Midnight Bites (The Morganville Vampires)(101)

“I think you mean that ironically,” Amelie said. She continued looking straight ahead, at the nondenominational stained glass behind the altar. “Oliver was investigating reports that someone was tainting the blood supply. The attack on the girl was incidental, but significant, because her blood was contaminated. I am sorry I withheld the information from you. It might have speeded your investigation.”

“Might have,” Hannah said. “Next time, tell me.”

“I will.” Amelie was quiet for a moment. “Do you think it was? A miracle?” Almost wistful, the way she asked it.

“I’ve got no idea. Why?”

“Because I would like to still believe in them. Miracles and signs. An age of wonder and promise, where all things were possible.”

“All things still are possible,” Hannah said. “Good things and bad. But maybe we’ve got a clearer idea that we’re the ones causing them.”

Amelie nodded. “Good work today, Chief,” she said. “I’m pleased.”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“That,” Amelie said as she stood up, and her guard seemed to materialize out of nowhere to stand at her back, “is why I’m pleased.”

Hannah watched them leave, and then looked back at the altar.

An age of miracles.

Maybe it was, after all.





ANGER MANAGEMENT


It occurred to me, post–Bite Club, that Shane might need some counseling for his anger issues. It’s common knowledge he has them, but they made an epic appearance in that book, and surely if he didn’t seek some help, someone would seek it for him . . . leading to this Amelie-mandated counseling session with Dr. Theo Goldman, who is the closest thing the Morganville vampires have to a mental health professional.

I didn’t do right by Dr. Goldman and his family when I introduced them, and I apologize for that; my first attempts were clumsy and awkward and painfully badly drawn, and I hope that their characterizations improved in later books. But this portrait of Theo is, I think, somewhat more flattering, if not where I’d like to take the character someday.

But mostly, it’s Shane being Shane, and maybe growing a little bit from his experiences. Baby steps, Shane. Baby steps.





“What do you think makes you the angriest?” my newly appointed shrink, Dr. Theo Goldman, asked. He was puttering around at his desk, straightening papers, adjusting the angle of his pen, not apparently paying much attention to the answer.

I wasn’t fooled. The fact was, Theo Goldman was listening carefully to everything . . . words, pauses, the way I took a breath. Vampire senses were a bitch that way. Goldman was probably listening to my heart rate, too.

And why did I come here, again? Well, I hadn’t really been given much of a choice.

I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, then stopped and held very still, as if that was going to somehow help me out. Goldman looked up briefly and smiled at me. He wasn’t a bad guy, for a vamp: kind of rumpled, a little antique looking, and he never seemed like he was tempted to rip my throat out for a snack. Claire trusted him, and if my girl said that, she’d probably put a lot of thought into it.

“The angriest,” I repeated, stalling for time. My throat felt dry and tight, and I thought about asking for some water, but it seemed like that might be weird. “You want that list alphabetically?”

“I mean in all your life, the angriest,” Goldman said. “The first thing that comes to your mind.”

“There’s a lot to choose from.”

“I’m sure something stands out.”

“Not really. I—”

“Go!”

The sudden, sharp tone of voice hit me like a needle, and I blurted out, “Claire!” I immediately felt sick. I hadn’t meant to go there, not at all, but it just . . . came out.

In the silence that followed, Theo Goldman sat back in his chair and looked at me with calm, unreadable eyes. “Go on,” he finally said. “What about Claire?”

What the hell had I just said? It wasn’t true, not at all. I didn’t mean it. I stared hard at my shoes, which were battered old work boots, the better to kick some vampire in the teeth with. In Morganville, Texas, you went with either the running shoes or the teeth-kicking shoes. I wasn’t much of a runner.

“Nothing,” I said. “It just came out, that’s all. Claire’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m not angry at her. I don’t even know why I said that.” That was good, that was calm and straightforward, and I checked my watch. God, had it only been fifteen minutes in here, in this nice paneled office, sitting on this comfy Softer Side of Sears couch? “Look, this is great and everything, but I really should be—”

“Why, then, did Claire come to your mind, with all of the terrible things I know you have experienced?” he asked. “You have another thirty minutes, by the way. We have plenty of time. Relax, Mr. Collins. I promise you, I’m here to help.”

“Help. Yeah, vampires are known for all their awesome counseling skills.”

“Does the fact that I am a vampire bother you?”

“Of course it bothers me! I grew up in Morganville—it’s kind of a big deal to sit down and play nice with one of you.”