Chapter 11

I don't own anything

So I basically got like almost 0 reviews last chapter, but I updated because I felt bad as it had been such a long wait last time. Don't expect that next time, though, if you don't bother to review!

Claire's POV:

Oh my God…no…no, I can't believe that Amelie is going to kill me if I don't find Sam. She can't…why would she? I'm valuable to her, keeping Morganville's balance of power stable with Myrnin, and she definitely needs me. I help her more than she probably realises, going to the damned ball when she wants me to go, going with my boss rather than my boyfriend just to keep her happy – and now she wants to kill me?

I swing my legs off the cot bed that Myrnin made me sleep on and bury my head in my hands, throwing my matted hair over my shoulder. He knew about this – that much is obvious from the way she phrased everything. If he hadn't have known, there would have been the explanation of why she wants to kill me, yet all she did was remind him that my life is the penalty if we do not find Sam. She doesn't even know he's alive – and now Myrnin has chased off to her office with her to probably plan how to kill me, since it's obvious that we won't find Sam. We have a basic idea of about forty places where he could be in this town and I bet he'll be in none of them – I'm going to die.

As well as the fact he's probably telling Amelie that he'll kill me himself, I bet his antics will draw the date for it forwards to today, this evening, any time other than when she originally said because he'll have made her so angry that she doesn't want me around anymore. Why she is being like this, I don't know – true, I angered her by insinuating about her loving Oliver more than Sam, yet I would never have expected her to have gone as far as this. I suppose that this shows what true love does to people, makes them act irrationally, without an actual thought process to their actions besides their desired end goal.

Myrnin. The damned man…he's dropped me in it big time and he didn't even bother to tell me! It's just like back when everything came out about what he did for Sam when we were in the graveyard – I just want to punch him so hard, to hit him again and again to vent my fury out at him. Yet I don't want to hurt him either, a part of me reacting furiously as I plan how hard I can whack him with some of the equipment in this lab. he's such a confusing man: sometimes, I think he really, really cares for me – like Shane does – and then others, I'm almost like bait for his plans, a diversion he can throw at Amelie to ensure that he doesn't die.

I can't remain here any longer: if this is going to be my last day or two, I don't want to just sit around whilst I wait for Myrnin to come back so he can protect me as I find Sam: it's me who is going to die, not him, so I don't see why I should be subjected to waiting for him to get back from his little negotiations with Amelie. There's no chance I'm going to get back to sleep now, with the nightmares I would have if I stopped to think about what Amelie was saying in detail, conjuring up images of what could happen – the nightmares would be worse than the actual deed itself, probably. No, sleep is not possible for me. it's the thing that would destroy any dregs of belief that I could possibly continue to clutch onto that we – I – can find Sam before he kills again, as well as in the time frame set.

It's silent in the lab – there's no chance that he is here, the portal completely locked up so it would take him a good few minutes to get through and back to me. I can't figure out if that's so that there's no chance of me hearing their conversation if I would happen to wake up, or simply a precaution so that Amelie can't send anyone through if she happened to get ridiculously angry with me through what Myrnin says.

My eyes drop onto a cloak on the side that's pretty thick and warm looking, evidently what Myrnin wears when he goes outside in the sun, if he's feeling particularly weak that day, and I slip it on over my shoulders. It has to be filled with weapons in discrete places, and I'm not disappointed when I find a knife in the first pocket, which is always a good start. Breathing in through my nose, I find the scent from the cloak strangely appealing, the unmistakable smell of Myrnin drawing into my nostrils and doing strange things to my brain. It's so tempting, the clarity of each molecule of it making my mouth water as I want to smell the real thing, rather than the almost imitation for the lack of him being around. I don't want to think like this, especially with everything that is going on as well as Shane, but I can't help it, a good portion of my brain continuing to think of the almost drug-like smell the cloak brings to me as I begin to prepare for my departure.

It's cold outside if last night is anything to go by, so I need this – it will help me keep warm and more inconspicuous in the dark places I know I'll be visiting, to humans at least. Vampires will be able to smell me from god know's how far away, but at least a human may assume that I'm a scary vampire (good luck with that) and that they shouldn't approach me. Alternatively, this could make me a target, but I'm thinking I'll take my chances if it means I can stay warm – I didn't think last night to bring more than blankets and you can't really walk around wrapped in those.

The list of places we were going to search together lies on the side of the table in a handy location, right next to one of the powerful torches we took out last night and that I used to guide my way. The two of them are there and I make sure that I don't pick up the one that I used because that has all the reminders of those minutes when I exploded at him about his desires to kill me. That was a bad moment and I don't really want to be carrying that around with me all day when I'm going into potentially ridiculously dangerous situations.

