Myrnin was silent for a moment. Claire could almost see him, hunched over the old-fashioned wired phone that looked like it had come from a Victorian junk shop. “I see,” he said, in an entirely different tone. “Are you certain?”

“She told me you needed to see me, and opened a portal into a nest of hungry vamps. So, yes. I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh my. I will have a talk with her. I’m sure it was a misunderstanding.”

“Myrnin—” Claire squeezed her eyes closed, counted to five, and started over. “She’s not listening to you anymore. Don’t you get that? She’s doing her own thing, and her own thing means getting rid of the competition.”

“Competition for what?”

“For you,” Claire said. “Not that I am. But she thinks I am. Because you haven’t killed me.”

She was babbling, because saying this was making her feel a little sick and giddy. She wasn’t in love with Myrnin, but she did love him, a little. He was crazy; he was dangerous ; he was a vampire—and yet, he was somehow not any of those things, in his better moments.

“Claire.” He sounded wounded. “I do not find you attractive, except for your mind. I hope you know that. I would never take such advantage of you.” He paused, and thought about it for a second. “Except if I was hungry, of course. But probably not. Most likely.”

“Yeah, that’s comforting. The point is, Ada thinks you care for me, and she wants me out of the way so you’ll care more for her. Right?”

“Right. I’ll go have a talk with her.”

“You need to pull her plug, Myrnin.”

“Over that? Pshaw. It’s merely a flaw in her programming. I’ll take good care of it.” He paused, then said, “Of course, in the meantime, I wouldn’t follow her anywhere if I were you.”

“No kidding. Thanks.”

“Oh, don’t mention it, my dear. Enjoy your evening. Oh, and tell Michael that I enjoyed his concert.”

“You were there?”

She heard the smile in Myrnin’s voice. “We were all there, Claire. All the vampires. We do so enjoy our entertainments.”

That was ever so slightly creepy, and Claire hung up without saying good-bye.

Downstairs, the video game raged on; Kim was as good a player as Shane, apparently, which didn’t surprise Claire but depressed her kind of a lot. Shane didn’t even notice her reappearance; he was wiggling around on the couch, putting body language into his shooting as his game character ducked zombie attacks and kicked, punched, and shot his way out of trouble.

Kim’s character was a slinky-looking girl with black hair in a ponytail, and half a costume. She fought in high heels.

Great.