"Here," Michael said, and handed her the flashlight. "She might come looking for us here, but not for a while."
It was a secret hidey-hole, one that Claire had been shoved into on her very first morning in the Glass House; no exits, only the one entrance. She'd thought from the beginning it looked like someplace a vampire might stash a couple of handy coffins, but it was empty. And as far as she knew, Michael slept on a Serta.
"I meant to ask you. What is this?"
"Root cellar," he said. "This house was built before refrigerators, and ice deliveries were only so-so. This was where they kept most of their vegetables."
"So ... not a vampire hideout?"
Michael stretched his long legs out with a sigh and leaned against the wall. God, he was pretty. No wonder Eve was willing to overlook the lack of pulse. "Not so far as I've ever known, but the vampires in Morganville never really had to hide. Only the humans did."
Which wasn't what they were here to talk about, she supposed. She crossed her arms and felt the bracelet bite into the skin of her wrist under the shirt. "Whatever lecture you were going to give me, it's too late. I signed, it's done, I've got the souvenir bracelet." Which made her suddenly, strangely want to cry. "Michael -- "
"What's she asking you to do?" Which was so right-on that she felt the pressure of tears behind her eyes and in her nose get even higher.
"Um ... " She couldn't tell him, Amelie and Sam had both made it clear. "It's just extra schoolwork. She wants me to study some things."
"What things?" Michael's voice got sharp and worried. "Claire -- "
"It's nothing. Science stuff. I would have probably been doing it anyway, but it's just -- it's a lot more study, and I don't know how I'm going to -- " Keep it from Shane. Because she had to, right? Bad enough he hated Michael for being a vampire, what was he going to think about her, selling herself to Amelie? "I just don't know how I'm going to do all this."
And suddenly, she was crying. She didn't mean to, but there it was, boiling out of her. She expected Michael to do the Shane thing, come and comfort her, but he didn't. He sat right where he was and watched her. When her sobs died down, and she swiped her hands across her wet cheeks, he said, "Finished?"
She gulped and nodded.
"You made the choice, now you want to have it both ways -- the benefits, but not the consequences. You can't, Claire. It's coming home to roost, and you'd better handle it now rather than later." Michael's tone softened, just a little. "Look, I'm not an ass**le, I know how scared you are. But you're a player in this town now. You're not the fragile little thing we took in for protection. You're trying to protect us. That means you may not be as well liked anymore, and you're going to have to sack up about that."
"What?" She felt dazed. Somehow, this wasn't how she'd expected all this to go. Especially Michael's cool, challenging look, and the lack of hugging.
"Signing the contract isn't the last choice you're going to have to make," he said. "It's the choices you make from now on that show whether you did the right thing or not." He stood up, pale and strong and as gorgeous as an angel in the glow of Claire's flashlight. "And stop lying to me. You ought to get off to a better start."
"I -- what?"
"You said what Amelie has you doing is just more studying," he said grimly. "And I can tell when you're lying. No, I'm not going to ask, because I can tell it scares you, but just remember, vampires can tell, all right?"
He swung the door open and ducked out. Claire stared after him, open-mouthed, but by the time she'd scrambled through and switched off the flashlight, Michael was already gone, out of the pantry. Crap. It's going to look like we were ...
What? Who could believe Michael would be snacking on an underage girl in the root cellar?
Still, Claire eased open the pantry door and checked to be sure the coast was clear before she dashed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Michael was sitting on the couch, Eve curled next to him with her head on his chest. They were watching something on TV, and Eve's gaze followed Claire as she hurried past them, mumbling an apology.
She stopped on the stairs and looked back at them. Two people she cared about, wrapped in a moment of warmth and happiness.
Michael was a vampire, and that meant that Michael was dying. Like Myrnin. He was going to suffer and lose his mind and hurt people.
He could even hurt Eve.
Tears pricked at her eyes, and she felt suddenly short of breath. When it had been just an abstract problem, just Morganville minus vampires equals safety, then that had been one thing, but it wasn't abstract. It was people she knew, liked, even loved. She wouldn't shed any tears over Oliver, but how could she not care about Michael? Or Sam? Or even Amelie?
Claire picked up her book bag and went upstairs.
Shane's door was shut. She knocked. He didn't answer for a long moment, and then said, "If I ignore you, will you go away?"
"No," she said.
"Might as well come in, then."
He was flopped on the bed, staring at the ceiling, hands under his head, and he didn't look at her as she entered and closed the door behind her.
"So is this how it's going to go?" she asked. "I do something dumb like stay out late, you get mad and run away, I come and apologize and make everything better?"
Shane, surprised, looked at her, then said, "Well, that kinda works for me, yeah."
Claire thought about Michael, about the suddenly grown-up way he'd treated her. She sat down on the bed next to Shane, staring down at the floor for a few seconds to gather her courage, and then she pulled back her sleeve to expose the bracelet.