The Morganville Vampires Collection (The Morganville Vampires #1-4) (50 page)

Michael looked surprised, but his back was to Eve, and if he had any sense at all, he’d play along.

Claire went upstairs to take a shower.

Being clean made it better. Not a whole lot better, but some. She sat for a while, staring at the white envelope with her name on it, wishing she could talk to Shane about it, or Eve, or Michael, but not daring to do any of that because this was
her choice
. Not theirs. And she knew what they’d say, anyway.

Not enough no in the world, that’s what they’d say.

It was after dark when Shane finally knocked on her door. She opened it and stood there looking at him. Just looking, because somehow she didn’t think she’d ever see enough of him. He looked tired, and rumpled, and sleep creased.

And he was so beautiful she felt her heart break into a million little sharp-edged pieces.

He shifted uncertainly. ‘Can I come in? Or do you just want me to—?’ He pointed back down the hall. She stepped back and let him inside, then shut the door behind him. ‘I freaked about Michael.’

‘Yeah, you think?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Well, it didn’t exactly seem like the right time,’ she said tiredly, and sat down on the bed, back to the headboard. ‘Come on, Shane. We were running for our lives.’

He granted that argument with a shrug. ‘How did this happen?’

‘You mean, who? Amelie. She was here, and Michael asked.’ Claire looked at him for a long second before she added the coup de grace. ‘He asked because he wanted to be able to leave the house.’

Shane looked stricken. He lowered himself down on the corner of the bed, staring at her with those wounded, vulnerable eyes. The ones that made her heart break all over again. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not because of me. Tell me it wasn’t—’

‘He said it wasn’t. Not, you know, completely, anyway. He had to do this, Shane. He couldn’t live like this, not for ever.’

Shane looked away. ‘Christ. I mean, he knows how I feel about vampires. Now I’m living with one. Now I’m
best friends
with one. That’s not good.’

‘Doesn’t have to be bad, either,’ she said. ‘Shane, don’t be angry, OK? He did what he thought he had to do.’

‘Don’t we all?’ He flopped back on the bed, hands
under his head. Staring up at the ceiling. ‘Long day.’

‘Yeah.’

‘So,’ he said. ‘You got plans for tonight? Because suddenly I’m free.’

He made her laugh, even though she thought she didn’t have any of that left. Shane rolled up on one elbow, and the gentleness in the way he smiled at her made her breath catch in her throat.

He reached out and tugged at her hair, smiling. ‘You’re all wild today,’ he said. ‘Hero.’

‘Me? No way.’

‘Yeah, you. You saved lives, Claire. Granted, some people I’d just as soon see gone, but…still. I think you even saved my dad. If he’d blown up that building, killed all those people…he couldn’t have walked away from it. I couldn’t have let him.’ They just looked at each other, and Claire felt tension coiling up between them, pulling them closer. She saw him leaning towards her, drawn by the same thing. He reached out and traced one hand slowly along her bare foot. ‘So. What’s the plan, hero? Want to watch a movie?’

She felt odd. Crazy and strange and full of uncertainty. ‘No.’

‘Kill some video zombies?’

‘No.’

‘If we get down to canasta, I’m jumping… off… the…what are you doing?’

She stretched out across the bed on her side, facing him. ‘Nothing. What do you want to do?’

‘Oh, let’s not go there.’

‘Why not?’

‘Don’t you have school tomorrow?’

She kissed him. It wasn’t an innocent kiss – anything but. She felt like those roses downstairs, dark and red and full of passion, and it was new to her, so new, but she couldn’t stop the feeling that she had to do this,
now
, because she’d almost lost him, and—

Shane leant his forehead against hers and broke the kiss with a gasp, like a drowning man. ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘Slow down. I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right? You don’t have to put out to keep me here. Well, as long as you eventually—’

‘Shut up.’

