Chapter 4 –Claire's POV– Steampunk Vixen

Oh no, no, no…what the hell did I just do? Claire's thoughts were in shambles as she virtually ran out of the lab into the hot baking sun.

I'm with Shane! She thought furiously at herself. I love Shane!

Claire viciously wiped at the tears that were beginning to fall. Shane. How was she going to tell him? He would never forgive her. Claire couldn't let herself imagine life without Shane. He was her rock. He had fought for her and nearly died for her – on more than one occasion. How could she repay his kindness and love – like this?!

Claire stopped to look up and catch her bearings. She didn't know how long she had been almost-running down the streets, like a mad person, but it wouldn't do – no, anything less than complete attention, whilst anywhere in Morganville, was the quickest way to end up as someone's lunch.

She forced herself to think. She wasn't ready to go home and face Shane – not yet – and realized she was about half a block away from Common Grounds. She checked her watch; Eve would be getting off in thirty minutes. With her decision made, Claire headed toward Common Grounds, desperately hoping she could keep her despair hidden from Eve.

Eve was her closest girlfriend in the world; well, her only girlfriend if she were being honest. Morganville had not been the easiest of town's to make friends in. Maybe it was her age when she had arrived. Or maybe it was just the insane chaos of fighting for her life, so frequently, against way too many vampire threats, over the last two years.

While Claire and Eve were close, Eve had been friends with Shane long before Claire arrived in town. Claire was not at all sure, if it came to picking sides, whose side Eve would be on. She couldn't stand the thought of losing her friend and her boyfriend all in the same day.

Thankfully, Eve was busy at the bar when Claire came in. As Claire slid over to the only remaining open table, Eve gave her a short wave, "Hey, Claire Bear!"

Claire tried her best to smile back and then sank down into her seat. The table was located near the front window and Claire distracted herself by watching the people coming and going.

Eve flashed over a minute later, carrying a welcomed mocha and handed it to Claire.

"Hey! I am headed over to that cute little thrift shop on 3rd Street after work. You should come with me. They have a fabulous dress, short (of course) with diamond studs and glitter, hanging in the window. I think it would rock for my engagement party." Eve's head bobbed in excitement. "What do you think?!"

Claire kept the mocha to her lips to hide her expression and nodded, looking as excited as she could muster.

Eve glanced narrowly at her, immediately knowing something was off. "Hey, are you alright?" She reached a tentative hand out to touch Claire's arm.

Claire flinched before forcing herself to stay still. Reacting to Eve like she was a leper was not going to get Claire very far, in trying to convince her everything was okay.

Eve's eyes went wide before she continued through clenched teeth, "What's wrong? What happened? Is it Michael? Has something happened to Michael?!"

Determined to force her frenzied thoughts into obedience, Claire replied with a small, only slightly awkward, smile. "No. It's me. I had fried chicken for lunch and I don't think it settled very well on my stomach," Claire grimaced, hating that she had lied to her friend.

"Oh!" Eve visibly relaxed and released the breath she had been holding. "Well, that sucks. We need to get you home and in bed."

Before Claire could reply, Eve looked past her out the window and whistled low, "Wow!"

Claire turned in her seat so she could see in the direction Eve was looking. It was getting closer to sundown, so Claire had to squint as she reached a hand over her eyes to block the direct sun. Even with the sun in her eyes, she could tell the woman walking toward the shop was breathtaking. She was tall with high cheek bones and full lips. She had on a vintage, no…was that Victorian…outfit? More startling than her clothes was her striking long red hair that framed her face in soft ringlets, which seemed to shimmer in the sunlight.

Claire had never seen anything like her, certainly not in Morganville. And from the looks of everyone else, she knew they hadn't either. More than one man's mouth dropped open, as they just stopped speaking, and openly gaped at her. Claire wondered if they realized how ridiculous they looked and if they did, would they care. She doubted it.

