said, “but you’ve got a wrong number. I don’t know that chick at all. And the second you kill her, we’ll take you down, so maybe you’d better find a new plan.”

That stung a little, but Claire could see that he was lying, at least about that first part. She could see it in his eyes. It hadn’t been long, but he felt something for her, even if it wasn’t maybe what she felt yet—and she knew Shane. He’d never, ever stand by and just let her be hurt. He wouldn’t do that even if she was a total stranger.

“I think your friend has a hero complex,” Myrnin said in a whisper, right into her ear. “That makes this even more interesting, doesn’t it,
Claire
?”

She felt her heart stutter in her chest.
He knew her.
No—no, wait, he didn’t; he just knew her name. It wasn’t the same Myrnin, not at all.

The grip around her throat eased just a little, and she was able to gasp out, “Myrnin, please stop. Please. You know this isn’t right.”

“You know what isn’t right? Waking up to find everything changed, to find Ada missing, to find humans breaking into my last safe haven intent on destroying what I hold dear? Does that sound right to you?”

“It’s not what you think,” Claire said desperately. “Ada’s not here. She’s not coming back. You have to understand that what’s down there isn’t something you should be protecting; it’s something you have to
stop
!”

He was silent. Frank Collins took a step forward, then stopped, watching Claire’s face. She frantically shook her head.

“You do sound convincing,” Myrnin said. He put his head down, mouth
very
close to the side of her throat, and took in a deep breath. “You do smell familiar, I admit. Your scent is all over the lab, and I confess, I have no explanation for that.”

“Because I work here. For you,” Claire said. “You know that. Myrnin, you have to remember. Please try.”

All of a sudden he let her go and shoved her forward, hard—straight into Shane’s arms. Shane dropped the stake to grab her as she fell, and held on.

Myrnin stood there for a moment, head cocked to one side, staring at the two of them. “I have the oddest feeling,” he said, “that I’ve seen this before. Seen
you
before.”

“You have,” Claire said, and cleared her throat, trying to ignore the ache. “Myrnin, you know us. Stop. Just stop and think, okay?”

He stared at her, and she saw that he was trying—groping for the lost threads of his life. She saw how it frightened him to feel this way, too. Maybe he’d enjoyed it, on some level; maybe it had felt like freedom, not worrying about anyone but himself and Ada.

But that wasn’t him. Not anymore. It hadn’t been for years.

“Claire,” he said, and took a step forward. “Claire, I think . . . I think I . . . forgot something . . . about—I don’t think this is right. I don’t think any of this is right. And I think I know . . . I think I know Ada—”

He stopped and turned to look at the portal an instant before Claire felt the flash of power from it. “No!” he snapped, and stretched out a hand toward the doorway, which was starting to spark and flicker with color. “No one else comes in!”

She couldn’t let him stop this, no matter what happened, but she felt sick about it. She’d been close, so
close
to breaking through . . . and now it was gone again.

Claire scooped up the fallen stake and lunged for his back.

She didn’t make it, of course; Myrnin was too fast, and too alert. He whirled, grabbed her arm, and held the point of the stake an inch from his chest, staring right into her eyes.

“Oh, child,” he said. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

But she’d done exactly what she’d meant to do, and in the next second, power rushed through the room, crackling along her skin, and Amelie stepped through the portal behind Myrnin, shining like a white diamond in the dim light. Behind her came two more vampire guards, and Oliver. But Oliver wasn’t going to be any help, because he was wearing silver chains on his wrists and ankles.

He could hardly stand, Claire realized. He looked
terrible
.

Myrnin forced Claire to drop the stake, and held on to her wrist as he turned to face Amelie, bowing low from the waist. “Founder.”

“Myrnin,” Amelie said, as the portal dissolved into black behind her party. “I seem to have interrupted. I recognize the girl you have in hand, and West, of course.” West, looking very unhappy, loosened the bow and removed the arrow from the string, bowing to Amelie. With a glance at Frank, she walked over to stand with the new arrivals, signaling a change in her allegiance. Amelie fixed her attention on Frank, and then Michael, who was still on the ground. Eve was kneeling next to him, trying to help him get up. “This doesn’t seem to be going well for you, Mr. Collins,” she said. “I suggest you take these children and withdraw while you have the chance.”

“No,” Michael said raggedly, and staggered to his feet.

And Shane said, “We’re not going without Claire.”

“I assure you, boys, you will be going, one way or another,” Amelie said. “Myrnin. Give the girl to me, and I will deal with this intrusion.”

“But—”

“Do you doubt that I will act in the best interests of Morganville?” she asked, holding his gaze. “Have you
ever
doubted that, in all our years together?”

“But they have Ada,” he said, and his voice was small and lost and plaintive. “You have to make them give her back. Please.”

“I will,” Amelie said. “But first, let me have the girl.”

Myrnin nodded and shoved Claire at her.

Claire tried to twist aside, but Amelie, without seeming to move at all, was somehow in the way. She took hold of Claire’s arm in an ice-cold iron grip, and looked at her with even colder eyes. “Be still,” she said. “I’ll deal with you in a moment.” Claire felt her last hope die, because there was no hint of real recognition in Amelie’s face.

Frank said, “You’d better deal with me before you settle with some little schoolkid, or I’ll get offended.”

“You’d better deal with all of us,” Shane said. “I’m not going to let you hurt her.”

“You sound brave, Shane, for someone who doesn’t remember being in my presence before,” Amelie said. “But I won’t hurt her. Or any of you.” She looked at Claire again, and this time there was warmth in her eyes. A kind of comfort. “I assure you, I am fully aware of what I am doing here.”

She remembered.
Relief hit Claire, and she sighed as the tension left her body. Things were still dangerous, no question about that, but with Amelie on their side, surely it was going to be all right. She could convince Myrnin to do the right thing.

“They have Ada,” Myrnin said. “You have to find her. Please.”

Amelie let Claire go and moved her off to the side, out of Myrnin’s reach. “There’s no need,” she said, and the compassion in her voice was a kind of pain all its own. “We both know where Ada is, Myrnin. I know you remember.”

He didn’t move, and didn’t speak, but there was a frantic, feverish glitter in his eyes.

“You’ve been ill. Ada was caring for you, but she fell ill as well. Weakness has always triggered bad things in you, and she grew weak. One day—“

“No,” Myrnin said. It wasn’t so much a denial as a plea for her not to keep talking.

“One day I came here and found her dead. Drained of life.”

“No!”

“It was too late to save her, but you’d tried, once you came to your senses. Heaven knows you’d tried. You did your best to preserve what you could of her—don’t you remember?”

“No, no, no!” Myrnin sank down to a crouch, hiding his face in his hands. “No, it isn’t true!”

“You know it is,” Amelie said, and walked forward to put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “My friend, this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. You become ill, and you forget, and you wait for her to come back. But Ada isn’t coming back, is she? She’s gone.”

“No, she’s not gone,” Myrnin whispered. “I
saved
her. I saved her. She can’t die now. She can’t leave me. She’s safe. I’ll keep her safe. No one can hurt her.”