Chapter 10:

Claire's POV:

So, basically, if we don't discover if Oliver and Vitzy are up to something – and possibly other people – we could all die. In fairness, there is a good chance that Oliver and the new girl aren't doing anything; after all, what would he stand to achieve if he did? He knows that I would destroy him, somehow, and that there would be nothing for him to take over, for humans and vampires alike would rather destroy their homes (and possibly even their lives) rather than be subjected to his rule. I cannot say that Oliver is most definitely behind whatever seems to be different in town, and since I couldn't glean any information from him, maybe I should stop looking at him as though he's guilty; this country is founded on "guilty until proven innocent" but perhaps I ought to take the other approach.

Innocent until proven guilty.

He has this newcomer to deal with – someone who evidently is more than just a friend to him – and I'm pretty sure that he'll be consumed with Vitzy for the majority of the near future, so maybe, just maybe, I shouldn't be looking at Oliver whatsoever; maybe past prejudices and animosity has caused me to assume he'll be part of it. After all, for all I know, it could be an automatic robot who is organising something to have Amelie worried; it need not always be another vampire's fault. Maybe I should be looking into the human side of things.

"Are you alright, Claire?" Myrnin's voice startles me, and I realise that I've slipped into a reverie after he told me that we could all die.

"Yes…just thinking," I reply evasively, continuing to stare into space until Myrnin pulls me around to look into his eyes. He's worried, and when something is bad enough for Myrnin to be worried, we should all be. "Well…I just thought, what if it isn't Oliver? What if we're just being prejudiced because of his past?"

And now the worry in Myrnin's eyes turns into a more mix-up between contemplation and scepticism. "Yet he has been behind most of the things of the past, is that not correct?" he argues, yet I shake my head.

"Actually, no," I reply. "He's actually been on our side more than he hasn't, which seems hard to believe. And this girl, she doesn't seem as though she wants to be a pain in the backside, which makes a change for Morganville. Basically, I think we need to look at this from the angle that it isn't involving Oliver. And if I'm wrong, then yes, you can gloat about how you're right and I'm wrong for as long as you feel fit." I make sure to add the end bit as Myrnin's mouth opens, most likely to have added that as a clause for our abandoning of Oliver as a possible suspect for attacking Morganville.

"That wasn't what I was going to—oh, alright then," he begins to lie, yet one look from me makes him shake his head and give up. "We'll forget Oliver. Just, the issue is now, who would want to destroy Morganville? It's obviously something of this magnitude – Amelie doesn't slip up in appearances with me for anything less – and so what could be so important that she knows exactly what is going on, yet doesn't dare to do anything against it?"

I shake my head and sigh, pulling away from Myrnin to begin clearing up the remnants of my failed experiment. "I don't know, Myrnin. But let me assure you of this: I'm determined to find out."

The look on his face as I turn back to face him, glass shards in my hand, tells me that he agrees, and that there's no way we're giving up without finding out what's going on. And really? I wouldn't expect anything less from us.

~x~

Things seem…different in Morganville. It isn't that the physical appearance is any different, not at all, but…the atmosphere. It's almost like it was when Bishop controlled Morganville – for the first time – and nobody knew what was wrong, really, but that there was something not right about the place. Perhaps a little more low key today, but the philosophy is the same, and it scares me; if I can sense this, then it must be pretty obvious, and there seems to be an almost 'I know but I will never tell' manner to every human who walks past me.

As I stand in the shade beneath the canopy of the bakery, I begin to notice things: people who normally would stand still and chat, aren't. Some people are gathering in the corner of the square for a few seconds and then walk off in opposite directions. There are even some people who seem to be handing things to others – it wouldn't normally be suspicious (it isn't as though we live in North Korea) not at all, but when they're two people you would never expect to even acknowledge one another, let alone be friends, then you begin to worry.

Things are happening which I wouldn't normally expect to occur, and whilst they wouldn't cause me concern if they were mutually exclusive, with everything happening together, it's sort of scaring me.

Myrnin's mentality with regards to Oliver is really starting to rub off, too. Whilst I want to see the best in him, see that he really is on our side—like he showed me when he stood with Amelie against Bishop not once, but twice—it's growing harder and harder to believe. The doubts shown by Amelie have only been visible to me since a change in Oliver became obvious; the arrival of his girlfriend (for want of a better word because I sincerely doubt that a girlfriend is what Oliver has) has only appeared to make things worse in Morganville, given that Myrnin's attempts to gain knowledge from Amelie were hampered by her almost…fear of this Vitzy arriving. I personally don't feel as though she's a threat or someone who could destroy Morganville, but then again, what do I know? I've never met her before. Myrnin and Amelie know what she's capable of, they've seen what she did before. All I know about her is that she has developed her fashion sense to fit in with the modern day idea of what fashion is, and that she seemed nice.

However, I have to give him a chance. I'm not Myrnin, after all, nor do I hold the prejudices against Oliver that Myrnin does; Oliver hasn't proven to me that he is an enemy, therefore for the moment, he will remain to be an ally. And allies often give away information that they don't mean to…particularly about people who are new to town and evidently have connections with them.

