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He smiled, and it made his dimples come out. "I think I'm more Batman," he said. "You know, what with all the bats and nighttime activities. And Batman is much cooler."
"Geek."
His smile widened. "You say the nicest things. Haven't you heard? Geeks run the world now."
"Yeah, what Goths allow them to run." This felt so good ... so much like the old days, when we were friends, and before everything got so complicated. So dangerous. "You're avoiding the conversation."
He looked down at his hands, then back up as if willing himself to do it. "Yeah, I guess I am. I hurt you. I could do it again, if the conditions were right; I don't really know what could trigger me to do it, Eve. Wish to hell I did. I just ... lost myself. And I can't promise you it won't happen again." There was something tentative about the way he was watching me now. Afraid, I realized. Afraid I was going to reject him, and knowing it would hurt, but just ... holding still for it all the same.
"That makes jumping into getting married sound a little crazy," I said. "Doesn't it?"
He nodded. This time, when he looked down, he didn't try to meet my eyes again.
"Michael."
"I'm sorry," he said. It came out half a whisper, and a little unsteady. "It's not your fault, it's mine ..."
"Michael. Look at me." He did, finally, bracing himself for impact. "I said getting married sounds crazy. I do crazy for a living."
For a blank few seconds, he didn't seem to understand me; I think he must have run that through his head at high speed a dozen times before he finally got the translation. "You mean you're okay. We're okay."
"Yes, Michael, you fool, we're very okay. But what I said before still stands. You'd better not think of me as a victim, even if something does happen. I'm no weak little flower, and if I need to defend myself, I will. Just-try not to make that happen. I really don't want to have to hurt you. Okay?"
His smile was bright and sweet and hot enough to melt solid steel. "Is this the part where I kiss you?"
"If you like."
"Oh," he said, "I like." And he leaned forward, gripping the arms of my chair, and slowly, slowly, sweetly brought that mouth to me. It was a long, lovely kiss, the kind that melts your spine and fills you with sunlight and steals your breath away. The kind that, as far as I knew, only Michael Glass could give me, because he knew, he just knew that kissing me with those gentle little butterfly-soft presses would make my toes curl, and the way that the teasing sank into something deeper, darker, more intensely needy. His tongue stroked my lips, and I let them part, hungry for him, for the taste of him.
I had missed him so, so, so much. Missed this.
Missed us.
"Eve?" He kept his lips close, punctuating his words with small little electric brushes of our skin. My own mouth felt swollen, tingling, intensely and darkly aware. "I think ... we should ... find some ... privacy. Right now."
I was one hundred and ten percent in favor of this idea. In fact, parts of me were redlining at one-twenty. "Yes, please," I said. I kept my mouth just as close, teasing him right back. "Does this mean we actually have to stop kissing?"
"I'm afraid it might."
"Wait ... not sure about that, then ..."
He pulled me up to my feet and put his arms around me, pressed his lips to mine and began guiding me around the chairs. I giggled into his mouth as we bumped awkwardly into walls, tables, a large vase ... and then suddenly he let go of me and turned away, just as I heard Shane say, "Where's Claire?"
"What?" Michael sounded blank, and just a little bit frustrated. I could understand that, because I was struggling to tamp down the furnace he'd ignited inside me and reconnect with the rest of the world. "What are you talking about? I thought she was with you."
"Was," Shane said. He was pulling a shirt over his head, and looked better and more focused than he had before. I was glad to see that. I'd have just been happier to see it in say, an hour. Or two. "She got a call from Myrnin."
Of course. Nothing strange about that, although I was a little surprised she'd gone. He must have made it seem important. Well, with all that was going on, it probably was important. I made sure my clothes were on relatively straight, and stepped out from behind Michael. "I didn't see Myrnin earlier," I said. "Did you?"
Michael shook his head. "He wasn't with Naomi's crew."
"Maybe he's with Oliver, then."
"Oliver wasn't letting anyone near Amelie. No reason to take Claire in there, even if Myrnin got pulled in." Michael bumped fists with Shane. "You look better, man."
"I feel better," Shane said. "Or I would if I could figure out where Batty McCrackula took my girlfriend."
"Oooh, good one. I'm writing that down. Lab?" I suggested. "I mean, the one he set up here?"
The boys thought it was a good idea, too, so we tried it. There was trial and error involved, what with all the hallways and doors; the more rooms we opened, the more it seemed obvious that this place was deserted. We found Theo in the infirmary; he had a couple of human patients in the beds, and his hulking friend Harold as his nurse.
"Myrnin?" Theo repeated when we asked, and straightened up from where he sat staring into a microscope. "I'm afraid he's not been here. I haven't seen him for some time. Have you tried the lab?"
"Can't find it," Shane said. He sounded like he was ready to break something, and I couldn't really blame him.
"Ah. Second hall, turn left, then three doors down on the right. Tell the madman I said hello." Theo went back to his microscope as if it was vitally important, which maybe it was, and Harold waved to Shane. Shane waved back, looking a little confused about it, and we backed out of the mini-hospital and into the hall.
Theo's directions took us straight to Myrnin's makeshift lab, but although it was full of glass and books and tables, there was absolutely no one there.
"Hang on," Michael said, and took out his phone. He dialed, and listened. I watched his expression grow set and a little worried. "She's not answering."
"Try Myrnin," Shane said. He was as tense as a guitar string, and about as likely to break at the wrong pressure. Michael dialed, listened, and shook his head. "I can't help it, I have a bad feeling about this ..."
"You should."
We all turned, in varying degrees of fast, and I don't know about the guys, but I was really surprised to see my uncomfortable little friend Miranda standing in the lab doorway. She looked as mismatched and odd as ever, and her eyes had that looking-through-us focus that made me shudder.
"What are you talking about?" Shane asked, and walked toward her. He probably didn't mean it to be threatening, but he was agitated, and an agitated Shane was an intimidating thing. Miranda backed up. He stopped and held up both hands in frustrated surrender. "I'm not going to hurt you, kid. Just tell me. Where is Claire?"
"Home," she said. "I told her not to go. I told her." She looked ... distressed, which was weird to me. I'd seen Miranda go through a car wreck and the loss of a sister without that much of a reaction. "It's all going wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this."
"Mir." I pushed past Shane and took the girl's hand. She was all soft skin over thin bird bones, and I made a mental note to make the poor kid a sandwich sometime; she desperately needed it. "Miranda, you know me, right?"
That knocked her out of the psychic trance state, and she gave me a wary, annoyed look. "Of course," she said. "You're Eve. Why wouldn't I?"
Excellent question, but I let it go. "Take a deep breath and explain what's going on. You're not making any sense."
"It doesn't make any sense. That's what I'm trying to tell you," Miranda shot back, and sighed. "Claire's at the Glass House. And she shouldn't be there. I told her that before she went to see Myrnin."
I looked over at Shane. "Did she say anything about-"
"The last thing I knew, she was going to meet Myrnin, but I don't know where." He was staring at Miranda with a fiercely still expression, as if he was throttling the impulse to shake something out of her. "He must have taken her home is all I can figure. But why would he do that?"
"Murky," Miranda said. "I can't see what's going on. It's scary, Eve. I don't like it. But I know we have to help her. We have to." Her hand was shaking, and her small fingers wrapped tight around mine. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Except if we do, we won't all make it."