He did, mainly by pressing his lips back to hers. A slower kiss this time, warm and then hot. She thought she’d never get enough of the
taste
of him; it just jolted through her like raw current and lit her up inside. Lit her up in ways she knew weren’t good, or at least weren’t completely legal.

‘Want to play baseball?’ she asked. Shane’s eyes opened, and he stopped stroking her hair.

‘What?’

‘First base,’ she said. ‘You’re already there.’

‘I’m not running the bases.’

‘Well, you could at least steal second.’

‘Jeez, Claire. I used to distract myself with sports stats at times like these, but now you’ve gone and ruined it.’ Another damp, hot kiss, and his hands trailed down her neck, feather-light. Over her shoulders, brushing skin her thin jersey nightshirt left bare. Down…

‘Dammit.’ He rolled over on his back, breathing hard, staring at the ceiling again.

‘What?’ she asked. ‘Shane?’

‘You could have died,’ he said. ‘You’re sixteen, Claire.’

‘Nearly seventeen.’ She moved up against his side, cuddling close.

‘Yeah, that makes it all better. Look—’

‘You want to wait?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Well, obviously, not my first choice, but I’m all about second thoughts right now. But the thing is…I don’t want to leave you.’ His arm was around her, and there was nothing in the world to her but the warmth of his body against her, and his whisper, and the utterly vulnerable need in his eyes. ‘But it’s not going to be easy for me to say no. So help me out here.’

Her heart was pounding. ‘You want to stay?’

‘Yes. I—’ He opened his mouth, then closed it,
then tried again. ‘I need to stay. I need you.’

She kissed him, very gently. ‘Then stay.’

‘OK, but so far as baseball goes, second base is as far as I go.’

‘You’re sure about that?’

‘I swear.’

And somehow, he kept his word, no matter how hard she tried to convince him.

Shane was still asleep, curled in a heap among the pillows, snoring lightly. She’d gotten his shirt off at some point, and Claire lay in the soft glow of the rising sun, watching the light gleaming on the strong muscles of his back. She wanted to touch him…but she didn’t want him to wake up. He needed to sleep, and she had something she had to do.

Something he wasn’t going to like.

Claire eased out of bed, moving very carefully, and found her blue jeans crumpled on the floor. The envelope was still in the back pocket. She opened it and slipped out the stiff, formal paper, unfolded it, and read the note again.

She put the contract on the desk, looked at Shane, and thought about the risk of losing him. Of Eve and Michael, too.

I, Claire Elizabeth Danvers, swear my life, my
blood, and my service
…

Shane had said she was a hero, but she didn’t feel
like one. She felt like a scared teenager with a whole lot to lose.
I can’t watch him get hurt
, she thought.
Not if there’s anything I can do to stop it. Michael –
Eve – I can’t take the risk
.

How bad could it be?

Claire opened the drawer and found a pen.

Read on for a peek at

Eve Rosser’s diary

And don’t miss
Midnight Alley,
the third book

in the Morganville Vampires series,

available from Allison & Busby
.

How do you write about thinking you were going to die? Because I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel or why I feel it. All I know is that I’m scared, and I feel naked all the time, and I just want to crawl into bed and stay there for a long, long time. Shane’s dad – God, I thought
my
parents were worthy of being hit by a train, but Shane’s dad needs to be nuked from orbit. Shane says he’s still in Morganville, but at least he and his wrecking crew are out of our house, and Shane looks more or less intact. His dad’s an ass, did I mention?
Ass
.

Michael’s back. I don’t want to think about that, because I saw him die. I saw them drag him out, and even though I didn’t see what they did to him after, I know they did things to his body before they dumped him in a hole in the ground. I can’t ask him about what that was like, what he remembers. I don’t want
to know.

Claire’s…well, Claire. Little fragile Claire, she still seems to just bounce on. I don’t know how she does it. I’m writing this before I fall asleep, and she’s down snuggling with Shane on the couch, and those two seem to really be hitting it off. I probably should sit her down and tell her the facts of life about Shane, though. I mean, she’s
sixteen
. Going on forty, sure, but…
sixteen
!

