The Dead Girls' Dance (11 page)

Monica, Gina, and Jennifer were leaning on the bar, blocking coffee pickup. The counter was all that separated them from Eve, who was steadily ignoring them.

“Hey, Walking Dead, I'm talking to you,'” Monica was saying. “Is it true your brother tried to kill you?'”

“Yeah, was that before or after he tried to do you?'” Hand gestures and everything. Wow, that was low even for Jennifer.

“Tried?'” Gina snickered. “That's not what
I
heard. I heard they were getting it on all through high school. No wonder they both turned out to be freaks.'”

Eve's face was a still white mask, but her eyes…she looked crazy. In control, but just barely. Her hands were steady as she pulled espresso shots and mixed drinks; she thumped the finished products down on the counter, three across, and said, “If you don't go away, I'm going to call my manager.'”

“Ooooh,'” Monica said. “Your
manager
. Wow, I'm terrified. You think some barely-over-minimum-wage brain donor stupid enough to work
here
is going to scare me? Do you?'” She leaned to the side, trying to catch Eve's eyes. “I'm talking to you, freak face.'”

Gina noticed Claire standing a few feet away, and drew Monica's attention with a hand on her shoulder. “Two freaks for one,'” she said. “They must be having some kind of special.'”

“Claire.'” Monica's smile widened. “Sure, why not? You angry I'm ragging on your little lesbo girlfriend?'”

“Make up your mind,'” Claire said. Her voice sounded low and kind of cool, actually. Maybe it was easier doing this here in public, where she felt more comfortable. Or maybe she was actually getting used to facing down Monica. “Are we gay, or did she sleep with her brother? 'Cause you know, kind of not making much sense.'”

Monica actually
blinked
. Logic wasn't her strong suit, anyway. Claire could almost see the
Don't confuse me with facts
flicker across her brain. “You laughing at me?'”

“Yeah,'” Claire said. “A little.'”

Monica smiled. A big, genuine smile. “How about that?'” she said. “Claire's grown a pair. I guess having a badass Protector hanging over your shoulder must be a real comfort.'” She threw a glance at Eve. “But it won't last. My family means something around here. You freaks are just temporary. And…sad.'”

She flipped her hair back over her shoulders, picked up her latte, and walked away. Guys' heads turned as she passed, with Gina and Jennifer in a flying-V formation behind her.

“Huh,'” Eve said as she wiped down the machines with maybe a little bit more force than was necessary. “She doesn't usually back down that easily.'”

“Maybe she's got class.'”

Eve snorted. “Trust me,'” she said. “That girl's got no class at all.'”

 

“How weird is it that we have our own personal cop limo service?'” Eve asked. She and Claire were standing on the sidewalk in front of the UC, and the campus looked mostly deserted—it was seven o'clock, and the sky had darkened to a deep twilight. There were even a few premature stars out already. The sun had just gone down, and there was still a fiery orange and yellow glow on the western horizon. “I mean, it's not like I don't have a car. I can drive.'”

“I don't think they'll keep it up,'” Claire offered. “I mean, it's just a special thing. Until they catch—whoever killed that girl.'”

Eve sighed and didn't answer. A blue car turned and cruised around the circular drive, pulling to a halt in front of them. Joe Hess was driving, and Travis Lowe got out and opened the back door with a dumb-looking overdone bow. It was kind of cute, actually. Claire climbed in and slid over, and Eve got in next to her.

“Hello, girls,'” Hess said, and turned to look back at them. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he seemed like he hadn't slept at all. “Thanks for the coffee.'”

Claire and Eve looked at each other. “Sorry,'” Eve said. “I always smell like coffee; it's the perfume of the barista. I didn't actually bring any for you. But if you want, I'll go back and—'”

“No way,'” Lowe said as he got into the shotgun seat. “Dark already. Let's get you gals home. Joe and me, we'll grab some later.'”

“Thank you,'” Claire said. “For the ride.'”

