She hardly had time to turn before Shane had her and was smothering her in a hug, then devouring her in a kiss, and even though she wasn’t exactly in the best possible shape, she felt a hot flush race through her veins to warm her whole body. “Hey,” Shane said, then gently combed her hair back from her face. “You look—”

He saw the bite mark, and froze.

Michael and Eve were right behind him, and Claire heard Eve make a funny, strangled noise. Michael’s head snapped toward Myrnin.

“I’m okay,” Claire said. “A little juice, a steak—I’ll be fine. It’s just like the blood bank. Right?”

Amelie exchanged a glance with Myrnin, then turned away. He said, “Absolutely,” and bounced to his feet to join Amelie at the hissing hulk of the computer. “Take a few days off. With pay.”

Shane’s face turned red. “You son of a—”

“Don’t,” Claire said, and put her hand on his cheek. “Shane. I need you. Don’t do that.”

“I need you, too,” he said. “I love you. And it is not okay.”

Myrnin didn’t look at either of them again. After a moment, though, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and came up with a small, portable hard drive.

SHANE & CLAIRE, it read in silver Sharpie.

“I think this is yours,” he said.

Claire felt a wave of weakness that had nothing to do with loss of blood. “Where did you get it?”

“Ada,” Myrnin said. “She was planning to do something creative with it, I expect—put it on the Internet, or send it to your parents. Her idea of a prank. You can thank me later.”

She stopped, staring at his back. “You didn’t watch it, did you?”

He didn’t turn around. “Of course not.”

It even sounded as if he might be telling the truth.

“My car’s outside,” Michael said. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

“In a moment,” Amelie said, and turned to face them. In that moment, with her hands clasped at her waist, she looked very much like Ada, which gave Claire a severe attack of the terrors. “I’ve made a decision. About the three of you.”

That didn’t sound good. They all exchanged looks.

Claire felt something odd happen inside her, like a flash of heat, followed by one of cold . . . and then the bracelet on her wrist, a constant, heavy presence, clicked, and fell off to roll away on the stone floor.

Claire cried out and rubbed at her wrist. It was dead white where the bracelet had been, and indented with the shape of gold.