Vampires took fire seriously; it was something that would kill them, quickly, and every building in Founder's Square was equipped with massive fire detection systems.
The smoke was rising, and acrid, and Claire coughed involuntarily, then coughed again. The stench was bad. The plug sparked and a thin thread of fire ran up the wall.
"Put it out," Jason said, no longer even a little amused. When she didn't, he grabbed a blanket and flung it over the burning carpet, stamping hard just as the alarms went off with a fierce shrilling sound. Greasy smoke billowed up, sending them both into a hacking fit, and now the wall was on fire, really, and Claire felt an awful surge of destructive joy as the door rattled and a guard stepped in with a fire extinguisher. He assessed the situation instantly, disregarded the two of them, and went to the wall to spray it with foam.
Claire broke for the open door. She didn't realize until she'd gained the hall that Jason hadn't followed her; when she glanced back, he was standing right where he'd been, facing the open doorway.
He raised his cuffed hands and gave her a finger wave.
Fine. If he wanted to stay in prison, she had absolutely no objections.
There were alarms all over the place, summoning people to fight the fire. It wasn't a big one, and it'd be out in seconds, but she'd created chaos, and that was all she needed. She just had to get to the basement, find a car, and ... she'd figure out the next part as she went along. She'd have to. If Michael and Eve weren't going to help ...
She made it to the elevator and pushed the button for the parking garage. There had to be some car she could steal, something. She needed to get out of here and back to the treatment plant. Seconds counted. Shane was still alive; she believed it, despite what Myrnin said.
She refused to believe him.
The elevator doors opened, and Claire rushed out, then skidded to an immediate halt, because Hannah Moses, Morganville's police chief, was standing there, gun drawn, looking really damn serious. She wasn't aiming it, but it wouldn't have been much work to take that step, either. Standing a couple of paces away was Richard Morrell, the mayor. He was tall, good-looking, and young, not even ten years older than Claire, but he looked older, way older now. Stress, she guessed.
He was holding his sister, Monica, by both elbows as she twisted to get free in a storm of flying long, dark hair. She froze when she saw Claire. If Morganville had a queen bitch, it was Monica; she'd elected and crowned herself way before Claire had ever run afoul of her. It didn't help that she was also pretty and had a huge budget for clothes and shoes. Monica's lips parted, but she didn't say anything. She tried to stomp on her brother's foot with her high heels, but he was obviously used to handling her, and he must have been wearing steel-toed boots.
"Let's all just be calm," Hannah said. She was a scary figure, Claire thought; there was presence to her, a cool and competent sort of aura that made you instantly believe, in any situation, that she'd been there, done that, and written the how-to book. It was almost certainly not true some of the time, but it was impossible to tell that from her body language and expressions. She had her cornrowed black hair tied back in a messy knot, and although she was wearing her police uniform, she'd lost the hat somewhere. The scar that jagged its way down her face looked fearsome in the dim light, and her dark eyes were very, very steady. "I'd ask where's the fire, but I'm guessing it's upstairs."
"It's out," Claire said. "Hannah, I have to go. Right now."
"Not alone, you're not."
"Why is Monica here? She left with the others." Morganville's privileged elite-mostly vampires, but a few well-connected humans-had fled before the draug had really attacked in force. Monica had cheerfully boarded the bus.
"God, let go, Richard. I'm not going anywhere!" Her brother released her, and Monica made a show of smoothing down her entirely-too-high-priced dress, which ended just below illegal. "My brother's all I have left, and he came running back here out of some misguided sense of loyalty to the little people. I couldn't let him face danger without me, could I?" She hesitated, then shrugged. "Besides, I ran out of money. And my credit cards were frozen."
"So you came back here?" Claire stared at her for a second, stunned by the magnitude of the void that was Monica.
Monica said, "Bite me, preschool. I don't care what alligators you're swimming with, anyway. I hope they eat all the best parts."
"Whatever. I don't have time. Shane's been taken by the draug, and I have to get him back. I have to."
Hannah's whole body language softened. "If he's been taken, you know how that ends, honey. I'm sorry about that, I truly am."
"No, he's strong. Shane is so strong. If anybody can survive, he can-I believe that. Hannah, please, you have to help me ...." She gulped back tears, because tears wouldn't help. "Please."
Even Monica had gone still now, and she'd lost some of her edge. Hannah considered all this in silence, and then slowly shook her head. "You've got no chance," she said. "You don't even know where he's being held-"
"The water treatment plant," Claire interrupted. "They haven't had time to move him anywhere, and they can't, because Myrnin closed off the pipes. They can't leave there, not easily."
"I'd never say can't when it comes to these bastards. They supposedly couldn't get here at all, but here they are." Hannah made a decision of some kind, and holstered her weapon, though she kept her eyes on Claire. "What's your plan?"
"Go get him."
"Honey, that is not a plan. That's what we in the military call an objective." Hannah said it compassionately but firmly. "You don't know he's even still alive."
"Actually," said a voice from the shadows by the stairs, "we do." Michael emerged, along with Eve.
He had Myrnin by the throat, and Myrnin was not looking good. In fact, he was looking like he'd gone ten rounds with Michael and lost.
He looked ... beaten.
Michael shook him, his face tense and hard. "Tell them what you told me."
Myrnin made a choking sound. Michael let go, and the other vampire fell to his knees, coughing. "I meant no harm," he whispered. "I was trying to save you. All of you."
"Just tell her."
Myrnin's head was bowed, his dark hair hiding his expression. "He may yet be alive."
Hope wasn't a peaceful thing; it was painful, a jagged white-hot explosion that ripped through her and forced her heart into overdrive. Claire heard herself say, over that heavy hammering, "You lied."
"No. No, it's true, he's gone, Claire. When the draug take humans, without exception, they die. It's just-vampires last for a long time, humans for a much shorter one, and humans seem to ... dream. They don't suffer as vampires do. It's easy for them. They slip into ... visions." He looked up then, and she honestly couldn't figure out what was in his face, his eyes, because her own were shimmering with tears. "It's kinder to leave him in them. He's dying, Claire. Or dead. But either way-"
"He's alive right now," she said flatly.
"Yeah," Michael said. It sounded like a growl, and his eyes glowed dull red in the shadows. "He lied to us. And we're going to get Shane. Right now."
Myrnin looked down again. He didn't even try to speak this time. He just ... shook his head.
Claire couldn't begin to think of how much it hurt her for him to do this, so she just ... didn't. She turned to Hannah. "We're going."
"You still don't have a plan."
"Yeah, we do," Michael said. "They came after us because we were attacking weak points in the system. Attacking them directly. We're not doing that this time. We're just going in after him, and they don't really care about humans; they care about vampires. They hunt us." He let that fall into silence before he said, "They'll care about me. I'll make them care. I'll go a different way and lead them off. That lets everybody else get to Shane."
This plan was clearly news to Eve. "No!"
"Eve, I can do this. Trust me."
"No, Michael, they already had you once, and-"
"And I know what it's like," he said. "That's why I can't leave him there, and we don't have time to beg for help, which Oliver isn't going to give anyway. Claire was right about that."
Hannah glanced down at Myrnin. "What about him? Is he helping?"