Lord of Misrule tmv-5 Page 7

  “Those are vampire cars,” Hannah said. “Why would they leave them here like that?” Oh. That was the odd thing. The tinting on the windows.

  “They needed to pee?” Eve asked. “When you’ve gotta go . . .”

  Hannah said nothing. She was watching out the windows with even more focus than before.

  “Yeah, that is weird,” Eve said more quietly. “Maybe they went to help somebody.” Or hunt somebody. Claire shivered.

  They made their first radio delivery to one of the Founder Houses; Claire didn’t know the people who answered the door, but Eve did, of course. She quickly explained about the radio and the code, and they were back in the car and rolling in about two minutes flat. “Outstanding,” Hannah said. “You girls could give some of my buddies in the marines a run for their money.”

  “Hey, you know how it is, Hannah: living in Morganville really is combat training.” Eve and Hannah awkwardly slapped palms—awkwardly, because Eve kept facing front, and Hannah didn’t turn away from her post at the car’s back window. She had the window rolled down halfway, and the paintball gun at the ready, but so far she hadn’t fired a single shot.

  “More cars,” Claire said softly. “You see?”

  It wasn’t just a couple of cars, it was a bunch of them, scattered on both sides of the street now, engines running, lights on, doors open.

  Empty.

  They cruised past slowly, and Claire took note of the heavy tinting on the windows. They were all the same type of car, the same type Michael had been issued on his official conversion to vampire.

  “What the hell is going on?” Eve asked. She sounded tense and anxious, and Claire couldn’t blame her. She felt pretty tense herself. “This close to dawn, they wouldn’t be doing this. They shouldn’t even be outside. He said both sides would regroup, but this looks like some kind of full-on panic.”

  Claire had to agree, but she also had no explanation. She dug one of the radios out of her backpack, typed in the code that Oliver had given her, and pressed the TALK button. “Oliver? Come in.”

  After a short delay, his voice came back. “Go.”

  “Something strange is happening. We’re seeing lots of vampire cars, but they’re all abandoned. Empty. Still running.” Static on the other end. “Oliver?”

  “Keep me informed,” he finally said. “Count the number of cars. Make a list of license numbers, if you can.”

  “Er—anything else? Should we come back?”

  “No. Deliver the radios.”

  That was it. Claire tried again, but he’d shut off or he was ignoring her. She pressed the RESET button to scramble the code, and looked at Eve, who shrugged. They pulled to a halt in front of the second Founder House. “Let’s just get it done,” Eve said. “Let the vamps worry about the vamps.”

  It seemed reasonable, but Claire was afraid that somehow . . . it wasn’t.

  Three of the Founder Houses were piles of smoking wood and ash, and the Morganville Fire Department was still pouring water on one of them. Eve cruised by, but didn’t stop. The horizon was getting lighter and lighter, and they still had a couple of stops to make.

  “You okay back there?” Eve asked Hannah, as they turned another corner, heading into an area Claire actually recognized.

  “Fine,” Hannah said. “We going to the Day House?”

  “Yeah, next on my list.”

  “Good. I want to talk to Cousin Lisa.”

  Eve pulled up outside of the big Founder House; it was lit up in every window, a stark contrast to its dark, shuttered neighboring residences. As she put the car in park, the front door opened and spilled a wedge of lemon-colored light across the immaculately kept front porch. Gramma Day’s rocker was empty, nodding in the slight wind.

  The person at the door was Lisa Day—tall, strong, with more than a slight resemblance to Hannah. She watched them get out of the car. Upstairs windows opened, and gun barrels came out.

  “They’re all right,” she called, but she didn’t step outside. “Claire, right? And Eve? Hey, Hannah.”

  “Hey.” Hannah nodded. “Let’s get in. I don’t like this quiet out here.”

  As soon as they were in the front door, in a familiar-looking hallway, Lisa slammed down locks and bolts, including a recently installed iron bar that slotted into place on either side of the frame. Hannah watched this with bemused approval. “You knew this was coming?” she asked.

  “I figured it’d come sooner or later,” Lisa said. “Had the hardware in the basement. All we had to do was put it in. Gramma didn’t like it, but I did it, anyway. She keeps yelling about me putting holes in the wood.”

