Chapter 4

Claire's POV

We were all sat around the dinner table talking about what Carrie and Sam had been saying and seeing. None of us could come up with a rational reason for why this had been happening, but then this is Morganville; nothing here is what most people would ever call rational.

In the end, we all agreed it would be best to try and find out what was happening without alerting the vampires, although part of me thought they probably already knew, even if they weren't behind it.

We didn't actually end up doing anything because we didn't know where to start. We just sat and waited until they finished preschool. At some point during the day, around lunchtime, Michael went out to pick Ellie up from day care since they weren't exactly needed if none of us were working. She ended up sitting on the floor and playing with some building blocks.

As 3 p.m. rolled around, me and Eve went out – in the same car just in case either one of us had a breakdown again – to pick Sam and Carrie up. We were stood outside the building for around ten minutes with the other parents, waiting for them to finish. I kept feeling a cold breeze go over me, but there was no wind. Just the Texas summer sun beating down on us. I tried not to shiver each time the breeze swept over me, but it seemed to get colder and colder each time. It reminded me of when Michael was a ghost.

I saw Eve shiver out of the corner of my eye and looked over at her. I saw she was about to say something, but the class was let out just as she opened her mouth. Carrie came crashing into my arms waving a piece of paper in my face.

It was a drawing that she'd done during the day. It showed her, Sam and Ellie on one of the swing sets, and me, Eve, Shane and Michael sitting on the grass in front of them.

"Look mommy! Look what I did," she almost yelled.

"It's great, honey. I love it! We'll have to put it on the refrigerator when we get back," I said.

I saw Sam talking to Eve quietly. He looked scared and it looked like Eve was trying to calm him down. I took Carrie's hand and walked over to them.

"Hey, Sammy, how was your day?" I asked brightly. He hid his head in the crook of Eve's neck. I gave Eve a questioning look and she shook her head.

"What about you, Carrie. How was your day?" She asked.

Carrie was giving Sam a wary look as if she understood why he was hiding but didn't trust him.

"Carrie," I sang, trying to get her attention. It didn't work. She looked at me and bent close enough to whisper in my ear.

"They're in the corners of the rooms, mommy,"

I didn't say anything. I just gave her a hug and held on as tight as she did. I remembered what Michael said earlier about not letting Shane lose anyone else, especially Carrie. Especially Carrie. Those words echoed through my mind as I stroked my daughter's hair.

I kissed the top of her head and we left the preschool.

In the car on the way home, Eve kept glancing in the rear view mirror where she could see Sam looking out of the window.

"What do you think? Do we call Amelie?" she asked, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

"I don't know," I replied honestly.

Later on in the Day

Claire's POV

I finished cleaning up from dinner and walked into the living room where Carrie was lying on the floor doing a jigsaw with Shane. I sat down on the couch and turned the TV on. There was nothing on that interested me much, so I ended up half-watching some cooking show, and half-watching Carrie and Shane try and find a missing jigsaw piece.

I noticed Carrie kept on shivering, like me and Eve had done earlier when the cold kept coming over us. Shane had seen too, and he sat up and pulled her onto his lap. He put his arms around her in a protective way, but also to warm her up. He tried to talk to her but she wasn't listening. She never did when she was focusing on something else.

Shane looked up at me. His arms suddenly got tighter around Carrie when she shivered again. This time, she turned into Shane's warmth and curled up on his lap.

"It's like when Michael was a – you know…" I said, looking at Carrie but talking to Shane. "Me and Eve felt it when we went to pick them up."

Shane looked at me and then stared at the floor for a few seconds. He looked drained… tired.

"Yeah, I felt it too, at work," he said quietly. He was picking at a piece of carpet that was sticking up out of the rest of it. "Carrie, it's time for bed, come on."

He picked Carrie up off his lap and stood up. She looked up at him confused and wide-eyed.

"But I haven't finished," she exclaimed, pointing at the jigsaw.

