The Morganville Vampires Collection (The Morganville Vampires #1-4) (66 page)

She walked out, hips swaying dangerously. People got out of her way, and they watched her go. Fear and attraction, in just about equal measure.

Claire sighed. She supposed people always did like that sort of girl, and always would. And secretly? She envied Monica’s confidence. Maybe just a little, traitorous bit.

The dead girl that Shane had taken to the church was Jeanne Jackson, a sophomore who’d gone missing from a sorority party two nights before. The papers said that she’d been raped and strangled, but nothing about suspects, and no cops showed up to interrogate Shane, much to Claire’s relief. He’d done a dumbass thing, but she could understand his paranoia. In Morganville, he was one suspicion away from taking up residence in Jason’s old cell, whether he’d actually done anything or not.

That was if the vampires didn’t decide to hold their own brand of frontier justice.

Captain Obvious’s
Fang Report
had a much more dQ&A went pretty etailed article on the killings, linking the other two that Claire knew about with this one, and speculating that instead of a vampire menace, they might be dealing with a human one this time. He didn’t seem
as enthusiastic about forming vigilante parties for someone with a pulse, Claire noticed. Not that it mattered to the dead girls which type of monster had killed them.

She got a note from Amelie giving her time off from working with Myrnin for the rest of the week, so she devoted herself to keeping up with classes. They were tougher than she was used to, which was kind of a relief. She loved a good challenge, and the professors seemed to actually care whether or not their students had a clue. Myth and Legend wasn’t what she’d expected, not at all; it wasn’t Greek gods, or even Native American Trickster stories. No, it was about…vampires. Comparative vampires, actually, examining the literature and folklore from earliest recorded history to the latest vampire-as-hero in pop culture. (Which, now that Claire thought about it, kind of was the modern-day version of myth and legend.) Oddly, for Morganville, the professor wasn’t skipping the parts about vampire-killing methods, but Claire guessed that she was one of the few in the class who’d ever know the score about the town, anyway. The rest would bumble cluelessly through their one or two years, transfer out to bigger schools, and never know they’d rubbed elbows at parties with real monsters.

She kept her mouth shut about anything that
might get her in trouble, because the professor had a bracelet, too. She was trying to match up glyphs with vampires, and she thought he probably belonged to a female vamp named Susan, who seemed to be into finance. Susan owned a lot of property, anyway, and was some kind of bigwig at the Morganville Bank and Trust.

Claire began keeping notes in a special book about glyphs, vampires, who owned what. Not because she had any agenda, but just because it was interesting, and could be useful someday. She supposed if she’d asked, Amelie would have told her all about it, but it was more challenging to figure it out herself and this way, Amelie couldn’t be really sure how much Claire knew, which couldn’t be a bad thing.
She’s nice when
it suits her. That doesn’t mean she’s nice.

And on Friday, Eve left a note stuck to the bathroom mirror for Claire to find when she got up.

CB – Don’t forget tonight is the party. Objective:
look hotter than Monica and make everybody totally
forget who threw the party in the first place. Outfit on
back of door. Pay me back. – E.

The outfit was nothing Claire would ever, ever, ever have bought for herself. For one thing, the black leather skirt was…short. Like, really short. There were some kind of patterned panty hose and a sheer red shirt with big red roses woven into the fabric in
flocked material. And a black cami to go under it.

There was another sticky note attached to the skirt.
Shoes under the cabinet.
Claire looked. They were thick clunky platforms, in her size, in shiny patent leather.

She took it all back into her bedroom and put it down, backed off, and stared at it for a few seconds.
I
can’t wear that. It’s not me.

Eve would totally mock her if she wore her blue jeans to the party. And she’d gone to a lot of trouble, because all of this stuff was Claire’s size, not Eve’s. Even the shoes.

And…it really
would
burn Monica if Claire looked hot. (She’d never be hotter than Monica; that was a fantasy, but still.) Imagining the expression on Monica’s face, Claire slowly stroked her fingers down the soft leather of the skirt.
No. I can’t.

And then she imagined Shane’s face when he saw her.

Well. Maybe she could, after all.

She hadn’t got his expression quite right in her imagination, because the stunned, vacant expression on Shane’s face when she started down the stairs was even better than fantasy. His mouth actually
dropped open
. Next to him, Michael turned around, and although she hadn’t counted on it, there was a
warm fuzzy feeling to making a hot golden-angel vampire blink and give her a quick, involuntary once-over.

