Morganville (Justin Bieber)

Chapter 68

The house was empty when I arrived. No Justin, no Eve, and I hadn't seen Michael again at the Elder's Council building before Hans and Gretchen had bundled me off. I felt very alone, and I locked all the doors and made sure of all the windows.

The house felt ... warm, somehow. Not in the hot-air sense, but cozy. Welcoming. I put my hand flat on the wall in the living room. "Can you hear me?" I asked, and then felt stupid. It was just a house, right? Just wood and bricks and concrete and wiring and pipes. How could it hear me?

But I couldn't shake the feeling that the house had jabbed me awake this morning, me and Justin and Eve. That it had been trying to warn us. The house had saved Michael, after all, when he'd been killed by Oliver; it had given him what life it could, as a ghost. It wanted to help.

"I wish you could talk," I said. "I wish you could tell me who tried to kill Sam."

But it couldn't, and I was talking to a dumbass wall. I sighed, turned away, and caught a glimpse of a piece of paper stirring in a breeze.

A breeze that wasn't there.

The paper was lying on the table, on top of Michael's guitar case. I grabbed it and read it, barely daring to believe --

What was I thinking? That the house was going to provide me with the name of Sam's would-be Van Helsing? Of course not. It wasn't an answer to my question.

It was a class schedule printout, stamped AMENDED in big red letters. My core classes were mostly gone; the notation next to them showed that I'd tested out.

What caught my attention, though, was what had been scheduled in their place. Advanced Biochem. Philosophical Studies. Quantum Mechanics. Honors Myth & Legend.

Wow. Was it wrong that I felt my heart skip a beat over that? I checked the times, then my watch. I barely had an hour until the first new class, but I couldn't go yet. Not until I'd heard from Justin and Eve.

Thirty minutes later I was on the phone, trying to get somebody to answer my questions at the police station, when I heard the locks rattle on the door and Eve's voice saying, " -- dumbass," and the knot of fear in my chest began to loosen. "Yo, Ana! You here?"

"Here," I said, and hung up to come down the hall toward them.

Eve had her arm around Justin, half-supporting him. I blinked and focused on his face. At the swelling and bruises. "Oh God," I said, and hurried to his side to help Eve. "What happened?"

"Well, Big Man here decided to get a little shirty with Officer Fenton. You ever see Bambi Versus Godzilla? It was like that, only with more punches," Eve said. She sounded false and bright, like tinsel. "I tried to take him to the hospital and get checked out, but -- "

"I'm fine," Justin gritted out. "I've had worse."

Probably true, but I still felt painfully helpless. I wanted to do something. Anything. Me and Eve got Justin to the couch, where he collapsed against the cushions and closed his eyes. He looked pale, under the bruises. I stroked his matted hair anxiously, silently asking Eve what to do; Eve shrugged and mouthed, just let him rest. She looked scared, though.

"Justin," Eve said aloud. "Seriously, I don't want to leave you here alone. You need to go to the hospital."

"Thanks, Mom," he said. "It's bruises. I think I'll live. Go on, get out of here." He reached up and captured my hand, and his dark eyes opened. Well, one of them. The other was swelling shut. "What happened to you? You okay?"

"Nothing happened, I'm fine. I talked to Amelie." I pulled in a deep breath. "Sam's going to be okay, I think."

"And Michael? Michael was all right?" Eve asked.