With nothing else to do, I head towards Common Grounds, hoping that Vitzy isn't in the office with Oliver. It would be helpful to get to know her in order to see whether or not she is a threat or not, but it wouldn't exactly help me attempting to find out just who she is; Oliver isn't going to give away trade secrets when the person is there, is he?

Having ordered a coffee with the barrista on the till, I wait for it at the other end of the counter before heading towards the office. Without fail, I know Oliver will be here; I can hear something from his office that sounds like his stupid humming, and if he isn't out on the shop floor, he's almost one hundred percent guaranteed to be in the office.

I open the door without knocking and wait for the barrage of insults—or at least just an evil glare—from Oliver to begin, but I'm surprised. There isn't even a negative word from Oliver. "Shut the door, please, Claire, I'm hungry and I don't want to smell the food out there." Whilst I disagree with the idea of calling humans food, for Oliver, this is positively euphoric an introduction, particularly with me not even knocking for him to let me come in.

"This is a first," I say, unable to help myself; I want an explanation for why he's being so nice. "Normally when I barge in here you either yell at me to get out, insult me as I sit down, or throw an insult about Myrnin—or all three. What's brought on the sudden Mr Nice Guy?" I wink at him, trying to get across the reason why I think he's being nice, when his expression turns to one of horror.

"That is potentially one of the most disgusting things that your modern day brain has ever concluded, and I wish that I could erase that from my mind," he mutters, shaking his head in disgust. This reaction interests me. My mind has jumped to him and Vitzy, and either his has as well and this really isn't the sort of relationship they have, or he's gone to something completely different and has the wrong end of the stick with regards to my wink.

"Are you going to tell me anything then, or are you just going to leave me with a confused mental state?" I respond quickly. "Before you say anything about my mental state anyway, let me remind you that I'm cleverer than you, and that I can twist your words to mean anything—and believe me when I tell you that if I tell Myrnin that you've said something inappropriate to me, he'll be on the phone to Amelie faster than you can make a cup of coffee."

Oliver smiles slightly, a smile of amusement and something else, something I can't quite understand. "I can make a coffee extraordinarily fast, but that's by the by. My response to your question is this: no, I am not going to tell you anything else about Vitzy. That is her business, after all; I am merely a part of her life story."

I sigh. This is evidently not going to turn out in the manner I expected it to—me tricking Oliver into giving me an abundance of information about Vitzy—so why I'm even still here is beyond me.

"So you're basically saying that you're not going to tell me anything about the girl who turned up mysteriously and even has Amelie worried, is that right?" I clarify this with Oliver, deciding that if he confirms this, I'll not only walk out but I'll throw the coffee over his head as well.

"That is correct, yes," Oliver replies. "However, before you storm out, as you females seem to enjoy doing, let me give you this hint: there are the vampire archives. Vitzy may not have been in Morganville for the past two hundred years but she was indeed part of some people's memoirs—and I know for certain that there are three people who knew her. Of those three people, one person knows her true identity, and the links she has to people today."

So basically, Oliver's refusing to tell me directly who Vitzy is, but he's pretty much told me where to get it from: the vampire archives, within his personal accounts.

Never before would I have said that Oliver kept a diary, let alone that he would allow someone else (namely myself and Myrnin) to read it.

"Got any restrictions before I go in and read your memoirs about life?" I ask, somehow managing to avoid there being any sarcastic—or strangely gleeful—edge to my tone.

"Don't read anything that has the word Gabriel at the top of the page; it's irrelevant and completely pointless," he says immediately, causing me to think that there's something dodgy on those pages. I won't read them, though; if he's giving me access to his personal recollections, that's enough for me.

I can't be certain that Myrnin won't be inclined to read them, though.

"Alright, got it," I reply, standing up and taking a sip of my drink. "Thanks, Oliver—I have to say that you've been awfully helpful, telling me all this without even a slightly sarcastic comment. Not to mention the fact that you've been helpful."

He smiles once more, this one slightly bitter. "That's because you don't know the whole story about what my life entails, Claire, not to mention the existence of this town. And, in all honesty, I doubt you ever will. Now go before I change my mind about you finding out who Vitzy is."

His words confuse me as I leave the office, heading out through the shop and into the street outside. There's something going on, we already gathered that, but that's the most prominently worded way that it has been confirmed—and from how Oliver was, I'm guessing it's bad. Why else would he have been civil to me?

This isn't my focus for now, though; now, I'm focused on getting to the archives and finding out just who Vitzy is.

~x~

Three hours into a search through the vampire archives, and I'm getting bored. There's something about this room and the history I have with it—it wasn't exactly the happiest day of my life when I came and saw Myrnin here—that makes me nervous; there's something about the size of it, and the fact that I have no idea what the indexing system is, that makes me hate it even more than I'm scared of it. In fact, the ordering of the books is so strange and illogical that I somehow manage to get from Roman records to 1912 within the space of about half a metre.

It calls for one thing: Myrnin needs to come down.