Neither of the cops answered. Detective Hess drove the other half of the circle, turned out onto the campus main drag, and within two blocks was off campus and into the dark Morganville night. Most shops were tightly closed already. As they passed Common Grounds, Claire and Eve both looked. It was full, of course, an oasis of light in the dark, empty street. No sign of Oliver. No sign of Shane's dad, either, which made Claire's conscience twinge hard.
I need to tell Shane. Soon.
She didn't see how blabbing it to Eve would help, except to make Eve even more worried. And from the pensive way Eve was staring out into the dark, there was enough of that going on already.

They were only one block from the house when a sleek black car—with tail fins, like a shark—pulled in front of them and, with shocking speed, turned sideways. Hess jammed on the brakes, and the sound of screeching tires was like a banshee's wail. He didn't hit the other car…quite. Claire thumped back against the vinyl upholstery, panting from shock, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with Eve.

In the front seat, Hess and Lowe were doing the same things. Only with a full helping of grim, and a side of tense.

“What's happening?'” Eve asked, and leaned forward. “Detectives?'”

“You stay here,'” Hess said, and popped his door. “Trav. Stay with them.'”

“Joe—'”

“I'll be fine.'” He got out, slammed the door, and walked toward the other car. A dark-tinted window rolled down, and in the glare of the headlights, Claire saw a dead-pale face she recognized.

“Hans,'” she whispered. The vampire detective. She looked at Detective Lowe, and saw something strange; he had his gun out, held in his lap. And a cross in his left hand. “Right? It's Hans.'”

“You girls stay put,'” Lowe said. His eyes didn't move from the scene playing out in front of him. “Just a routine check.'”

Claire didn't know much about police procedure, but she was pretty sure it wasn't routine for one cop to block another one off in the road, right? Not even here.

And it wasn't routine procedure for a detective to have his gun out, either.

Whatever conversation Hess was having, it wasn't making him happy. It was also short. He shook his head a couple of times and then finally nodded.

As he walked back to the car, Claire had a real bad feeling. His expression was too serious and too angry for it to be good news.
Shane. Oh God, maybe it's about Shane—something's happened to Shane….

Hess opened the back door—Claire's side—and leaned in. “Girls,'” he said. “You're going to have to come with me.'”

“The hell?'” Lowe barked. “I thought we were taking them home.'”

“Change of plans,'” Hess said. He was trying not to look angry, or worried, but Claire could still see it in his eyes. “You're wanted downtown, girls. I'll come with you. Trav, I need you to take the car in.'”

The two men exchanged a long look, and then Lowe let out a slow breath. “Right,'” he said. “Sure. You look after them.'”

“You know I will.'”

Claire got out of the car, feeling more exposed and vulnerable even than usual. Hess was right there, big and comforting, but still…she saw Hans's eyes on her, and it made her feel cold.

His partner, Gretchen, got out of the passenger side and came around to open the back door. “In,'” she snapped. Claire swallowed hard and moved forward, but Eve got there first, sliding inside and all the way across. Hess followed Claire. When Gretchen slammed the door, the three of them barely fit in the backseat.

“You all keep your mouths shut until you're asked to speak,'” Hans said, and put the car in gear as Gretchen got back in. He turned the big car with a squeal of warm rubber and accelerated fast down the street.

They passed 716 Lot Street. All the lights were on, and the door was open, and someone was standing in the doorway, watching them roar by. It was too quick to tell whether it was Shane or Michael, but Claire hoped it was Shane.

She hoped that if something happened, she at least had gotten to see him before the end.

 

“I thought we were going to the police station,'” Eve whispered as the car took some turns and wound through the confusing maze of streets.

“We're not?'” Claire whispered back.

“Passed it back there. I guess we're going somewhere else.'” Eve sounded flat-out scared, and when Claire reached over, she found Eve's hand was cold and shaking. They held on to each other as the car made more turns, and then slowed for some kind of barricade. “Oh
God
. We're going to the square.'”

“The square?'”

“Founder's Square. It's, like, vamptown this time of night.'” Eve swallowed and gripped Claire's hand more tightly. “I'm trying to think of any way this could be a good thing.'”

