Chapter 15:

Thanks for the reviews :)

urgh, ought to start history revision for Tuesday (and the fact I missed the knowledge based stuff because I chose to go on the Barcelona trip isn't a good thing) but I cannot be bothered...

Hope you enjoy this chapter

I don't own anything.

Oliver's POV:

She carried out my instructions perfectly. In fact, it was almost too perfect – she caused more destruction than I thought would be possible from a bomb prepared in three days because she planted it in the best place possible… it seems Claire has a terrorist inside of her.

And now the town is in chaos, Amelie is stressed because she thinks the bomb was for her and that the bomber was not aware of her sudden plans to leave and my plan is coming together.

Stage three can commence shortly. But first, it is time to allow Claire a little normality… even if it hurts me to be away from her. When I kissed her in her room, I almost lost control of my plan and just wanted to be with her. I almost gave up my plan for her; when, in fact, what I was going to do can only happen much later in the proceedings for power, not pleasure.

But Claire… well done!

Claire's POV:

"Michael!" I scream his name as loud as I can, desperate for him to come around the corner and be safe, for him to hold me in his arms and tell me that everything is alright. Where is Sam? Where is everyone in that damned building? "Where are you?" I continue to shout for him, dodging emergency service workers who keep bringing out people on stretchers, taking some to the lines of dead and some to the ambulances to be whisked to hospital.

"Claire, are you alright?" Travis Lowe asks me as he wraps another blanket around me to replace the one I shed. "It will be ok; everything will be ok," he comforts me, pulling me in for a hug as I begin to sob and sob.

"How will it?" I say rhetorically. "City Hall has been bombed! Who is inside? Who's dead? Who is in charge here? Oh god… Richard was in there!" I realise with a start, fighting to get over there because it's Richard! He's in charge of everything here – he can't have died!

"Richard has been taken to hospital – he's in surgery for emergency heart work," Lowe reveals grimly. "I'm in charge here. so I want you to go and wait over there for me, ok? I can't make you leave as I'm guessing you want to wait to find Michael, but just relax, ok? it isn't as bad as it looks," he continues but I can tell he is lying. It's worse than it looks. I nod slowly, knowing that he needs to get back into the swing of things in his rescue mission in order to save more people: this is the first time I have considered the vampires to be people but they are the ones who are dying as well... it isn't just the humans this time.

So I sit on the step and wring my hands, throwing my little bag to the side until I remember my phone. Michael must have had his phone - perhaps I could try and ring him!

My trembling fingers scroll down to his name and I take a deep breath before pressing the big green button.

The dial tone happens before it rings and rings...

... And I get his answer phone.

Just hearing his warm voice in the answer message makes me realise that I am alone here - he is missing and could be dead, Eve is on life support and Shane... Shane could be anywhere and I wouldn't have a fricking clue. I don't have anyone - the one morsel of company I had when the bomb went off was Oliver and he left here a long time ago to get to the Elder's Council where presumably Amelie is... And the injured vamps - wouldn't be a good idea having them in a hospital with freely bleeding humans, now, would it?

I feel anxious all over again and so keep ringing Michael's phone to just be able to hear his voice.

That is, until an extremely frustrated Amelie answers it.

"Will you please stop ringing this phone?" she asks but I get the feeling that it isn't optional. "I would have thought a supposedly clever girl such as yourself would be able to tell that if someone doesn't answer after fifteen calls, they are doubtful to answer the sixteenth either!"

Something about her tone, her, makes me want to snap. I remember that she was the one who ordered Shane to the death. I remember she left the party early, most likely on purpose, so the bomb that was probably for her didn't get its intended target - just innocent bystanders... Even though the vamps killed aren't exactly innocent. But none of them deserved to get blown up!

But I take a deep breath and stop myself from insulting her because I guess she does have a lot on her plate... and I'm guessing that to insult Amelie would be one of the last things I do right now.

"Do you know where Michael is, ma'am?" I address her politely, hoping that the excessive politeness will make her more likely to answer me.

"He is here, obviously," she snaps back. "Before you say anything, no, you can't come here unless you wish to be a donor for my injured people. That is, of course, your choice but I think your... Protector may have a problem with that," she finishes and I get the idea that she doesn't like how I signed with Oliver. Yet if she 'wanted me', she should have offered first. And perhaps she shouldn't have sentenced Shane to death. After she did that, there was no chance of me doing anything that required optionally spending time with her slash doing her bidding.

"Is it possible for me to speak with Michael?" I ask softly, hoping that she will hand the phone over - but why didn't he answer originally? That's a worrying point… surely he would have answered himself if he could.