I dial Myrnin's number and, unsurprisingly, don't get an answer. He's probably lost his phone again, as seems to be his forte, so rather than try and try again, I change tactics. I'm pretty sure that I can link the archive up to the portal network if I concentrate on adjusting the machine through my mind, so I attempt to do it—an attempt which works out successfully. Within seconds, I have a door in front of me that wasn't there before, one which I open quickly to reveal the laboratory before me.

"Myrnin!" I call out, noticing that he isn't immediately in front of me, which I would have expected. However, within half a second, he's by my side—or, rather, standing about thirty centimetres away from me—his expression confused. "I need your help."

"What with?" he asks, frowning. "Aren't you meant to be talking to Oliver to find out more about our visitor? Why on earth do you need me there? I sincerely doubt that the insults would exactly aid him giving us information."

I shake my head frantically, grabbing Myrnin's hand and pulling him through the portal as I begin to speak. "He basically told me that her story is within his personal records—some diaries of some sort—but the only issue is that I can't find them. I don't really understand this system in here, so I've read a lot of diaries in the past couple of hours…just none of them are Oliver's."

Myrnin's expression changes from confusion to one expressing wicked glee within half a second, something which makes me worried. "Oliver has a diary?" he repeats, his tone pouring with happiness. "Oh, how I have hoped for something like this! I've wanted to know how he felt about my pranks back then for so long; I can finally mock him for so much more than I already did."

"No," I reply instantly, already firm on this idea in my mind. "You are not reading the diary—or diaries. Whilst I know you'd have a great time and could probably translate his absolutely dire handwriting, you'd insult him based on what he said in the past, and I don't fancy being attacked for letting you have access to his personal thoughts. No, you're merely going to help me find them…and in exchange, I'll give you the odd titbit of information."

The gleeful expression drops from Myrnin's face, replaced instead with a resigned look of acceptance. He isn't happy, I know that, but this is the best option that he's going to get, so I suppose the promise of dirt on Oliver will make him help me; I won't be giving him it all now—he can have a drip feed of information over the next few weeks—which will hopefully make him even happier, never knowing when he's going to find something out about Oliver.

Myrnin disappears around the corner suddenly, not telling me to come with him, which makes me think that he's off to find the section where Oliver's books are. Rather than follow, I sit down, flicking through an account of life in the 16th century by this vampire called Flora; it isn't very interesting, but the suddenness of the end of the diary makes me think that she was murdered before she could finish it.

"Claire! Where are you?" Myrnin's voice calls impatiently through the archive and I sigh loudly, standing up slowly. "I haven't got all day, nor enough patience to stop myself reading this diary if you don't get here in ten—oh, you're here." He changes tact as he suddenly notices me standing next to him, hand outstretched for the diary in his hand.

"Have you opened it?" I ask, looking at him sternly. Myrnin reads so fast that he could potentially have read the entire book within the time it took him to find it and then announce to me that he had found it; it was only maybe thirty seconds, but that's plenty of time for this man.

"Vampire's honour, I didn't read it," Myrnin replies, handing me the book. "The other three are on the shelf behind you. I'm going now, if you won't let me read them; it's too tempting to stay here and want to read them. Make sure you tell me when you find out something; I'll be completing my experiment." His lips press against mine softly for the briefest of seconds, but before I can kiss him back, he's gone, the pressure suddenly no longer there.

I settle down to read the diary, taking slightly more care in the reading of this book than any of the others, due to the fact that the answer could be anywhere within it.

It isn't.

I get rather a lot of jokes out of it that I'll be able to use against Oliver in the future—including how he dressed up as a woman to avoid paying a tax—but there is absolutely nothing about Vitzy in this book.

There isn't anything in the next one either, though there are even more points that I'll be sharing with Myrnin from this one, and I begin to wonder if Oliver's sent me on a wild goose chase as I begin to read the third diary. However, as I began to predict, I find an answer midway through this bound history of the ex-Lord Protector of England, one which stuns me more than I can explain.

This was not what I was expecting.

Lucy's death continues to haunt me, even three years after her death. I don't think that I will ever find myself able to live without thinking of her in some way or another. This is an issue which has been exacerbated by the arrival of a young girl upon my doorstep, a girl who looks identical to Lucy.

She appears to be called Verity, and is approaching her nineteenth birthday. Her mother is indeed Lucy, though she was sent to a boarding school far away, which explains why I did not know of her existence prior to this moment. Apparently, she has asked around for the man who her mother described in her letters—I did not know that she had written to anyone explaining about my existence; I suppose it is only fortunate that it was to the daughter, rather than anyone else—and someone who was disenchanted with me (I fear it was Myrnin) told her where to find me.

I will see her again tomorrow in order to explain certain things about what I am. I fear that she wants me to remain in her life as a sort of parental figure, due to her lack of both father and mother, and I must ensure that she either turns into what I am, so that I can fulfil this request, or she leaves and never returns. It would be rather nice to have someone who wanted me around, rather than me continue to spend time with Myrnin and Amelie, who quite obviously do not care for me; I have missed not having dependents, and it could be rather amusing.

I will report tomorrow.

-Oliver.

Hand over my mouth, I drop the diary onto the table and stand up, slowly moving towards the portal and through it into the laboratory. "Myrnin," I shout. "You're completely not going to believe this…"

He doesn't.

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