AMELIE
"As of last report," Mayor Morrell said, "there are now at least twenty vampires missing. All just disappeared in the course of their normal activities, and most vanished during the day." He stood in my office, looking exhausted and worried, as well he should; I had made it clear that sleep was a luxury none of us could afford now. With him was his chief of police, Hannah Moses, who seemed almost as tired but a great deal less rumpled.
"Here's the report on what we know," Moses said, and passed me a sheaf of papers. "Detailed information on where and when each one disappeared, as far as we can track it. Some vanished right in public, but nobody seems to have seen anything. What the hell is going on, Founder?"
I stared down at the papers, but the ink formed meaningless patterns. It was all meaningless now. All useless. I had waited too long, allowed myself to be swayed by sentiment and argument. I had denied my own instincts.
And now it was too late.
Instead of answering her, I pressed the intercom button to alert my assistant outside of the door. "Bizzie, get Oliver," I said. "Get him now. I will hold."
"Ma'am," Bizzie said, efficient as always. There was a short delay, and then she said, "He's not answering his phone, Founder."
"Keep trying."
Not Oliver. No, most likely he was simply out of contact for another reason. I had to believe so, at least. To lose Oliver now would be . . . catastrophic.
Chief Moses was repeating her question, more stridently. I lifted my head and met her eyes, and she went quiet. So did Morrell.
I stood and clasped my hands behind my back as I walked to the windows. The curtains were drawn against the day, but now I opened them. There was no light. Rain was falling, torrential rain that would wash away the world.
It was my fault.
I stared out into the cold silver downpour and said, "What do you know of our origins?"
In the reflection on the glass, I saw them exchange a look, and then Morrell said, "The origins of Morganville?"
That was not what I meant, but it would serve. "Have you never wondered why I founded this town here, in the desert? So far from the comforts of cities, rivers, lakes, water? In the baking sun, when sun is so toxic to younger vampires?" I didn't wait for his answer; of course he had wondered. Everyone had wondered, and only three of us now living knew that answer: Oliver, Myrnin, and me. "I chose this place because the rains came so rarely, and when they came, the land soaked up the water so quickly. No lakes. No rivers. Not even creeks."
"I - don't think I understand," he said.
"No. No, you wouldn't." I pulled in a breath and let it slowly out, a memory of the need for air. Vampire blood did not pound in the veins the way human blood did; it glided, cool and serene, never troubled by spurts of emotion. I missed that, betimes. "We have enemies. And those enemies are a kind of vampire, one that needs water to live. In the old tongue we are both called draug, vampire; my kind ruled the land, and theirs ruled the sea, and we were never, never at peace. I brought us here to be safe. Now the sea draug have found us. They're here. They're picking us off, like a pack of circling wolves. We have only one option if we wish to survive."
I turned from the windows and faced them, these two most burdened with responsibility for the safety of the humans of Morganville. "The vampires must run," I told them. "Far and fast. We cannot wait, and we cannot rescue those already taken. We must get out, because there is no fighting the sea draug. We did, once, in a war that shook the world. And they destroyed us."
I saw the greedy spark of light in Hannah Moses's eyes, quickly hidden; it was better concealed in Mayor Morrell, but still recognizable. Freedom, they were thinking. And they were right in this, but not in the way they understood. "So . . . you're leaving Morganville," Morrell repeated slowly. "All of you. When?"
"As soon as possible," I told him. "We've lingered too long already." I crossed back to the desk and pressed the intercom button again. "Oliver?"
"Nothing, ma'am," Bizzie said. "His phone rings, but it goes to voice mail. I checked at Common Grounds and his home. There's no sign of him anywhere."
I felt the universe waver around me, and sank slowly into my chair. I tasted salt and ashes. Oliver would never turn his phone off, not now. He would never fail to answer. He would never drop out of sight, not of his own accord.
He was gone. Another possibility taken from me, another piece of my world removed. The draug would take it from me bit by bit until there was nothing left but these humans, staring at me with the fatal glow of hope in their eyes.
I was alone now. Vulnerable.
"Ma'am?" I had left the intercom open. "Ma'am?"
"Myrnin," I said. "Find Myrnin. Tell him not to leave his lab. Tell him to get what he needs together in preparation for departure. Bizzie - in your desk you will find a black binder. Break the seal and follow the instructions. On no account will you leave your desk until it is all done. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." She sounded curious, but not shaken. Not yet. The intercom clicked off.
It was done, then. I had released the brake, and now the train would roll relentlessly on, no matter what might happen.
I had almost forgotten Morrell and Moses, but they were still standing there, watching me. I hated them in that moment for their humanity, their pulses, their safety. For the hope in them. For the way their fingers twined together, a secret promise of love that they thought no one could see.
So much lost now. So much.
"What do you need us to do?" Richard Morrell said. Fourth of his family to hold that office, and in many ways, he was the best of them. His family had rotten roots, but against all odds, it had produced this strong, healthy branch.
And Hannah Moses . . . a long history of her family here as well, a proud one. She had gone away to fight a distant war, and returned to us. She had strength, courage, loyalty, and cleverness.
I mourned for that.
I took a shallow breath, just enough to fill my lungs to speak. "I need you to get word to the humans of Morganville," I said. "Bring them to Founder's Square tomorrow at dusk. I will give you your freedom then, as we leave."
I could not look at them now. Instead, I focused on the papers Hannah had given me, the meaningless reports, the world that was already gone.
They murmured their good-byes, and I did not look up to see them go.
I heard the door close, and I was alone.
So very, very alone.