The blood cooler is on the other side of the lab, so I make my way across there carefully, just incase the locking of the portal triggered the bombs (seriously, there is absolutely no difference between bombs and mines) and that moving the heavy box means that I'll blow myself to smithereens. A bonus to that, on the other side, is that I don't have to face Amelie and tell her I failed – not going to be a brilliant situation that, is it? I still can't believe that Amelie wants to kill me just because I'm not going to find Sam – I just don't know how she can be behaving in such a manner towards me just because I yelled at her. Sure she misses Sam and didn't exactly deal with her pain towards his passing properly, yet I don't see how she needs to react quite this bad, just to get his body back.

"Well, that was a bright idea," I mutter to myself as I try and lift the blood cooler up, but it is way too heavy. All that happens is that I end up knocking it over with a thud, the contents spilling out onto the floor in a sea of crimson. Thankfully all the blood is in bags, but it still sickens me to see how much extra blood Myrnin has been storing up -this is extra to what he needs, blood that he probably normally takes to ensure that he doesn't bite me again. Does this mean that I've been in more danger these past few months since he started this collection than I perhaps would have normally been, because he hasn't bothered to drink this? Does it mean that he was more likely to bite me if I had perhaps cut myself, that he wouldn't have been able to restrain himself like he would have if he had been entirely sated, rather than simply satisfied? That's a question for him later – if I make it through.

Something tells me that that isn't entirely likely.

All the things I need gathered together, I head up the stairs at the front of the lab, cursing as one foot nearly falls through one of the larger holes in the second to top stair – if I had fell, I'd have landed in the middle of the bags and bags of blood, which would be a nice addition for Myrnin if he happened to come back. However, I manage to keep my balance – just – and climb out of the lab in one breath, not daring to breathe incase I tip myself backwards.

Outside, I walk slowly down the alleyway, my eyes scanning over the list of places I can get to during the day. I don't want to go to the really dangerous places, like where Morley used to hang out, without Myrnin because at least he can protect me. I may be a fast learner, yet that doesn't really help me fight off vampires – in the multiple – to stop them from killing me if that's what they want. I'll just stick to those places more along the beaten track where there's less chance of me being attacked and not being found for weeks.

Granma Day is sitting on her porch, yet she's facing the opposite way so I think she can't see me. However, as I walk by, she calls my name, "Claire? Were you not coming to say hello to Granma Day?" she sounds hurt by my attempts to get by her without her realising, something which I also realise is out of character for me because I always see her when I can. I don't want her thinking something is up and then…and then blaming Myrnin when I die. Even though it'll be his fault in all technicalities since he's involved everywhere (starting with Sam's taking of the potion to not telling me about this ultimatum Amelie gave him) in it, I don't want Granma Day going crazy – she's a very scary lady when she wants to be.

"Hey, Granma," I smile as I walk up the steps towards her chair, deciding that there's no harm in taking ten minutes out to talk to her. "How are you?"

"A lot better than you are, girlie," she surprises me by sounding as if she knows what's going on, which both surprises and doesn't surprise me at the same time. She's old "friends" (if such a term can be used between a vampire more than one thousand years old and a human) with Amelie, so I presume that she's probably heard everything about Sam's state of absence from his grave. "Come sit and tell me all about it," she urges me, patting the chair next to her with a concerned expression on her face.

"I…I don't know what I can tell you," I whisper hesitantly, unsure whether I should go to tell her everything or stop at what Amelie knows.

"The White Queen told me that dear Samuel's body has been taken and that she has told you that you and the trapdoor spider have three days – two now, for I presume she would be counting yesterday as a day – to find him or you're doomed." so basically, Amelie told her everything that she herself knows about the situation.

"That's it," I sigh, leaning back in my chair and squeezing my eyes shut. "Granma, I…I don't think we're going to find him. And she's going…she's going to kill me if I don't find him," tears begin to spill out of my eyes as I tell her what I heard, unable to stop the overreaction to my own words.

She says nothing, simply allows me to cry it out for a few moments, speaking only when I am once again quiet. "Child, hush. She is hurting, can you not see that? Though it would be more than my life is worth to betray the confidence she has in me, I know all about the struggles with her and Samuel. She has not moved on from him, Claire, and this is only reviving all past memories of him in the most painful of ways," her voice is low and reminds me of Amelie's own tone.

"So…so she's behaving irrationally and she isn't going to…?" I trail off as she shakes her head slowly and calmly.

"I never said that, Claire. I know nought what goes on inside that head of her's, though I presume that if you don't bring her Sam, she will never behave rationally again. No, but I can say that you've a great ambassador for your life in that trapdoor spider of yours because, from what Amelie said," her final sentence surprises me, for what has Myrnin done that is a great enough problem (besides, you know, for the whole telling me about Sam's disappearance) for Amelie to tell her confidante?

