Fall of Night (The Morganville Vampires #14) - Page 4

'Are you nervous?' the girl standing next to Claire whispered. 'I'm nervous.' She sounded it. They were in a fairly large group of incoming students being led around by an upperclassman at night. It was the end of Claire's first day of orientation, which had been exhausting and full of way too much info to absorb at once; her brain was swimming with maps, people, names, streets, stunningly gorgeous buildings … she still hadn't met her Special Projects instructor, Professor Anderson, who wouldn't be available until the morning, but she'd filled up her day trying to learn more about the MIT campus.

But it had been impossible to resist the little orange slip of paper she'd received, that had told her where to meet for the 'special tour'. And it hadn't disappointed. An hour of complicated rules, and the Orange Tour had shown them absolutely incredible things … tunnels, rooftops, secrets of all kinds. Claire hadn't thought she had a head for heights, but it turned out she did … more than a lot of the others on the tour. She'd been able to stand right on the edge of the tallest building, and look straight down. It was exciting. Dizzying, but exciting.

MIT was … unique. Like Morganville, it was pretty much a self-regulating system, with its own history, rules and environment … once you were on the campus, it felt as if the MIT universe was the only universe that mattered. She'd met a ton of people, and they were all a blur. There were at least five upperclassmen leading the tour group, but only one wore a T-shirt that said I'M NOT HERE. His name was Jack, and he was the one who talked the most.

Seeing the cool, creative energy of the dorms taught Claire that it had probably been a huge mistake to stay off campus with Elizabeth, but done was done on that score. She was committed, and it would be too much of a drama to try to beg off now. Plus, she'd already prepaid the rent.

'Hey,' the girl whispered again. 'Are you nervous?'

'No, it's fine,' Claire said. She supposed to normal people there was something spooky about the tour – after all, it was after hours, they were trudging around in the dark, and the upperclassmen leading the tour were doing their best to freak them out. But she couldn't get nervous about it. She supposed Morganville had raised the bar way too high on that one. 'We're safe. They're not going to let anything happen to us, trust me.'

'I don't know where we are,' the girl whispered back anxiously. She shuffled maps, frowning; like Claire, she had a ton of materials, but unlike Claire, she hadn't come armed with a backpack to stow them in. 'Do you know? Because I thought we were heading for Baker House. Isn't that right?'

'I think so.'

'But – we're way off, right? Look, I think we're not even on campus … no, wait, we are …' The girl's anxiety teetered on the edge of panic, and there wasn't much Claire could do to help. She checked her phone, supposedly to look at the GPS, but quite honestly, she was checking to see if she'd gotten any messages.

She had. Voicemail from Michael. Again. She'd skipped listening to the last three because she was hoping Shane's name would pop up … but just as she started to stow the phone away, she saw a text pop up.

It was still Michael … but it said, This is Shane hit me back.

What?

Claire lagged behind a little, texting back – risky to do on unfamiliar ground, in the dark, but this couldn't wait. Y R U on Michael's phone?

A few seconds, and the text came back. Broke mine sry.

It sounded like an excuse. A bad one. But accidents did happen. Was waiting, she texted back. Saw vid.

No answer for a long moment, and then he typed back, I meant it. That was all. Just that.

And she stopped walking, closed her eyes for a moment, and pulled in a deep, chilly breath. Then she texted, Miss U.

He responded, Luv U.

Her eyes stung with tears, and she hesitated for a long second before she texted back, Ttys. Talk to you soon.

'Hey!'

Claire jerked her head up at the urgent whisper from a few feet away, instincts coming alive and screaming, but it was just the girl, the nervous one, still clutching all her brochures and maps and binders. She looked even more paranoid than before. What was her name, anyway? Started with a V. Vita? No, Viva. 'Viva,' she said, and the girl nodded. 'What's wrong?'

'We're supposed to be going to Baker House,' she said. 'But it's not on the map!'

'Well, it's supposed to be a secret tour,' Claire said. 'So maybe it's called something else on the map.'

'But-' Viva shifted uneasily. 'I just – I just want to go back. Would you share a cab with me? Please? We can get one on the street up there.'

The rest of the group was walking briskly on, heading through some trees, and they were being left behind. Well, that didn't seem like a good idea under any circumstances.

