Whether Claire had a point or not, Michael must have realized that debating wasn’t getting anything done. He shrugged and said, “Fine. If you get me killed, I’m haunting you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

He winked at her, and stepped off the edge, dropping soundlessly into the dark. Claire rushed forward, grabbing up the flashlight along the way, and shone its glow down into the trapdoor. A dozen feet below, Michael’s pale face looked up. His blue eyes looked supernaturally bright as his pupils contracted in the glare.

“Right,” he said. “Jump.”

She’d been through this with Myrnin, but it still never felt exactly comfortable. Still, it was Michael, and if any vampire was trustworthy . . .

She shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and plummeted, straight into his cool, strong arms. Michael let her slide down, already looking past her into the dark. “There are things down here,” he said.

“Vampires.”

“Not—sure I’d call them vampires. Things is pretty accurate.” Michael sounded a little nervous. “They’re just—watching us.”

“They’re sort of guard dogs. Watch them right back, okay?”

“Doing that, yeah. Which way?”

“This way.” It was easy to get turned around in the dark, but Claire had a pretty good memory, and there were enough strange shapes in the rocks of the walls that she’d picked some out as signposts. Her flashlight’s beam bounced and glittered on granite edges, and pieces of broken glass scattered on the floor. There were some bones. She didn’t think these were human, though that was probably wishful thinking.

“Whoa,” Michael said, and held her shoulder as the room opened up. She knew what he was seeing—the big cavern where Ada was housed. He’d been here before, but not through the tunnel; it was kind of a shock, the way it opened up into this vast, echoing space.

“Lights,” Claire said. “To the left, on the wall.”

“I see them. Stay here.”

She did, clutching the metal of the Maglite more tightly, until a sudden hum of power accompanied the dazzling arrival of lights overhead. Claire blinked away glare and saw that Ada—the computer, not the flat, generated image she liked to present—was in full-power mode, gears clanking like giant teeth, steam hissing from pipes, liquid bubbling here and there in huge glass retorts.

Myrnin was slumped against the giant keyboard, face-down.

“Oh no,” Claire breathed, and raced to his side. Before she could touch him, Michael flashed to her and caught her hand.

“No,” he said, and picked up a stray piece of metal from the floor, which he flicked at Myrnin’s back, where it landed, electricity arcing, and sizzling. “I can smell the ozone. She’s got him wired. If you touch him, it’ll kill you.”

Chapter 9

9