"I doubt that, but you are the one I have readily available."
"Then come on. What do I get for it?"
Amelie's eyes turned red -- a muddy, rippling crimson that sent prickles of warning across Claire's skin, like the feeling before lightning strikes. "You get to survive this meeting with me, little girl. And I warn you, that possibility is fading with every unpleasant word you utter. Be careful."
"You wouldn't do it. You're like her." A flick of Kim's eyes included Claire in her scorn. "Full of talk, short on action."
Amelie smiled, very slowly. It was one of the most unsettling things Claire had ever seen her do...as if a mask had been pulled away and something terrible looked out of her eyes. Kim saw it, too. Her handcuffs clicked as she tried instinctively to draw away. "Oh, child," Amelie said. "I have worked very diligently to achieve that image, because a ruler should be seen as just and fair and merciful. But you would not like to see me take action. I am, after all, my father's daughter. Now. You will give me the help I require to trace this signal that Claire has found, and you will be grateful that I choose to allow you to continue in your presently comfortable state. Once you have demonstratedresults , we may discuss an improvement in your conditions."
Amelie rarely exerted the power that Claire knew she had, but she felt it now --
heavy, suffocating, full of dread. It pressed down on everyone in the room; she even saw the other vampires shift uncomfortably.
But mostly it was directed at Kim, who crumbled like a sugar cookie. "Okay," she said, after about a second's delay of false bravado. "But I can't do it in here. I need access to the Internet."
"We can arrange that."
"And I need to get out of here. Just for a little while." Kim looked up, and Claire saw that, incredibly, she was still trying to bargain. Maybe she wasn't quite the sugar cookie, after all. "A day. Just a day. I need -- I need to see the sun."
Amelie didn't move, and the dark atmosphere didn't let up, but finally she gave a regal nod and stepped back. It felt like a storm had passed without breaking, and Claire instinctively took in a deep breath, and heard Kim do the same. "A day,"
Amelie said. "First, you locate the source of this transmission for us.
Then you will be supervised closely on your furlough. Mr. Martin will go with you --
" Mr. Martin, the vampire standing behind Kim, inclined his head. "And Claire."
"Wait," Claire said, at the same time as Kim. They both had identical tones of alarm.
Claire kept talking.
"You're making me stay with her?"
"You don't like her," Amelie said. "And therefore you won't give her any...breaks, I think you call them. At the first sign that Kim is misbehaving, tell Mr. Martin, if he doesn't know already, and she will be immediately returned to custody."
"But I -- "
"No arguments," Amelie said. "The deal is done. Mr. Martin, arrange for the girl to have her Internet access, but I want it to be closely monitored. You are not to leave her for a moment. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Founder." Mr. Martin inclined his head. "What if she's unable to complete the task?"
"She has an hour," Amelie said. "If she can't solve the problem within that time frame, I no longer need her."
Kim, tough-chick 'tude or not, flinched at that pronouncement. There was no mistaking what it meant.
"An hour's not enough time!"
"I sincerely hope you're wrong," Amelie said. "Let's call it...motivation."
Claire felt an unexpected sense of sympathy for Kim's stricken expression.... She'd been there not long ago. She'd been under threat of death, or having her friends and family suffer, if she wasn't able to live up to Amelie's expectations. It wasn't a comfortable place, especially if you weren't sure you could get it done.
But she just couldn't sympathize much in the end. Kim was a cold-blooded sociopath, at least as far as Claire was concerned, and she'd never shown any sign of remorse.
No point in empathizing with someone who'd turn around and stick a knife in your back, with a smile.
Claire felt the minutes ticking away as the details were dealt with...the computer located, the Internet access enabled and hooked up, the security protocols negotiated.
Then, finally, Mr. Martin moved out of the way and Kim sat down in front of the keyboard.
She drew in a breath, put her fingers on the keys, and said, "Okay, what's the URL?"
"ImmortalBattles-dot-com."
Kim typed it in, then flipped to a view of the code, then started up a new coding window.
"What are you doing?" Amelie asked.
"Running a trace route."
"And that is how you will find them."
Kim laughed. "No way in hell. A six-year-old could figure out a way around that. But it'll give me a starting point, and I can work from that."