Of course, I thought I was badass at sixteen, too. Wait, I was badass at sixteen. Oh yeah.

I’m in love with a dead guy. Does that make me weird? I mean, weirder than usual? Seriously.

Although according to the
Cosmo
Boyfriend Quiz, Michael scores pretty high, with extra points for being a musician, being sensitive and artistic, and having great hands. Besides, he’s like an eight on a ten-point scale, with one being a creepy serial killer and ten being Johnny Depp.

And if he wasn’t dead?
Score
. But he is. Dead, I mean. Half the time, anyway, and I’m starting to see some limitations. He’ll never take me out to dinner. He’ll never squire me to the club and make all the other girls salivate, which is part of the fun. He’ll never…well, there are a lot of things he’ll never do, and one of them is walk out the doors of this house. Or even be around during the daytime, if I need
him.

No matter how many positives there are, that’s got to knock him down on technical fouls.

Of course, he does get extra points for wearing those totally sweet Joe Boxer underwear. (I wish I could say that I knew that because I’d gotten his belt unbuckled, but no. Laundry. Sigh.)

In conclusion: me, weird for loving a dead guy. But dead guy: totally hot.

I’m still confused.

Like there wasn’t enough trauma in my life right now, my little brother Jason is following me. I wasn’t sure about it at first… I thought maybe I’d imagined it.

You know how you see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you look straight on, nothing? Well, that’s Jason. Vanishes like smoke. Like Michael at sunrise. Pick your favourite cliché.

Except today I thought I saw him, I turned my head and there he was. Big as life, twice as scary. Not physically big, I mean; Jason’s a weed, but he’s feral as hell and he never backs away. Even before his girlfriends started ending up dead, the local thugs avoided fights with him. I can’t imagine a couple of years of jail taught him anything but how to be even scarier.

Even at the distance of twenty feet or so, he was plenty terrifying. Not that he was doing anything scare-inducing; he was just standing there. Smiling. It was on campus at TPU, middle of the day, tons of people around, and I still felt violated.

I wondered what he was going to do; I mean, it would be typically creeptastic Jason behaviour to just stand there and smile and then leave, but he stuck his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, and walked slowly towards me. He is a little shorter than me and a lot thinner – heroin chic, my bro. He’s still Gothing up, dying his brown hair into black spikes, and he had on more eye-liner than I did. He was wearing some faded, distressed jeans, clunky black boots, and a loose black shirt. Nothing special about the look, exactly, but what he did with it was… unsettling. I wanted him to stop coming towards me, but I wasn’t willing to back up, and I’d feel pretty stupid screaming for help when Jason wasn’t doing anything. He didn’t even have a weapon that I could see. Not that he ever needed one.

He stopped just about four inches too close.

‘So,’ Jason said. ‘Long time no see, Eve.’

I didn’t answer. I just watched him to see what he’d do. God knew he was capable of anything. Anything at all.

‘Just wanted you to know that I’m out,’ he said,
and shrugged. ‘I know you’ll probably want to throw a party and shit, but resist.’

‘What do you want?’ I wanted to sound tough. I think I probably just sounded scared.

‘Went by to see the folks. I figured I’d find you there, but Mom said you moved out.’ Jason had the same eyes I did. It was like looking into a mirror. A crazy, deeply disturbed, sexually twisted mirror.

‘Moved? I didn’t move. They threw me out.’

He didn’t seem surprised. ‘Didn’t give it up to Brandon, I guess.’

‘No.’ I felt bad, having this conversation. I’d sworn that I’d never talk to Jason again, and yet…talking. Chatting, even. Not good. ‘What do you want?’

‘World peace.’ He gave me that strange little smile again. ‘Who’d you sign with?’

‘Nobody.’