Claire put her phone away, shifted the weight of her backpack (which wasn't much, at least not now – a tablet computer, a couple of books she was interested in, and the load of goodies from orientation. She wasn't used to it being so light). 'Let's just catch up,' she said. 'Come on. We can't bug out now, they'll worry about us.' And she jogged onward, looking back to be sure Viva was coming. She was, probably only because she didn't want to be left alone.

Claire was definitely not interested in going back to the house ahead of schedule. Liz had moped about her going to orientation, had fussed about when she'd be back, and then sulked about the fact Claire expected to be gone until late. The drama had been intense. No reason to add to it by coming home off schedule … that would probably lead to a theatrical scene about how Liz's plans had been spoilt because Claire didn't do what she said.

Two days in and I already hate living there, Claire thought. Probably not a good sign. But she'd hated Morganville at first, and now … now she really missed it.

And Shane. God, she missed Shane so much. She missed Eve and Michael, and (probably stupidly) Myrnin, too. She'd spent the day providing the mental running commentary from her friends and boyfriend, and from Myrnin when she spotted something excessively and geekily cool. It was getting easier and easier to summon up a mental replica of Myrnin in her head. That was probably worrying.

Cambridge was so busy. Even this late, there were loads of cars zipping around, planes crossing the starless, light-washed sky, crowds gathering for mysterious and unknown reasons around shops or parks. The Morganville in her wanted to tell them all to go home and be safe, but she knew that was verging on crazy. The world these laughing people lived in was a very different place.

She was in a very different place.

The raggle-taggle group of students that their tour guides were leading came to a sudden halt, because in the clearing ahead there was a big group already gathered. There was no apparent purpose to it – just people gathered, talking, some sitting and reading, some playing games, a few paired-off couples so into each other it didn't matter others existed at all. As Claire caught up (and a breathless Viva caught up with her), the entire group came to a stop halfway inside of the crowd, and their guide held up his hand.

'Hang on,' he told them. 'We're really close, I just have to check something. Stay here. Oh, and remember what I told you if security shows up. Don't tell them my name, and don't tell them where you're going.'

Viva held up her hand. 'Um, Jack? I can't find Baker House on my map …'

'Just a second,' he said, but his words were lost in a sudden chorus of phones buzzing, beeping and pinging. People around them fumbled for their devices, and Claire checked hers out of habit. Nothing.

But the people around them whooped, cheered, high-fived and … began to dance. All their phones were blaring out a song Claire recognised. Most of them had some kind of glow-in-the-dark things that they pulled from their pockets, and within seconds it was a full-on instant rave.

Their little group was an island of clueless in a sea of moving, jumping bodies … and suddenly, she didn't see their tour guides anywhere. They'd just melted into the crowd. Gone.

Viva's eyes were huge, and she was clutching all her official MIT loot to her chest as if someone might want to rip off her maps and binders. She crowded closer to Claire as a guy with huge holes in his ears and a shaved head began kangaroo-jumping around near them. The noise was deafening.

Claire spotted the campus security uniforms approaching, and pointed, and Viva gasped and looked as if she might faint. 'Jack!' she yelled, and turned in a circle, staring wildly. 'Jack, they're coming! Jack!'

But their tour guide was nowhere to be seen, and now, as more campus security descended, the flash-rave broke up and students began scrambling away in a hundred directions … leaving their little tour group frozen and stunned.

There was no sign of their guide anywhere.

Claire, whose survival instincts were a lot more finely honed, had been prepared to cut out, but Viva's shaking hand on her arm prevented her from following the upperclass students, and before she could get Viva to flee with her, it was too late. There were three security guards flanking them, frowning and looking very serious.

'Okay, you know this area's off limits,' one of them said. 'Names!'

There was a confused babble of voices, and he cut them off with an impatient gesture and pointed to Claire.

'Claire Danvers,' she said. 'But we were taking a tour. We didn't know it was off limits.'

'Likely story, Miss Danvers. If you were on a tour, where's your guide?'

'Um …' Viva held up her hand. 'He left? I'm Viva Adewah.'

He made notes. 'Uh huh. Name of the guide, for the records?'

'Um, I don't know. He took off and left us here!'

The three security men exchanged a look, and the centre one made another official-looking note in his book. 'And where were you headed?'

