“Sorry, no time,’” Shane said, and picked her up and dumped her into the chute feetfirst.
She tried not to scream. She thought she might have actually succeeded as she slid helplessly through the dark down a cold, metal tunnel meant only for the dead.
13
She landed hard, on stone, in the dark, and suppressed a burning need to whimper. A hand closed on her arm and helped her up. She heard a thumping clatter behind her, and got out of the way just in time as Shane—she thought it was Shane, anyway—tumbled out of the chute after her.
And the lights came on.
Well, not lights exactly…one light, and it was a flashlight.
And Shane’s dad was holding it.
He took one fast, cold look at his son, then one at Claire, and said, “Where’s Des?’”
Shane looked shocked. “Dad—you were supposed to go! That was the whole point!’”
“Where the hell is Des?’”
“He’s gone!’” Shane shouted. “Dammit, Dad—’”
Frank Collins looked blackly furious, face twisting, and he swung the flashlight away from them. Claire blinked spots away, and saw that he was aiming it at two of his guys standing in the dark. “Right,’” he said. “Let’s do this.’”
“Do what?’” Shane demanded, getting to his feet. He winced as he put his weight on his wounded ankle. “Dad, what the hell is going on? You said you were leaving!’”
“Didn’t kill enough vampires to leave,’” Frank Collins said. “But I’m about to even the score.’”
The two guys he had trained his light on were crouched next to a makeshift circuit board built out of what looked like old computer parts. It was hooked up to a car battery. One of the two guys held two wires by the insulated parts, but the tips were bare copper, freshly stripped.
Things fell together.
Shane’s dad had used him, again. Used him as bait, letting him think he was being the hero, distracting the vampires to give his dad time to escape.
Used him to get a large number of vampires in one place. But they weren’t just vampires; there were people there, too. Cops, and wannabe vampires. And people who were just there because they owed Oliver.
It was cold-blooded murder.
Richard had said it. Demolition this week. The explosives were already in place.
“They’re going to blow the building!’” Claire screamed, and lunged. She couldn’t fight the bikers, but she didn’t need to.
All she had to do was yank at the wires under the circuit board.
They gave with a blue white pop, and she was lucky not to be fried. One of the bikers reached her then, grabbed her, and threw her back, looking at the mess and shaking his head. “Got a problem!’” he yelled. “She trashed the board! Gonna take time to rewire!’”
Frank’s face went scarlet with fury, and he ran toward her, fist in the air. “You stupid little—’”
Shane caught his fist in an open palm and held it there. “Don’t,’” he said. “Enough, Dad. No more.’”
Frank tried to hit him. Shane ducked. He caught the second blow in an open palm again.
The third one, he blocked, and punched back. Just once.
Frank went down, flat on his ass, something like fear in his face.
“Enough,’” Shane said. Claire had never seen him look taller, or more frightening. “You’ve still got time to run, Dad. You’d better do it while you can. They’ll figure out where we are soon, and you know what? I’m not dying for you. Not anymore.’”
Frank’s mouth opened, then closed. He wiped blood from his mouth, staring at Shane, as he got to his feet.
“I thought you understood,’” he said. “I thought you wanted—’”
“You know what I want, Dad?’” Shane asked. “I want my life back. I want my girlfriend. And I want you to leave and never come back.’”
Frank’s eyes went flat, like a shark’s. “Your mother’s turning over in her grave, watching you betray your own kind. Your own father. Siding with the parasites that infest this sick town.’”
Shane didn’t answer him. The two of them stared at each other in tense, angry silence for a few seconds, and then Claire heard metal clattering from up above. She tugged on Shane’s arm urgently. “I think they found the chute,’” she said. “Shane—’”
Shane’s dad said, “I should have left you in the damn cage to fry, you ungrateful little bastard. You’re no son of mine.’”
“Hallelujah,’” Shane said softly. “Free at last.’”
His dad turned off the flashlight, and Claire heard running footsteps in the dark.
Shane grabbed Claire’s sweating hand, and they ran the opposite direction, with Shane breathlessly counting steps, until there was a golden glow of light at the end of the tunnel.
Shane wanted to run, but escape was impossible. Unless they made it out of Morganville, and even then, Claire understood—finally—that the vampires wouldn’t let them leave. Not with what they’d done, or nearly done.
She needed to make it right.
Claire worked it out in her head before she said anything to him; Shane was talking in a breathless monologue, spinning a plan to steal a car, head out of town, maybe out of state.
Claire kept quiet until she saw the cherry red and blue flashers of a Morganville police cruiser coming down the darkened street, and then she let go of Shane’s hand and said, “Trust me.’”
“What?’”
“Just trust me.’”
She stepped out in front of the police car, which came to a fast, controlled stop. A floodlight blinded her, and she stood still for it. She sensed Shane retreating, and said, sharply, “Shane, no! Stay where you are!’”
“What the hell are you doing?’”
“Surrendering,’” she said, and put her hands in the air. “Come on. You, too.’”
She didn’t think he would, for a long terrifying second, and then he stepped out into the street with her, put his hands up, and laced his fingers behind his head. The police cruiser’s doors popped open, and Shane dropped to his knees. Claire blinked at him, then followed suit.
She was on the ground in seconds, pinned by someone’s hot, hard hand, and she heard a male voice say, “Heller here. We’ve got Danvers and the Collins kid. They’re alive.’”
She didn’t hear the reply, but she was too busy wondering if she’d made an awful mistake as cold steel handcuffs clicked shut around her wrists. The policeman hauled her upright by her elbow, and she winced at the pull on her sore muscles. Next to her, Shane was getting the same treatment. He wasn’t resisting. He looked… tense.
“It’s okay,’” she told him. “Trust me.’”
His eyes were wild, but he nodded.
Better be right, she thought, and swallowed hard as they were shoved inside the back of the police car.
The police didn’t talk to her or Shane at all. The ride was short, and silent, and when the cruiser pulled into the parking garage at City Hall, there was a welcoming committee standing there waiting. Claire almost cried at the sight of Michael and Eve—smoke-stained but standing side by side, holding hands. They looked worried. Next to them was Richard Morrell, with a bandage on his head.
And Mayor Morrell. She couldn’t read his expression at all—annoyed, but she thought that was usual for him. Claire caught a glimpse of red hair, and saw Sam leaning against a pillar up on the dock. Apart from Michael, he was the only vampire present. At least, the only one she could see.
The cruiser’s doors were opened, and Claire slid out. The mayor looked her over, then Shane. His eyes narrowed.