"You can finished it tomorrow, come on," Shane seemed agitated, and an agitated Shane wasn't someone you wanted to get on the wrong side of, even if you're Carrie.

"But you said I could go to bed when I've finished it," Carrie argued back, frowning now. I sometimes worried that she'd inherited too much of Shane's stubbornness. All it ever seemed to do was get her into trouble.

"I said it's bedtime, don't argue with me," Shane's voice was starting to rise now, and I saw Carrie look over at me. Her bottom lip was trembling and I could tell she was going to burst into tears any second. For someone who doesn't like crying, she cries a hell of a lot.

"Shane, come on, she's almost finished," I reasoned. Carrie looked back up at Shane. He took a step forward, not towards me, and I flinched. I actually flinched.

What is wrong with you, Claire? I thought. He's not going to hurt you or anything.

Carrie didn't flinch though. She stood there and folded her arms. I saw the look she was giving Shane and it was a weird mix of angry and heart-broken.

"Carrie, come on. It's time for bed. You won't get a story," he warned. I could tell he was about to lose his cool.

"But you said I could finish -," Carrie started. I saw something in Shane snap and quickly got up to take any blow that he may send Carrie's way.

"Shane, stop," I shouted. I grabbed onto Carrie's hand as she cowered behind my leg. I lowered my voice, with the hope that Carrie couldn't hear me. "Do not do this. We don't need any of your crap right now. Do not lose it with Carrie because this is not her fault."

Shane glared at me, then looked down at Carrie. His expression softened and I thought he was about to cry. Instead, he turned around and stormed off upstairs. I stood for a minute staring after him before turning to Carrie.

I let go of her hand, picked her up and sat her down on my lap. She leant against me, so I rocked her back and forth gently.

"Shh, sweetie. It's okay, don't cry," I murmured, trying to remember how my mom used to calm me down when I was Carrie's age. She whimpered and started playing with my hair. She did that when she was upset. "It's okay, daddy's just a bit upset at the moment."

Not that I thought what he did was okay, and not that he could use being upset or worried as an excuse to get angry at everything, but I knew he'd be sorry – more sorry than he ever was with anyone else – when he next saw her. He'd probably spend tonight sat up in bed watching TV thinking about what he did. He can be such a drama queen.

"Daddy loves you, honey," I said while she stopped crying.

"Why did he shout at me?" she asked, very quietly as though she thought he'd come back shouting if he heard.

"He's just tired. He's had a long day and he didn't mean to," I replied. As much as I loved Shane, it felt wrong making up excuses for him like this because he promised he'd get his anger issues sorted out. I thought he had, long before Carrie was born.

"But he said I could finish my puzzle and he didn't let me," she burst into tears again and I tried my best to make her feel better, but nothing worked, so I sat there and let her cry. As upset as she was with Shane right now, I knew he was the only person who had a chance of stopping the tears.

It was then that I noticed Shane stood in the doorway. He'd changed out of the shirt and shorts he wears to work and into a pair of jeans that looked like he'd had them since I met him, and a faded t-shirt. I noticed he wasn't looking at me, but at Carrie, looking at her like he'd never be able to say sorry enough times even though she was the most forgiving person either of us knew.

He looked up at me. I must have had some kind of angry look on my face because he looked down at his feet after a second. When he did finally look back up, sorrow was written all over his face. I gave him a sympathetic smile, realising in the back of my mind that I couldn't be mad at him, and gestured for him to come over, which he did carefully and silently.

He was so stealthy on his way over that Carrie didn't even know he was there until he'd sat down. She looked up and I half expected her to cower away like she did earlier, but instead she stared up at Shane through the tears that were still coming. It was like she was trying to figure out what he was thinking.

Shane wiped a falling tear with his thumb, and moved a piece of hair back from her face, then moved his hand away.

