Midnight Bites (The Morganville Vampires)(147)

His feet had just passed the boundary when she saw the thing from the wardrobe.

It was a vampire. Ancient, bony, bitter white, with mad pale eyes and rags for clothes.

And it was staring at them.

At freedom.

Claire didn’t think; she lunged forward, grabbed the doorknob, and slammed the door shut an instant before the vampire moved. The keys were still dangling in the lock, and she twisted them, and then switched the light off.

Just before she did, she heard the thing whisper something.

She backed away, and Claire felt herself shuddering beyond any possibility of control.

“Oh God,” Eve whispered. “What did we just do?”

“I don’t know,” Claire said. She pulled in a deep, shaking breath. “Let’s get him out of here.”

? ? ?

Myrnin woke up slowly in the hearse. Blinks first, then moans, then twitches. But finally, he turned his head to look at Claire, and said, “Out?” He said it as if he wasn’t entirely sure he could trust his eyes.

“You’re out,” she said, and touched his hand. She wasn’t sure he could feel it, but it seemed like the right thing to do. “What happened to you?”

“He—” Myrnin tried to put it into words, then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. The device?”

“Got it,” Eve said. “Whatever it is. Also, please tell me it isn’t a bomb or radioactive or something.”

“It isn’t, Shreve.”

“Still Eve, man.”

“Apology.”

“Accepted, I guess, and what the hell was that thing in the room with you?”

Myrnin closed his eyes. For a long moment, Claire didn’t think he’d answer Eve’s question, until he finally murmured, “Someone I thought long dead. In a sense, he is dead. Time still passes in that room, but he can’t leave it.”

“But doesn’t moonlight reveal the door? Can’t he open it tonight?”

“It only reveals itself during one particular configuration of moonlight. Last night was the only opportunity for the next one hundred years . . . unless you use that device. Clever girl, Claire. I didn’t even tell you to find it.”

“What are you going to do about . . . him? Just leave him?”

Myrnin’s dark eyes fixed on the horizon for a moment. His expression didn’t change. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I will leave him.”

“And one for the devil,” Claire said. “You were talking about him.”

Myrnin sighed and leaned his head back against the plush upholstery. “Maybe I was,” he said. “What time is it?”

Eve checked her phone. “Eleven thirty, which, wow, I’m cutting it close. I’m dumping you off at the lab, guys, and then I’m out. It’s been super fun. And you owe me a shotgun.”

“I do?” Myrnin didn’t open his eyes.

“Also therapy sessions, because, wow. But here you go. Have fun.” She handed Claire the device from her vest pocket. It was about the size of a baseball, heavy and slick. “You going to be okay?”

Eve pulled the hearse in at the curb. Claire looked down at the narrow, dark alley that led to Myrnin’s lab, and nodded.

“We’ll be okay,” she said.

Then she grabbed her boss and helped him into the dark.

And one for the devil.

At least she’d picked the devil she knew.

“Claire?” Myrnin’s voice sounded still and quiet and small. He was just barely walking, and it was all she could do to keep him upright as they struggled down the steps to the lab. The motion lights brought up the visibility, at least. “I need to tell you something.”

She stopped and looked at him. He seemed sincere, for once. And not crazy in the least.

“It was me,” he said. “It was me, in that room.”

“I don’t . . . I don’t understand. Of course it was you. I mean, I got you—”

“What we left in that room is the me of the future,” he said. “The me that I would have become, starving and mad, if you hadn’t returned for me. In that room, times blur. Worlds blur. The creature was me . . . a me that won’t exist now, because of you. Thank you, Claire.”

That explained it, Claire realized. What the creature had said right at the end.

It had whispered, “Thank you, Claire.”

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t tell him. But she thought that he might have understood anyway.

“Well,” he said, “don’t make too much of it—it isn’t as if we haven’t encountered far worse in our time together. Besides, we have work to do! This, for instance. We need to work on this.” He took the baseball-sized device from her hand and tossed it into the air. Weak as he was, it was a minor miracle he caught it.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Not the vaguest idea,” he said. “I just remember putting it in that room about a hundred years ago. Let’s find out, shall we?”

She put the moonlight device down in the spot she’d found it, and smiled, just a little. “Let’s find out,” she agreed.

And they did. Eventually.





AFTERWORD


So . . . am I finished with Morganville? No, I’m not. I don’t know how, or why, I’ll be returning to this special little place, but I know that it still holds secrets and wonders for me, and I will most certainly return for visits, or even long stays. I don’t know when, but I hope that when I go back to Morganville, you’ll come along for the ride. It’s always best to have friends in a place like that.