"Jacob and I are outnumbered," Patience said softly. "I am sorry, but there is little we can do more than we are doing now. Forgive me."
"There has to be something--" Claire bit her lip. Eve was paying attention now, and Shane, although Claire was trying to keep the whole conversation to a whisper. "Can't you maybe let us loose? We promise, we won't tell Morley."
"Child, you have no idea what you're saying," Patience said, a little sadly. "He'll catch you, and then Morley will find out what he wants to find out. He has no reason not to rip this information from you, and it would be suspicious enough that I haven't drawn blood. He already thinks Jacob and I are too weak. You put us at risk, as well as yourselves."
"So what's our choice?" Eve hissed, leaning over as far as she could. "Getting fanged to death? No, thank you. Pass. If I'd wanted that kind of gruesome, horrible horror-movie ending, I could have stood on a street corner in Morganville and saved myself the trouble!" Patience looked even more uncomfortable. "I can't help you," she said again. "I'm sorry." That was her final answer, apparently. Claire watched her continue on with her blood work, apparently satisfied that she'd done her good deed for the day. "We're screwed," Shane said, in a matter-of-fact voice, and turned back, face forward. "Still want to go back to Morganville? Because every day is pretty much just like this, one way or another." Eve sighed, slumped against the window, and looked as if she was close, again, to bursting into tears. She didn't. Claire almost wished she would. It wasn't like Eve, all this nervous anger. It made her nervous, and the last thing she needed right now was more to raise her pulse rate. "Michael will find us," Eve said. "They'll come for us." Claire wished she felt that sure about it.
Patience and Jacob distributed all of the collected blood, two vials per vampire, and gave the rest to Morley, who chugged it back like shots at happy hour. It was disgusting, watching all the vampires having their snack; Claire's stomach turned, and she found it was easier staring down at her feet than actually paying attention. Some of the blood donors had actually passed out, though whether that was just sleep, low blood pressure, or panic, Claire wasn't sure. It was quieter, at least. Morley kept driving, and it seemed like hours before he slowed the bus again. He didn't stop, just geared down and beckoned to a vampire sitting behind him. The vampire nodded, pointed to three others, and gestured for them to follow. "What's going on?" Shane asked. "Can you tell?"
"No," Claire said, and then gasped as Morley opened the bus doors. The bus was still rolling along at maybe thirty-five or forty miles an hour. The four vampires up front put on coats, hats, gloves-sunny-day wear--and lined up on the stairs. One by one, they bailed out. "What the hell?" Shane twisted around awkwardly to the limit of his ability. "Eve, can you see anything? What's going on?"
"I can't--wait, I think--" Eve squinted, leaned her head against the window, and finally continued. "I think they're going after something behind us. A car, maybe." Four vampires had just bailed out of a moving bus, in broad daylight, to attack a car that was behind them. Following them? Claire gasped as an electric shock zipped up her spine. Michael. Oliver. It had to be! They'd figured it out. They were right behind them. Yeah, her tragic, pessimistic little voice said in her head. They're right behind us, and four vampires are about to drag them out of the car and leave them to fry. "Can you see--" Claire's voice was shaking now. Eve didn't answer. "Eve!"
"I'm trying!" Eve snapped. "It's all just shadows out there, okay? I can barely tell there's a car! Oh no ..."
"What?" She and Shane blurted it out together, leaning toward Eve as if somehow they could make things out any better. "The car," Eve said. "I think--I think it crashed. It's not behind us now." She sounded dull again; defeated. "It's gone."
"Dammit," Shane said. "Probably was some farmer driving to market. Didn't have anything to do with all this crap."
"Doesn't matter now," Eve whispered. "They're not coming now." She began to cry, producing wrenching sobs that made her whole body vibrate, and banged her forehead against the window glass--hard. Claire instinctively tried to reach out for her, and came up against her restraints, again. "Hey," she said, trying hard to sound compassionate and soothing. Her heart just ached for Eve, who sounded so ... lost. "Eve, please don't. Please don't do that. It's going to be okay; it's all--"
"No, it's not!" Eve screamed, and turned toward Claire in a tearful fury. "It's not okay! Michael! Michael!" She started thrashing against her restraints. Shane tried to calm her down, too, but Eve wasn't listening anymore--not to anybody. Patience came and, with a sad but determined look at Claire, leaned over and gave Eve a quick injection in her shoulder. It was so fast Claire couldn't react to try to stop her, and Eve stopped thrashing to say, in blank surprise, "Ow!" Then her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went completely limp in her chair, her head tilting toward the window, wild strands of hair covering her face. "What did you do?" Claire demanded, and tried not to scream it. She'd just seen what screaming got you. "She'll sleep," Patience said. "She's not injured. It's better this way. She could hurt herself, otherwise."
"Yeah, can't have that," Shane said bitterly. "Gotta save that for you guys. What was that, with the vamps getting off the bus?" Patience put the cap back on the needle she'd used to inject Eve and put it in her pocket. "Someone was following," she said. "They're not now. That's all you need to know." The bus changed its pitch again, air brakes sighing, and slowed to a relative crawl. The doors banged open again, and two vampires got on, wearing hats and gloves and long coats against the sun. One of them was smoking, even with all the protective gear. The other one, a little taller and thinner, grabbed Morley by the neck, dragged him out of the driver's seat, and tossed him right out the door. "Go!" he shouted, and stripped off his hat. The tall one was Oliver. Michael--who was the incoming vampire trailing wisps of smoke--raced down the aisle, slammed into Patience and Jacob, and knocked them out of the way. Nobody else had time to stand up, although a few vampires lunged and caught pieces of his coat as he ran toward the back of the bus. Oliver was right behind him, and as they reached the rows where the humans were, Oliver turned and snarled at the other vampires, who were starting to get to their feet.