After a few seconds, he opened his arms and she crawled off my lap into his, curling up and burying her head in the gap between his arm and his side. I saw that he'd brought on of her teddy bears down with him, her favourite teddy bear. Shane leant back into the couch cushions, almost fully lying down, and Carrie crawled up to lie on his chest, her head resting next to his, cuddling her teddy bear. Slowly, she stopped crying and Shane turned his head to kiss her. They lay there for a few minutes in silence, the only sound coming from Carrie when she sniffled.

"I'm sorry, Carrie," Shane said, eventually. I noticed he'd called her by her actual name, which was pretty rare for Shane; he usually used one of her many nicknames.

She didn't say anything back; she just put her arms around his neck and hugged him, the teddy was getting awkwardly squished between the two. It was enough of forgiveness to bring tears to Shane's eyes, but he didn't let them spill over.

"You wanna finish that puzzle?" he asked.

"Yeah?" she said through a sniffle. I'm not sure if she intended it to be a question, but that's how it came across.

"Come on then," Shane sat up and they both got down on the floor to finish it.

It took them about ten minutes, and by the time they'd finished Carrie was happier. She and Shane lay on their backs on the floor drawing pictures in the air and trying to guess what each other was drawing. They did it until Carrie was laughing, and I'm talking full on laugh-until-your-stomach-hurts laughing. She ended up falling asleep on the living room floor, so Shane carried her to bed.

When he came back down he looked odd.

"You okay?" I asked.

"We need to call Amelie," he said. I nodded and pulled out my phone. I tried calling five times before giving up.

"She's not answering," I said. Shane made a frustrated sound and I had to stop him from punching the wall. "Hey, Shane calm down. We can try calling someone else, see if they know where Amelie is."

"Like who, Claire? No one in this stupid town even cares," he replied. I gave up, knowing he was right. "Call Myrnin."

I'm pretty sure there were people in China who felt the whole world be thrown off balance for a few seconds. I never thought I'd witness Shane asking for Myrnin's help.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Claire, just call him. If he can't help us he might at least know how to get to Amelie," he said, so I called Myrnin.

The phone was picked up on the fourth ring, but it wasn't Myrnin I was speaking to.

"Hello, Claire," a raspy, all too familiar voice said.

"Frank, where's Myrnin?" I asked, out of the corner of my eye I saw Shane telling me to hang up. He still wasn't on good terms with his dad. Not that I expected them to ever be on good terms.

"I don't really care," he said slowly. I was about to hang up on him when he said, "Don't put the phone down; I know what's been happening to my granddaughter."

"Wait, what? What do you mean you know?"

"Well, it means that I have an accurate understanding of the nightmares my granddaughter has been having, as well as the fact she's been seeing shadows,"

Shane must have overheard what Frank said because before I could protest he'd grabbed the phone out of my hands.

"What do you know? I swear to God if you have anything to do with this I will come over there and rip you to pieces,"

"Please, Shane, do rip me to pieces. You think I like having to follow orders from vampires?"

"Shut up, Frank. What do you know?"
"Shane, a few manners wouldn't go amiss,"

"You're hardly one to talk about manners,"

"Perhaps not, but as your father, I'll say: do as I say not as I do,"

"Look, maybe you didn't get the memo, but you're not my dad. I don't want anything to do with you, got it?" Shane sounded really angry now.

"I guess you don't want to know anything I know then," Frank was tormenting Shane now, trying to get a reaction out of him. And it was working.

"Okay, fine, I'm sorry. What do you know?"

"Well, I'm aware that Michael Glass' kid had been having nightmares and seeing shadowy figures with no faces. I'm also aware that my granddaugh– "

"She's not your granddaughter. You are not a part of this family, Frank," Shane growled. It hurt me a little to see him like this, especially towards his own father. Although, Frank Collins wasn't exactly running for World's Best Grandfather, so maybe I could get over it.

"Okay, that stings I won't lie," he said, "Anyway, your child also had nightmares about these same creatures and can also see them, however she sees their faces."

Shane looked blank for a few seconds.