"What do you mean?" I inquire, wiping my eyes as I lean forwards to try and get the explanation out of the elderly woman. However, now she realises what she has said, I can see a closing of a gate in her eyes, something that signifies to me that she isn't going to say a single word about it.

"I'm not going to tell you, as you probably know, but just remember that no matter what happens, he's not going to give up without a fight," she tells me, a small, yet not entirely approving smile upon her lips. "And perhaps you are debating what could be, not what will be, girl. After all, you've got brains and legs – you can get out looking for him now and find him." she smiles properly this time, reaching out to squeeze my hand before pulling me to my feet somehow without moving herself.

"Thanks," I say as I walk down the steps, watching as she turns around to watch me walk. "I'll see you later, ok?"

She chuckles slightly, with only the hint of humour, "You better, or I'll be having words with the White Queen myself."

And, with that, I walk away.

~x~

There's a building not far from Myrnin's lab that apparently he could be in, but there's no chance I'm going in there. As I walk past it, a shiver runs down my back – it's entirely inhibited by vampires, I'm sure of it, and they're not the vampires that I happen to spend my time with. They're the vagrant ones, the ones either banned from attending the ball or who were sat furthest away from the table I had been seated at, due to my partner. There's absolutely no chance that I would be able to go in there and walk out alive without Myrnin protecting me.

Myrnin…sometimes, I hate him so much for basically ruining my life, then others I think what would my life be like without him? I can't actually remember a day in Morganville that I haven't known about Myrnin; sure there were the first few weeks, but they happened so long ago that they're mingled in with pre-Morganville memories. Myrnin is pretty much my entire Morganville past and present, the one who gets into every main event that has happened here – even my first pay cheque in life came from Myrnin! He's such a huge part of my life and it pains me every time that Shane tries to make me leave working for Myrnin because, well, he's one of my best friends and I get on with him so well. He's the only person who completely gets me, who understands how I can spend hours on one tiny detail in a formula to get something to be absolutely perfect, who knows how I work in silence because it's easier to concentrate, not because I'm moody.

But he's not the focus right now, or the thoughts of confusion about him and what it sometimes feels like between us or Shane and everything – why can't things just be normal and easy to work through, like normal people's lives? But oh no, I have the complex love life and spend my time with the vampire who loves another but is with another…yay!

I run past the last part of the house with the darkened windows and hope with all my heart that I never have to go in there. If we find Sam first, it'll mean that we don't have to go to the scary house…we just may find him in a place that I haven't see yet and that may be scarier than this place.

~x~

I head towards Sam's old flat, which I know Amelie kept vacant because she couldn't abide someone else to be where he lived – and I have a feeling, at first, she went out and visited it. The door to the building is unlocked and I slip through it, embracing the darkness for a moment because it means I can hide from the couple of people scurrying around at midday…evidently, everything that's gone on in Morganville, especially of late, I guess that nobody wants to be out in public alone. So I walk through the entrance bit and through three or four different corridors to find the door that I want, knowing that it will be open: it's never been locked, not that any human would dare to go into the flat of a vampire – especially a dead one that was the lover of the Founder. Amelie told me a long time ago that she would never lock the door, incase those who deserved to be close to Sam decided to visit, and I'm thankful – maybe it'll mean that I can find him here.

One hand clenched inside my cloak with a blood bag in the middle, I push the door open and take a deep breath of expectation. I've built it up in my mind to the point where I half expect to find him lounging on his sofa, waiting for a human to come past so he can pounce…but there's nothing.

Absolutely nothing is found that shouldn't be in the flat – or, rather, shouldn't be there after the occupant died – and it's almost an anticlimax to be faced with the empty room. The easiest place he could have been and he's not here…if I were a pessimistic person, I'd say that that shows where the afternoon shall be heading, into dangerous situations, but I'm not so I'm just going to say that it's a small setback.

But, ultimately, it's one that shortens my life expectancy.

I replace the blood bag in my pocket and dig the list out to cross off this place on it, leaving one less place to go look at. I don't even want to contemplate looking at the amount of other places I have to go look because that'll just depress me and I want to be on the top of my game as I search in scary places.

Retreating out of the building with haste, I dig my phone out of my pocket, grateful that I stopped to pick it up before I left the lab. It looks in like it's in a slightly worse state than before, but that doesn't bother me because it's only a phone and I'm in a situation where death is imminent for both me and nine other humans in Morganville.

Flicking through my contacts, I find Shane's name and take a deep breath before clicking it to dial, wondering what he'll say. The last time we spoke was only a few hours ago but he hung up on me and was less than happy. In fact, I think he was more along the lines of furious with me, which could help explain some of the reason why he's not picking up right now.

