Morganville (Justin Bieber)

Chapter 97

The Donation Center was still open, even though it was getting dark. As Richard pulled his police cruiser to the curb, two people I vaguely recognized came out, waved to each other, and set off in separate directions. "Does everybody come here?" I asked.

"Everybody who doesn't use the Bloodmobile," Richard answered. "Every human who's Protected has to donate a certain number of pints per year. Donations go to their Patron first. The rest goes to whoever needs it. Vampires who don't have anyone to donate for them."

"Like Michael," I said.

"Yeah, he's our most recent charity project." Richard got out and opened the back door for me and Justin. I slid out. Justin, after a hesitation long enough to make me worry, followed. He stuck his hands in his pockets and stared up at the glowing red cross sign above the door. The Donation Center didn't look exactly inviting, but it was far less terrifying than the Bloodmobile. For one thing, there were bright windows that offered a clear view of a clean, big room. Framed posters on the wall - the same kind you could find in any town, I thought - listed the virtues of giving blood.

"Does any of it get to other humans?" I asked as Richard held the door open for Justin. He shrugged.

"Ask your boyfriend," he said. "They used quite a few units on him after his stabbing, as I remember. Of course it gets used for humans. It's our town, too."

"You're dreaming if you really think that," Justin said, and stepped inside. As I followed, I felt a definite change of atmosphere - not just the air, which was cool and dry, but something else. A feeling, barely contained, of desperation. It reminded me of the way hospital waiting areas felt - industrial, impersonal, soaked with large and small fears. But it was still clean, well lit, and full of comfortable chairs.

Nothing at all scary about the place. Not even the motherly-looking older lady sitting behind the wooden desk at the front, who gave us all the same bright, welcoming smile.

"Well, Officer Morrell, it's nice to see you!"

He nodded to the lady. "Rose. Got a truant for you here."

"So I see. Justin Bieber, isn't it? Oh, dear, I'm so sorry to hear about your mother. Tragedy has come to your door too often." She was still smiling, but it was muted. Respectful. "Can I put you down for two pints today? To make up some of what you're behind?"

Justin nodded. His jaw was clenched, his eyes brilliant and narrowed. He was fighting for control, I thought. I slipped my fingers in his where they were handcuffed behind his back.

"You remember me, don't you?" Rose continued. "I knew your mother. We used to play bridge together."

"I remember," Justin choked out. Nothing else. Richard raised his eyebrows, got a mirrored look from Rose, and tugged on Justin's elbow to lead him away to one of the empty chairs. They were all empty, I noticed. I'd seen a couple of people leaving the building, but nobody coming inside.

One thing about the Donation Center, they were better than most medical places about keeping their magazines up-to-date. I found a brand-new edition of Seventeen and began reading. Justin sat stiffly, in silence, and watched the single wooden door at the end of the room. Richard Morrell chatted with Rose at the desk, looking relaxed and friendly. I wondered if he came here to donate his blood, or if he used the Bloodmobile. I supposed that whatever he chose, the vampires wouldn't be crazy enough to hurt him - son of the mayor, respected police officer. No, Richard Morrell was probably safer than just about anybody in Morganville, Protected or not.

Easy for him to be relaxed.

The door at the end of the room opened, and a nurse stepped through it. She was dressed in bright floral surgical scrubs, complete to the cap over her hair, and like Rose, she had a nice, unthreatening smile. "Justin Bieber?"