"I haven't time to deal with your petty requests and problems - my people are dying faster than they should and they have been murdered!" she says this sharply before hanging the phone up with a bang.

Well, she was polite! I can see why people hate her - she isn't exactly endearing to those she speaks to, is she? But what do I do? I now know Michael is no longer in City Hall - how he got out, I don't know - so I needn't wait around. Should I ignore Amelie and just go to the council building specifically for the vampires or should I go home and wait for Michael there?

Option three: call Oliver and ask if he will get Michael to speak with me. It's not like Michael can be seriously injured because that would leave me pretty much alone. I couldn't cope with that, being the only one of the four of us left, especially with me being the newest of our party.

"Oliver, can I speak to Michael?" I desperately ask as soon as he answers his phone, not even bothering with a hello.

He chuckles softly but it sounds strained, as if he doesn't really believe in it. That's worrying; if the situation is so bad that bad ass Oliver is worried, we're all screwed. "Claire, he is injured… the only benefit you could give him right now is your blood," he tells me honestly, and I clench my fist.

"If I come down to the council building, would it be possible to give blood without being killed?" I request, feeling some sort of responsibility for Michael being injured but not being sure why. It was sheer luck that Oliver and I were outside when the bomb went off… otherwise I would definitely be dead, if Michael is obviously extremely injured.

Oliver is stunned into obvious silence – a first! But he seems to be calculating before finally replying. "Ok," he says, sounding surprised that I would give my blood up to a vampire. But it's Michael: I need him alive and if the only way is giving blood, I will do it. "I can protect you… but you must stay close to me, Claire. They are very injured and the younger ones aren't given blood, as it is in age order – Michael will be a worthy recipient of your blood," he continues, and I shudder. If I wasn't doing this for him, he wouldn't be getting any blood. That's just favouritism… but it's also how humans work. In society, if there is something to be given out (for example, a flu jab), the elderly are given it first, as they are weaker… I guess it isn't the exact same in this situation but it is close enough.

"I'll be over in about five minutes," I say before hanging the phone up in the same manner as Amelie did. Then I begin dodging the emergency workers who continue to bring injured and dead people from the building, now that the fires are finally out, and head across Founder's Square to where the Elder's Council building is…

As soon as you begin to get near to it, you can see the calamity. Every single injured vampire is here, some 'walking wounded' loitering by the door because they can't get in. Oliver is waiting for me outside, baring his fangs at the wounded who make to go for me as I walk up to them. I try to exude an air of confidence that I don't really feel because I know that showing them weakness only makes them more likely to attack.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Oliver confirms with me, sounding almost concerned. Then he continues, "You will have to do a lot for me over the next few days, in order to help sort out this disaster, and I don't want you to be collapsing on me."

"I'll be fine," I promise before a worrying thought hits me. "Wait, there is the normal apparatus to draw blood, isn't there? He isn't going to bite me?"

Oliver snorts as he propels me through the halls, heading up a grand staircase which is full of people moving up and down. He grabs hold of my shoulder to make sure that I don't get lost and pushes me ahead of him, so I am always in his sight. That's worrying but comforting at the same time – I'd rather be with an uninjured Oliver than near to the normally less predatory but injured vampires loitering around us. "No, of course he isn't going to bite you, silly girl," he sounds almost exasperated as if I asked a stupid question. "I don't have the inclination to let him bite you and then you die… and even if you didn't die, I wouldn't want to listen to his whining about biting someone when he never wanted to," he continues – of course, it would be a selfish reason why I wasn't getting bitten, not because he was worried for my safety.

He pushes me through a door and we emerge in a corridor which is much cooler than the rest of the building, and is entirely empty. Moving quicker now, we head for the door at the end of the corridor, a well maintained wooden door which opens into a warm room and which contains merely three vampires: Amelie, Sam and Michael. Both the elder vampires are standing without a scratch on them, but where is Michael?

I look over and see Michael slouched on the floor, obviously majorly injured. His eyes are closed and there are bloody cuts all over his body –they aren't healing as they should do. I can't explain it, but he just seems so much paler than normal, more fragile.

Amelie whirls around as soon as she evidently gets a whiff of my human scent, or hears my heartbeat either one, and snarls at one of Oliver or me – it doesn't really matter which one. The snarl still makes my hairs stand on end and I flinch away from the venom in her face, the inhumanity of the crimson eyes staring at me with what I think could be hatred.

