Oneshot goes to Writer Rider Dirty Thirties, according to the random generator I used!

Sorry I didn't get a chance to update it instantly; I've had a lot of stuff going on, but just know that the next chapter is (hopefully) worth the wait

Chapter 21:

Claire's POV:

Having evidently fallen asleep, I find myself being awoken roughly by Oliver. The expression on his face makes my heart sink; there's been no change. Whilst I never in one thousand years expected that Amelie would sacrifice Sam for me (or, rather, Myrnin), sleep brought with it an obtuseness that consciousness cruelly snatches away, and now I'm left with the knowledge that death must be soon.

"I take it that you've heard no word," I say as coolly as I dare. "Or if you have, it's basically telling you that you're a sleazy idiot who isn't getting what he wants?" This is pushing it, I can tell, and I have the distinct pleasure (or perhaps punishment, that's more likely) of watching the anger build on Oliver's face. He manages to calm down before he hits me, which surprises me, just like the absence of a sarcastic smile upon his lips.

"You'll pay for that, little girl," Oliver replies, his tone indicating how hard he's fighting to keep himself from showing his anger. "Just you wait until the time passes and I see proof that what you're saying is true. You'll rue the day you were first rude to me, I can assure you of that."

He's trying to scare me, to psychologically attack me whilst he remains unable to completely destroy me physically, and I'm ashamed to admit that it works; I can feel my breathing getting heavier, feel the thudding of my heart increasing in its frequency, and it scares me even further. Oliver's too good at this, he's had far too much practise torturing his prisoners over the years, and I'm just the latest in a long line of those who have suffered at his hands. If he wants me to suffer, I'll suffer, be it physically or not.

Very slowly, I take deep breaths in order to attempt to regulate myself and get my body back to normal, something which causes the expression on Oliver's face to change to a mixture of amusement and darkness, as though nothing good in him remains.

"You really do amaze me, Claire Danvers," he comments. "Time and time again, you've had a chance to give up—not just here, but in your entire time in Morganville—and yet you never have. You may not believe me, but my actions later on will pain me…all I want is Amelie, and you just happened to get in the way. I cannot go back on my word, yet the composure you have, it astounds me."

I suppose I'm meant to be impressed or something, or at least mollified because 'he has no choice', as he's said before, but I'm not. "If you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you left me alone; I don't want to have to put up with your face during my last few hours."

Oliver nods and, without another word, takes steps backwards before suddenly disappearing from my line of vision, making use of his vampire speed. His absence gives me a chance to look at the state of the room I'm in; it's lit by harsh electric lighting, the floor and walls made of concrete which seems covered in some sort of green mould stuff. There's a dampness in the air that suggests the room has very poor ventilation and that Oliver hasn't invested in a central heating system. I bet it isn't even his hidey-hole; the twisted man will probably have used some of Amelie's property that she's forgotten about.

Still, there's no point in over analysing my location; I've only got a few hours left. I may as well spend them asleep.

Myrnin's POV:

It takes a long time to cajole the machine in the corner to turn on, due to it never being used, but finally, it does, the screen's resolution shockingly low; what little I know about computers stems from Claire's teaching, but even I recognise that this one's quality is appalling.

That isn't the issue right now, however. The issue is the fact that I need to find something of Claire's that she has left in this laboratory—for I am not returning to the Glass House until I have a pinpointed location—and then remove the DNA coding that lies within. This then needs to be inserted into the machine, which will link into the machine (though I shan't tell the machine what I'm doing) and give me a general idea where she is located. The machine is too old to give me an exact location, so I shall require the maps Amelie insisted I store in here somewhere to look up the region and see which buildings Oliver owns. Knowing this man and his tricks, if in his right mind, he'll have deliberately chosen someplace either not on the map or that doesn't belong to him. However, the speed with which he enacted this plan (and actually formed it) as well as the state of mind he must be in at the shocking news that Sam has returned, I presume that he won't have been that precise in his planning.

Not dallying about, I follow the trails of Claire's scent, finding her jacket on the sofa. Its presence almost distracts me into the realisation that if I cannot find Claire, she will die, but I just about manage to concentrate on finding a stray hair on the collar. It isn't hard to find, Claire's hair seems to shed itself all over the place continually, yet it takes a minute or two to prevent the monster at the back of my mind surging forwards to protect me from the pain that this scenario has put me in. To go into the darkness and save myself from feeling anything other than insanity would be a blessing right now…but that is impossible when I have the responsibility I currently have: to save Claire.

Quickly processing the hair, I insert the information into the machine, pressing various buttons according to the manual I left with the metal junk when I made it. I knew that I would very rarely need it—normally, locating people would be left to the police or, in the rare occasion they're off the radar and they are a vampire, Amelie's services would be utilised, but given that Claire is not a vampire she cannot be found—and so therefore made a comprehensive (for me) manual which is surprisingly logical in its progression through the steps. For a creation when under the influence of the disease, I'm impressed with my handiwork.

Chug, chug, chug, the noise of the machine irritates me, and I consider bursting my eardrums just to alleviate the noise when I realise I'm out of blood; it wouldn't make for a good idea to require blood and then head into a house with a human I absolutely despise inside. Truly, there would be no worse thing for me to do. So I put up with the noise, humming as merrily as I can manage, because the alternative would be to cry—and crying isn't something that would be productive at this current moment in time.

