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"Then make her listen to you. You're one of her oldest friends!"
"Friends count for little when they cross lovers," he said. "You're old enough to know that. And it is why I can't-" He shook his head. "Why I can't stay."
She felt she would choke on tears, suddenly. He stepped forward and took both her hands in his cool ones. For a moment, she thought he intended to kiss her, and for a panicked moment she wasn't sure if she ought to stop him, wanted to stop him...but then he just touched his forehead to hers and held it there.
"Hush, now," he said, and there was so much sweetness in his voice. "I don't want to see you cry. I'm nothing to cry over."
"I don't want you to go."
He pulled back, still close, very close, too close. There was a faint crimson flicker deep in his eyes, like a distant thunderstorm. "Take care," he said. "Promise me."
"I wil ," she said. "Myrnin-"
He kissed her. It was so fast that she couldn't move to prevent it, even if she'd wanted to; it was also quick, and light, and cool, and then...
Then he was gone.
Claire leaned out the window and saw him scrambling in a blur down the tree. He jumped the last ten feet, landed smoothly on his white patent leather shoes, and looked up at her in silence, then held up a pale, long-fingered hand.
She held hers up in response. Tears blurred her view of him, before they broke free of her eyes and rolled hot down her cheeks.
When she blinked, the yard was empty, except for the broken branch he'd been standing on when she'd first spotted him.
Claire gulped in several deep, cold breaths of night air, then slammed the window shut and sat down on her bed. She felt...She didn't know how she felt. Just wrong. She wanted to talk, but she couldn't to Shane, not about this; he wouldn't understand, not about this.
Eve. Maybe she could talk to Eve.... But she could hear the shouting from downstairs, and Eve's voice was gleefully announcing her victory over Shane in the game. Upstairs felt like a whole world away from that.
Claire stretched out on her bed, closed her eyes, almost il with how wrong that had been, how guilty she was about that whole conversation. But she'd needed to have it with him; she knew that.
She flinched and bolted upright at a knock on the door, both arms instinctively crossing over her chest. "Who is it?"
"What do you mean, who is it?" Shane eased the door open and studied her. Oh. Of course, that was Shane's knock; she knew it very well.
"What's up? You all right? You look scared."
She felt a surge of feeling so fierce that it burned in her cheeks and made her stomach churn, and for a second she didn't even know what it was, until her brain kicked back in.
It was shame.
"No," she said, and her voice sounded shaky. "No, I just-I had a dream. A bad one." Liar.
He gave her a grin that made the shame bite deeper, then sank down on the bed next to her. "Shouldn't have come up here and gone to sleep, then. Come on, sleepyhead. It's too early for you to crash out."
He kissed her, and he felt warm and sweet and strong and most of all, alive...and she fel into it eagerly, almost desperately. The kiss went on, and on, damp and slow, like something perfect in a dream, and she pressed close and into his arms, and allthe storm inside her turned into peace, a peace so strong she could feel it glowing in her blood. She sighed onto his lips, into his mouth, and he was smiling, his hair brushing gently over her face like a ghost's caress.
"You make me happy," she whispered. She meant it literally-he'd just led her out of a strange, dark place and into sunlight, and the relief was so great that she felt tears in her eyes. "So happy."
Shane pulled back and looked at her with an expression of absolute focus. His smile was blinding. "I was about to tellyou the same thing," he said, and brushed his fingers over her face. "Cheater."
For an awful second she thought he knew about Myrnin, standing here in her room, but then with a wave of icy relief she realized he was talking about her beating him to the punch. She gave him a shaky smile. "Got to be quick."
"Oh," he said, and kissed her very lightly, moving his lips down her throat, "I really don't think I do."
She laughed, because the joy just became a pinpoint of light inside her, bright and searing, and she rolled him over and sprawled on top of him and kissed him again, and again, and again, until everything was a burst of brightness, everywhere in the world.
And when it faded, when it was dark and quiet again, she listened to the strong, fast beat of his heart with her head on his chest, and thought, I'm sorry. She wasn't even sure what she was apologizing for, or even to whom it was directed. Myrnin? Herself? Shane? Maybe she'd let them all down, somehow.
But not again.
Never again.
Shane fel asleep next to her, out like a light, but Claire found herself humming with energy and too restless to try to close her eyes. She went out into the quiet hal way, closed the door, and sank down against the wal , turning her phone over and over in her hands. Might as well, she thought. It was late, but her parents were used to that, and they were always going on about how she didn't cal enough.
Claire dialed before she could think better of it. Her mom answered on the second ring, her tone anxious. "Claire? Are you all right, honey?"
"Fine," Claire said. She felt a deep surge of guilt, because what did it say about her that her mom assumed she was in deep trouble every time she bothered to cal ? "Sorry I haven't been to see you lately. How's Dad? Is he doing all right?"
"Your dad's fine," her mom said firmly. "Except he worries about you, and so do I. He was hoping you could come home and visit soon. Any chance of that? If you want to bring your boyfriend, I suppose that's okay." She didn't sound so very enthused about that. It wasn't that she and Dad disapproved of Shane, exactly, but they were...cautious. Very cautious.
"I might do that," Claire said. "So, are you still doing that book club thing?"
"Oh yes; I just read the best mystery novel, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Maybe you've heard of it...?"
"Yes, Mom, I've heard of it. And there are movies."
"I didn't think there were any theaters in Morganville."
"There are a couple," Claire said. "But I watched it as a rental. You should do that."
"Oh, I have to do it over the Internet now; it seems so complicated."
"It's not. I could show you-"
"You know me and technology, sweetie. So, how's school?"
"Fine," Claire said. She knew she ought to say something more, something important, but she couldn't seem to come up with anything much. My vampire boss, who would like to maybe be my boyfriend, just dropped in to tell me he was running away because Morganville's too dangerous.
That was a lot to dump on an unsuspecting parent, on so many levels. "Thanks for the lovely birthday gift." It had really been lovely-Claire had been expecting an out-of-fashion dress or a gift card or something, but instead she'd gotten a hand-bound book that had pictures of her from babyhood on, with space to add more. She'd already put in some photos of her and her friends, and her and Shane. Suddenly it reminded her that she'd never taken a picture of Myrnin...and now maybe she never would.
"That's a relief. You know, I think you work too hard at those classes. We'd be so happy to see you, honey. Do you think you might be able to come out this weekend?" Claire's parents lived only a few towns away, in a house that they wouldn't have been able to afford except that Morganville's Founder had bought it for them, in a fit of conscience over their daughter's contributions to vampire survival. Her parents had also once understood about the vampires, but not anymore. Those memories had faded almost to nothing-a deliberate action by the vamps, or by Amelie in particular. And that was okay. Claire preferred it that way-she liked them thinking she was in a safe place, with people who loved her. It was half true, anyway-the second half.
"Maybe I can try," she said. If Myrnin was right, she might not have much choice in getting out of town soon. "Mom-I know you were disappointed at me about not going to MIT when they cal ed me, but..."
"I trust you, sweetie. I was just afraid you'd made that decision because of-wel , because of Shane. If you really made it because you weren't ready to go, then that's all right. I want you to do things the way that's most comfortable for you. Your dad agrees." There was an indistinct mumble in the background that might have been her dad agreeing, but more likely it was just the opposite, and Claire smiled.