“Hush,'” Detective Hess said quietly. “You're okay. Trust me.'”

Claire did. She just didn't trust the two vampire detectives sitting in the front seat, who were obviously more in charge.

The barricade lifted. Hans drove them through, brought the big car to a stop in an unlit parking lot, and turned to look at them. Claire first, then Eve. Hess, last of all.

Gretchen turned, too. She was smiling.

“Something we want you to see,'” Hans said. Gretchen exited the car and opened the back door on Eve's side. “Out.'”

They clambered out into the cooling night air. The moon was up, casting a sickly yellow glow that didn't illuminate much. The dark seemed very deep, even though there was still some indigo lining the horizon. Not even really full night yet…

A cold, strong hand closed over Claire's upper arm. She squeaked breathlessly, and heard Eve making a sound of surprise, too. Gretchen had somehow gotten between them, holding them both by the arms.

Hans threw a look at Detective Hess. “Stay with the car,'” he said.

“I'm coming with the girls.'”

“You're taking orders like a good little neutral,'” Hans said. “Unless you want to lose that status for both you and your partner. This isn't some minor incident. This has the attention of the Elders. If the girls don't cause trouble, they'll come back unharmed, but
you stay here
.'”

Gretchen said, “No, Hans. Let him come. It'll be good for him to attend.'”

Hans frowned at her, then shrugged. “Fine. But get in the way, Hess, and you're meat.'”

Gretchen hustled the girls forward.

“What's going on?'” Eve asked. Neither of the vampires answered. Claire turned her head and saw that Hess was behind them, but somehow, that didn't give her all that much comfort. Gretchen frog-marched them around the corner of a blank-faced brick building, and into…

A park.

Claire blinked, surprised, because this was actually very…nice. Green grass, big shady trees rustling in the darkness. There were lights, too, strung through the tree branches and shining on flowers and bushes and walking paths.

The area that bordered the park was more alive than anything she'd seen yet in Morganville. Where the stores bordering the campus were run-down and dingy, the ones facing the square were shining, polished, beautifully maintained. Beautiful in an old-world kind of way, all stone and marble and pillars. There were gargoyles, too, built onto the roofs as drain spouts.

It looked like pictures Claire had seen of old European towns, only…nicer.

Every business facing the square was open. Two outdoor restaurants were serving, and the smell of roasting meats and fresh bread made Claire's mouth water. All she'd really had for the day was coffee, and that was long gone.

And then she remembered what Eve had said. If downtown at night was vamptown, why the restaurants?

She knew when they passed close to one of them. There were groups dining, mixed vampire and human; the vampires had plates of food and were eating just as enthusiastically as the humans. “You eat!'” Claire blurted, astonished. Gretchen glanced at her with those cold, alien eyes.

“Of course,'” she said. “It provides us no nutrition, but the taste is still attractive. Why? You'll find that poisons will do you no good, if you're searching for a way to kill us.'”

Claire hadn't even thought that far, actually. She was just…weirdly intrigued.

The stores they passed were incredible. Jewelers, with displays of gems and gold. Book dealers carrying ancient volumes as well as new best sellers. Clothing stores, lots of them, with tasteful and expensive styles. It was like a rich neighborhood from a major city, like Dallas or Houston or Austin, had been transplanted directly in.

Weird.

And all the shoppers were vampires. In fact, there were lots of them around, more than Claire had ever imagined lived in Morganville; the more she saw, the more scared she felt. They were staring at her and Eve like the girls were cows on the way to the slaughterhouse, and she felt horribly alone.
I want to go home. I swear, if you let me get out of this, I'll move back with Mom and Dad. I'll never leave again….

Gretchen steered them toward a black marble building with gold lettering at the top.
ELDERS' COUNCIL,
it said.

“It's okay,'” Hess said quietly from behind them. “You'll be okay, girls. Just cooperate. If they ask questions, tell the truth.'”

Claire barely felt her feet on the polished black marble steps. It was a little like moving in a dream, helpless and numb, but Gretchen's grip on her arm was all too real. And painful. Ouch. Bruises later.