The mysterious woman wasn't just beautiful, there was something else – she carried herself with purpose, an overwhelming confidence that made Claire feel small and ineffectual next to her. Claire almost spit out her mocha mid-sip, when she noticed even Oliver's head snap to attention, as the woman glided into the coffee shop. Oliver, the owner of Common Grounds, was well known for pretending to be a laid back hippie human, when in actuality, he was a ruthless and calculating vampire, rarely expressing any form of genuine sentiment.

She could almost feel Oliver's mind appraising this new stranger, as he very clearly looked her over from head to toe. Claire felt a bit like a voyeur; common decency told her not to stare, but she couldn't help watching, as his appreciation spread over his features. Oliver smiled with intense curiosity, his eyes locked on hers. Claire was shocked when she even saw him shift uncomfortably in his stance. What the hell?

The woman released Oliver from her gaze to survey the room, her deep blue eyes clearly searching for something – or someone.

As she turned toward the table Claire and Eve were sitting at, Claire found herself subconsciously studying the woman's attire. There seemed to be a contradiction of fabric and styles – hard edges mixed with soft feminine curves – and it somehow made perfect sense. The closest description Claire could think of was 'Steampunk Vixen'.

She was wearing a tight cobalt blue corset with black leather patches, accented with belts and buckles, crisscrossed over her slim frame. She had on a flared cobalt skirt with black leather trim, short in the front but longer in the back. Underneath, she wore black leather pants, again adorned with belts that snaked around her thin legs down to impressive-looking kick-ass boots, with heels so tall; Claire wasn't sure how she remained upright. Claire caught the quick glint of more than one silver dagger strapped to her outer thighs resting under the ruffles of her skirt.

Around her shoulders, she had a small tight black jacket that appeared more utilitarian, than fashion, in nature. Given the weapons Claire saw attached to her legs, Claire shivered as she wondered if the jacket was solely a convenient place to tuck a few more sharp defenses (or offenses).

There wasn't a trace of weakness to be found on her; instead she appeared to be…ready for battle. Claire glanced at Eve who was also staring at the woman with open appreciation – for her fashion sense. "I would die to have those boots!" Eve hissed. "And check out that top!" Clearly the woman must have been channeling her 'inner Eve' when she got dressed, because Claire could tell Eve loved everything about it.

Then the woman spoke, her attention back on Oliver, "Hello." Claire shivered again but had no idea why. The woman had a pleasant sounding, but oddly timbered voice. She prolonged her vowels; her accent gracefully sliding up and down, almost caressing her words as she spoke.

"Welcome to Morganville," Oliver responded, his tone forceful. "I haven't seen you here before. I am certain I would have noticed you before now. Have you been in town long?"

She smiled, still fully in control of the conversation, "No. I am new here and just getting acquainted…with all it has to offer."

Oliver's voice lowered, "—and do you like what you have seen so far?"

Claire cringed a little in disgust at Oliver's overt sexual overtones, but couldn't seem to tear her attention away.

"Hmmm. I think there may be potential in this sleepy little town".

Sleepy little town? Claire's eyes widened a little– so not the description she would ever use for Morganville.

"Do you think you will be staying, then?"

"I am…warming up…to the idea," the woman smiled, clearly enjoying herself.

"Give me a chance…and you'll set the world on fire," Oliver's clear confidence in his sexual prowess turned Claire's stomach.

Her laugh echoed like bells, "That's…an interesting…proposition, but I'm not quite sure you have the…stamina for it".

Wow, Claire couldn't believe the woman was right in Oliver's face, matching, and maybe even overpowering him, in innuendos. As the stranger looked around the coffee shop again, Oliver inquired, "Are you looking for someone?"

"Yes," she smiled again, but said no more. The woman turned toward the exit.

Oliver reached out to grab her arm, "Wait. At least tell me your name."

Her features transformed for the slightest second as she stared at Oliver's hand on her arm. She looked …dangerous. Oliver must have felt it too because he dropped his hand, but didn't back away.

"Anwyn," she purred as she headed toward the door.

"Who are you looking for? I might be able to help you!" Oliver called right as she hit the threshold.

She smiled a small, fierce and full-of-intent, smile as she glanced back to him. Then turned her back and simply stated, "Myrnin," as she walked out the door.