Claire looked down the hall at Shane. He was frozen in place, mouth open, looking like a cartoon of himself. Eve, too, from her angle.
Claire walked over, held out a hand to Michael, and said, "Well, I guess that settles things."
He gave her a filthy, wordless look, and took her hand to pull himself up. He staggered and leaned against the wall for support, shaking his head when she tried to help. "In a minute," he said. "Takes a lot out of you."
Eve said, in a high, squeaky, airless voice, "The ghost! You're the ghost Miranda was talking about! Oh my God, Michael, you're the ghost! You bastard!"
He nodded, still concentrating on breathing.
Eve got control of her voice and squealed, "That is without a doubt the coolest damn thing I have ever seen in my entire life!"
Shane looked...pale. Pale and shaken and - how predictable was this? - pissed. Michael met his eyes, and the two of them looked at each other for a long, silent second before Shane said, "This is why you asked me to come back."
"I - " Michael coughed. When he sagged this time, Eve threw his arm around her shoulders. He looked surprised, then pleased. "Not just because - "
"I get it," Shane said. "I get it, man. I do. What the hell happened while I was gone?"
Michael just shook his head. "Later."
No, it wasn't that Shane was pissed after all, Claire realized. He turned away and pounded down the stairs before she could say anything, but she'd seen his eyes. She knew.
He lost Alyssa. Now he thinks he's lost Michael, too. She didn't know how that felt, not really; she could imagine, but she was - she knew it - sheltered. She'd never really lost anybody, not even a grandparent.
Grief was something in TV shows, in movies, in books.
She had no idea what to say to him. She'd thought that he'd just take it in stride, the way Shane seemed to take things, but...
"Claire," Michael said. "Don't let him leave."
She nodded and left Eve supporting Michael in the hallway, the two of them looking surprisingly comfortable with the whole living-dead-not-dead thing. She supposed that if a ghost had to have a girlfriend, well, Eve was just about the best choice there was.
Shane was standing downstairs, just...standing. Not paying much attention to her or anything else. She reached out, ready to tap him on the shoulder, let him know she was here even if she was no help at all, but just then, there was a knock on the front door.
"I swear to God, if that's Miranda - ," he grated. His fists were clenched at his sides.
"No, I think it's for me," Claire said, and darted around him to run down the hallway. She checked the peephole first, and sure enough, there was Oliver, standing on the doorstep and looking uncomfortable.
She supposed he had good reason.... Jeez, hanging around anywhere after dark in Morganville had to be like hanging an EAT ME sign on your back.
She unlocked the door and swung it open.
"I don't have a lot of time," he said. "Where are they? Shane and Eve?"
"Inside," she said, and pulled it open wider, the universal signal for Come in. He didn't. He held up a hand instead, waved it in the air in front of him with a puzzled frown. "Oliver?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to ask me in," he said. "It seems this house has some very detailed Protections in place. I can't come in unless you ask."
"Oh. Sorry about that." She was about to ask him inside when it occurred to her that maybe it wasn't the best idea, just asking people in without okaying it with the rest of the Glass House first. Especially since she was living here only another day. "Um, can you wait just a second?"
"No, Claire, I really can't," Oliver said impatiently. He was still wearing the hippie gear from Common Grounds, but somehow he looked...different. Odd. "Please invite me in. I don't have time to wait."
"But I - "
"Claire, I can't help you if you won't trust me! Now quickly, before it's too late, let me in!"
"But I - " She pulled in a deep breath. "All right. I invite you - "
"No!" It was a roar from behind her, absolutely terrifying, and she threw herself to one side and covered her mouth with both hands to hold in her scream. It wasn't Shane bearing down on her; it was Michael.
Shane was behind him, and Eve. "Claire, get back!"
Michael looked like an avenging angel, and nobody argued with angels. Claire scurried backward, still holding her hands over her mouth, as Michael strode past her, right up to the doorway. The edge of his territory.
Oliver looked disappointed but, she saw, not particularly surprised. "Ah, Michael. Good to see you again. I see you're surviving nicely."
Michael didn't say anything, but from Claire's vantage point to the side, she saw the look he was giving Oliver, and it frightened her. She hadn't thought Michael could get that angry.
"What do you want here?" he asked tightly. Oliver sighed.
"I know you won't believe me," he said, "but in truth, I had the best interests of your young friend at heart."
Michael laughed bitterly. "Yeah. I'll bet."
"Also your friend Shane - " Oliver's eyes darted past Michael to lock on Shane, then Eve. "And of course my dear sweet Eve. Such a fine employee."
Michael turned slowly to look at Eve, whose eyes were wide with what Claire hoped was horror. Or at least confusion. "You know each other?" Eve blurted. "But - Michael, you said you didn't know Oliver, and - "
"I didn't," Michael said, and turned back, "until he killed me. We were never formally introducted."
"Yes," Oliver said, and shrugged. "Sorry about that. Nothing personal about it; it was an experiment of sorts that didn't quite work out. But I'm pleased to see you survived, even if not quite in the form that I'd hoped."
Michael made a sound Claire hoped never to hear again from any person, living or dead. It was Eve's turn to clap her hands over her mouth, then quickly take them away to yell, "Oh my God! Oliver!"
"We can discuss my moral shortcomings later," he said. "For now, you need to let me inside this house, and as quickly as possible."
"You have got to be kidding," Michael said. "I think one of us dead in here is good enough. I'm not letting you in to kill the rest."
Oliver studied him silently for a long moment. "I'd hoped to be able to avoid this," he finally said. "Your little Claire is quite the prodigy, you know. She says she's found the book. I think she has quite a promising future in Morganville...provided she survives the night."