"Yeah, we already know that, asshole," he said.

"Well then, I guess I'm not much help,"

Shane hung up in utter frustration. He looked about ready to throw my phone through the window. I took it from his hands and sat him down.

We looked at each other for a moment before Shane pulled me into his arms. We stayed there, wrapped up in each other, for a long time. I felt safe and I was grateful that Shane still had that effect on me.

"We should go to bed. Ain't gonna do no good being tired and grouchy," Shane said, sounding defeated.

"Yeah," I agreed softly.

"You think Carrie hates me?" Shane said. I actually laughed a little.

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, staring at him amused. "You actually think she hates you?"

Shane nodded, looking more than a little bit confused. I sighed and shook my head.

"You know, there's nothing harder to break than a girl's love for her dad," Shane raised his eyes in a challenging look. "Seriously. Look at Eve; her dad hit her, tried to sell her to a paedophilic vampire and threw her out when she refused and she still cried for him when he died. She still loved him, as much as she didn't want to. Alyssa probably loved your dad too."

"Yeah well my dad wasn't as much of an ass to Lyss. He saved most of it for me. Carrying on the family trade like the oldest male does and shit," Shane muttered.

"Hey, that didn't mean he was World's Best Dad to her," Shane looked at me.

"That's not what I'm saying, Claire. I know full well that my dad was horrible to Lyssa. I'm just saying that he actually showed a little bit of love towards her from time to time. He was nothing like your dad, and I know that. Lyss and me didn't have a dad that ever showed compassion, but it was sometimes like we had a different dad altogether. Sure, he believed in tough love with both of us. Thought if he hit us enough we'd learn, but that didn't change the fact that Alyssa was his little girl. He was still upset when she died. He still got angry when she died, just like any father would. Just like I would. All I'm saying is that if it were me who'd died in that fire, no way would he have blamed Alyssa for not getting me out. He would have called me a coward at my own funeral," Shane spat it all out; like he couldn't stop himself once he'd started. I sat and stared at him, completely shocked.

"Oh, Shane," I said, putting my hand on his arm.

"What? It's nothing you didn't already know," he said.

"Carrie doesn't hate you," I blurted. "You're an amazing dad, Shane. She's so lucky to have you, you know that, right?"

"Lucky isn't exactly a word I'd use to describe anyone who knows me," he muttered.

I could have cried for him, but I knew he wouldn't understand, so I held the tears and the sympathy act back.

"She's lucky. I'm lucky. Shane, we both think the world of you. That little girl of ours, every time she looks at you she has the biggest, proudest smile on her face and you know it. So what if she doesn't know anything about your past at the moment? I do, and I still love you," I said.

"Well, yeah. Who wouldn't love me? I'm awesome," he joked, but the smile on his face quickly faded. "I'm not kidding though, you're not lucky to know me. I'm the definition of trouble. I'm not saying I think I'm a bad father or anything because I know what a bad father is like and I try my hardest to be the complete opposite of that."

"Shane, look at me. I'm smart, yes?" he nodded, "Okay, so we're in agreement on that. Awesome. Listen to me; you think if I cared about luck I'd be with you? Because as a smart person, I tend to know when something is bad for me. I'm lucky to know you, because I got a rockin' husband and the most fantastic daughter out of it."

Shane smiled at that. "She is pretty fantastic, isn't she?"

"She's amazing, and that's half because of you," I said. I then yawned and Shane laughed.

"Didn't I say like ten minutes ago that we should go to bed?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do recall that being mentioned," I said standing up and holding my hands out for him. He pulled himself up and leant over to kiss me.

"That will never get old," he murmured. I giggled and he said, "Oh you think I'm on about the kissing? Cute. I meant me being right."

I acted shocked and heartbroken.

"Well, it will never get old because it never happens," I said, sticking my tongue out. Shane gaped at me and I walked upstairs.

Any problems we may have can wait until morning, but when the morning comes, we're going at this with pitchforks and torches.