Claire stopped on the steps above them and did a tentative hip shimmy. ‘OK?’ she asked. Shane’s mouth shut with a snap, and Michael actually cleared his throat.

‘Fine,’ Michael said.

‘
Fine?
’ That was Eve, coming down the stairs behind Claire. She moved around the roadblock and punched Michael in the arm. ‘She looks amazing. I’m not half-gay, and I think she’s hot.’

Shane wasn’t saying
anything
. Claire felt warm and a little dizzy, the way he was looking at her. She resisted the urge to check to see if her skirt was straight – she’d done it a dozen times already – and forced herself to meet his gaze and smile.

‘You sure this is smart?’ Shane asked, which was not what she’d expected, not at all. ‘You look fantastic.’

‘Thanks—’

He interrupted her. ‘
Fantastic
in this town pops you to the top of the take-out menu.’

She held up her left hand and pointed to her wrist. The gold bracelet was clearly visible. ‘I’ll be OK,’ she said. ‘The vamps won’t bother me.’

‘Not even talking about the vamps. You’re going to
be drawing every guy there who’s looking to get off.’

Eve rolled her eyes. ‘Oh,
God
, Shane, buzz kill? She looks great, and you don’t have to get all jealous and overprotective about it! She’ll be with us; we’ll all look out for her. And you’ve got to admit, girlfriend looks good all cleaned up. I did her hair, too. Smokin’, right?’ The hair, Claire felt, was just almost over the top. It was mostly gel and sprays and stuff, but it did have that carefully tousled look that models always seemed to wear.

Eve wasn’t exactly wallflower quality tonight, either; she was wearing a dramatic, floor-sweeping black dress that left her pale arms bare, plunged a neckline halfway to China, and had a slit in the side that went all the way to her hip. Fishnet hose, even. It was outrageously sexy, and if Michael had noticed Claire’s transformation, he was completely focused on Eve now.

Eve winked at him and spun around to show him the back. Of which there wasn’t any. It was just her skin, and a crimson rose tattoo at the small of her back.

‘Man,’ Shane said. ‘That’s just…yeah.’

It wasn’t until she’d got past their reactions – which were pretty fun – that Claire realised that Eve must have done a number on the boys, too…because they looked amazingly fine. Michael was wearing
black pants and a black leather coat, and a dark blue silk shirt. It made him just…blaze, like white gold against velvet.

Shane looked good enough to drag back to her room. Eve must have forced him to get the worst of his shag evened up, which brought out his strong cheekbones and chin. He was wearing black, too, with a dark maroon knit shirt. Claire had never seen him in a jacket. She decided he needed to never take it off.

Michael shook his head and offered Eve his arm. She took it, smiling with her red, red lips, and winked at Claire. Claire winked back, suddenly feeling very wicked, and slid her arm through Shane’s.

‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ Shane said.

This was going to be fun.

Claire hadn’t forgot the address, even though she’d given away the invitation, and Michael knew Morganville like the back of – Eve’s back, the way he kept looking at her exposed skin, especially the tattoo. And besides, if you were within a couple of blocks of the party, you couldn’t possibly miss it. Between the glow of the lights and the low-pitched rumble of the music, there was no sleeping through it if you lived nearby.

Michael cruised around the block, looking for
parking, and finally located a narrow few feet of curb. As he pulled in, he said, ‘Ground rules. We don’t split up. Eve and Claire, you two especially. It’s not just because of the vampires; it’s because of Jason. Got it?’

They nodded.

‘Besides,’ Shane said, and playfully tugged at Claire’s over-gelled hair, ‘I want to see Monica’s face when she catches sight of the two of you. Kodak moment.’

Eve fumbled in her tiny little coffin-shaped purse and held up a brand new cell phone, with camera.

‘I’m ready.’

‘Me too,’ Claire said, and pulled out the fancy phone that Amelie had given her. She felt a blast of shame as Shane glanced at it, but controlled it. She couldn’t be ashamed all the time, and besides, it wasn’t so bad, right? What she was doing? It wasn’t any worse than having a day job. Just…different.

