Bitter Blood (The Morganville Vampires #13)(79)

“He is not wrong in that, Claire,” Amelie said. “Mankind is not known for its charity toward those it fears. If we’re not torn apart as demons, we’ll be dissected in your laboratories, for science. Or worse, put on exhibition, no better than those ragged lions and exhausted bears in your zoos. Who will protect us, if we don’t protect ourselves?”

Claire wanted to say that she was wrong, that it wouldn’t be like that, but she’d read enough history and knew enough about the grudges and fears that people held close to their hearts to realize that Amelie was probably right, in principle.

“Let her go,” Claire said. “And people will see you’re not afraid to be part of this town and listen to them. Trust me. Please. I don’t want this to explode, and neither do you, but it will. You make Mrs. Ramos disappear, and it’ll never stop exploding. Vampires will take out humans, humans will take out vampires, and sooner or later, we’re all dead or you’re discovered.”

“I cannot let her go. Not an option.” But Amelie seemed to consider things, and suddenly she pulled her hand free of Oliver’s hold, opened the other side of the limousine, and stepped out into the sun.

Unlike the other vampires, she didn’t bother to try to cover herself; she was old enough that the sun wouldn’t do more than give her a painful but mild burn. The sight of her in full daylight was startling. She wore a white silk suit, expertly tailored, and her short stature was concealed with tall white pumps. Her pale gold hair, wrapped in a coronet around her head, was almost the same shade. The only color on her was a bloodred ruby necklace and a matching ring, and as she walked off toward the mob, she looked every inch a queen.

Oliver slammed his door open, grabbed Claire by the arm, and shoved her back against a brick wall. “Stupid girl,” he said, and ran after Amelie. She didn’t seem to be moving fast—drifting, almost—but he had trouble catching her.

She reached the crowd before him, and it parted in front of her like smoke before a strong wind. The vampires paused on stage, suddenly aware of her presence, and silence swept over the chaos to the point that Claire imagined she could almost hear the click of Amelie’s heels as she moved up the portable stairs to the stage.

Oliver scrambled behind her, impassive in expression, but she could see the anger and frustration in his body language. He was too late to stop whatever she intended to do.

“Release the woman,” Amelie said to the two vamps holding Flora. They let go, immediately, and stepped away with their heads bowed. Amelie advanced to stand in front of her. “Are you injured?”

Flora shook her head no.

“Then you may leave this place, if you wish. Or you may stay here, on this stage, and accept the very difficult and thankless job of mayor, a position to which I believe you are uniquely suited.”

Whatever Flora was expecting, it wasn’t that. Neither were her supporters. A confused babble started up, and Claire jogged back over so she could hear more clearly over the confusion. The microphones were dead, so only the first few rows were likely to hear what was going on.

“I’m not running,” Flora said. “It’s Captain Obvious the people want.”

“And Captain Obvious they will not get,” Amelie replied with perfect calm. “One cannot elect a man too cowardly to show his face. You, Mrs. Ramos, have courage enough for both, quite clearly. And so you are my nominee. What say you? We have enough residents here to win you the day, simply by voice. Yes or no?”

“I can’t—” It wasn’t a refusal, though; it was a confused and reluctant argument. “I’m not a politician.”

“Neither is Captain Obvious, else he would not have run away at the first sign of trouble,” Amelie said coolly, and got a ripple of chuckles from a few in the crowd. “I come to stand before the people of Morganville as the Founder. Unafraid. Can he say as much? You stand before them as well. And I say you will uphold their trust. I ask you for nothing but honorable service. Will you accept?”

Claire didn’t hear the answer, because the roar that went up from the crowd was deafening.

There really wasn’t any question of refusing.

Amelie had outmaneuvered Captain Obvious and Oliver, and she had regained the equilibrium of Morganville, at least temporarily—all in a mere thirty seconds.

Claire shook her head in wonder, and went home to tell Shane that, despite their hard work—and glitter—Monica was off the ballot.

He’d be so disappointed.


Claire wasn’t the first one to get the news to the Glass House, even though she called as she jogged away from City Hall. Eve answered on the first ring and said, “Are you at the riot?”

“It’s not really a riot. More of a rally.”

“Because the underground talk is that it’s a riot. Are they beating people with signs? Is there pepper spray involved? Details!”

“Not that I saw,” she said. “I really thought I had breaking news, but you beat me to it.”

“Not so much, sugar pie. Is it true that they almost got Flora Ramos? Man, I wish they had. It would have just destroyed whatever high ground Amelie had left. I mean, Flora Ramos—everybody knows about her kids….”

“They didn’t take her in,” Claire said, and talked fast, in case Eve was refreshing the Web page. “Amelie declared her mayor.”