Bitter Blood (The Morganville Vampires #13)(100)

“Where’s her immediate family?”

“He’s”—she tried to think of something more clever than blurting out Getting his revenge, and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other—“gone to tell her mom.”

That seemed to do the trick, because the doctor looked more satisfied with that. “Well, when he comes back, tell him she’s in recovery. We’ve got her stabilized, but we’ll have to keep her for a couple of days and make sure there’s no brain trauma. She’s lucky. The surgery went well.”

“Surgery?” Claire covered her mouth with her hand. “She had surgery? For what?”

He stared at her in silence for a moment, then said, “Just tell him she’s stable. I don’t anticipate more than one night here for her, unless there are complications we can’t foresee right now. But the internal bleeding is under control.”

He walked off before she could ask him if she could see Eve. He got all the way to the door, then turned back to see her settling miserably back into the plastic chair. “Oh,” he said. “If you want to see her, she’ll be waking up soon. I warn you, she’ll be in some pain.”

Claire climbed to her feet again and followed him to the recovery room.


He wasn’t kidding about the pain, and Claire was in tears trying to soothe Eve as she moaned and tossed and whimpered, but they finally gave her some kind of a shot that quieted her a little. Claire followed as they wheeled her into a room and hooked her up to machines, and this time, when Claire dozed off in a chair, it was a little more comfortable, and she pulled up to Eve’s bedside.

When she woke up, Morganville had gone still and dark, bathed here and there in the soft glow of porch lights and streetlamps. Car headlights crisscrossed the grid of streets. There were, as always, more out at night. Vampire vehicles.

She was still staring out at it when she heard a rustle of sheets, and Eve said, in a shockingly small voice, “Michael?”

Claire went to her side as Eve woke up. She had bruises on her face—red right now, but starting to turn purple at the edges. Both eyes were puffy. “Hey,” she said in as soothing a voice as she could manage. She took Eve’s hand, carefully, and held it. “Hey, you scared the hell out of me, sweetie.”

“Claire?” Eve blinked and tried to open her lids wider, then winced from the effort. “Crap. What car hit me?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Did someone run into us? Is my hearse—” Her voice faded off, and she was quiet for a moment, then said, “Oh. Right. They jumped me, didn’t they?”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “But you’re okay. You’re in the hospital. The doctor says you’re going to be fine.”

“Son of a—” Eve tried to lift her hand, but it had tubes coming out of it; she looked at it, then lowered it slowly back down. “Where’s Michael?”

“Ah—”

“Please don’t tell me he went after them.”

“I won’t,” Claire said. “Look, you just need to rest, okay? Get your strength back after surgery.”

“Surgery? For what?” Eve tried to sit up, but she groaned deeply and sank back down in the pillows. “Oh God, that hurts. What the hell…?”

The nurse came in just then, saw Eve was awake, and came to lift the bed up to help her sit. “You can sit up for a while,” the nurse said, “but if you start feeling sick, use this.” She pressed a bowl into Eve’s hands. “The anesthesia could make you vomit.”

“Wow. Cheery,” Eve said. “Wait—what kind of surgery did I have?”

The nurse hesitated, glanced at Claire, and said, “Are you sure you want me to tell you with your visitor present?”

“Claire? Sure. She’s like—like a sister.” Eve paled a little as she shifted. “It hurts.”

“Well, it will,” the nurse said, without much sympathy. “They had to remove your appendix. It was bleeding.”

“It what?”

“You were kicked in the stomach,” the nurse said. “Your appendix was badly damaged. They had to remove it. So it’s best if you stay still for a while and let yourself heal. The police are coming to interview you about what happened.”

“Good.”

The nurse smiled. There was something a little ominous about it, a little disturbing. “I’d advise you to refuse to give a statement. Might be healthier for you, all things considered. The people who hurt you might have friends. And you don’t have very many.”

Claire blinked. “What did you just say?” The nurse turned away. “Hey!”

Eve put a hand on her arm as Claire tried to get up. “I understand,” she said.

The nurse nodded, checked the readings on a couple of machines, and said, “Don’t keep her awake long. I’ll tell the police to come back later. Give you some time to think about what you’re going to say to them. You’re a smart girl. You know what’s best.”

The message, Claire thought, was chilling and clear: don’t tell the cops the names of the people who attacked you. Or else. And an “or else” from a medical professional was pretty nasty. If Eve wasn’t safe here…

Captain Obvious had always been a little bit of a joke, in most Morganville resident circles, but Claire was starting to think that this new, more aggressive Cap was something else entirely. He was inspiring people. And leading them into frightening extremes.