raged next door, in Claire’s room, but there was only some smoke damage, nothing really serious. And besides, with all the black Goth stuff everywhere, you couldn’t even really tell.
Claire sat down on the bed beside Eve. “Are you okay?’”
“No,’” Eve said. “I want to go look out the window. But I shouldn’t, right? I shouldn’t see what they’re doing.’”
“No,’” Claire agreed, and swallowed hard. “Probably not a good idea.’” She rubbed Eve’s back gently and thought about what to do…and that wasn’t much. It wasn’t like allies were exactly falling off the trees around here…. Besides Shane, they had nobody else. Their second-best choice was a vampire.
How scary was that?
Still, she could call Amelie. But that was a little like arming a nuclear weapon to take care of an ant problem. Amelie was so badass, the other badass vampires backed down without a fight. She’d said, I will make it known that you are not to be troubled. However, you must not further disturb the peace. If you do, and it is your fault, I will be forced to reconsider my decision. And that would be…
“Unfortunate,’” Claire finished aloud, in a whisper. Yeah. Pretty unfortunate. And there was no way that this didn’t constitute disturbing the peace—or wouldn’t, as soon as Shane’s dad got rolling. He’d come to kill vampires, and he wasn’t going to be stopped by any little considerations like, oh, his son’s life and safety.
No, not a good idea to call Amelie.
Who else? Oliver? Oliver wasn’t exactly at the top of Claire’s Best Friends Forever list, although in the beginning she’d thought he was pretty cool, for an old guy. But he’d been playing her, and he was the second-most badass vamp in town. Who’d use them, and this situation, against Amelie if he could.
So no. Not Oliver, either. The police were bought and paid for by the vampires. Her teachers at school…no. None of them had impressed her as being willing to stand up to pressure.
Mom and Dad? She shuddered to think what would happen if she put in a frantic yell to them…For one thing, they’d already had their memories altered by Morganville’s strange psychic field, or so she assumed, since they’d forgotten all about ordering her home for living off campus. With boys. Mom and Dad weren’t exactly the kind of backup she needed, not up against Shane’s dad and his bikers.
Her cousin Rex…now, there was an idea. No, Rex had been sent to jail three months ago. She remembered Mom saying so.
Face facts, Danvers. There’s nobody. Nobody coming riding to the rescue.
It was her, Eve, and Shane against the world.
So the odds were about three billion to one.
2
It was a long, long day. Claire eventually stretched out on one side of the bed, Eve on the other, each wrapped in her own separate cocoon of misery and heartache. They didn’t talk much. There didn’t seem to be a lot to talk about.
It was almost dark when the doorknob rattled, sending Claire into a heart-pounding terror seizure; she advanced slowly, and whispered, “Who is it?’”
“Shane.’”
She unlocked fast and opened up. Shane came in, head down, carrying a tray on which sat two bowls of chili—which made sense, because it was nearly the only thing Shane knew how to fix. He set it down on the edge of the bed, next to Eve, who was sitting like an unstuffed rag doll, limp with grief and dejection.
“Eat something,’” he said. Eve shook her head. Shane picked up a bowl and shoved it in her direction; she took it just to avoid wearing it, and glared at him.
Claire saw her expression change into something else. Blank at first, then horrified.
“It’s nothing,’” Shane said as Claire came around to see. It wasn’t nothing. It was bruises, dark ones, spilling over his cheek and jaw. Shane avoided looking at her. “My fault.’”
“Jesus,’” Eve whispered. “Your dad—’”
“My fault,’” Shane snapped back, got up, and headed for the door. “Look, you don’t understand. He’s right, okay? I was wrong.’”
“No, I don’t understand,’” Claire said, and grabbed his arm. He pulled free without any effort at all and kept walking. “Shane!’”
He paused in the doorway and looked back at her. He looked bruised, beaten, and sullen, but it was the desperation in his eyes that scared her. Shane was always strong, wasn’t he? He had to be. She needed him to be.
“Dad’s right,’” he said. “This town is sick, it’s poisoned, and it’s poisoning us, too. We can’t let it beat us. We have to take them out.’”
“The vampires? Shane, that’s stupid! You can’t! You know what’ll happen!’” Eve said. She put the bowl of chili back on the tray and got off the bed, looking tear streaked and forlorn but more like herself. “Your dad’s crazy. I’m sorry, but he is. And you can’t let him drag you down with him. He’s going to get you killed, and Claire and me, too. He already—’” She caught her breath and gulped. “He already got Michael. We can’t let him do this. Who knows how many people are going to get hurt?’”
“Like Lyssa got hurt?’” Shane asked. “Like my mom? They killed my mom, Eve! They were willing to burn us up in this house yesterday, don’t forget, and that included Michael.’”
“But—’”
“This town is bad,’” Shane said, and looked at Claire, almost pleading. “You understand, right? You understand that there’s a whole world out there, a whole world that isn’t like this?’”
“Yes,’” she said faintly. “I understand that. But—’”
“We’re doing this. And then we’re getting out of this place.’”
“With your father?’” Eve managed to put a whole dictionary of contempt into that. “I don’t think so. I look good in black, but not so great in black and blue.’”
Shane flinched. “I didn’t say—look, just the three of us. We get out of town while my dad and the others…’”
“We run?’” Eve shook her head. “Brilliant. And when the vamps have a big party and roast your dad and his buddies, what then? Because they’re definitely going to come looking for us. Nobody escapes who had any part in killing a vampire, you know that. Unless you really believe that your dad and his idiot muscle are going to be able to take down hundreds of vamps, all their human allies, the cops, and, for all I know, the U.S. Marines.’”
“Eat your damn chili,’” Shane said.
“Not without something to drink. I know your chili.’”
“Fine! I’ll get you Cokes!’” He slammed the door behind him. “Lock it!’”
Claire did. This time, Shane didn’t linger in the hall; she heard the hard thump of his boots as he went downstairs.
“Did you have to do that?’” she asked Eve. She leaned against the door and folded her arms.
“Do what, exactly?’”
“He’s confused. He lost Michael, his dad’s got him—’”
“Say it, Claire: his dad’s got him brainwashed. Worse. I think his dad’s beaten the fight out of him. He’s certainly beaten the brains out of him.’” Eve wiped at her face impatiently; there were more tears streaming down her cheeks, but it was more like water escaping under pressure than real sobs. “His dad wasn’t always like this. He used to be—well, not nice, because he was kind of a drunk, but better. Way better than this. After Lyssa he just went—crazy. I didn’t know about Shane’s mom. I thought she just, you know…killed herself. Shane never really said.’”
Claire hadn’t heard any footsteps on the stairs, but she heard and felt a soft knock through the door, and then a rattle of the doorknob. She unlocked and swung it open, holding out her hands for the Cokes she expected Shane to thrust at her…
…and there was a grinning, smelly mountain of a man in the doorway. The one who’d stabbed Michael.
Claire let go of the door and stumbled back, thinking only an instant later, Stupid, that was stupid—you
