'What?' The knife pressed harder against her wrist, hot and painful, and she thought about how easy it would be for him to cut right through her veins. Her whole arm was shaking, but somehow, she managed to hold still against an overwhelming urge to try to yank her wrist away. It would only do the job for him. 'I'm — yes. I'm Protected. You'll get in trouble for this, Jason.'
He had a truly creepy smile, a rubbery snarl that didn't affect his hot, strange eyes at all. 'I was born in trouble,' he said. 'Bring it on. You tell whatever vamp put the mark on you that I know something. Something that could blow this town in half. And I'll sell it for two things: rights to do whatever I want to my sister, and a ticket out of Morganville.'
Oh God oh God oh God. He wanted to bargain. For Eve's life.
'I'm not making any deals,' she said, and knew it was probably a death sentence. 'I'm not going to let you hurt Eve.'
He actually blinked. It made him look almost human, for a second, and she remembered that he wasn't much older than her. 'How you going to stop me, cupcake? Hit me with your book bag?'
'If I have to.'
He sat back, staring at her, and then he laughed. Loudly. It was a harsh, metallic clatter of a laugh, and she thought, oh God he's going to kill me, but then he lifted up the handkerchief covering her wrist and like a magic trick, the knife was gone. There was a trickle of blood dripping from the shallow cut in her skin, and she was starting to feel the burn.
'You know what, Claire?' Jason asked. He got up, stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, and smiled at her again. 'I'm going to like you a lot. You're a scream.'
He strolled off, and Claire tried to get up and see where he was going, but she couldn't. Her knees wouldn't cooperate. He was out of sight in seconds.
Claire looked at the coffee bar. Eve was standing there, motionless, staring right at her with huge dark eyes, and even without the Goth rice powder she'd have been pale as death.
Eve mouthed, You okay?
Claire nodded.
She really wasn't, though, and the cut on her wrist wouldn't stop bleeding. She dug in her backpack and found an adhesive bandage —she always kept them, just in case she got blisters on her feet from all the walking. That seemed to do the trick.
She was smoothing it in place when she felt someone standing over her, and jumped, expecting the return of Jason, complete with psycho stabbing attack.
But It was Michael. He had his guitar case in his hand, and he looked —great. Relaxed, somehow, in a way that she'd never really seen him. There was even a slight flush of color in his face, and his eyes were shining.
But that quickly faded, and he frowned. 'You're bleeding,' he said. 'What happened?'
Claire sighed and held up her wrist to show him the bandage. 'Man, you would be so embarrassed if I said it was something else.' Michael looked blank. 'I'm a girl, Michael, it could have been all natural, you know. Tampons?'
Vampire or not, he was such a guy, and his expression was priceless —a combination of embarrassment and nausea. 'Oh crap, I hadn't really thought that through. Sorry. Not really used to this yet. So — what happened?'
'Paper cut,' she said.
'Claire.'
She sighed. 'Don't freak, okay? It was Eve's brother, Jason. I think he just wanted to scare me.'
Michael's eyes widened, and his head turned fast, searching the coffee bar for Eve. When he saw her, the relief that spread over his face was painful — and it didn't last long before it curdled into something grim. 'I can't believe he'd come here. Why can't they catch this jerk?'
'Maybe somebody doesn't want to,' she said. 'He's only killing human girls. If he's the one doing it.' Although he'd pretty much confessed, hadn't he? And the knife was a big clue. 'We can talk about it later. I need to get — ' She remembered, just in time, that she couldn't talk to Michael about Myrnin. 'Get to class,' she said. She hadn't really thought Amelie would make her go alone, and she wasn't sure she could do it. Myrnin was fascinating, most of the time, but then when he turned ... no, she couldn't go alone. What if something happened? Sam wouldn't be there to help get him off her.
Michael didn't move. 'I know where you're going,' he said. 'I'm your ride.'
She blinked. 'You're — what?'
He lowered his voice, even though nobody was paying attention. 'I'll take you where you're supposed to go. And I'll wait for you.'
###
Amelie had told him, Claire found out on the way to Michael's new car. She'd needed to, apparently; she hadn't trusted any vampire but Sam with the information and access to Myrnin, but Michael had an investment in Claire's wellbeing, and Sam was going to be out of action for a couple of days at least. 'But he's okay?' Claire asked.
Michael opened the door to the parking garage for her, an automatic gesture that he'd probably learned from his grandfather, once upon a time. He had some of Sam's mannerisms, and they had the same walk. Funny how she was just starting to notice that. 'Yeah,' Michael said. 'He nearly died, though. People — vampires — are pretty wired right now. They want the one who staked him, and they don't really care how it happens. I made Shane promise to keep his ass inside, and not to go out alone.'
'You really think he'll keep his word?'
Michael shrugged and opened the door of a standard-issue dark vampire-tinted sedan, exactly the same as the one Sam had driven. A Ford, as it happened. Nice to know the vamps were buying American. 'I tried,' he said. 'Shane doesn't listen to much anything I have to say anymore.'
Claire got into the car and buckled in. As Michael climbed in the driver's side, she said, 'It's not your fault. He's just not dealing with it very well. I don't know what we can do about that.'
'Nothing,' Michael said, and started the car. 'We can't do anything about it at all.'
It was a short drive, of course, and as far as Claire could tell from the dimly seen streets outside Michael took the same route Sam had to the alley, and Myrnin's cave. Michael parked the car at the curb. When she got out, though, Claire realized something, and bent to look into the dim interior of the car, and ducked back inside.
'Crap,' she said. 'You can't come inside, can you? You can't go out in the sun!'
Michael shook his head. 'I'm supposed to wait out here for you until the sun goes down, then I'll come in. Amelie said she'd make sure you were safe until then.'
'But — ' Claire bit her lip. It wasn't Michael's fault. There were about three hours of sun left, so she was just going to have to watch her own back for a while. 'Okay. See you after dark.'
She closed the car door. When she straightened up she saw that Gramma Katherine Day was on the porch of her big Founder's house, rocking and sipping what looked like iced tea. Claire waved. Gramma Day nodded.
'You bein' careful?' she called.
'Yes ma'am!'
'I told the Queen, I don't like her putting you down there with that thing. I told her,' Gramma Day said, with a fierce stab of her finger for emphasis. 'You come on up here and have some iced tea with me, girl. That thing down there, he'll wait. He don't know where he is half the time, anyway.'
Claire smiled and shook her head. 'I can't, ma'am, I'm supposed to be there on time. Thank you, though.' She turned toward the alley, then had a thought. 'Oh — who's the Queen?'
Gramma made an impatient fly-waving gesture. 'Her, of course. The White Queen. You're just like Alice, you know. Down the rabbit hole with the Mad Hatter.'
Claire didn't dare think about that too much, because the phrase off with her head! loomed way too close. She gave Gramma Day another polite smile and wave, hitched her backpack higher on her shoulder, and went to Night School.
CHAPTER EIGHT
