Sorry, sorry, sorry! I got super busy with school and other writing obligations and just a whole bunch of crap! I'm really sorry this one took so long. :( I will try to keep that from happening again.

Also, heads up; this story will be coming to an end soon, sadly. I've had fun, and I'm happy that some of you (not all, I'm sure) enjoyed it. Anyway, sorry again for taking so long to update! Please enjoy!

Chapter 10

Amyr watched calmly as Deredon unlocked the thick door. They both tasted the familiar scent on the air, but they also scented blood. Lutharathzmus's blood. The room beyond was blanketed in the stench, and they feared what they'd find.

But thankfully, the cell was not grotesquely splattered with blood as Amyr had imagined. There was only Luth, his shaggy, copper hair a mop on his head and his knees hugged tightly to his chest. He sat perfectly in the center of the cell, and he only moved to blink up at them.

"Come on, man. We're getting out of here," said Deredon. He stepped inside and held out a hand to the other boy. For a moment, Luth stared at Deredon's hand as if he did not understand, but the hesitation disappeared quickly. Both boys hurried out of the room and moved on down the hall, but Amyr stood still, watching Luth go. Something was off about him. He hadn't even glanced at Christabelle, supported on Amyr's shoulder, as he'd passed. The two had always been sparing and inconsistent in their displays of affection for each other, but she found it strange that he did not seem even the slightest bit worried about her. Has something happened? she wondered.

She did not have time to dwell long on the subject for Deredon quickly discovered the cell which held Moxie. As he anxiously jammed the key into the lock and wrenched open the door, Amyr hobbled closer, aware of their other companions, Michael and Oliver, drawing up behind her.

"Moxie? Moxie!" Deredon called, worry flowing unfiltered in his tone. Inside, the cell was dark, but almost immediately, a small shape darted out from the shadows. Amyr recognized the blond curls and tomboy grin. Moxie clung to Deredon, her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs linked about his waist.

"Now that we've gathered your friends, might I suggest that we exit at once?" Oliver droned, sounding utterly bored and untouched by the scene before him.

Deredon apparently agreed one hundred percent; as soon as she released him, he hooked one arm under Moxie's knees and the other around her shoulders and hoisted her up to carry her like a princess. She looked startled and like she might protest, but he began rushing toward the exit before she could utter one word.

The rest of them followed, glancing about, still wary of the lab coated men.

As Deredon led the way out, Amyr staggered along with Christabelle. The younger girl was not tired in the slightest, but the elder stumbled over her feet often. Amyr considered simply picking up Christabelle and carrying her, but she knew that Christabelle's pride would not allow it. She wished that Luth would offer; he would be the only person she'd allow to carry her. Yet he still acted totally aloof to his friend's condition.

Finally, Deredon pushed open a cream painted door to bath them with the night's breath. They piled out the doorway to observe their surroundings. Amyr recalled the path back to Morganville, but she did not think it the safest place to seek refuge at the moment. The Facility's people would still occupy the town considering their interest in its nocturnal occupants.

"Where do we go now?" Michael asked.

"I might be able to get us back to Morganville, but I'm not certain," said Moxie. She looked at each of them with an intense, dark gaze as if expecting them to challenge her. She'd always been rather aggressive.

"For now we should find shelter," Oliver declared. "The sun will be rising soon. I don't want to be caught out in its rays."

"We're in the desert. Where do we find shelter from the sun?" Michael scoffed.

"I know where we can go," Moxie announced suddenly, a secret in her voice. "But you're probably not going to like it."

Deredon ruffled her scruffy hair fondly. "What's your idea, Moxie?"

"We could just stay here, inside the Facitlity."

The vampires both burst out in protest while the Specials stayed quiet. Amyr wondered at their different way of dealing with situations. She'd always carefully and civilly contemplated dilemmas with her pack, each listening to the others' ideas. But these vampires seemed less tolerant of suggestions.

When the pair quieted, Amyr said softly, "She may have a point."

"How so?" Oliver snapped, glaring at her unbelievingly.

"Now that we have taken control of the building, the people inside pose little threat to us. Our powers give us enough of an advantage. Until we can find another solution, we would be unwise to dismiss the possibility of using the Facility for shelter."

