“What’s wrong with Frank?” Shane asked. “Too much vodka in his blood smoothies? Or is he just being his usual bastard self?”

“Shane,” Claire murmured, half in reproof and half in sympathy. There really had never been all that much about his dad that she could find to like, and she tried to find something good in everyone. Frank had been drunk, abusive, and angry when he was a human; as a vampire, he’d been mostly suicidal from rage over his conversion. He’d hurt Shane, a lot, but a son never stopped loving a father, she supposed. Even if he didn’t want to.

“He’s been having trouble adapting,” Myrnin said. “I fear Frank won’t be able to bear the strain of disembodiment for too much longer. I’ll have to disconnect him and look for a new subject unless he stabilizes soon.” He must have thought about that for a second, because he said, not as if he really meant it, “Sorry.”

Even though he wasn’t glancing her way, Claire felt a kind of pressure settle on her; Myrnin’s original plan, which she very well knew, was that she would be the one to end up in the center of his machine, the eyes and ears and nervous system of Morganville. It wasn’t a role she ever wanted to play, and he knew that.

It didn’t mean he’d really given up his dream, though.

Though he might have been halfheartedly apologizing to Shane, too. Who knew?

After another try, Myrnin sighed and shook his head. “The portals aren’t working,” he said. “We will have to go in vehicles. It’s not my preference, but it’s the best option we have. Going on foot is a ridiculous risk. We will certainly need a fast escape route.”

“Lucky for you I have a bitchin’ pickup downstairs,” Shane said. “Which provides an excellent fire platform for a flamethrower, by the way.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a tank,” Myrnin said. “Pity we don’t have one.”

“Actually,” Michael said slowly, his forehead creased in thought, “we just might. Follow me.”

Anything was better, Claire thought, than the smelly, chemical-heavy cleaner’s closet, and she sucked down a deep, clean breath of air once they were back in the hall. It made her cough. She could almost imagine her breath puffing out the sickly gold color of Pine-Sol. Her clothes reeked of the stuff. She didn’t know if it was bothering any of the others, but it definitely wasn’t her favorite smell in the world, especially in that intense burst.

Michael led them down to the elevators and pressed the button for the parking garage. He looked … well, smug. Definitely smug.

“Spill it,” Shane said. “You look like you won a year’s shopping spree at the blood bank or something.”

“You’ll see,” he said, and then the elevator doors dinged and rolled open …

… And Eve was standing there. She was wet and muddy, and there were four other vampires with her. She actually took a surprised step back when she saw Michael.