He got a shifty look and mutters from all of their fellow abandoned group, and Claire sighed. 'Baker House,' she said. 'Which isn't real, right? And Jack Florey's not a real person?'

'Opinions are divided,' the cop said, and put his notebook away. 'It's the Orange Tour, by the way. Long tradition. Sometimes they let us hassle you. Guess this was your lucky night. You're all from Fifth East?'

'How did you know?' Viva asked.

'Because if you weren't, you'd have a different guide. Head that way. You'll get back on track quickly. Stay together. No wandering off on your own. And congratulations. You're part of the history now – you've survived an Orange Tour. Now, don't let us ever catch you hacking.'

A hack, in MIT jargon, meant a real-world mod … like the most recent one, which had been to turn the Earth Sciences building into a giant Tetris game with coloured interior lights. Hacks didn't destroy, they just … creatively amended. But Jack Florey had given them the rules of hacks, too – and they sounded remarkably like the rules of surviving Morganville. No stealing. No destroying property. And never hack alone.

Odds were, most people on this tour would, at some point, be involved in a hack, or at least see a really good one.

But probably not her, Claire reflected, with another little burst of regret. She wasn't here to be a freshman; she was here to study with Professor Anderson, on a Morganville-approved study course, and Amelie wasn't likely to be in favour of anything that wasn't strictly on the curriculum.

Escorted by the watchful eyes of campus security, they trudged back toward the centre of campus, where the dome of the Maclaurin Building dominated the landscape. Viva was still sticking close to Claire's elbow. She looked small, and lost; the others in the group were laughing and happy, glowing with adventure and excitement. They seemed born to be here.

Viva didn't. And Claire realised with a jolt that the kid was young – younger than her, or the others in the group. Not much younger, but enough to matter and cripple her with self-consciousness. 'Hey,' Claire said to her. 'So, where are you from, Viva?'

'Iowa,' she said. 'Rockwell City. You probably never heard of it.'

True, she hadn't. 'Is it nice?'

'Not like this. I mean, this is-' Viva flapped a hand around them, helpless to describe it. 'Different. It's great, and I thought I knew what I was getting into, but it's so-'

'Real,' Claire said. She knew how it felt. 'Bigger than you.'

'Yeah.' Viva clutched her binders closer, like a magic shield. 'It's a lot of pressure, and classes haven't even started. I just feel-'

'Alone?'

Viva nodded, looking ashamed. 'They all seem so comfortable already.'

'I wish I could help you, but I'm not living in the dorm. Wait – maybe I can help.' Claire grabbed Viva's arm and towed her sideways, aiming for a laughing mixed group of girls and boys; they seemed friendly, and she liked the T-shirt one of them was wearing. It meant he had a good sense of humour, at least. 'Hey, guys? This is Viva. I've got to take off, but could you make sure she gets back to the dorm okay? I'm Claire, by the way. Claire Danvers.'

'Hey,' the boy in the T-shirt said. He had messy, curly hair that flopped in his eyes, and a million-dollar smile. 'I'm Nick Salazar. This nutcase is Oded, that's Jenny, Amanda, Trent …' He reeled off names as if he'd known them all his life, though Claire was pretty sure he'd just met them. 'Nice to meet you guys. Viva, right? Cool name.'

'Thanks,' she said. She looked scared, but determined.

'Hey, you need a bag,' Jenny said, and dug in her backpack to come up with a tote with the MIT logo. 'Try this. What room are you in?'

'Screw that, the question at hand is what's your major?' Oded said. 'Because let me just tell you right now, any answer other than World of Warcraft or Advanced Ninja Studies will not be accepted.'

'Fight Club,' Viva said. Oded considered, and offered her a fist bump. She took it.

'I stand corrected,' he said. 'She just levelled up.'

Claire wanted to stay with them – wanted it so badly she could taste it. The easy, silly friendship reminded her of what she'd left behind, and she craved it … but she really did need to talk to Shane. So she drifted off, and Viva – deep into the conversation now – hardly noticed her departure. Claire jogged off to a trail that led to Stratton Student Centre. It was, at this hour, not very busy; she found a quiet table, acquired mocha, and sat down with her phone.

Then she dialled Michael's phone.

'Hey.' Shane's voice was dark and warm and deep, and she sank into it as if it were a blanket. 'You okay, tough girl?'

