He understood then. "Oh. From that boy?"
She nodded, and tears prickled at her eyes again, burning hot. Dad opened his arms and held her tight for a moment, then whispered, "It'll be okay, honey. Don't cry."
"No, it won't," she said miserably. "Not if we don't make it okay, Dad. Don't you understand that? We have to do something!"
He pushed her back to arm's length and studied her with tired, faded eyes. He hadn't been in good health for a while, and every time she saw him, Claire worried a little more. Why couldn't they leave my parents out of this? Why did they drag them here, into the middle of this?
Things had been fine before - well, maybe not fine, but stable. When she'd come to attend college at Texas Prairie University, she'd had to leave the crazy-dangerous dorm to find some kind of safety, and she'd ended up rooming at the Glass House, with Eve and Shane and Michael. Mom and Dad had remained safely far away, out of town.
Or they had, until Amelie had decided that luring them here would help control Claire better. Now they were Morganville residents. Trapped.
Just like Claire herself.
"We tried to leave, honey. I packed your mom up the other night and headed out, but our car died at the city limits." His smile looked frail and broken around the edges. "I don't think Mr. Bishop wanted us to leave."
Claire was a little bit relieved that at least they'd tried, but only for a second - then she decided that she was a lot more horrified. "Dad! Please don't try that again. If the vampires catch you outside the city limits - " Nobody left Morganville without permission; there were all kinds of safeguards to prevent it, but the fact that the vampires were ruthless about tracking people down was enough to deter most.
"I know." He put his warm hands on either side of her face, and looked at her with so much love that it broke her heart. "Claire, you think you're ready to take on the world, but you're not. I don't want you in the middle of all this. You're just too young."
She gave him a sad smile. "It's too late for that. Besides, Dad, I'm not a kid anymore - I'm seventeen. Got the candles on the cake to prove it and everything."
He kissed her forehead. "I know. But you'll always be five years old to me, crying about a skinned knee."
"That's embarrassing."
"I felt the same way when my parents said it to me." He watched as she fiddled with Shane's cross necklace. "You're going to the lab?"
"What? Oh, yeah."
He knew she was lying, she could tell, and for a moment, she was sure he'd call her on it. But instead he said, "Please just tell me you're not going out today to try to save your boyfriend. Again."
She put her hands over his. "Dad. Don't try to tell me I'm too young. I know what I feel about Shane."
"I'm not trying to do that at all," her father said. "I'm trying to tell you that right now, being in love with any boy in this town is dangerous. Being in love with that boy is suicidal. I wouldn't be thrilled under normal circumstances, and this is isn't even close to normal."
No kidding. "I won't do anything stupid," she promised. She wasn't sure she could actually keep that particular vow, though. She'd happily do something stupid if it gave her a single moment with Shane. "Dad, I need to go. Thanks for the necklace."
He stared at her so hard that she thought for a second he'd lock her in her room or something. Not that she couldn't find a way out, of course, but she didn't want to make him feel any worse than she had to.
He finally sighed and shook his head. "You're welcome, honey. Happy birthday. Be careful."
She stood for a moment, watching him play with his piece of birthday cake. He didn't seem hungry. He was losing weight, and he looked older than he had just a year ago. He caught her look. "Claire. I'm fine. Don't make that face."
"What face?"
Innocence wasn't going to work on him. "The my-dad's-sick-and-I-feel-guilty-for-leaving face."
"Oh, that one." She tried for a smile. "Sorry."
In the kitchen, her mom was buzzing around like a bee on espresso. As Claire put the plates in the sink, her mother chattered a mile a minute - about the dress, and how she just knew Claire would look perfect in it, and they really should make plans to go out to a nice restaurant this week and celebrate in style. Then she went on about her new friends at the Card Club, where they played bridge and some kind of gin rummy and sometimes, daringly, Texas Hold 'Em. She talked about everything but what was all around them.
Morganville looked like a normal town, but it wasn't. Casual travelers came and went, and never knew a thing; even most of the college students stayed strictly on campus and put in their time without learning a thing about what was really going on - Texas Prairie University made sure it was a world unto itself. For people who lived here, the real residents, Morganville was a prison camp, and they were all inmates, and they were all too afraid to talk about it out in the open. Claire listened with her patience stretching thin as plastic wrap, ready to rip, and finally interrupted long enough to get in a hasty, "Thanks," and, "Be back soon; love you, Mom."
Her mother stopped and squeezed her eyes shut. "Claire," she said in an entirely different tone - a genuine one. "I don't want you to go out today. I'd like you to stay home, please."
Claire paused in the doorway. "I can't, Mom," she said. "I'm not going to be a bystander in all this. If you want to be, I understand, but that's not how you raised me."
Claire's mom broke a plate. Just smashed it against the side of the sink into a dozen sharp-edged pieces that skittered all over the counter and floor.
And then she just stood there, shoulders shaking.
"It's okay," Claire said, and quickly picked up the broken pieces from the floor, then swept the rest off the counter. "Mom - it's okay. I'm not afraid."
Her mom laughed. It was a brittle, hysterical little laugh, and it scared Claire down to her shoes. "You're not? Well, I am, Claire. I'm as afraid as I've ever been in my life. Don't go. Not today. Please stay home."
Claire stood there for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and dumped the broken china in the trash.
"I'm sorry, but I really need to do this," she said. "Mom - "
"Then go." Her mother turned back to the sink and picked up another plate, which she dipped into soapy water and began to scrub with special viciousness, as if she intended to wash the pink roses right off the china.
Claire escaped back to her room, put the dress in her closet, and grabbed up her battered backpack from the corner. As she was leaving, she caught sight of a photograph taped to her mirror. Their Glass House formal picture - Shane, Eve, herself, and Michael, caught mid-laugh. It was the only photo she had of all of them together. She was glad it was such a happy one, even if it was overexposed and a little out of focus. Stupid cell phone cameras.
On impulse, she grabbed the photo and stuck it in her backpack.
The rest of her room was like a time warp - Mom had kept all her things from high school and junior high, all her stuffed animals and posters and candy-colored diaries. Her Pokemon cards and her science kits. Her glow-in-the-dark stick-on stars and planets on the ceiling. All her certificates and medals and awards.
It felt so far away now, like it belonged to someone else. Someone who wasn't facing a shiny future as an evil minion, and trapped in Morganville forever.
Except for her parents, the photograph was really the only thing in this whole house that she'd miss if she never came back.
And that was, unexpectedly, kind of sad.
Claire stood in the doorway for a long moment, looking at her past, and then she closed the door and walked away to whatever the future held.
Chapter Two
Morganville didn't look all that different now from when Claire had first come to town, and she found that really, really odd. After all, when the evil overlords took over, you'd think it would have made some kind of visible difference, at least.
But instead, life still went on - people went to work, to school, rented videos, and drank in bars. The only real difference was that nobody roamed around alone after dark. Not even the vampires, as far as she knew. The dark was Mr. Bishop's hunting time.
Even that wasn't as much of a change as you'd think, though. Sensible people in Morganville had never gone out after dark if they could help it. Instincts, if nothing else.
Claire checked her watch. Eleven a.m. - and she really didn't have to go to the lab. In fact, the lab was the last place she wanted to be today. She didn't want to see her supposed boss Myrnin, or hear his rambling crazy talk, or have to endure his questions about why she was so angry with him. He knew why she was angry. He wasn't that crazy.