Chapter 28:

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(Chapter updated for Project PULL)

"Where have you been?" Michael demands of me as soon as I enter the house which seems exactly the same as home, just isn't, about five pm in the evening, before I can even put my bag down. Most of the day has been a blur, particularly between my arriving at Common Grounds and then departing about twenty minutes ago, but he hasn't rang me or anything, so…

"I went to Common Grounds, as you know," I reply, walking past the blond haired boy who is my only 'family' in Morganville, now that Shane and Eve are no longer here. Or even Sam, to be honest. "He wanted to just tell me that because…because of Sam, I don't have to do English any more this year."

Michael looks disbelieving as I tell him this, using his vampire speed to move ahead of me and block my path into the rest of the house. "And that took you all of seven hours, did it?" he points out validly, raising an eyebrow. "You could have at least called to tell me that you hadn't been killed by some rogue vampire—or any vampire."

I shrug ever so slightly and move through the gap between his back and the wall to get into the living area – he could stop me, but he doesn't. This place is identical to our home, yet it lacks the aura that the Glass House has – had, since it no longer exists – and there's nothing here besides the necessities. This isn't a home, but it's the best we've got in the current situation, so we've got to make do.

"I was studying, as there isn't internet here, and I…I didn't think," I reply, my tone relatively neutral. "I'm sorry, Michael, the only time I remembered about ringing you was when I was sitting down to study, but then…then I got out my physics work and tried to forget everything, and so it just didn't sink in that you'd be worried."

His face seems to show a more relaxed expression as I turn around to face him, wondering if my story will be enough to make him forgive me for not being in contact for the past few hours. "I'm sorry for snapping; it's just…now Sam's gone, I realise that I needed to know that there was someone out there to protect me and you," he says softly, reaching out to pull me in for a hug. "And it makes me want to know where you are, just because…with Shane gone, Eve in the hospital and a complete lack of family in the area for us both, we're all each other has, now."

"I get it, Michael, I really do," I reply, wanting to move past him to get to my room and start planning for the events of the next few days. "I just…need time to think, yeah? I mean everything's changing so quickly, and everyone I seem to care about just—they're not here anymore, and what makes it worse is that I've only been here a few months."

He nods slowly and lets me go, his eyes never leaving me as I walk up the stairs to the equivalent of my room, as far as I can tell. Even as I shut the door, I can see his gaze directed towards me, and I know that he's going to be listening out for me and what I'm doing – there'll be no sneaking out of the house when he's awake, that's for sure.

I just hope that he's not keeping as good an eye on me all week, otherwise my mission will become impossible.

And Oliver would not be happy.

~x~

Three hours later, and I've got the basics of a plan. It was extremely hard to get a copy of Morganville's layout – probably because it makes it easier for vampires to get their prey, if humans don't know where they are – but I managed it, and began to rule out all regions where Amelie's home couldn't be. Then it became areas where she really wouldn't have her house – namely in the human housing estates, where violence statistics and drugs seem to be more abundant than actual people – and then areas which I recognised as being completely controlled by Oliver, so Amelie living there was about as likely as finding a cow which doesn't eat grass.

More than just the location, I know exactly how I'll get in past her guards, how I'll distract everyone from realising that there's something wrong with the Founder's security. I know how to get to Amelie, which buttons to press and then—

—then, her life will be over.

It's all sorted…besides for the actual killing. The actual murder of Amelie is still undecided – how do I kill the oldest vampire in the world? Surely it'll take more than killing someone like Michael or one of the police officers, because otherwise she would have perished a long time ago. She'll be able to fight back, again because of the survival to be the eldest vampire of them all, and she's got the natural predatory instincts that make it so much easier for vampires to hunt humans. The only thing I have on my side is that she is weaker because of Sam's death, as I saw at the funeral, and that she hopefully won't be expecting me to kill her – or even be in her home, I suppose.

Other than that, it's going to be a pretty uneven fight. All I can bank on is that these things are enough to incapacitate her, and make her weak enough for me to destroy. I know it will.

After all, when have my plans failed thus far?

~x~

Sleep isn't something that comes easy; even at three in the morning, when I can hear that Michael is sleeping, my mind can't focus on anything but the little, nitpicky details about what I'm going to do. Whilst the core of the plan is in place, I still need to sort out little things like transport, possibly an alibi if I don't get caught, and making sure that Michael isn't around as try to leave. I don't want to hurt him, definitely not, and I certainly don't want there to be suspicion from Amelie's supporters that he was part of the plan, because he most certainly isn't. Very little besides this mission makes sense to me – I don't care about anything that I think I should care about – but I know that if Michael goes down for it, then that's wrong. He doesn't deserve to be hurt.

And so I get up out of bed and begin to pace, imagining in my mind the route I'll take down through Morganville towards the Elder's Council building, behind which I'm fairly certain her home is, and then practising with the aiming of the darts to take out her guards. In my mind, I see them all falling on top of one another, and then my climbing over their dead bodies, up the flight of marble stairs…

…I see her kneeling on a cushion in a room which seems almost like a church, her eyes shut and her head bent; she's not facing me, but I know she must be able to hear me. She's muttering something, and her hands are clasped together, and yet she doesn't turn around, even when the hand with the stake in lifts slightly, as I try to find the best position by which to kill her.