Amelie settled back in her chair. Mr. Martin leaned over Kim's shoulder, watching the screen intently. If he didn't know what he was looking at, he gave a good imitation of it. Kim cast him doubting looks from time to time, and once he asked her to stop and explain what she was doing. She did it in quiet, calm tones, apparently creeped out by having him hovering so closely.
Claire sipped a cold drink that had been delivered by one of Amelie's guards and waited. She checked her watch from time to time, feeling useless and increasingly worried; every minute they sat here was another minute that something bad might be happening to Shane or to Michael.
She was also aware, though she didn't particularly want to be, that the minutes were counting down for Kim, who was looking paler with every tick of the second hand.
Her fingers worked fast, blurring motion, then stopped and hovered indecisively as she leaned closer to the screen.
Thirty minutes. Forty. Forty-five. Claire drained her glass and felt the tension growing in the room. Mr. Martin, hanging over Kim's shoulder, glanced up at Amelie, who gave him some imperceptible signal Claire couldn't read. It probably wasn't good, at least for Kim.
Although Amelie never so much as glanced at a watch, it was exactly sixty minutes by Claire's timepiece when the Founder said, in precise and soft tones, "Your time is up, Kim."
Kim froze, then looked up with glittering eyes through the tangled hair that had fallen over her face. She shoved it back, and for the moment, at least, she looked defiant and unafraid. "Yeah? Well, good thing I'm done, then."
"Get up."
Kim did, and Mr. Martin moved her away from the computer and fastened handcuffs on her again, looping them through a solid ring set in the concrete wall. He studied the screen of the computer and said, "I have an address here. And a map."
"It had better be accurate," Amelie said. "I won't look kindly on misdirection."
"Do I get my day outside?" Kim said.
"Indeed, though you may not enjoy it," Amelie said. "You're coming with us. Mr.
Martin, you're in charge of her. Claire, you also have responsibility. Are we clear on this?"
"Yes," Claire said. Mr. Martin nodded.
"Then put her in less...attention-getting clothing," Amelie said. "I have calls to make."
"Now, this is more like it," Kim said, once they were all inside the limousine again. It was a tight fit, with Mr. Martin and Kim added to Amelie, Claire, and the two other guards, but Amelie managed to arrange for her own personal space. It was the rest of them who were crowded. Kim was in the middle, but she didn't seem to care; she was busy running her hands over the plain black hoodie she'd been given to put on and the blue jeans. The Skechers had to be hers, from before; they looked ragged, well-worn, and had tribal patterns of black thorns and roses all over them, hand-painted.
She'd tied her hair back in a ponytail and secured it with a rubber band. No fancy hair things available, Claire guessed, or at least none Kim wanted to wear. All in all, she made it look reasonably her again. "I wish we could see out."
"Nothing much to see," Claire said. "It's Morganville. Rusty buildings, flat desert, dusty, tumbleweeds.
You know the drill."
"You'd be surprised how good that sounds when all you've seen for months are gray walls. So, how's Eve?"
"She's fine." Oh, she so didn't want to talk about her friends with Kim, of all people.
"And she doesn't want to see you."
"Call her and see."
"No." The last thing Claire wanted was for Eve to get sucked back into the black hole of Kim. That hadn't turned out well for anyone last time.
Kim laughed dryly. "She still dating that vamp hottie Michael?"
"Would you please, please, please shut up now?"
"I guess that's a yes. He's going to dump her, you know. Sooner or later."
Claire felt stung, mostly because she'd wondered about that herself, guiltily, from time to time. "No, he's not! They're -- they're getting married." She blurted it out, and Amelie's head turned toward her with eerie, machinelike precision.
"Are they." It didn't sound like a question. It also didn't sound like Amelie was pleased with that particular news. "I'll have to have a chat with Michael. He's failed to inform me of his plans."
Kim smirked. Claire fought the urge to hurt her, but mainly because there wasn't any room to get in a good punch. Maybe, she thought, Shane is rubbing off on me with this prone-to-violence thing. Dammit!
