By the time she was done, Oliver was sitting on the sofa. He dabbed at the cut on his face, looking a lot less upset than Claire expected him to be.

“Wow, you planned that,” she said. “Right?”

He shrugged. “She loved Sam. She needs someone to fill the void inside her—either a lover, or an enemy.”

“And you’re the enemy.”

Oliver dusted himself off. “Through all the long, long years, it’s what we’ve always had between us. Anger, and respect.” He smiled a little. “And sometimes a glimmer of something else, not that we would ever admit it to each other. No, enemies are easier. She likes being my enemy. And I rather enjoy being hers.”

Claire really, really didn’t get it, but she didn’t think that either one of them would care.

“Hey,” she said. “You came through the portal. Did anything weird happen?”

“Weird?” He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I mean—never mind. I’m just kind of worried about the portals. I want to recalibrate the system.”

“I was planning to walk in any case. It’s just as important for the residents of Morganville to see me afoot as for them to see Amelie in her queen’s black coach.” Oliver straightened his shirt and stood up. “It gives us . . . balance.”

“Oliver?”

He stopped at the head of the stairs.

“What would happen if someone got word out about the town?”

“Out?”

“Out in the world. You know.”

“Oh, it’s happened before. But no one believes. No one ever believes.”

“What if—what if they had proof?”

“The only possible proof would be a genuine vampire, and that will never happen. Short of that, any proof can be denied easily enough.”

“What about—video?”

“Claire. You go to the cinema, don’t you? Do you imagine, in this age of digital trickery, that anyone would believe video of vampires?” He shook his head. “They would believe it now less than ever. The very popularity of vampires in your stories protects us.” He sent her a sharp glance. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” she said.

“Stop wondering. It’s not healthy.”

Then he was gone. Claire sat down on the couch and smoothed her palms over her jeans.

Oliver was right; people probably wouldn’t believe it. Most people didn’t believe all the ghost reality shows, either. The problem was that these days, reality didn’t have to be real to be a hit—and Morganville couldn’t stand up to real scrutiny.

They had to stop Kim, before it all fell apart.

Plus, as a bonus, they had to really kick her ass about the cameras, because that was just wrong.

Eve and Shane got home first, while Claire was devouring a peanut butter sandwich. She didn’t tell them about the visit from Amelie and Oliver, and besides, they looked pretty grim. She was sure they wouldn’t really care.

“What?” she asked. Shane snagged half her sandwich from her plate as he passed. “Hey!”