She is still wearing the dress she was wearing at the party: the pale milky coloured thing, although now it appears smeared with vampire blood, her hair coming out of it's jewelled bun with the frantic nature of what is going on. But her appearance doesn't detract me from the lack of humanity I see in her eyes…

"Unless I am now turning crazy, I believe I told you not to come," she snaps and I can tell that this is directed at me. But then she turns to Oliver, "What are you doing, bringing her here? Are you trying to torment the poor boy?" she presses, showing some sort of emotion for Michael. Ahhh, it's because he is Sam's Grandson and she loves Sam – she doesn't want Sam hurting because Michael is injured or in pain.

"She wants to donate some blood to him," Oliver says, his hand tightening on my shoulder which betrays his anger with Amelie. It isn't tight enough to hurt – yet, anyway – but feels rather nice and comforting… which isn't what I would have expected from Oliver touching me.

Amelie's gaze returns to mine and she seems calculating, as if she can't believe I am willing to do this. Her cold grey eyes search mine and I resist the urge to shiver as she seems to be able to read my mind. That's impossible – right? At least, I hope it is… otherwise she will be able to see all my anti-Amelie thoughts…

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she confirms with me, and she sounds almost human. I think the main word there is almost. She still is detached and evidently doesn't feel any emotion for me, simply feels she needs to ask this question.

"It's only a pint or so, right?" I shrug, managing to force a slightly shaky laugh out. She seems uncertain but nods anyway, moving closer to me. As I see her at a close distance, she is so much younger and less self assured than she seems from a distance; she doesn't have the confidence in here and the dress just seems plain wrong on her. She doesn't seem the leader I thought she was…whether that that is because of the worry she is evidently feeling or for other reasons, I'm not sure but I guess it is good to see she isn't entirely inhuman.

Suddenly, she pulls me from Oliver's grasp with ease and drags me across the room to near where Sam is standing. He looks at me with sad eyes but seems almost gracious, thankful, that I am doing this.

"Are you doing it?" I ask in shock, as Amelie wipes my arm down with an anti-bacterial wipe before sorting the equipment. My tone evidently breaks into her concentration because she stops arranging the blood taking equipment and looks at me with a soft smile.

"Yes, I am not entirely consumed with bloodlust when I see blood, Claire," she says, a bitter edge to her voice – one I wouldn't associate with her since she gave me that smile. Strange, her moods change after a second – I'm getting whiplash already. "I am perfectly capable of taking your blood and not drinking it myself, or getting carried away with how much to take. That is, unless you don't trust me… I am sure I can arrange to have a nurse brought over here, but I doubt that Michael can survive that long," the bitterness is all I can hear in her voice as she continues prepping me without waiting for an answer.

I take a gulp of air and look over at Oliver who nods slowly, evidently agreeing with Amelie – that has to be the first time I have seen them agreeing. Rather, the first time I have asked them both something (a limited thing) and they have came to the same conclusion.

"Quickly," I whisper and she looks up at me again, the smile back. she nods before slipping the needle straight into my vein – of course, a vampire wouldn't have a problem finding my blood source.

It's just ketchup, I think to myself as the thick crimson liquid begins to fill up the bag. I glance around the room and see that Oliver is entirely not bothered about my blood but Sam is holding his breath carefully, deliberately not looking in my direction. And Michael… well, Michael doesn't even move. He doesn't twitch or do anything I would expect to see a new vampire doing around freshly flowing blood.

He looks dead.

"All done," Amelie says after about five minutes and two bags entirely filled. She removes them and hands them to Oliver, who promptly takes them over to Michael and begins to pour them into his mouth. I look away at this, soon hearing noises from Michael, and realise just how weak and unsteady I am. "That was a great thing you did for him, Claire… he will be thankful," Amelie whispers to me gently, showing more emotion than she ever has to me before. I nod slowly, unable to move at more than a lethargic pace as she removes the needle from my arm and covers my wound with a tissue to stop the bleeding.

It stops soon enough, but as I try to stand up, I begin to fall. I would hit the floor, but Sam manages to catch me – not hard, with vampire speed – in both arms and steadies me. "Whoa," he says, holding onto me still as I shake even more. "Amelie, I will take her home," he calls over my head, but it seems as if I am hearing it in a detached manner – my ears aren't working properly.

I hear words such as "portal" and "Glass House" but don't get the connection between them. Everything is fuzzy, like cotton wool is in my ears, and I barely feel it as Sam swings me into his arms.

My eyes drift shut but my last thought is of Michael, and hoping he is safe. As if he isn't… well, I'm alone here, aren't I?

What do you think?

Over 3000 words – whoop xD that's always my target but most of the time I fall way short of that!

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Vicky xx