'I am now,' she said. It wasn't quiet where he was; she heard a rumble, maybe wheels. 'Are you driving?'

'I'm mobile, yep. You know me, always moving, like a shark. I'm restless without you.'

'I miss you,' she said. She leant against the wall. 'I really miss you, Shane.'

'How much?'

She laughed. 'Not enough to tell you in public, especially while you're driving.'

'Damn, there goes my chance for some hot sexy talk.'

His voice just did things to her, she realised … made her feel warm and liquid inside, made her think all kinds of things she probably shouldn't be picturing out here in front of food court staff. 'I hate my housemate,' she said, to change the subject to something safer.

'Elizabeth? I thought she was your best friend in high school.'

'She was. In high school. But-'

'She changed? Yeah, that happens. Look what happened to Michael.'

'Shane!'

He laughed again, low in his throat. 'Kidding, Claire. I'm just saying people change. If you're not there for it, it's not always easy to adjust to it, right? Which is why I hate this. I hate missing your life. I hate missing those little moments that change you. Because they're going to change us.'

He was right, but … but also, not. 'I need to change a little on my own,' she said. 'Shane, I love you, and I want to be with you, but I need to breathe, too. I need to fly a little and see how far I can go. That's why I took this chance. It's not forever. It's just a while.'

'Maybe a short while if your housemate drives you crazy. What's she doing?'

'Let me see … she's a drama queen, and not in a fun way; she's controlling; she's OCD; she's passive-aggressive …'

'You had me at drama queen. I have got to meet this chick.'

'No, you really don't, trust me. She used to be fun and nerdy, but now – now she's so self-consciously not, you know? She's working so hard to be cool that she's uncool. I think maybe she had a bad relationship.'

'Roger that. Seen too many tragic examples. You know, the ones in the hipster hats who try looking like some unholy love child of Jack White and Ashton Kutcher?'

'I learnt a new word today.'

'Which is?'

'Fidiot.'

'Ah, you're so cute. You didn't know that word? You know what it stands for, right?'

She lowered her voice to a whisper. 'Fucking idiot?'

'I love that you have to make that much of an effort to curse. Like you're worried you might scar somebody. Seriously, it's adorable. So, been attacked by any vampires yet?'

'Not a one.'

'Zombies? Giant spiders? Water monsters?'

'It's been really quiet on the supernatural attack front.'

'Too bad, 'cause I got attacked by a devil dog. It was not awesome.'

'A what?'

'A big-ass dog with glowing red eyes. Trust me. You do not want to face a pack of these bad boys. Makes wolves look like teacup poodles.'

'But you're okay, right?'

'Yeah,' he said, altogether too lightly. 'I'm okay. Nothing but bruises. The cops – and I guess, vampires – are taking care of our devil dog problem. Nothing to worry about, trust me. We'll be okay. Aren't we always?'

'Almost always.' She swallowed a lump in her throat, because the confidence in his voice had made her feel unexpectedly frightened. 'Please, Shane – don't get cocky, okay?'

'Oh, now you want to do sexy talk?'

'I'm serious! Please. Please.' The image she most remembered right now was of him floating in a tank of murky water, bleeding … dying, at the hands of enemies of the vampires. And it terrified her. 'I hate it that I'm safe here, and you're …'

'Swimming in an ocean of danger, with sharks? Hey, it's what manly men do. That, and wrestle rabid badgers.'

He was being flippant, and it killed her. 'Shane!'

He was quiet for a long moment, and then he said, 'Are you okay, Claire?'

'Yes – I – I-' She took a deep breath. On the wall across from her was a poster promoting delicious bagels, and she focused in on the colours, the shapes, and tried to clear all the frantic noise from her mind. 'I'm okay. Let me know when you get your new phone – can I call you on this one until then?'

'If you want.' He seemed pleased about that. 'I know you're getting settled and all, but maybe I can call around this time at night? Would that work?'

'Yeah. That works.'

'Because I don't want to miss a day with you.' She was silent, not because she disagreed, but because she was overcome with a wave of emotion so strong she couldn't get the words out. He mistook it for something else, because he hurried on, tone turning more impersonal. 'So, yeah, I've gotta hit it. Talk to you tomorrow, right?'

