The Birch House

Chapter Fourteen

No sign of Chase on Monday morning, but I got up way early - just after Alex would have evaporated into mist, in fact. I showered and grabbed a pop-tart from the cabinet for breakfast, washed the dishes from last night's disaster of parental dinner - hadn't that been Alex's job? - and emptied out my backpack to stuff in the metal canister (to return to the chem lab, which made it borrowing, not stealing) and the Bible with its concealed secret.

And then I thought, it won't do any good if they just steal it from me, and took it out again and put it on the shelves, wedged in between an old volume 10 of the World Encyclopedia and some novel I'd never heard of. Then I stepped out, locked the door, and began walking towards the school.

The chem lab was busy when I arrived between classes, and I had no trouble slipping into the supply room to put the cannister back in place, after carefully wiping my fingerprints from everything I could think of. That moral duty done, I hustled to the admissions office to put in my paperwork to withdraw from school. Nobody seemed surprised. I supposed that there were a lot of withdrawals. Or disappearances.

It was noon when I walked down to Costa Coffee. Alyssa was just arriving, yawning and bleary eyed; she looked surprised to see me as she handed over the cup of tea. "I thought you weren't supposed to leave the house," she said. "Alex and Chase said-"

"I need to talk to Martin," I said.

"He's in the back." Alyssa pointed. "In the office. Evie? Is there anything wrong?"

"No," I said. "I think something's about to be write for a change."

The door marked OFFICE was closed. I knocked, heard Martin's warm voice telling me to enter, and came in. He was sitting behind a small desk in a very small room, windowless, with a computer running in front of him. He smiled at me and stood up to shake my hand. "Evie," he said. "Good to see you're safe. I heard there had been some...unpleasantness."

Martin was wearing a tie-dyed Grateful Dead tshirt and blue jeans with faded patches on the knees - not so much style as wear, I figured. He looked tired and concerned, and I thought suddenly that there was something about him a lot like Alex. Except that he was here in the daytime, of course, and at night, so he couldn't be a ghost. Could he?

"Michael is very unhappy," he said. "I'm afraid that there's going to be some retaliation. Michael likes to strike at an angle, not straight on, so you'd better watch out for your friends, as well. That would include Alyssa, of course. I've asked her to be extra careful."

I nodded, heart in my throat. "Um...what if I have something to trade?"

Martin sat down and leant back in his chair. "Trade for what? And to whom?"

"I - something important. I don't want to be more specific than that."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to be, if you want me to act as any kind of go-between for you. I can't trade if I don't know what I'm offering."

I realised I was still holding my teacup, and put it down on the corner of the desk. "Um...I'd rather do it myself. But I don't know who to go to. Whoever can order Michael around, I guess. Or even higher than that."

"There is a social order to the vampire community," Martin agreed. "Michael is hardly at the top. There are to factions, you know. Michael is part of one - the darker side, I suppose you could say. It depends on your point of view. Certainly, from a human standpoint, neither faction is exactly lily-white." He shrugged. "I can help you, if you'll let me. Believe me, you don't want to try to contact these people on your own. And I'm not sure they'd even allow you to do so."

I bit my lip, thinking about what Alex had said about the deals in Mystic. I wasn't good at it; I knew that. And I didn't know the rules.

Martin did, or he'd have been dead a long time ago. Besides, he was Alyssa's boss, and she liked him. Plus, he'd been able to keep Michael from biting me at least twice.  That had to count for something.