She should have thought before she said anything about that; she should have known better. Michael and Eve weren't exactly the most popular couple among the vampire side of town, much less the human side; it made sense that Amelie wouldn't be completely happy about the idea -- and that Michael wouldn't have come right out with it to the head vampire, either.
Kim had goaded her into saying it, just as Kim manipulated everyone around her and always had. Claire made herself breathe slowly, through her nose, trying to calm down. She had to think clearly and go slowly. Otherwise, Kim would drive her into saying other things, worse things. There were all kinds of secrets Kim didn't need to be part of, starting with...well, everything.
Amelie ignored the two of them and held out her hand to the guard seated next to her.
Without a word, he took a cell phone out of his pocket and handed it over. She dialed, waited, and said, "We are on our way. You have the address, yes? I will expect you there. And, Oliver? Come prepared for a fight. We're going to wipe out this nest of vipers. There can be no delay. Things have gone far enough."
But what about Shane? Claire reached out toward Amelie but didn't touch her; she didn't dare try. As it was, a guard grabbed her wrist and held it there in midair, frozen. He didn't hurt her, but there was no doubt that he could have. "Stop," he told her. "Think what you're doing."
"Amelie," Claire said. "I told you, Shane's not part of this. Please don't -- "
She didn't take the phone away from her mouth. She looked directly at Claire with no expression in her iron gray eyes and said, "Detain everyone. We will determine guilt or innocence on-site." She handed the phone back to her flunky, who turned it off and put it away. "Why do you have your hand out toward me, Claire? Do you believe that I would harm your...friend, without proof?"
Actually, Claire did believe that. She'd seen Amelie go full contact before, and she knew that she wouldn't hesitate to sentence Shane if there was even a suspicion that he was willingly part of all this stuff.
Not reassuring.
And right on cue, Kim was there to articulate all that terror in her head. "She's going to kill them all,"
Kim said. "And you and me, we're the ones to blame for that. If Shane's still there, she'll go all Red Queen on him, too. Off with his head. Talk about poetic justice."
That was exactly what Claire was afraid of, and what she was afraid to put into words. Trust Kim to blurt it out, make her worst fears real. Amelie didn't confirm or deny any of it. She looked toward Mr. Martin, who took Kim's hand in his and said,
"Enough." He sounded quiet and not especially threatening, but Kim shivered. Claire felt it. "Be quiet, now. Enjoy your hours of freedom."
"You call this freedom? I'm trapped in a town car with a bunch of fanged prison guards. Oh, and her."
Kim bumped shoulders with Claire, not too gently. "The Team Vampire mascot."
"I actually am going to punch you," Claire said.
"Yeah, I am absolutely terrified, Danvers. Without Shane around to fight your battles, do you think you can take me?"
Claire turned and stared Kim full in the face. "Yes," she said. "I'm pretty sure I can."
She meant every word of it, and Kim must have decided to back off -- or Mr. Martin's presence decided it for her. They lapsed into a heavy silence as the limousine drove and drove and drove...and, finally, to Claire's simultaneous relief and terror, began to slow down.
Claire took out her phone. Amelie gave her a sharp look. "I'm only calling Eve. I want her to know I didn't just disappear. Like Michael and Shane. You know how she is."
Amelie looked bemused and nodded. "Do not tell her where we are."
"I don't actually know where we are." Claire dialed. Eve picked up on the first ring.
"Hello?" Her voice was tense and madly uncontrolled. "Michael?"
"No, it's Claire -- "
The yell blasted out of the cell phone loud enough to echo around the inside of the car. Claire yanked it away from her ear, and she could still hear very clearly what Eve was shouting. "What the hell are you doing? Where are you? You can't just run off and leave me and not even leave a note. My God, you're as bad as the boys. How do I know the vamps haven't dragged you off and snacked on your -- ?"
"Eve," Claire said, yelling into the phone. "Eve! Shut up! I'm with Amelie!"
Silence, and then much lower in volume, "Oh. Sorry."
Claire put the phone back to her ear. Next to her, Kim was smirking again. Claire sincerely wanted to put her shoe through that smile, but again didn't. She took a deep breath. "We may have found out where the fights are being held. I'll call you if Michael's here, okay?"
"Okay," Eve said. "Uh, you're being careful, right?"