  “Yeah, that’s Gramma.” Hannah grinned. “God forbid we should mess up her house while the war’s going on.”

  “Speaking of that,” Lisa said, “y’all need to stay here, if you want to stay safe.”

  Eve exchanged a quick glance with Claire. “Yeah, well, we can’t, really. But thanks.”

  “You sure?” Lisa’s eyes were very bright, very focused. “Because we’re thinking maybe these vamps will kill each other off this time, and maybe we should all stick together. All the humans. Never mind the bracelets and the contracts.”

  Eve blinked. “Seriously? Just let them fight it out on their own?”

  “Why not? What’s it to us, anyway, who wins?” Lisa’s smile was bitter and brief. “We get screwed no matter what. Maybe it’s time to put a human in charge of this town, and let the vampires find someplace else to live.”

  Dangerous, Claire thought. Really dangerous. Hannah stared at her cousin, her expression tight and controlled, and then nodded. “Okay,” she said. “You do what you want, Lisa, but you be careful, all right?”

  “We’re being real damn careful,” Lisa said. “You’ll see.”

  They came to the end of the hallway, where the area opened up into the big living room, and Eve and Claire both stopped cold.

  “Oh, shit,” Eve muttered.

  The humans were all armed—guns, knives, stakes, blunt objects. The vampires who’d been assigned to guard the house were all sitting tied to chairs with so many turns of rope it reminded Claire of hangman’s loops. She supposed if you were going to restrain vamps, it made sense, but—

  “What the hell are you doing?” Eve blurted. At least some of the vampires sitting there, tied and gagged, were ones who’d been at Michael’s house, or who’d fought on Amelie’s side at the banquet. Some of them were struggling, but most seemed quiet.

  Some looked unconscious.

  “They’re not hurt,” Lisa said. “I just want ’em out of the way, in case things go bad.”

  “You’re making one hell of a move, Lisa,” Hannah said. “I hope you know what the hell you’re about.”

  “I’m about protecting my own. You ought to be, too.”

  Hannah nodded slowly. “Let’s go,” she said to Claire and Eve.

  “What about—”

  “No,” Hannah said. “No radio. Not here.”

  Lisa moved into their path, a shotgun cradled in her arms. “Going so soon?”

  Claire forgot to breathe. There was a feeling here, a darkness in the air. The vampires, those who were still awake, were staring at them. Expecting rescue, maybe?

  “You don’t want to do this,” Hannah said. “We’re not your enemies.”

  “You’re standing with the vamps, aren’t you?”

  There it was, out in the open. Claire swallowed hard. “We’re trying to get everybody out of this alive,” she said. “Humans and vampires.”

  Lisa didn’t look away from her cousin’s face. “Not going to happen,” she said. “So you’d better pick a side.”

  Hannah stepped right up into her face. After a cold second, Lisa moved aside. “Already have,” Hannah said. She jerked her head at Claire and Eve. “Let’s move.”

  Outside in the car, they all sat in silence for a few seconds. Hannah’s face was grim and closed off, not inviting any conversation.

  Eve finally said, “Y
ou’d better tell Oliver. He needs to know about this.”

  Claire plugged in the code and tried. “Oliver, come in. Oliver, it’s Claire. I have an update. Oliver!”

  Static hissed. There was no response.

  “Maybe he’s ignoring you,” Eve said. “He seemed pretty annoyed before.”

  “You try.” Claire handed it over, but it was no use. Oliver wasn’t responding. They tried calling for anyone at Common Grounds instead, and got another voice, one Claire didn’t recognize.

  “Hello?”

  Eve squeezed her eyes shut in relief. “Excellent. Who’s this?”

  “Quentin Barnes.”

  “Tin-Tin! Hey man, how are you?”

  “Ah—good, I guess.” Tin-Tin, whoever he was, sounded nervous. “Oliver’s kind of busy right now. He’s trying to keep some people from taking off.”

  “Taking off?” Eve’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “Some of the vamps, they’re just trying to leave. It’s too close to dawn. He’s had to lock some of them up.”

