Fall of Night (The Morganville Vampires)

by Rachel Caine

  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 i
s 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. Defe
nding 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.’