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Amelie hadn't moved at all. It was possible that something had gone wrong; maybe a splinter had broken off in her heart, freezing her in place, or something else had happened. A wooden stake wouldn't kil her, but it would paralyze her. And they needed her, Claire thought. Too many vampires. Even if the trick worked to loosen the bars, even if they could break them free...
"Something's happening out there," Shane said. "Heads up."
Naomi was moving forward at last, still ing the confused babble of the assembled vampires in the square. She was every bit a queen in her silver and black, and her voice was warm, sweet, and compel ing; she didn't need to bite people to convince them, Claire thought. She was persuasive enough without it. She'd only bothered to control the key players, and only for as long as she needed them. She was cold, but smart.
And now, she said, "My friends, I come before you in sorrow and pain to tellyou that Amelie, our Founder, has lost the right to rule."
No one doubted what was going on, Claire thought, but a number of vampires out in the crowd began to voice their objections. It wasn't a lot of them, but it was enough to make it clear Naomi wasn't a popular choice.
She held up a hand in a sharp, angry gesture. "Our laws are clear: the strongest rules. My sister was strong; the past is littered with those who stood against her, and lost. Her strength carried us here, to this town, to a place where we can finally begin to regain our rightful glory. But don't be mistaken: she hesitated. She corrupted herself by compromising with humans, with their laws and morals, until she forgot what it was to be a proper vampire."
There were more shouts of protest, louder now. That might not have been what Naomi expected, Claire thought; there was a growing tension in her shoulders, and the hand she still held raised seemed to shiver, just a little. "There wil be no debate on this! My sister became weak and foolish, and she was brought down by treachery. Not mine, but the treachery of a lover she trusted. She is not fit any longer to rule. Fear not; I wil burn the traitor with her, and we wil start newborn."
This time, no one shouted. There was an eerie silence. Claire honestly couldn't tel whether Naomi had won them over, or whether something else was happening-something that didn't bode well for the would-be queen. Vampires weren't that easy to read, especially not in large groups. The humans in their pen had gone very quiet and still -even Monica. Frail little Gramma Day was standing very tal , hardly leaning on her cane at all. But there was someone new standing near them, almost invisible behind Monica's tal , long-legged form...another human, not a vampire.
Jenna? What the hel was the ghost hunter doing here? Trying to get a story? Was she insane?
No. She was holding hands with someone else; a smal , slight form that Claire spotted as Flora Ramos shifted to one side.
Jenna had hold of Miranda's hand.
Miranda shouldn't be solid. But she was, very solid, though clinging to Jenna's hand as if to a lifeline in a stormy ocean. Maybe Jenna's psychic ability was feeding Miranda's own power and holding her steady in her nighttime form outside the Glass House, but from the strained, scared looks on their faces, it wasn't easy.
What the hel were they doing?
Naomi hadn't seen them, or if she had, she didn't care. She was busy trying to charm her new subjects.
"Tomorrow marks our new age, and I wil lead you into it," she continued. "You have been robbed of your rights for so long, my friends-subjected to indignities, to the constant complaints and restrictions of those who are rightfully our property. And that is over. As a token of this, I give you the first blood of Morganville. It is yours to take, as is your right as the rulers of not only this place, but allthe world." She extended her white hand to point at the people held off to the side-twenty people, including Monica.
The vampires looked in that direction. None of them moved, and then Jason sauntered out of the crowd, and said, "About damn time somebody did the right thing."
He grabbed Monica and dragged her out of the fenced-in area.
She shrieked and hit him, hard enough to make him stagger back a bit, and Claire lunged forward and yanked the wooden crossbow bolt allthe way out of Oliver's chest. She threw it hard through the bars of the cage and yel ed, "Monica, catch!"
Monica leaned over backward as Jason tried to drag her closer, and saw the bolt tumbling end over end through the air. In a move that was shockingly graceful-and probably couldn't have been repeated if she'd really thought about it-Monica grabbed it and jammed it not into Jason's heart, but between his teeth. "Bite that!" she yel ed, and kicked her way free. Her shoes, Claire realized, had silver caps on the stiletto tips. She yanked them off and held them ready. "Anybody else want some?"
Jason spit the bolt out, looking furious and embarrassed, and when he tried to grab her, she planted the heel of her shoe into his hand. It burned.
"We have to move, right now," Myrnin said. "She creates a nice distraction, but it won't last."
"It doesn't need to," Amelie said. She pulled the last inch of wood free from her chest and smiled up at him. "I find that I choose glory, my dear Myrnin."
"Most excel ent," he said. "Claire has loosened the bars, and-"
Shane held up his bleeding hand.
"And Shane helped," Myrnin amended grudgingly. "But I believe we should go now. Naomi is losing the respect of her peers. It wil not go well for her. She wil burn us out of sheer desperation."
Amelie nodded and rolled to a crouch. She studied the bars at the back of the cage, made a fist, and hit with surgical precision at the point at the top of one of the bars where the weld was weakest.
It snapped.
Her hand was burned in a bright red stripe, but she ignored it, grabbed the loose metal, and bent it in toward them with shocking strength. It, too, snapped cleanly off at the base.
"Hannah!" Shane was yel ing behind them. "Hannah, no!"
Claire glanced back and saw that Hannah-probably still following Naomi's implanted instructions-was reaching for a button that almost certainly would turn the cage into a fry basket. Underneath them, the gas jets sputtered into pale blue flame.
"Out!" Claire screamed. "Get out now!"
Amelie had hit the second bar twice without breaking it, and Myrnin joined her, kicking it with his bare foot between her blows. About three seconds later, the whole thing bent and then snapped completely free.
It wasn't a huge opening, but it was enough.
Amelie lunged out, and Myrnin after her. Shane went next and held out his hand for Claire.
But Oliver wasn't moving.
"Leave him!" Shane yel ed. Hannah's hand was hovering over the button, shaking, as if she were trying desperately to fight for their lives, and losing. "Claire, come on, now!"
She couldn't, because Oliver opened his eyes and began to move.
Claire broke loose from Shane's grasp and lunged for the vampire.
Oliver opened his eyes as she started dragging him, and he reached out to grab the bars and hold himself in place. "No," he said. "I have to-I have to pay for what I did."
"Not like this," Claire said. "Come on!"
But he wouldn't let go. The idiot wouldn't let go....
She saw Naomi's head turn; she saw her take in the fact that her prisoners were getting loose, and she glared sharply at Hannah-Who lost the internal battle, and hit the button that turned on the gas burners.
"Let go!" Claire shrieked as the flames shot up. She rolled for the hole in the cage bars and felt Shane yank her free into his arms. Her shirt was burning. He slapped the flames out.
Amelie reached past them, grabbed Oliver's burning form, and yanked him out with allher strength. The bar he'd been holding snapped in half, but he slid free.
Stil on fire.
Amelie stared down at him for a bare second with true horror written on her face, then threw herself down on him, smothering the fire with her body and her hands. He was scorched and smoldering, but alive.
Oliver's burned hands moved, caressing her shoulders, and he whispered, "Forgive me."
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes. Hush."
"Stop me before I hurt you again."
"I wil ." She sat up as he closed his hands around her neck, and she drove the wooden arrow that she'd pulled from her own chest into his heart.
Oliver went limp.
But Michael and Hannah had just rounded the corner, armed and ready to kil , and there was nothing but Naomi's wil in their expressions now.