In this dream-like world, she turns around at the last moment, her eyes wide and pleading, and yet I can see something that makes it seem like she wants to die, that in a strange and twisted way, I'm doing her a favour. Yet no words issue from her lips, and it's with a twisted glee that I plunge the stake through her heart, yanking out the UV light stick to burn her, in order to speed up the death; the stake would kill her, but in this world, it seems more prudent to end her faster, rather than run the risk of her survival.

In this world, I know what I'm doing. And it works.

Feeling more relaxed, I cease pacing and begin to climb back into bed, when I hear the strangest of noises from the garden downstairs. They're just outside my window, though naturally on the ground, and this rouses my interest, due to it being something out of the ordinary, not part of my usual routine.

Cautiously, I make my way downstairs, stopping to grab the emergency "incase of vampire attacks" kit that's in every home which has humans living there, and head into the kitchen to use the back door. The lock on the door creaks and I wince as I struggle to open it, fearing I'll wake up vampire Michael, but it soon slides open, revealing the dark garden beyond. Even the beam of the torch I hastily switch on doesn't reveal anyone – or anything – that could have been doing something to make that unique sound. Thinking back, it almost sounds as though someone was whispering something.

It almost sounds to me, now, as though someone was whispering my name.

I take tentative steps around the side of the house, my eyes straining to try and see whether there's anything there or not, but there isn't. I can't see anything on the other end of the garden either, and there isn't going to be anyone hiding within the bins, is there? Maybe it was just my imagination…maybe the visualisation of tomorrow stressed me out and had me thinking that Amelie knew what I was imagining…maybe…

"ARGH!" I scream, but the noise is muffled by the presence of a large hand over my mouth, something which dulls the sound to barely anything more than a squeak. Someone human has me, and they cause me to drop the torch, but even as I fight back, they don't falter in pushing me backwards towards the house. This is the world's worst kidnapper, or GBH committer, because they seem to want to protect me.

Because I'm facing the same way as him, I can't see who it is, but I'm sure—I'm sure that the smell…I recognise it. I do. I'm sure I do.

The person who is forcing me back inside the house doesn't just stop there; he carries on with me up the stairs, towards my room, and yet this doesn't concern me; I don't want to be concerned by anything other than my mission – now I've seen the disturbance, that's my focus. Anything can happen now, and so long as it doesn't prevent me doing Oliver's bidding, I can't say I'll do anything.

"Claire," the man speaks, and I freeze instantly, even as he locks the door. "It's me."

Shane.

"I…I…why are you back?" I hiss, tears streaming down my cheeks near instantly because he's supposed to have left! Oliver got him out! He made sure Shane didn't die, and part of the deal was that Shane left and never came back – but he's here, and that's wrong. "Shane. You were meant to leave so you would be safe! Oliver said—"

"Oliver did nothing," he says, but he's lying. I know he is. Oliver…Oliver said that he saved Shane. And there's nothing I can do but believe Oliver. Oliver is always right. He is. "He left me there to burn, but someone else saved me, Claire. Someone…someone who, relative to Oliver, is good."

He's wrong. He is. There isn't any way—he's wrong. And he's lying and it's…I never imagined seeing him again, especially not with him kidnapping me back to my room, to then talk to me. I never imagined what I would do when I saw him again – run my hands through his hair, kiss him, tell him I missed him and I love him – anything a normal person would do. Instead, all I can think of is Oliver, and how he is right, and that maybe, just maybe, he's better than Shane.

"No, you're wrong!" I whisper shout, throwing my hands into his chest to force him backwards, only succeeding because of the surprise factor. "I…I signed with Oliver to save you. You're lying! Why are you?"

"I'm not lying Claire; I missed you, and I came back to save you," he tells me, his voice low with urgency – but I don't believe him. "It isn't safe now, especially for you, but if you come with me now, I can save you. You're not past redemption yet, Claire, I promise."

It's almost as though he knows what I've done – but he can't. He hasn't been here, and I…he's wrong. He doesn't know anything, and I can't let him try and trick me. Oliver is right, he is lying, and if he stays here, he could try and scupper my plans.

"Oliver saved you," I whisper, taking another step closer to Shane. "He did. Nobody else did. You're going crazy, Shane; the run's caused you to go loopy. But Oliver can give you something to help you, and then you need to leave; it's too dangerous for you!"

"Oliver didn't save me," Shane repeats, and it doesn't affect me this time. "The person doesn't want me to tell you who it was, because they say that you need to figure it out for yourself, to see if you're able to be saved. But you know, Claire; deep in your heart, you know why I'm here and how to fix things. You know you do, Claire, so tell yourself!" he sounds so desperate, it almost makes me love him again, almost makes me do what he wants, but I don't. He isn't telling the truth, and that can't be allowed.

On the pretext of wrapping my arms around his neck to kiss him, I take in a piece of the knowledge I learned in one of the classes Oliver made me go to: immobilising Shane by pressing a specific place on his neck, which sends his entire mass to the floor in an instant. He isn't going to be a problem anymore.

It seems almost anti-climatic, for this to be over so quickly, but he isn't anything in the grand scheme of things; today is about killing Amelie, and Shane was just a warm up.

But as I get into bed, I find something: now, I can sleep.

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