'Right,' she managed to choke out.

'Is it pushing you to tell you I love you?'

'No.' It wasn't a wave of emotion, it was a sea, and she was drowning in it. 'Love you.' That was all she could manage. She hung up the call, and burst into hot, hard tears. She struggled to keep them quiet, but she knew everybody could tell what was going on. Just another sad, homesick, lonely freshman having a breakdown. Great.

It felt good, though, in a weird way. Six coarse food court napkins later, the storm passed, and she was left with a weary, empty ache inside, but an equally empty brain. Her eyes felt swollen, and she knew she looked a mess, but sometimes … sometimes the emotions were just too big to hold.

She tossed her trash, avoided the glances of other students, and started the walk home. The row house she shared with Elizabeth wasn't that far – about six blocks, about the same distance she'd walked from Texas Prairie University to her old home at the Glass House. She spotted some students walking, and most had earbuds in, rocking out as they strolled, but she couldn't even think about that … Morganville had taught her to pay attention, or else.

So she was aware within the first block that someone was following her.

He started out far back, but no matter how fast her pace, he steadily closed the distance. Claire caught glimpses of him in blurry glass windows, but she couldn't tell much about him, except that he was taller than she was (wasn't everybody?) and broader, too. Not Shane's size, not nearly, but big enough, if he meant her harm.

In Morganville, she'd have readied a weapon, but this wasn't Morganville. Defending herself wasn't quite that clear-cut. What if she staked some totally innocent person?

'Hey!' the man finally called to her, when he'd caught up to about twenty feet. 'Hey, Claire?'

She turned, still walking, and saw that it was one of the guys from the campus. Nick. There must have been something warning in her body language, because he slowed down and held up both hands, looking suddenly cautious. 'Sorry,' he said. 'It's me. Nick. I know, it's weird I'm following you because we just met, but … I didn't want you walking by yourself, that's all.'

'Oh,' Claire said. She felt torn between continued suspicion and an intense desire to believe in someone's innocent intentions, for a change. Surely the entire world couldn't be that hideous, right? Yes, she'd had bad times; yes, guys she'd trusted had betrayed her. But it wasn't right to assume that everybody was like that. 'Oh, well, thanks. What about Viva?'

'She's hanging with my crew, headed for the dorm. Not that I actually have a crew, per se, but more of a horde. Possibly a gaggle. So, you're new, right? First year?'

'Yes,' she said.

'Already living off campus, though?'

'Well … it was probably a mistake. The dorms seem fun.'

'It's epic adventure,' Nick agreed soberly. 'Maybe you're not up for it.'

She almost laughed. 'Yeah, that's me. I'm terrified.'

He smiled, and fell in step with her. A comfortable distance away, a gentleman's distance, nothing intrusive. 'You don't seem like the wallflower type.'

It felt so natural and friendly that it came as a shock to her when she suddenly thought, I think he's flirting with me. Is he? Am I flirting back? I shouldn't be, should I? It was confusing and strange, and for a perilous second, some rebellious part of her thought, Why shouldn't I? I came here to stretch my wings. Well. This is stretching.

'I'm pretty shy,' Claire said. 'Really, I am.'

'I could tell by the way you dragged Viva over and announced her to the world. So, what's your major?'

The inevitable college question. She didn't hesitate. 'Physics.'

Nick seemed pleased, not daunted – another difference between MIT and, well, everywhere else. 'You don't just get to say physics. I mean, what flavour? Chocolate, vanilla, applied, theory …'

'A little of both.'

'I hate to be the one to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure there's no "little of both" major. You don't know yet, do you?' When she didn't answer, he shrugged and stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. 'It's okay. According to the literature, people change around. Probably good to give it some thought before you commit.'

That's why I'm here, she almost said. To give it some thought. It was about so much more than her choice of study, but she didn't know how to say that, and she didn't really want to give him the wrong idea. 'What's yours?'

'My major? Mechanical engineering, emphasis in robotics. Second year. Haven't flunked me out so far.'

'Do you think it's possible to take a human brain and wire it up to control a computer?'

He missed a step, but only one, and said, 'Ah, I get it, you're asking me a classic Trek question. "Spock's Brain", right? Where the planet of women grabbed Spock, removed his brain and stuck it in a machine to power their systems?'

