Claire left him to go upstairs. The bathroom was free, and she used the facilities, cleaned up, mourned the state of her face and the fast-emerging bruises around her neck, then went to her bedroom and found a pair of comfortable jeans and a top. A cute top. And she made sure it showcased the cross Shane had bought her. She also put on a little lip gloss. Just a little.

She could hear the shouts and smack talk from downstairs when she opened her bedroom door; Kim and Shane were all about the competition, which did not make her feel less left out. “Come on, suck it up,” she told herself in a harsh, hoarse whisper, plastered a smile on, and started down the hall.

The hidden door opposite Eve’s bedroom opened with a soft click, and in the dim reflected light, Claire saw the flicker of a black-and-white image of a woman in full Victorian-style skirts. It looked like a specter, which anywhere but in Morganville would have made Claire scream and make a run for the local ghostbusters.

But this was Morganville, and Claire knew Ada all too well. “What?” she demanded. Ada—or Ada’s image projection, anyway—made a hushing motion of a finger to her lips. She turned, the way a two-dimensional cardboard cutout turns, disappearing in the middle and then expanding again to a back view, and glided up the stairs beyond the hidden door without touching the wood.

“Seriously?” Claire sighed. “Wonderful. Just great.” She followed Ada up. Behind her, the door shut with the same hushed click. Upstairs the lights blazed on, a kaleidoscope of color through Tiffany glass lamps, and Claire saw Ada’s image—face forward again—standing against the wall near the old red velvet sofa. “Okay, I’m here,” she said. “What do you want?”

Ada made the shushing motion again, which was deeply annoying. Ada was a computer—a smart one, and arguably kind of human, but still . . . She was acting all secretive and clever, and Claire really didn’t like the rather cruel smile on those smooth dark gray lips.

Ada touched the wall, and it shimmered, taking on the darkness of one of the portals that Ada controlled through town . . . a kind of magic tunnel, although Claire hated to call it magic. It was physics, that was all. Scary advanced physics. That meant it was the ultimate fast lane, but dangerous. . . . Claire frowned at the opening, trying to feel where the destination might be on the other end. Nothing. And it looked way too dark to be safe.

“No,” she said. “I don’t think so. Sorry.”

Why she was apologizing to a crazy computer lady, she didn’t know. Ada wasn’t her friend. Ada didn’t even like her very much, although—by Myrnin’s orders—Ada kind of had to obey her.

Ada lost her smile. She shrugged, turned, and glided through the portal.