‘Gutsy. Stupid, but gutsy.’ Jason just wouldn’t stop smiling. It was getting on my last nerve. Any second now, I was going to snap, scream, and run like a little girl. ‘Guess who was there to meet me when I walked out of the hole under the jail where they stuck me?’

I didn’t want to know. I didn’t. But somehow he made me ask anyway. ‘Who?’
Please don’t say
Brandon
.

‘Brandon,’ Jason said. He didn’t blink. ‘Wanted
to get all old-times-sake on my ass. I never really thanked you for all that you did to help me out with that little problem, did I?’

‘Jason—’ I couldn’t help it. I took a step back, just a little one, but enough. And he laughed. It didn’t sound right, but that just made it match everything else about him.

‘Oh, relax. I’m not going to do it here,’ he said, and the laughter disappeared. What was left was quiet and dark and a whole lot worse. ‘I know where you live, sis. I know where you work. I know who your friends are. And you know Morganville isn’t big enough to hide from me, don’t you?’

I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure I could force words out past the invisible noose choking me. Jason looked me over good, up and down, and that smile came back again. Scary, soft, and somehow just
wrong
.

‘You look good,’ he said. ‘You got a guy, Eve? One of those two jerks you share the house with, maybe? You always did like the blond one. I remember. Read all your Trapper Keeper doodles about how hot he was.
Ooooh, Michael!
’

He was just trying to get to me, and I couldn’t afford to let him. At least I could be sure that he wouldn’t be able to hurt Michael, and Shane could generally take care of himself.

Jason raised his eyebrows, shrugged again, and pulled the hood up on his black fleece jacket. He walked away a couple of steps, then turned and looked back at me. ‘Put in a good word for me with your other roomie. Claire, right? Cute. Just my size.’

I felt like someone had just dumped a giant bucket of slime down my back. All my resolutions about not letting Jason get to me went out the window. ‘She’s a
kid
, Jase. Stay away. I’m warning you.’

He wiggled all ten fingers at me and grinned. ‘Booga booga. Watch me shake.’

And then he just walked away, and in five steps he was behind a hedge, and when I ran after, I couldn’t spot him. Too many people walking around, hurrying to classes, playing Frisbee, hanging out. Until you get a good, close look at him, Jason fits right in.

I guess I’d better talk to Shane about doubling up on Claire’s protection duties. He’s already taking it way too seriously, but maybe…yeah.

Probably ought to go talk to him right now.

They’ve got Shane and it’s my fault.

I told him. I told him about me, about Brandon, and most of all, about Jason. So he promised he’d watch out for Claire, right? But he wasn’t going to do the sensible thing, like actually
stay
with her. No, he was going to
follow Jason
.

And he followed Jason right to Brandon, and I guess he saw Brandon get bagged by his father. So, being Shane, does he gallop off and get the cavalry? No. Boy rides his white horse straight into enemy camp and thinks he can talk assholes out of being assholes. Worse, he does it for
Brandon
.

I think they probably made him watch. Oh God.

And it’s my fault
.

So now the vamps have got Shane in a cage at Founder’s Square and they’re going to kill him, and Michael locked me in my room, the
bastard
, when I tried to get out and save him. Like I’m some
kid
like Claire! Like I’m an idiot! Oh, no, but did he lock up Claire? Of course not! He sent Claire out on some mission or other, and he’s going to get
her
killed too. God, I
hate him
! I am so killing him later. Doesn’t matter anyway – he comes back. But I’ll kill him so he feels it. I’ve got stakes and everything.

OK, I might have overreacted when I wanted to cowboy up and go out and kill vampires, but still,
locking me in my room
? Who does he think he is? I am so totally not sleeping with him, ever. I don’t care what a hottie he is.

We’ve got to do something for Shane. His dad won’t do squat, and nobody else will, either. It’s just us now. By ‘us’ I mean me and Claire, because Michael’s no damn use.

Did I mention I’m going to kill him?