'I-' She had no idea what he was talking about; she'd watched some Star Trek but not the old episodes. Her parents had been kids when those were on. 'Uh, I guess so.'

'Geek cred points for trying to stump me, but sorry, you'll have to do better than that. Would you like to try anime for a hundred?' When she looked blank, he sighed. 'What took it down, anime, or the Jeopardy reference?'

'Jeopardy, I guess. I know a little about anime.'

'A little about it? Girl, we need to get you on a study programme, fast. You're not going to last a week around here if you can't keep up with the pop culture references. How about Lord of the Rings? Firefly? Doctor Horrible? No? Clearly, we have a lot of work to do.'

He chattered on, and it was warm and funny and sweet and for a change, not at all life and death drama. She lost track of time and progress, and all of a sudden she realised they'd walked right past the steps to her row house apartment. She turned and backtracked, and gave Nick an apologetic smile.

'Ah. The old homestead, I perceive. Well, I did my Guy Duty – you're okay from here?'

'Yeah, I'm okay,' she said. She glanced up. Elizabeth's windows were dark; she'd already gone to bed. 'I should probably-'

'Go, yeah, you should. So just … see you around, then?'

'I'll see you around, Nick.'

'Goodnight, Claire.' She gave him another smile, and he returned it, and took a few steps away before he turned back toward her, pulling out his phone. 'Okay, this is probably way out of line, and feel free to Xena Warrior Princess my ass, but can I-?' He waved the phone at her, and he looked so puppy-dog cute that she almost said yes.

'I can't,' she said, quietly. 'Sorry. I've got a boyfriend.'

'Oh. Oh, right, of course you do. What was I thinking? Sorry.'

'No, don't be – look, I'm sorry. I guess I was just – I shouldn't have let you think that. I was just lonely, you know?'

'I know lonely. Lonely is a good friend of mine. No harm, Claire. I'm not going to go curl up in a fetal ball and cry for more than, you know, six hours, max.' He flashed her a ridiculously funny smile, and she laughed in return. 'See you around, then.'

'See you.'

He walked off, hands in his pockets, all loose angles and baggy jeans. The only thing he and Shane had in common, she thought, was the confidence. Shane could sling a casual nerd reference, but Nick probably couldn't string together more than a few sentences without one; Shane knew his way around a fight, and Claire was fairly certain that she could take Nick with one hand tied behind her back. Maybe two.

And yet, there was that traitorous little tingle of interest. Probably just because he represented everything that wasn't Morganville – a normal world, where the biggest thing most people had to worry about was the latest episode of their favourite show, or whether or not a girl would give up her phone number for a winning smile.

She liked that world. She just wasn't sure that she was part of it … or ever would be. That was, Claire realised, what Nick represented to her: a world where a guy could just be amusing and interesting and funny, and not fight for his life every day against overwhelming odds. A life with a home, and kids, and just the usual, mundane worries.

No vampires and monsters. No wonder she felt some tingle of attraction.

Claire unlocked the front door, smiling quietly to herself, feeling oddly relaxed now, off her guard, and when she heard the scrape of footsteps behind her she turned, still smiling, and said, 'Nick, I thought-'

It wasn't Nick.

She didn't know this guy. He was tall, broad-shouldered, handsome in a heavy kind of way that was probably going to turn unpleasant on him in a few years. He was Monica Morrell's type, she thought, and all that went through her head in the same second as her threat assessment. No gun, no knife, but he carried himself as if he was ready to move at her, and alerts flashed red somewhere deep inside her.

She braced, ready to move.

'Hi,' he said, and stopped a few steps below her, but blocking the way down. 'So, you're Liz's new roommate, right? She said she had an old friend moving in with her. I'm Derrick.'

'Derrick,' she repeated. Liz hadn't mentioned him, but then, that didn't necessarily spell trouble. Nevertheless, Claire edged one foot into the doorway, and calculated ahead what her body needed to do next in a hurry. Shift weight, swing right, complete the turn, slam the door, lock it. It was a one, maybe one-and-a-half second movement. Derrick didn't look that fast, but she'd been fooled before. 'If you're looking for Liz, I think she's already asleep.'

'No problem,' he said. 'I'm not coming in. Just wanted to say hi.'

'Hi,' Claire said, without any warmth;