  Things were getting weird all over. Eve keyed the mike and said, “There’s trouble at the Day House. Lisa’s tied up the vamps. She’s going to sit this thing out. I think—I think maybe she’s working with some other people, trying to put together a third side. All humans.”

  “Dude,” Tin-Tin sighed, “that’s just what we need, getting the vampire slayers all in the mix. Okay, I’ll tell Oliver. Anything else?”

  “More empty vampire cars. You think they’re like those guys who were trying to leave? Maybe, I don’t know, getting drawn off somewhere?”

  “Probably. Look, just watch yourself, okay?”

  “Will do. Eve out.”

  Hannah stirred in the back. “Let’s move out to the next location.”

  “I’m sorry,” Claire said. “I know they’re your family and all.”

  “Lisa always was preaching about how we could take the town if we stuck together. Maybe she’s thinking it’s the right time to make a move.” Hannah shook her head. “She’s an idiot. All she’s going to do is get people killed.”

  Claire was no general, but she knew that fighting a war on two fronts and dividing their forces wasn’t a great idea. “We have to find Amelie.”

  “Wherever she’s gotten herself off to,” Eve snorted. “If she’s even still—”

  “Don’t,” Claire whispered. She restlessly rubbed the gold bracelet on her wrist until it dug into her skin. “We need her.”

  More than ever, she was guessing.

  By the time they’d dropped off the next to last radio, at their own home, which was currently inhabited by a bunch of freaked-out humans and a few vampires who hadn’t yet felt whatever was pulling some of them off, the dawn was starting to really set in. The horizon was Caribbean blue, with touches of gold and red just flaring up like footlights at a show. Claire delivered the radio, the code, and a warning to the humans and vampires alike. “You have to watch the vamps,” she pleaded. “Don’t let them leave. Not in the daylight.”

  Monica Morrell, who was clutching the walkie-talkie in her red-taloned fingers, frowned at her. “How are we supposed to do that, freak? Give them a written warning and scold them really hard? Come on!”

  “If you let them go, they may not get wherever it is they’re being called before sunrise,” Hannah said. She shrugged, a fluid flow that emphasized her muscles, and smiled. “Hey, no skin off my nose or anything, but we may need ’em later. And you could get blamed for not stepping up.”

  Monica kept on frowning, but she didn’t seem inclined to argue with Hannah. Nobody did, Claire noticed. The former marine had an air about her, a confidence that somehow didn’t come off at all like arrogance.

  “Great,” Monica finally said. “Wonderful. Like I needed another problem. By the way, Claire, your house really sucks ass. I hate it here.”

  It was Claire’s turn to smile this time. “It probably hates you right back. I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she said. “You’re a natural leader, right?”

  “Oh, bite it. Someday, your boyfriend won’t be around to—” Monica widened her eyes. “Oh, snap! He’s isn’t around, is he? Won’t be back, ever. Remind me to send flowers for the funeral.”

  Eve grabbed the back of Claire’s shirt. “Whoa, Mini-Me, chill out. We’ve got to get moving. Much as I’d like to see the cage match, we’re kind of on a schedule.”

  The hot crimson haze disappeared from Claire’s eyes, and she took in a breath and nodded. Her muscles were aching. She realized she’d managed to clench just about every muscle, iron-hard, and tried to relax. Her hands twinged when she stretched them out of fists.

  “See you soon,” Monica said, and shut the door on them. “Wait, probably not, loser. And your clothes are pathetic, by the way!”

  That last part came muffled, but clear—as clear as the sound of the locks snapping into place.

  “Let’s go,” Hannah said, and herded them off the porch and down the walk toward the white picket fence.

  Walking on the street, heading vaguely north, was a vampire. “Oh, crap,” Eve said, alarmed, but the vamp didn’t seem to care about them, or even know they were there. He was wearing a police uniform, and Claire remembered him; he’d been riding with Richard Morrell, from time to time. Didn’t seem like a bad guy, apart from the whole vampire thing. “That’s Officer O’Malley. Hey! Hey, Officer! Wait up!”

  He ignored them and kept walking.

  Claire looked east. The sun’s golden glow was heating up the sky, fast. It wasn’t over the horizon yet, but it would be in a matter of seconds, minutes at most. “We’ve got to get him,” she said. “Get him inside somewhere.”