As I walk through the streets and past Common Grounds (not going in there, thank you very much, what with everything going on), I try ringing him over and over, waiting, hoping, that he's going to answer, but he never does. I even try the house phone, but I guess either nobody is in or I'm getting ignored because it goes to answerphone after a few dials. Michael was pissed off with me last night, which wasn't pleasant but it would explain why he's blanking me, same probably for Eve, and if Shane and Michael put together their experiences of me yesterday and who I was with, that would make for them both being pissed off. Not that it has anything to do with Michael and it is entirely innocent (at least, entirely on my half) with Myrnin, so I don't see any issues with what I'm doing, but that's boys for you.

~x~

Three hours later, I've searched in seven different places, came across four slightly angry vampires who backed away when they saw who I was, and have still not found Sam. My phone died entirely after my fifteenth phone call to Shane, so I haven't been able to tell Myrnin where I am if he returned and got worried (though he sort of deserves to worry, even if I am sort of getting over that he knew about my death threat thing) or speak to Shane if he called me back.

It's getting darker now and I don't fancy going into any more of the buildings in Morganville that could harbour vampires, so the only place left is the graveyard. It sounds stupider than going into vampire buildings, for it's filled with bodies and the clichéd hangout for vampires, but Myrnin told me that they don't really come here.

.

"Myrnin," I asked quietly when we were working on one of the experiments he felt was vital to complete.

"Yes, little one?"

"You know how there was the crisis when…when Bishop burned the blood bank down?"

"Yes?"

"Why was there a crisis? I mean, it's disgusting, but why didn't you all think to go to the graveyard and drink from the bodies there?"

"…Claire, we don't grave rob. Only in the times of the absolute greatest need, when it makes the difference between life and death, would we do that, for it is both unpleasant for us taste wise and also morally. Even I have a soul, Claire, and the idea of digging up a body to drink from them is most crude."

"So you don't hang around in graveyards?"

"No…I think the longest I have spent in a graveyard was when I was spying on Amelie and the man she was attached to in the past for a few weeks. I think I spent all of three hours there…graveyards are not pleasant places, even for vampires."

.

No, it should be the safest place on the list, if Sam isn't here. If he is still here, because it's convenient for him to stay close to where he lived for six months, I'm basically in it big style because Myrnin isn't going to come for me as he doesn't know where I am (and he's probably still in the middle of his little discussion with Amelie) and so I'm going to be found like where the other humans were found.

Breathing heavily, I walk towards where Myrnin parked last night and down the path where we headed. The wind begins to nag at the back of my neck, sending shivers down my neck as it howls through the trees. The eerie sounds you hear in horror films when the main character is walking through the trees begin to pick up in a stereotypical manner, the shadows seeming darker than last night even though it was later.

"Pull yourself together, Claire," I tell myself in a low voice, "Chill out and turn on the torch. You're here for Sam, remember, not to get scared about the trees," I manage to laugh ever so slightly but it sounds forced to my own ears, hysteria about to come through if I don't stop. Maybe this was a bad idea.

The last rays from the sun seem to disappear as I walk further into the woods, looking for the tree where Myrnin pointed towards where Sam's grave is. I find it pretty quickly, tightening the cloak around my arms as the temperature seems to drop ever further down towards zero Celsius, and then turn right at this marker, heading for Sam's torn up grave.

In the distance, the sight of the mounds of earth around where I presume Sam's grave lies – I never visited, it hurt too much – signify that I must be almost here. There doesn't seem to be any signs of movement around, which is both good and bad because it means that there is no danger but that he isn't here in the most obvious of places, and it's pretty open so it's a little safer, I think. The lack of trees mean that the moon shines through in a rather ominous matter but it allows me to see more without the need to throw the torchlight in every direction, means that it soothes my nerves about the cracking of a twig or the twoot of an owl.

Advancing towards the grave, I turn every now and then to make sure that that the feeling of breath on the back of my throat isn't really that and that I'm alone – I am, thankfully. So I walk forwards and watch as the moonlight seems to shine exactly upon Sam's grave, the headstone to one side of what seems to be a gaping hole…where he should be.

Samuel Abelard Glass

Forever in our hearts

There's some more at the bottom but it seems to be in latin, so I presume that Amelie had that inscribed at the bottom to commemorate their love. I don't know what it says and I'm not going to hazard a guess at trying to translate it with a translator because a) that's not the focus of the point right now, staying alive is, and b) it'll probably come out as gobbledegook.

I get absorbed in the sights of his grave, the way the piles of earth are almost symmetrical, the smashed up state of his coffin as he evidently fought to get out. I don't hear the approach.

A hand places itself lightly on my shoulder, a rippling snarl moving throughout the air to hit my ears.

I scream.

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