“I’ve decided to record you as Neutrals,” Amelie said. “Friends of Morganville. You will be issued special pins, which you must wear at all times. Your names will be recorded in the archives. You are not to be menaced or hunted by any vampire from this point onward. In return, I will require services from you, as I do from other Neutrals, from time to time. You will be listed as employees of the town.”

Even Myrnin seemed surprised, Claire thought. “Generous,” he said.

“Pragmatic,” Amelie said. “Less trouble for me. The four of them are stronger together, and less vulnerable. And I’m well aware that there are those within Morganville who would prefer to split them apart, for their own uses. I can hardly have people with such intimate knowledge of us running around without . . . restrictions.”

Claire licked her lips. “About that—I kind of made a deal with Morley. That you’d let him and his people leave Morganville, or else Eve and Shane get hunted.”

“Why on earth would you do such a thing?” Amelie shook her head. “I can’t protect you from deals made prior to the announcement. If Morley can make a claim, he can register the hunt. It would be legal, according to law. It would be up to you to protect yourselves.”

“But you could let Morley and his people leave, right? That’s all they want. To be set free, to go where they want.”

Amelie was silent for a moment, and then she said, “No.” That was all. No Sorry or Hope you don’t die.

She turned back to the dead computer.

“But—”

Shane shook his head. “Let’s go home. Come on, we have a month. We’ll work it out.”

Claire didn’t think so, but she shut up and let Michael ferry them, one by one, out of the trapdoor and up to the lab. As they headed for his car, Eve’s cell phone rang.

“Hello? Oh, hi, Heather.” Eve sighed. “Don’t tell me, I’m fired, right?”

Heather? Claire remembered, finally, that Heather was the assistant director for the play. It was the last possible thing Claire could think of, importance-wise, but Eve’s face gradually lit up with a smile. “I’m not? Seriously? He didn’t—oh wow. Okay. Yes. I’ll be there. Yes, of course! . . . Oh, sure, hang on.” She handed the phone to Claire. “She says she wants to talk to you.”

Claire carefully put the phone to her ear. “Yes?”

“Claire, look, we need a new Stella. Mein Herr says you’re perfect. He’s already cleared it with your boss.”

“He what?” And how did Myrnin get to make that kind of call, anyway? “I’m not an actress! I don’t know anything—”

“That’s what he likes,” Heather said. “You’re cast. Be at rehearsal tomorrow. Eve will tell you when.”

She hung up.