Finally, the machine's display changes to a map of Morganville which, sadly, is extremely outdated. It has various buildings I recognise as being torn down in the nineteen eighties, when Amelie went through a phase of wanting to change things, upon it…and it is this general area where the machine is locating Claire. I recognise the region, though I cannot for the life of me think why; even when this map was in-date, which was during the fifties, I was not permitted to wander the streets of Morganville. Alas, there is no need to question this; I need to locate a more up-to-date resource than this machine.

Underneath a pile of priceless first-edition books, I find the maps that Amelie has updated every year since Morganville's conception, and I hastily spread the map out on the tabletop to analyse it. Countless glass bottles fall to the floor, spilling their contents everywhere, but provided no human enters the laboratory in the next few hours, it should be safe—it won't affect me, certainly. My priority is Claire, not the chemicals which can be replaced.

Using a piece of chalk left on the table, I ring the region which the machine has identified as where Claire is, and to my horror, realise that there is only one building in the immediate area around where the girl is—well, one building of any relevance. There are small huts on the site, but they are all closely guarded.

It is Amelie's home.

Oliver has found a way to get into Amelie's home—perhaps underground, I don't know—and is keeping Claire there. He really is playing it close to home with regards to Amelie to give her more chance to get to him, as though that would ever be a possibility.

For almost a minute, I stare at the space on the wall opposite where I currently stand, unable to process this. Oliver has surpassed what I believed he was able to do. He has infiltrated an organisation around Amelie that I believed to be near impenetrable. He has found access to the underground system—for that is the only place where Claire could be located; there is no way that he can have gotten himself access to Amelie's house—and evidently knows more about the location than myself.

He has the superior position.

All I can do is hope that the children are able to listen to me for long enough to do as I say and ensure that we don't all perish as we attempt to rescue one of the most important girls in my existence.

~x~

The girl—Evan is it?—splutters her drink back into her glass as I reappear in the Glass House and tell them of Claire's location.

"You and your stupid little machine contraption's wrong," she insists, though I'm not quite sure why she's so adamant that Amelie's home isn't Claire's location. "There's no way that Queen Bee would let Oliver onto her grounds, let alone with an unconscious girl. Let's start at his home or something obvious like that, he's not a master of disguise and stealth, is he?"

The boy vampire is about to agree with her until I flash him a look; he should understand from feeling the power Oliver possesses that that isn't what Oliver's like; the man is a danger, a menace to anyone who crosses him.

"You are, I presume, aware that Oliver is none other than Oliver Cromwell, the man who managed to overthrow the monarchy of England?" I confirm, stressing one of his greatest achievements. "Then, when the Parliamentary forces appeared to be as corrupt as the previous runners of the country, he culled them, leaving himself as the most senior man in the entire country. He slaughtered thousands of men, women and children because they defied him. He was the greatest strategist that the world has ever seen, I believe—"

Shane cuts me off. "Yes, yes, we don't need the history lesson, how is this going to help Claire?"

I feel my eyes flash red for he is being obtuse as ever, yet I manage to remain relatively patient. "You need to understand that you are up against the greatest fighter the world has ever seen; even generals in the second world war didn't match up to him in any aspect. There is a very slim chance that he will have left anything to chance, even with every decision having been made in a very short time scale; you must understand that you will be in danger. And more than that, he will not give up without a fight, if we even manage to locate where he is."

The three of them furrow their brows, and as they do, I divert my gaze to the clock above the mantelpiece. We have less than half an hour to save Claire. With my workforce, consisting of three people who hate me and are unable to go more than five minutes without arguing with one another, I am doubtful that we are going to succeed in our mission.

"Let's go," Michael says, his tone lacking the usual jovial edge that it usually has, even in my presence. He grabs the car keys from the side, and I immediately get excited; perhaps he will allow me to drive. We may be heading to save Claire, yet that doesn't prevent me from allowing myself the small pleasure of potential driving. Michael senses this however, and says, "you're not driving. I am."

Immediately, any rousing of my mood disappears and I'm back to how I was before: slightly despondent, and desperate to get out of here to find Claire. "Very well…but I'm not sitting next to that oaf," I reply, motioning to Shane who looks slightly relieved with my words.

The girl sighs. "I'll sit next to the crazy dude in the back, because if it prevents world war three, that'll be good enough for me."

Never have I been so happy for this girl to exist.

~x~

We pull up just alongside the boundary to Amelie's lands, a bad feeling settling over me. This location is meant to be hidden, yet some of the most vehemently anti-vampire people of Morganville—Shane in particular—are now aware of Amelie's most sacred place. Yet there is the positive that he is unable to enter without her permission…I suppose that is a slight positive.

The three of them turn to look at me as the car stops, and I sigh, wondering what I've done wrong now. "Yes?"

"Are you certain that this is right?" Michael pushes, and I have to resist rolling my eyes, instead focusing my attention on the gun in my hands.

"I'm about as certain as the sun is sure to rise in the morning," I reply quietly, not feeling the need to justify myself, and slightly irritated that I am required to. "Now if you wish to join me in this rescue mission, that would be greatly appreciated given that I have been banned."

The three of them finally exit the car, and I quickly look at the time on the analogue clock in the front to see that, until the deadline, we have less than ten minutes. I am not hopeful for the success of this mission.

Yet what else do I have but saving Claire?

Please don't favourite or alert without reviewing

10 reviews and I'll write someone a oneshot

ANY review will get a short snippet from the next chapter, so review!