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A high, thin tone ripped through Claire's ears-a tiny bit of the draug scream. And then the powder darkened, and the liquid drew into it, pulled against its will.
Bound up in a chemical matrix and completely, utterly, trapped.
"Oh my God," she whispered, and felt her whole body heat up as the realization spread through her. "Oh my God, Shane!"
Myrnin came a hesitant step closer, staring. His eyes were very wide, fixed on the powder as it absorbed the water. He dropped to his knees to watch, then leaned over it.
Then he poked the remains.
The powder had turned darker, but it was still powdery-a little mealy, maybe. He picked up a sample and rubbed it between his fingers.
Then he sat back and looked up at Shane with an absolutely unreadable expression.
"You," he said, "are a genius."
"Nope," Shane said. "But it turns out my no-good past is good for something after all."
Michael threw his arm around Shane's neck and ruffled his hair. "Good job, bro."
"Dessicants," Myrnin said wonderingly. "A mostly modern invention. We used them before, with very limited success, because they took so long to work; silica was tried, and other minerals, but this ... this is astonishing. How much can a scoop of it absorb?"
"One hell of a lot," Shane said. "Use enough and it turns into a solid, like jelly, and you can just pick it up and toss it out." He had a dark flush in his cheeks, but his eyes were gleaming. He was proud of himself.
Good. He deserved to be.
Myrnin did an absolutely crazy little dance, one that left Claire openmouthed and wishing she'd taken video, because that was something she was sure she'd never see again in her lifetime.
Michael took the rest of the scoop and made a little powdery line across the threshold. The incoming water ran into it and just ... disappeared. "I'll check the perimeter," he said. "Hope you guys brought a deck of cards. We're going to have time to kill in here." He grinned at Shane. "Seriously, man. You're my hero."
Shane still looked happy, but then ... then something happened. His smile faltered, fell away. He stood very still, watching Michael.
"What? What did I say?" Michael asked him. "You okay?"
Shane had just ... shut down. Michael glanced aside at Claire, and she took Shane's hand. No response. "Shane? What's wrong?"
"Hero," he whispered. "Michael said I was his hero."
"Well, you're mine, too."
"Always wanted to be ... but it isn't right, that can't be right. Isn't there a pool inside? We have to get to the pool, put the silver in the pool ...." He squeezed his eyes shut, and he was trembling now. "This is wrong. I can't be the hero. I can't be. That's how I know ... know it's wrong."
"Shane!"
He just ... folded up, suddenly, and collapsed with a hollow boom of his back against the metal wall of the shed as he sat down. His eyes opened, and they were haunted, dark, empty. "This isn't right," he said. He looked at her, but it was as if he didn't really see her. "You can't be here. You weren't here. You were safe. I'd never let you get hurt, Claire. Not again. It was just us, not you ..."
"What in heaven is he talking about?" Myrnin snapped. "We don't have time for this-"
"He's remembering the dreams," Michael said softly. "The draug make humans dream. I don't think he can tell the difference anymore between then and now."
Myrnin considered that for about, oh, a second, and then shook it off. "Irrelevant," he said. "This substance he found changes everything. With this chemical, we can make weapons that will not just weaken but kill them, destroy them utterly, and do no harm to those vampires trapped inside the pools. Thousands of years of terror, death, running-all of it can end. We need to find a way to leave here and kill Magnus. He is the only one who matters now."
Claire watched as Michael's eyes narrowed and turned dangerously red. "Maybe you weren't paying attention, but we're surrounded by entire fountains full of draug. This stuff is awesome, but it's not a magic shield or anything, and the car is dead. We need transportation to get out of here."
"Well, that isn't forthcoming at the moment, now, is it? Perhaps there are other vehicles close by. The boy's fluent in stealing them, isn't he?" Myrnin frowned at Shane. "I understood he had such skills."
"Leave him alone," Michael said, and his fists clenched. "We wait."
"We cannot wait!"
"Hell we can't!"
The argument didn't seem to be going anywhere, and Claire found herself staring at something dimly glimpsed in the shadows. Something pale. For a heart-stopping moment, it resolved into a human shape, and all she could think was that somehow, the draug had found a way inside. Her heart slammed hard in instinctive alarm and shock, and she gasped out loud, but then she realized that it wasn't the draug, or even some weird lurker ... it was a white jumpsuit on a hanger.
A plastic jumpsuit. Suitable, she guessed, for rooting around in mucky landscaping crises or blown-up toilets or whatever.
She dashed for it, grabbed it off the wall, and yelled, "Turn around!" as she unzipped Shane's jacket. She tossed it over her shoulder to Michael, then stepped into the legs of the jumpsuit, careful not to tear it; it was pretty thin stuff, but it ought to be waterproof. Basically, a form-fitting raincoat. It fastened with a plastic zipper up the front, and she hastily finished that and looked around for something for her hands.
Nitrile gloves, a whole box of them. She grabbed two and slid them on.
"Here," Michael said, and handed her a battered, oily cowboy hat. "I think the janitor left it. It should keep the rain off your face and neck." When she put it on, it dropped all the way to her nose. "Or maybe a lot more of you. Wait a second." He scooped a plastic bag full of Super Slurper and handed it to her. "Use it if you have to."
Myrnin shoved in between them and handed her a ... wrench. A big, heavy thing. "There should be an emergency stop for the sprinkler system outside this building," he said. "Shut it down, and we can all get out. If you can't find it, run for help."
For the first time, Claire realized that she was going to run away and leave them all here, trapped. Shane was almost catatonic, shivering, paralyzed by something she didn't fully understand.
She had to do it. For him, if nothing else. She needed to get him out of here.
"Wait," Michael said. "Maybe I should do this."
"Run out into the draug? Are you crazy? If I do it, I'm just a puny little human, right? I get more time than you do. They'd be on you from the first second you step out the door."
Myrnin said, "She's right, boy. But Claire-Magnus will be looking for you. Be careful. You're at risk, too."
Claire held up the brim of the stupidly large cowboy hat and nodded to Michael and Myrnin both. "I'll be back," she said. "And I'm getting you out of here."
Michael didn't look happy, but he nodded. "I know. Just take care of yourself."
Claire crouched down next to Shane and stared into his blank eyes for a long moment. "Can you hear me?" she asked, and put her hands on his face. He still needed a shave. "Sweetie, please, talk to me. Can you?"
"Claire," he said, and a long, agonizing shudder went through him. "Are you really here?" He reached up and touched her fingers. Held them. "Are you?"
"Always," she said. She kissed him, and felt something in him responding, urgent and desperate for reassurance. "You have to stay with me, Shane. I need you." She dropped her voice to a bare whisper, lips right at his ear. "You promised me something, and you'd better not be backing out now."
When she pulled back, though, the panic was worse, not better, and he said, "What's her name? Claire, what's her name?"
He wasn't making any sense at all. She felt tears threaten, but she didn't have time. Get him safe, then get him back. That was all she could do. "I'll be back," she said.
Michael said, "Claire. I'll look after him."
He always does, Claire thought. For all that Shane hated the vampire side of Michael, Michael never let them down. She never doubted that he would protect them, not for a second. She never doubted any of them, really. Eve, Michael, Shane ... they were her family.
Looking at him right now, she felt a surge of breathtaking love, for Michael, and for what the four of them were, together.
