Glass Houses

“Shane!”

But Shane didn’t answer. Neither did Eve, although she parted her lips a couple of times, then shut them without making a sound. The rest of the drive was done in silence, and once they’d pulled in at the curb, Eve got out and hurried up the walk to unlock the door. Claire opened the passenger door and started to get out, but again, Shane was there ahead of her, helping her up. Man, he was…strong. And he had big, warm hands. She shivered, and he immediately asked, “Cold?” but it wasn’t that. Not that at all.

“Shane, what did you promise?” she blurted, and grabbed his forearm. Not that he couldn’t have pulled free, but…he didn’t. He just looked down at her. They were standing really close together, close enough she felt every nerve in her body fizz like a shaken can of Coke. “You didn’t—do something—”

“Stupid?” he asked. He looked down at her hand, and after a second, he touched it with his own. Just for a second, and then yanked away from her like she’d burned him. She’d been right; he could break free without even thinking about it. “Yeah. That’s what I’m good at. The stupid stuff. Probably for the best; having two big brains in the house might get kinda crowded.” When she tried to say something, he motioned her toward the house. “Unless you want to hang a This Vein for Rent sign around your neck, move already!”

She moved. The front door was open, and Shane followed behind her, close behind, until she was going up the steps.

She didn’t hear his footsteps anymore, and turned to look. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching the street.

There was a vampire standing at the corner, under the glow of a streetlight. Brandon. Just standing there, arms folded, he was leaning against the lamppost like he had all the time in the world.

He blew them a kiss, turned, and walked away.

Shane shot him the finger and practically shoved Claire across the threshold. “Don’t you ever stop out there!”

“You said I got a free pass!”

“It doesn’t come with a written guarantee!”

“What did you promise him?” she yelled.

Shane slammed the door, hard, and started to push past her to go down the hall, but just as he got there, Michael stepped into his path. And Michael looked pissed.

“Answer her,” he said. “What the hell did you do, Shane?”

“Oh, now you care? Where the hell were you, man? I called! I came and looked for you. Hell, I even picked the lock to your room!”

Michael’s blue eyes flickered from Shane to Claire and back. “I had things to do.”

“Dude, today you had things to do? Whatever, man. You weren’t around, and I had to make the call. So I made it.”

“Shane.” Michael reached out and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him to a stop. “It sounds like she deserves an answer. We all do.” Behind him, Eve stepped around the corner, arms folded.

Shane let out a short, harsh laugh. “Ganging up on me with the girls? Low blow, man. Low blow. What happened to male bonding?”

“Eve says you talked to Brandon.”

Claire watched the fight go out of Shane’s shoulders. “Yeah. I did. I had to. I mean—look, they threw acid on her and the damn cops wouldn’t even—I had to go to the source. You taught me that.”

“You made a deal with Brandon,” Michael said, and Claire heard the sick tremor in his voice. “Oh, dammit to hell, Shane. You didn’t.”

Shane shrugged. He wasn’t meeting Michael’s eyes. “Dude, it’s done. Don’t make a thing out of it. It’s only twice. And he can’t drain me or anything.”

“Shit!” Michael turned and slammed his hand hard into the wooden doorframe. “You don’t even know her, man! You can’t make a crusade out of this!”

“I’m not!”

“She’s not Alyssa!” Michael yelled, and that was the loudest shout she’d ever heard in her life. Claire flinched and stepped back, and saw Eve do the same behind him.

Shane didn’t move. It was like he couldn’t. He just stood there, head down.

And then he took a deep breath, raised his head, and met Michael’s furious eyes.

“I know she’s not Alyssa,” he said, and his tone was still, quiet, and completely cold. “You need to back the hell off, Michael, and you need to stop thinking I’m the screwed-up kid you knew back then. I know what I’m doing, and you’re not my dad.”

“I’m the closest thing you have to family around here!” Michael came off of the yelling, but Claire could hear the anger bubbling in his voice. “And I’m not letting you play the hero. Not now.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d step up and watch my back!”

Shane shoved past him this time, pounded up the stairs, and slammed the door to his room. Michael stood there, staring after him until Claire took a step forward. She froze when he looked at her, afraid he’d be angrier at her than he had been at Shane. After all, it had been her fault….

“Come sit down,” Michael said. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

“I don’t—”

“Yes, you do. Sit. Eve, hold her down if you have to.” He took her hand for a second, squeezed it, and stood aside for her to move to the couch. She sank onto it with a sigh of relief and rested her forehead on her hands. God, what a miserable day. It had started out so—and Shane—but—

“You understand what Shane did, right?” Eve asked, plopping next to her. “How he, you know, made the deal?”

“No.” She felt hot, and miserable, and she definitely didn’t want food. But Michael wasn’t exactly in the mood to take no for an answer. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Shane traded two sessions to Brandon in exchange for him leaving you alone.”

“He—what?” Claire looked up, mortally confused. Was Shane gay? She hadn’t even thought about the possibility….

“Sessions. You know, bites.” Eve mimed fangs. “The agreement is that Brandon can fang him—twice. He just can’t, you know, kill him. It’s not about food, it’s pleasure. And power.” Eve smoothed her pleated skirt and frowned down at her short, black fingernails. “Michael’s right to be angry about it. Not killing somebody is a hell of a long way from not hurting them. And Brandon’s got a lot of experience at making deals. Shane doesn’t.”

Somehow, she’d known that—from the way Shane had acted, the way Brandon had been watching them, the way Michael had been so angry. It wasn’t just that Shane had told Brandon to back off, or made some dumbass promise. Shane had traded his life for hers—or at least, he was risking it.

Claire gasped, and fear prickled her skin so hard it was like rolling in needles. “But if he gets bitten, is he— won’t he—?”

“Turn into a vampire?” Eve shook her head. “It can’t work that way, or Morganville’d be the Undead Metroplex by now for sure. All my life, I’ve never seen or heard of anybody turned into a vampire from a bite. The suckers around here are really old. Not that Shane wouldn’t look completely hot with a nice set of fangs, but…” She fiddled with the pleats on her skirt. “Shit. This is stupid. Why not me? I mean, not that I exactly want to—not anymore—but…it’s worse for guys.”

“Worse? Why?”

Eve shrugged, but Claire could see she was avoiding the question. “Shane’s definitely not going to be able to handle it. Boy can’t even let somebody else have the last corn dog, and he doesn’t even like corn dogs. He’s a total control freak.” She fidgeted for a few more seconds, then added, softly, “And I’m afraid for him.”

As Michael came back into the room, Eve jumped up and ran around moving things, stacking things, until Michael gave her a none-too-subtle signal to leave. Which she did, making some excuse Claire didn’t hear, and clattered upstairs to her room.

Michael handed Claire a bowl. “Chili. Sorry. It’s what we’ve got.”

She nodded and took a spoonful, because she’d always pretty much done what she was told…and the second the chili hit her tongue, she realized that she was starving. She swallowed it almost without chewing, and was