“Claire!’”
She stiff-armed open the door and escaped into the day. She looked back to see Sam standing there at the edge of the strip of sunlight inside Common Grounds, staring after her with an expression on his face like he’d lost his best—his only—friend.
Dammit, she was not any vampire’s friend. She couldn’t be. And she wasn’t going to be, ever.
6
Claire decided on the way home that maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to blurt all of it out to Shane—not about Monica, or his dad, or the vampire Sam. Instead, she made dinner (tacos) and waited for Michael to rejoin the world. Which he did, as soon as the sun was safely under the horizon, and looked just as normal and angelic as ever.
She somehow got the message across to him that she needed to talk in private, which resulted in Michael drying dishes in the kitchen while she washed up. How that happened, she wasn’t sure—it wasn’t her turn—but the warm water and smooth suds were kind of soothing.
“Did you tell Shane about Monica?’” Michael asked when she was done relating the day’s events. He didn’t seem bothered, but then, it took a lot to faze Michael. He might have been wiping the plates a little too thoroughly, though.
“No,’” she said. “He gets a little, you know, about her.’”
“Yeah, he does. Okay, you need to be careful, you know that, right? I’d ask Shane to go with you to class, but—’”
“But that’s probably what she wants,’” Claire finished, and handed him another plate. “To get us both together so she can use us against each other. Right?’”
Michael nodded, eyebrows going up. “All she has to do is grab you and she’s got him. So be careful. I’m—not much use, outside of here. Or any use, actually.’”
She felt bad for the flash of anger in his eyes—it wasn’t directed at her but at himself. He hated this. Hated being trapped here while his friends needed him.
“I’ll be fine,’” she said. “I got a new cell phone. Mom and Dad sent it.’”
“Good. You’ve got us all on speed dial?’”
“One, two, and three. And 911 on four.’”
“Sweet.’” Michael hip-bumped her. “How are classes?’”
“Okay.’” She couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for them right at the moment. “We’re not talking about Shane’s dad?’”
“Nothing to talk about,’” he said. “You stay out of Common Grounds, and stay away from Oliver. If Shane’s dad was in there, he was probably just taking a look around. Oliver might have sent him on his way. He does a good regular-guy act.’” Michael ought to know, Claire reflected. Oliver had done a good enough regular-guy act to charm his way into the house, where he’d killed Michael, trying to make him a vampire. The house had saved Michael— partly. A kind of supernatural apology for having failed to protect him in the first place. The house did things like that. It was creepy, and occasionally flat-out scary, but it was at least mostly loyal to whoever was in residence.
Oliver, though…Oliver was loyal to Oliver. And that was about it.
“So we do nothing?’” Claire asked.
“We do the best nothing you’ve ever seen.’” Michael put the last plate away and tossed the towel over his shoulder like a bartender going on break. “Meaning, you do nothing, Claire. That’s an order.’”
She gave him a cockeyed mock salute. “Yes, sir, sorry, sir.’”
He sighed. “I liked you better when you were this timid little kid. What happened?’”
“I started living with you guys.’”
“Oh, right.’”
He fluffed her hair, smiled, and ambled off toward the living room. “It’s game night,’” he said. “I made Shane swear, no video games tonight. I think he’s blowing the dust off of Monopoly. I wouldn’t let him have Risk. He gets crazy with Risk.’”
Didn’t they all?
“So, I got a new job,’” Eve said brightly as they sat on the floor around the Monopoly board. Shane was kicking ass, but Michael had the railroads; Eve and Claire were just mostly watching their money stacks dwindle. No wonder people like this game, Claire thought. It’s just like life.
“You got a job already?’” Shane asked as Michael rattled the dice in his hand and then tossed them out on the faded, warped board. “Jeez, Eve, throw the brakes on full employment. You’re making me look bad.’”
“Shane Collins, permanent slacker. If you’d book more than one interview a month, and actually, you know, show up to them, you might get a job, too.’”
“Oh, so now you’re a career counselor?’”
“Bite me. You’re not even going to ask me where?’”
“Sure,’” Michael said as he moved his cannon across four squares. “Where?…Oh, crap.’”
“That’ll be five hundred, my man. And extra for clean towels in the hotel.’” Shane held out his palm.
“I got hired at the university,’” Eve said, watching Michael count out cash and hand it over to Shane. “In the student union coffee shop. I even got a raise.’”
“Congratulations!’” Claire said. “And you’re not working for an evil vampire. Bonus.’”
“Bosswise, a definite step up. I mean, he’s a slack-jawed loser with bad breath and a drinking problem, but that pretty much describes most of the male population of Morganville….’”
“Hey!’” both Shane and Michael chorused, and Eve gave them both a brilliant grin.
“Excluding the hotties in the room, of course. And cheer up, guys—it includes most of the female population, too. Anyway. Better hours—I’m working days, so not a lot of vamp worries—and bigger paychecks. Plus, I get to check out campus life. I hear they party hard.’”
“From the other side of the counter, all you’re going to see is people dissing you and complaining about their drinks,’” Shane said without looking up. “You watch yourself, Eve. Some of those assholes on campus think that if you’re wearing a name badge, you’re their own personal toy.’”
“Yeah, I know. I heard about Karla.’”
“Karla?’” Claire asked.
“She works at the university,’” Eve said. “Karla Gast. We went to school with her.’” Michael and Shane both looked up and nodded. “She was kind of a party girl in high school, you know? Real pretty, too. She went to work on campus—I don’t know what she was doing—but anyway, she’s missing.’”
“It was in the paper,’” Michael said. “Abducted last night walking to her car.’”
Claire frowned. “Why would it be in the paper? I mean, they don’t usually put stuff like that in the papers, right?’” Because in Morganville, murder was sort of legitimate, wasn’t it?
“They do if it wasn’t vampires,’” Eve said, and nibbled on a carrot stick as she rolled the dice. “Oooooh, pay me my two hundred, Mr. Banker. If she’d been dragged off by vamps, even rogue vamps, it would have just been swept under the carpet like usual. Payoffs to the family, end of the story. But this is different.’”
“Is that, you know, unusual? Crime? Crime that isn’t vampire related, I mean?’”
“Kinda.’” Eve shrugged. “But people tend to get nasty around Morganville. Nasty, or drunk, or timid. One of those.’”
“Which are you?’” Shane asked. Eve bared her teeth at him and growled. “Ouch. Right. Gotcha.’”
“So…Eve, I heard your brother’s out of jail,’” Michael said. Claire was rolling dice for her move, and by the time the plastic hit the board it sounded as loud as plates shattered on a tile floor. Nobody was making a sound. Nobody was breathing, so far as she could tell. From the expression on his face, Michael was clearly rethinking having brought up the subject, and Eve looked…hard and fierce and (deep down) scared.
Shane was just watching, no expression at all.
Awkward.
“Um…’” Claire cautiously slid her Scottie dog the six squares that she’d rolled. “You haven’t said much about
