Black Dawn: The Morganville Vampires (45 page)

Oliver was next to her, wearing black leather.

“No,” Eve whispered. “No, not
now
…”

The vampires walked down the aisle and came to a halt a few feet away. Amelie’s eyes were wide and cool gray, no hints of red, at least. She was wearing white gloves to match her suit.

“What’s this?” she asked in a very neutral tone. “Father?”

“They’ve come before the altar to be joined in marriage,” he said, and for the first time Claire heard strength in his voice. Real strength. “They’re in the presence of God now, Amelie. And not under your control.”

She raised her pale eyebrows and fixed Michael with a stare. He met it without wavering. “And yet,” she said softly, “they must leave this church, and live in Morganville, and I assure you, that is
utterly
under my control. I put out a call for all those in town to help us restore the town. Yet I find you here.”

“We’ll help,” Eve said. “But first we’re doing this. And you’re not stopping us.” She sounded brave. And very certain. “You can’t.”

There was a little sparkle of red in Amelie’s eyes—or it might have been the candlelight. Claire hoped it was, anyway. “Can’t I? That is … debatable. But I grant you this hour. Enjoy your … respite. Tomorrow begins the dawn of a brand-new Morganville. We will rebuild.”

“Together,” Claire said, and drew that cool, icy stare.

“Perhaps,” Amelie said. “And perhaps that is one of many things that will change.”

Oliver spoke up for the first time. “The next time you do something without permission,” he said, “it’ll be the last. New rules, children. Brand-new rules. Remember that.”

And he escorted Amelie out, trailed by the guards. The doors boomed shut behind them.

Eve let out a shaking breath. “So, that’s … not so great,” she said. “Michael, maybe—”

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, looking straight into her eyes. “No,” he said. “No more letting the world tell us what we ought to do. We know, Eve.
I
know.”

For a moment she didn’t move, and then she smiled, and it seemed to light up the whole church.

“Yes,” she agreed, and turned to face Father Joe. “We’re ready.”

Are we?
Claire wondered, but she quickly buried the thought as he began the prayer.

They had to be.

Because now there was no going back.

M
usic is important to my process of writing. It’s the first thing I do before I start a new book … pick at least ten songs for this track list. Then, as I go along, I search for more music to fill it out and keep the soundtrack in my head going. I think I got some particularly juicy songs for this one! Hope you enjoy them … and
please
, remember that, like writers, musicians exist on the money you pay for their work. So please pay to play.