  “And do what, babysit him the rest of the day? O’Malley’s not like Myrnin,” Eve said. “You can’t stake him. He’s not that old. Seventy, eighty, something like that. He’s only a little older than Sam.”

  “We could run him over,” Hannah said. “It wouldn’t kill him.”

  Eve sent her a wide-eyed look. “Excuse me? With my car?”

  “You’re asking for something nonlethal. That’s all I’ve got right now. The three of us aren’t any kind of match for a vampire who wants to get somewhere, if he fights us.”

  Claire took off running toward the vampire, ignoring their shouts. She looked back. Hannah was after her, and gaining.

  She still got to Officer O’Malley first, and skidded into his path.

  He paused for a second, his green eyes focusing on her, and then he reached out and moved her aside. Gently, but firmly.

  And he kept on walking.

  “You have to get inside!” Claire yelled, and got in front of him again. “Sir, you have to! Right now! Please!”

  He moved her again, this time without as much care. He didn’t say a word.

  “Oh, God,” Hannah said. “Too late.”

  The sun came up in a fiery burst, and the first rays of sunlight hit the parked cars, Eve’s standing figure, the houses . . . and Officer O’Malley’s back.

  “Get a blanket!” Claire screamed. She could see the smoke curling off him, like morning mist. “Do something!”

  Eve ran to get something from the car. Hannah grabbed Claire and pulled her out of his way.

  Officer O’Malley kept walking. The sun kept rising, brighter and brighter, and within three or four steps, the smoke rising up from him turned to flames.

  In ten more steps, he fell down.

  Eve ran up breathlessly, a blanket clutched in both hands. “Help me get it over him!”

  They threw the fabric over Officer O’Malley, but instead of smothering the flames, it just caught fire, too.

  Hannah pulled Claire back as she tried to pat out the flames. “Don’t,” she said. “It’s too late.”

  Claire turned toward Hannah in a raw fury, struggling to get free. “We can still—”

  “No, we can’t,” Hannah said. “There’s not a damn thing we can do for him. He’s dying, Claire. You tried your best, but he�
��s dying. And he’s not going to take our help. Look, he’s still trying to crawl. He’s not stopping.”

  She was right, but it hurt, and in the end, Claire wrapped her arms around Hannah for comfort and turned away.

  When she finally looked back, Officer O’Malley was a pile of ash and smoke and burned blanket.

  “Michael,” Claire whispered. She looked at the sun. “We have to find Michael!”

  Hannah went very still for a second, and then nodded. “Let’s go.”

  7

  The gates of the university were shut, locked, and there were paramilitary-style men posted at the gates, all in black. Armed. Eve coasted the big car slowly up to them and rolled down the window.

  “Delivery for Michael Glass,” she called. “Or Richard Morrell.”

  The guard who leaned in was huge, tough, and intimidating—until he saw Hannah in the backseat, and then he grinned like a kid with a new puppy. “Hannah Montana!”

  She looked deeply pained. “Don’t ever call me that again, Jessup, or I will gut you.”

  “Get out and make me stop, Smiley. Yeah, I heard you were back. How were the marines?”

  “Better than the damn rangers.”

  “Don’t you just wish?” He lost the smile and got serious again. “Sorry, H, orders are orders. Who sent you? Who’s with you?”

  “Oliver sent me. You probably know Eve Rosser—that’s Claire Danvers.”

  “Really? Huh. Thought she’d be bigger. Hey, Eve. Sorry, didn’t recognize you right off. Long time, no see.” Jessup nodded to the other guard, who slung his rifle and pressed in a key code at the panel on the stone fence. The big iron gates slowly parted. “You be careful, Hannah. This town’s the Af-Pak border all over again right now.”

  Inside, except for the guards patrolling the fence, Texas Prairie University seemed eerily normal. The birds sang to the rising sun, and there were students out—students!—heading to class as if there were nothing wrong at all. They were chatting, laughing, running to make the cross-campus early-morning bell.

  “What the hell?” Eve said. Claire was glad she wasn’t the only one freaked out by it. “I know they had orders to keep things low profile, but damn, this is ridiculous. Where’s the dean’s office?”