‘Be careful what you eat and drink,’ Michael continued. ‘Monica’s party is probably roofie heaven. I can smell what they put in the drinks; you guys can’t. And if you get into any trouble, step back; let me handle it. If you’re going to have a freak vamp friend, you might as well get your money’s worth out of it.’

Shane didn’t answer, but Claire could see there
was some smart-ass remark burning a hole in his tongue. She was glad he didn’t let it loose. It was nice to feel like four friends again, instead of four people all about to spin apart in different directions.

‘Anything else, Dad?’ Eve asked. Michael kissed her, very lightly, sparing her lipstick.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘You look good enough to eat. Promise me you’ll remember that.’

Claire was caught between a smile and a shiver, and saw that Eve was, too.

The Morrell home looked like Tara from
Gone with
the Wind
, post-Sherman’s march. Claire watched, blinking, as a mob of drunken frat boys stumbled down the walk, roaring something she couldn’t make out, and carrying a
couch
.

The couch they deposited in the giant European-style fountain in front of the house. Apparently they were relocating most of the living room out there. Some partyers were already sitting in chairs, soaking in the fountain’s spray, and now three or four of them piled giggling onto the wet couch.

‘Now this,’ Shane said with respect, ‘is out of bounds. I like it.’

It was totally out of control. The four of them stood together by Michael’s shiny vampire-tinted car, watching in admiration. The house was blazing with
lights, there were lit tiki torches tilting drunkenly all over the lawn, and partyers were
everywhere
. Making out under the trees, in full glare of the security lights. Doing shots on the big, white-columned front steps. A girl ran by, dressed in half a bikini. The top half.

‘Damn,’ Michael said. ‘Monica does know how to throw it.’

No kidding. Claire watched as a big bobtail truck inched its way through a knot of people towards the back of the house. It had the logo of B
OB’S
F
INE
  L
IQUORS
. Apparently, Monica had called in liquid reinforcements already, and the night was young.

‘Well?’ Eve said. ‘Are we standing out here all night? Because I’m ready to knock somebody dead.’

The four of them strolled up the walkway, keeping an eye out for frat boys and wandering furniture. They went as a group up the front steps, where about ten people were playing some complicated game that involved drinking shots, spray cans of fluorescent paint, and giggling hysterically. Even the drunkest turned to look at the four of them and whistle.

The frat boys, the drunks in the fountain, and the even drunker people on the porch were all wearing standard college casual dress, mostly shorts and T-shirts. ‘Um,’ Claire said, ‘Maybe we should have come a little less formal.’

‘No way,’ Eve replied. ‘If you’re going, go big.’

‘Remind me to play poker with you later,’ Michael said. ‘I love a girl who’ll go all in.’

She hip-bumped him. ‘
That’s
what you want to do with me later? Dude. Respect the dress, at least.’

Michael trailed his pale fingers down her back, following the line of her spine, all the way to the red rose. Eve shivered, and her eyes went half-closed. Whatever Michael whispered in her ear, Claire thought it was probably way too personal to hear.

Not that she could have, because right then the front door banged open and the noise flowed out in a syrup-thick wave of pounding techno and yelled conversations. Two people stumbled out of the door, arms around each other. Claire blinked and recognised two of the gamers whom she’d given Monica’s invitation to that afternoon on campus.

‘Freakin’ awesome party!’ one of them screamed, and fell flat on his face.

‘Apparently.’ Eve stepped over him and swept into the party, with Michael right behind her. Claire started to follow, but Shane’s grip on her arm had tightened, and he was holding her back.

‘What?’ she asked, and turned to face him. God, he looked amazing. He needed to let Eve dress him all the time.

‘Before we go in,’ he said, and bent and kissed her.
Claire distantly heard the whistles and catcalls of the shot drinkers – distantly, because the kiss was sweet and hot and wild, and there was something crazy in it that made her just quiver inside.

He pulled away way too soon. ‘Stay with me,’ he said, with his lips near her ear, and she nodded.
Like
I’d let you out of my sight.

And then they followed Michael and Eve into the party of the century.

It was the second big party of Claire’s life – not counting birthday parties and ones where there were as many chaperones as kids. The first one, the Dead Girls’ Dance thrown by the EEK fraternity, hadn’t exactly come out well, what with Shane’s dad going on a rampage through the place looking for vampires to stake. This one looked, if possible, even crazier.