God, that was my fault. Again. I nearly got Claire raped, and for what? I didn’t have to take her with me to the Dead Girls’ Dance. I knew it wasn’t safe. I just was too punk-ass chicken to go myself, without some kind of wingman. Claire had no idea how many vampires there were at the frat house, but I did – dozens. They like campus events like this. Maybe they do have a sense of humour, who knows, but I wasn’t surprised to find out that Sam would be there.

I thought, in and out, grab Sam, get him to help…I didn’t count on the crowd or the fact that Claire might be in danger from somebody other than fanged night stalkers. So when she disappeared, I was looking in the wrong places, asking the vamps… and it was just sheer luck that I heard her yell my name over the music when I banged on that door.

Without Sam’s help, things would have gone way worse. Way, way worse. I can’t believe I nearly let that happen to her.

There was something going on with the vamps meeting at the frat house – what, I don’t know, but whatever it was, it made it easy for Shane’s dad to target the place for his Shock and Awe Retribution Tour. Killed a few kids in the process, but that’s life
to Mr Collins. God, I hate that man. I can’t believe he’s half of Shane’s DNA.

I hope Claire’s OK. We got her upstairs and into bed; she wasn’t making any sense by then, and she was clearly going out. I know she’s going to be angry that I didn’t wake her up, but she has to sleep through this.

I’m going to nap, too. Been a long day, and we’ve still got to save Shane.

Shane’s OK.

Michael’s not.

I didn’t mean for it to be this way. Not this way. Maybe I pushed him into it; maybe…maybe it wasn’t me at all. But I was a total bitch to him when he was feeling his worst, wasn’t I? I didn’t know he’d do
this
.

I guess it’s a good thing…maybe. Michael was trapped before, and now he isn’t. Now he can get out of the house, do whatever he wants. Go wherever he wants. Not only that, he’s one of the ruling class – one of the vamps. So…does that make him more dead? Less dead? Dear
Cosmo
Boyfriend Quiz: What kind of points does your boyfriend get for getting burnt by daylight, craving blood, and never tanning? Not that he isn’t still completely hot, and I can tell, even though I can see the difference in his eyes, that
he’s trying. He’s trying to be the Michael he was.

He’s trying to be with me.

I hate vampires. I
hate
them.

How can I be in love with one? How is that
right
!

I’m trying not to let him know how much that bothers me.

So there’s this paper,
The Fang Report
, put out by a guy who calls himself Captain Obvious. It’s cheap and smart-ass and it makes me laugh until I want to pee, but today’s edition: not so funny.

Because it has a picture of Michael, and it outs him as the newest vamp in town. Shane’s dad may not be around, but if he still is, or even if he stirred up would-be vampire slayers in Morganville, Michael’s now an easy target. And because he was one of
us
, one of the regular folks, he’s going to be hated. Especially by wannabe Renfields like Monica and her crew, who will believe they should have been next up on the immortality wait list.

Oh, and the news got better. At the bottom of the second page there was something else, something worse: they’ve found a second body dumped in town. Another girl about my age – I knew her from school, a little. She isn’t a vamp victim, wasn’t drained of blood. Raped, strangled, and stabbed. Second one in a few days.

And conveniently enough, Jason called this afternoon. Michael answered the phone and handed it to me – didn’t recognise Jason’s voice, and obviously Jason didn’t self-incriminate. I knew him the second he said my name. I didn’t answer. Michael hadn’t gone far, and I guess he sensed something or my body language gave it away, because he came to me and put his hands on my shoulders. I leant back against him, pulled in a quick breath, and said to Jason, ‘What do you want?’

‘You keep asking me that.’ Jason sounded amused, and stoned. ‘Just want to connect with my family. No crime in that, right? So how’d you sleep, sis? No bad dreams or anything?’

‘Leave me alone, Jason.’ I hung up. I didn’t slam the phone down, just put it back in the cradle, and then I turned and Michael was right there.