Oliver blinked, his coal eyes glistening in the moonlight. He was silent for a long moment then he straightened his shoulders and nodded as if he hadn't just fervently rejected the idea just seconds ago. "I suppose that is the wisest choice for the moment." Then he stepped back toward the door, reentering the torturous prison which they had so recently escaped.

O.o.O

The air lay still around them. Claire blinked sleepily at the twinkling stars above. They'd passed Morganville's town limits some time ago; much to her surprise, Amelie had let them through without a word. Now they were traversing the desert, the only sign of civilization the fading tire tracks in the sand that Lirgameth had found.

Dawn would soon be upon them, and Claire knew she should have been worried about the vampires, but she didn't have enough energy to worry.

Shane's voice brought her mind back down from the heavens above. "Should I give you a piggyback ride?"

Claire smiled at him. "That's alright. I don't want to slow you down."

"You? Slow me down?"

"Hey, I'm pretty heavy despite my vertically challenged stature."

"Oh yeah?" To prove her wrong, he swept one arm under her knees and the other around her arms and swung her around in a wide circle. She screamed and clutched at his thick shoulder—half in fright of flying from his grasp and half because she simply wanted to grab at his steady, comforting muscles.

"Ahem." The throat clearing source turned out to be Amelie, which Claire and Shane discovered once he'd stopped whirling her around. The couple blinked at her. "Perhaps if you were to pay attention you might realize that we have arrived at our destination and that it is foolish to continue your…tomfoolery."

Indeed, when they looked up, before them stood a very plain building with gray cinderblocks and a metal roof. It was amazingly inconspicuous, being the lone structure in the surrounding flatland. It was a wonder nobody had discovered it and questioned its purpose. But, then again, they were not far from Morganville, the strangest place Claire knew to exist; it wouldn't be surprising if a little oddness had rubbed off on places close by.

"What now?" Shane asked, setting Claire on her feet.

Eve stepped forward, gazing solemnly at the building above. "We walk in, and kick some ass."

"It's a bit unpolished but sounds like a plan," Myrnin chuckled.

O.o.O

"Oliver," Michael hissed.

The vampires stood separate from the others in the big room they'd chosen to use as a base. Oliver fixed his dark gaze on the younger vampire. "What?" he said in a flat tone.

"I know you've probably already realized this, but we need provisions."

Indeed, the thought had crossed Oliver's mind, but upon closer inspection of the blond boy, Oliver understood. Vampires had naturally pallid skin, but their veins did not usually protrude from their skin as Michael's did. He was hungry. He needed blood fast. Oliver wondered when he'd last fed. Thankfully, Oliver had been drinking his meal right as he'd been taken, so he was not in so dire a state; he had not been subjected to Michael's exerting experiments either, though. "There is nothing we can do for it now. We will have to wait. We cannot very well send them for supplies." He jerked his head at the Specials.

Amyr bent over Christabelle who she'd laid carefully on the floor. Lutharathzmas milled aimlessly about the middle of the room. The other two, Deredon and Moxie, had split off in search of food—human food, useless to Oliver and Michael.

"What are we going to do now?" Michael wondered aloud. He didn't sound particularly frightened, just concerned. Oliver felt disgust twist his mouth at Michael's incredibly vigilant human emotions.

Not deigning to answer his question, Oliver moved to examine Christabelle's condition—if only to escape Michael's annoying speak.

"She will not last. We must do something or she will die," Amyr stated calmly, though her voice reeked of worry.

"Perhaps they have medicines here," Oliver suggested, brushing his fingers along Christabelle's cheek. She leaned into his caress as if the cold touch comforted her. For a moment, he lingered, lost in the experience. Then he blinked and realized what his actions looked like. Straightening up, he announced, "I'm going to look for medicine for Christabelle."

"I will go with you." The words were so unexpected, they nearly made Oliver jump. Nearly. Lutharathzmas, the one who'd spoken, stared at him blankly as though he did not even understand his own words.

Oliver frowned and opened his mouth to reject the idea, but Amyr cut in. "I think that is for the best."

When he glowered at her, Oliver saw something in her face—relief. But as she watched Lutharathzmas walk to leave the room, he got the sense it wasn't about the possibility of helping Christabelle.