Michael Glass. Back from the dead, again, a gorgeous blond avenging angel, breathing hard. Flushed with anger, blue eyes flashing. He glanced at the two girls, making sure they were okay, and then put the blade of the hockey stick on the bikers throat. The bikers eyes fluttered and tried to open, but didnt make it. He relaxed into unconsciousness.
Eve flew toward Michael, leaped over the bikers body, and fastened herself around Michael like she was trying to be sure he was all there. He must have been; he winced from the force of the impact, then kissed her on the top of her head without looking away from the man lying limp at their feet.
Eve, he said, and then glanced at her and gentled his tone. Eve, honey, go open the door.
She nodded, stepped away, and followed instructions. Michael handed her the hockey stick, grabbed the biker by the shoulders, and towed him quickly out into the hallway. He closed the door again, locked it, and said, Right, heres the storyEve, you knocked him out with the hockey stick and
He didnt finish, because Eve grabbed him and pushed him back against the door, wrapping herself around him like a Goth-girl coat. She was crying again, but silently; Claire could see her shoulders shaking. Michael sighed, put his arms around her, and bent his blond head to rest against her dark one.
Its okay, he murmured. Youre okay, Eve. Were all okay.
You were dead! she wailed, muffled by the fact that her face was still pressed against his chest. Damn you, Michael, you were dead, I saw them kill you, andthey
Yeah, it wasnt too pleasant. Something passed fast and hot across Michaels eyes, the reflection of a horror that Claire thought he didnt want to remember or share. But Im not a vampire, and they cant kill me like a vampire. Not while the house owns my soul. They can do pretty much anything to my body, but it justgets fixed.
The prospects of that made Claire sick, like standing on the edge of a huge and unexpected drop. She stared at Michael, wide-eyed, and saw he understood the same things she did: that if Shanes father and his merry band of thugs found out, they might decide to test that out. Just for fun.
Thats why Im not here, Michael said. You cant tell them. Or Shane.
Not tell Shane? Eve pulled back. Why not?
Ive been watching, he said. Listening. I can do that when Im, you know
A ghost? Claire supplied.
Exactly. I saw Michael didnt go on, but Claire thought she knew what hed been about to say.
You saw Shanes dad hit him, she said. Right?
I dont want to make him keep secrets from his dad. Not now.
Footsteps pounding up the stairs, then slowing when they hit the hallway. Michael touched his finger to his lips and eased out from Eves frantic grip. He pressed his lips silently to hers.
Hide! Claire whispered. He nodded and opened the closet, rolled his eyes at the mess inside, and forced his way in. Burying himself in piles of clothes, Claire hoped. Miranda had been trapped in that closet after trying to knife Eve, before the house had caught fire; shed really done a job of messing things up. Eve was going to be furious.
Both girls jumped at a hard blow on the door. Eve hastily unlocked the door and stepped back as it flew open, and Shane charged through.
How? He was breathing hard, and he had a crowbar in his hand. Hed have broken through the locks, Claire realized, if hed had to. She came toward him slowly, trying to figure out what he was feeling, and he dropped the crowbar and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up off the ground. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, and the warm, fast pump of his breath on her skin made her shiver in raw delight. Oh Christ, Claire. Im sorry. Im so sorry.
Not your fault, Eve said. She held out the field hockey stick. Look! I hit him. Um, twice.
Good. Shane kissed Claires cheek and let her slide back down to the floor, but he kept hold of her arms. His eyes, bright under the bruises and swelling, surveyed her carefully. He didnt hurt you? Either of you?
I hit him! Eve repeated brightly, and brandished the stick again for emphasis. So, no, he didnt hurt us. We hurt him. You know, all alone. Without any help. Um, sowheres your dad? He charges to the rescue pretty slow.
Shane closed the door and locked it again as the biker in the hall groaned and rolled over on his side. He didnt answer, which was answer enough. Shanes dad needed his bikers more than he needed Eve or Claire. They were expendable. Worse, theyd probably just become rewards.
We cant stay here, Eve said. It isnt safe. You know that.
Chapter Four
Shane nodded, but he looked bleak. I cant come with you.
Yes, you can! Shane
Hes my dad, Eve. Hes all Ive got.
Eve snorted. Yeah, well, what youve got Id give back.
Sure, you just walked away from your folks
Hey!
Didnt even care what happened to them
They didnt care what happened to me! Eve almost shouted it. Suddenly, the hockey stick in her hands wasnt so much for display. Leave my family out of this, Shaneyou dont have a clue. Not a clue.
Ive met your brother, Shane shot back.
They both went quiet. Dangerously quiet. Claire cleared her throat. Brother?
Leave it alone, Claire, Eve said. She sounded dead calm, not at all like herself. You really dont want to get into it.
Bones in every family closet in Morganville, Shane said. Yours rattle pretty loud, Eve. So dont judge me.
Heres a thought: why dont you get the hell out of my room, you ass**le!
Shane picked up his crowbar, opened the door, and stepped outside. He reached down and hauled the biker to his feet, and shoved him toward the stairs. The biker went, still groaning and weaving.
Claire peeked through the gap in the door until she was sure they were gone, then nodded to Eve, who dumped the hockey stick and opened the closet door. Oh, crap, she sighed. I hope nothings torn in there. It is not easy to get clothes in this town. Michael?