She just couldnt.
She heard Eve yelling her name, but she didnt stop, couldnt stop; she kept running until she was in the smoke, and then she dropped to her knees and crawled into the hot, suffocating darkness. She flailed with her hands, trying to find something, anything, and kept her eyes tight shut. She could barely breathe, even close to the ground, and every breath she did manage to take was tainted and toxic, more harm than good.
Okay, this was a really bad idea.
She didnt dare crawl too far; in the chaos and darkness, shed never find her way out again. Something fell near her with a huge crash, and fire roared overhead. Claire went flat on the floor and curled into a ball, thenwhen she wasnt roasted or crushedforced herself to keep moving. One minute. One minute and then straight back out.
She wasnt sure she could survive a minute in here.
Her searching fingers brushed cloth. Claire opened her eyes and was instantly sorry, because the smoke burned and stung, and she couldnt see a thing anyway. But she had her hand on cloth, and yes, that was a leg, a pant leg.
And that was a hand that turned and gripped hers. An unrecognizable voice rasped, Get Monica out!
A new burst of fire lit up the darkness, and she saw Richard Morrell lying there, curled around his sister. Protecting her. Monica looked up, and there was sheer terror in her face. She reached out blindly. Claire took her hands and pulled her back the way shed come in, straight back. She felt the draft of air coming in the door, and that helped guide her. Grab your brother! she yelled. Monica took Richards hand, and Claire hauled with all her strength, dragging them both.
She didnt make it.
She wasnt sure how it happened exactly. One minute she was pulling; the next she was down, and she couldnt breathe, couldnt stop coughing. Oh no. No no no. But she couldnt get up, couldnt force her body to move.
Shane
Somebody grabbed her by the ankles and yanked, hard. Claire had just enough presence of mind left to hold on to Monicas wrist.
Shit! Eve was groaning, coughing, and all of a sudden Claire was outside lying in the sun, watching black smoke billow into the air. Claire! Breathe, dammit!
It wasnt so much breathing as hacking up a lung, but at least air was moving in and out. She heard someone else coughing next to her, and raised her head to see Monica on her hands and knees, spitting out black phlegm.
And now Eve was dragging Richard Morrell out by his feet.
Eve collapsed next to them, coughing, too, and somewhere on the distant edges of the fires roar, as if somebody had flipped a switch, Claire heard sirens. Oh, now they were coming. Perfect. Someones tax dollars at work, even if it wasnt hers
Claire rolled painfully to her feet. There were burned patches in her clothes, and she smelled burned hair, too. She was going to hurt later, but for now, she was just glad to be alive.
Get Monica, she wheezed at Eve, and grabbed one of Monicas arms. Eve grabbed the other, and they half dragged her across the parking lot to the shattered gate. Hess and Lowe were leaning up against the police car. Lowe, incredibly, was smoking a cigarette, but he dropped it and managed to get to his feet to stumble over to where Richard was lying, and help him up.
Michael! Eve rapped on the window of the police car. Claire blinked her watering eyes; she could just barely see his shadow through the tinted glass. Move over! Eve opened the back door carefully, making sure he was out of the direct sun, and loaded Monica into the backseat, then got in with them. Monica made a groan of protest. Oh, shut up already and be grateful.
Claire went around to the front seat, got in, and asked blankly, Whos driving?
Richard Morrell slid in behind the wheel. Joe and Travis will stay here, he said. Ill bring you back for your car. Everybody, hold on.
As Richard backed the car out and then accelerated toward Founders Square, lights and sirens going, Monica managed to get her first coherent words out between coughs.
Clairebitch! Her voice sounded raw and hoarse. Youthink thismakes usfriends?
God, no, Claire said. But I think you kinda owe me.
Monica just glared.
Ill call it even if Shane walks away.
Monica coughed again. You wish.
Chapter Thirty-four
Founders Square was insane. Richard had to stop the car almost a block away, just outside of a cordon of police cars with flashing lights. Claire got out and had another coughing fit, bad enough that Eve patted her nervously on the back and did the talking for her to the grim-faced uniformed policewoman standing guard at the barricade. We need to see Mayor Morrell, she said.
Mayors busy, the policewoman said. Youll have to wait.
Monica got out of the backseat, and the cops eyes widened. Miss Morrell? Well, Claire admitted, the smoke-stained scarecrow with frizzed hair didnt look much like the usual Monica. She secretly hoped somebody would take pictures. And put them on the Internet.
When Richard got out, as well, the policewoman gulped. Jesus. Sorry, sir. Hang on, Ill get someone here. The policewoman got on her radio and passed on information; while they waited, she passed out bottled water from her squad car. Claire took two bottles and ducked back into the patrol cars backseat, where Michael was sitting, eyes shut tight. He stirred and looked at her when she called his name. He didnt look goodpaper pale, burned in places, and apparently sick, too. She handed him the water. I dont know if itll help, but?
Michael nodded and gulped some down. Claire cracked her own bottle and swallowed, nearly moaning in ecstasy. Nothing had ever tasted so good in Claires entire life as that lukewarm, flat water washing away the smoke from her throat.
I thought Michael licked his lips and let his head flop back against the seat. I thought Id be stronger. Ive seen other vampires in the daytime.
Older ones, Claire said. I think it must take time. Amelie can even walk around in the daylight, but shes really old. You just have to be patient, Michael.