by Rachel Caine
The sheriff looked dazed, and there was blood on the side of his head, but he held his gun very steady. “Get down, mister,” he said. “Don’t make me shoot you again.”
Morley slowly toppled forward, face-forward, on the floor. The sheriff breathed a sigh of relief and gestured for Eve and Claire to come out. Claire did, jumping over Morley’s outstretched hand and expecting that any second, any second at all, he’d reach up and grab her, just like in the movies.
He didn’t. Eve hesitated for a few seconds, then jumped for it, clearing Morley by at least a couple of feet, straight up. The sheriff grabbed them and hustled them off to the side, then unlocked Shane’s cell. “Out,” he said. “Help me get him inside.”
“It won’t do any good to lock him up,” Shane said. “He already ripped off two of your doors. You want him to go for three?”
The sheriff had clearly been trying not to think about that. “What the hell are these people?” he snarled. “Some kind of damn monsters?”
“Some kind of,” Shane said. He’d put his hands on Claire, and now he wrapped his arms around her, and after a second, included Eve in the hug, too. “Thanks. I know you don’t believe us, but we’re not the bad guys here.”
“I’m starting to think you might be right about that.”
“What gave you your first clue? The fangs, or the door ripping?” Shane didn’t wait for an answer. “He’s not dead. He’s playing with you.”
“What?”
“You can’t kill him with that thing,” Eve said. “Can’t even slow him down, really.”
The sheriff whirled to stare at Morley, who was still facedown on the floor. He aimed his gun at the body again and kept it there.
Morley didn’t move.
“No, he’s down,” the sheriff said, and walked over to press fingers to Morley’s dirty neck. He yanked his hand away quickly, stumbling back. “He’s cold.”
Morley laughed, rolled over, and sat up, doing his very best risen-from-the-grave imitation. It helped that he was filthy and looked kind of crazy scary.
The sheriff backed away, far away, all the way to the wall, then aimed his gun at Morley and pulled the trigger, again.
Morley brushed his clothes lightly, dismissing the bullet even before the echoes from the shockingly loud gunshot stopped ringing in Claire’s ears. “Please,” he said, and practically levitated to his feet. He reached out and took the sheriff’s gun from him, then tossed it in the corner of the cell where Eve and Claire had been kept. “I hate loud noises. Unless it’s screaming. Screaming’s all right. Let me demonstrate.”
He reached out and grabbed the sheriff around the neck.
Something pale and very fast flashed through the doorway, and suddenly another vampire was there—Patience Goldman, with her slender hand wrapped around Morley’s wrist. She was a dark-haired young woman, pretty, with big dark eyes and skin that would have probably been olive had she still been alive. It added a honey undertone to her pallor.
“No,” Patience said. Claire had met her—and the entire Goldman family—more than once. She liked them, actually. For vampires, they had real concern for other people-as demonstrated by Patience’s trying to keep Morley from killing the sheriff. “There’s no need for this.”
Morley looked offended, and shoved her back with his free hand. “Do not lay hands on me, woman! This is none of your concern.”
“We came to—get supplies,” Patience said. She seemed uncomfortable with that, and Claire immediately realized that supplies was code for people-to eat. “We have what we need. Let’s go. The longer we delay, the more attention we attract. It’s unnecessary risk!”
Patience and Jacob, her brother, had been hanging out with Morley for a while, and they’d wanted to break out of Morganville, and their parents’ restrictions—Theo Goldman was a good guy, but kind of strict, as far as his family went, or at least that had been Claire’s impression. Claire could easily believe that Morley had convinced Patience and Jacob to come along, since he was leaving, anyway, but she also didn’t believe they’d go along with killing people.
Not unnecessarily, anyway. Vampires in general were a little shaky on the details of morality in that area—a hazard of being top predator, Claire guessed.
“Hmmm,” Morley said, and turned his gaze back to the sheriff. “She does have a point. Fortunately for you.” He released the man, who slammed back against the wall, looking sick and shaky. “Stay. If you move, speak, or in any way irritate me, I’ll snap your neck.”
The sheriff froze in place, clearly taking it all very seriously. Claire didn’t really blame him. She remembered her first encounter with vampires, her first realization that the world wasn’t the neatly ordered place she’d always been told it was. It could really mess up your head.
In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure hers had ever recovered, come to think of it.
She was just starting to relax when Morley reached out and grabbed her and Eve by the arms. When Shane yelled a protest, Morley squeezed, and Claire felt agony shoot in a white bolt up her arm. Yeah, that was almost broken.
“Don’t cause a fuss, boy, or I’ll be forced to shatter bones,” Morley said. “The girls come with us. If you want to run, you may. I won’t stop you.”
Like Shane would. Or even could, being Shane. He fixed Morley with a bleak, grim stare and said, “You take them, I’m coming, too.”
“How gentlemanly of you,” Morley said, smiling. “I believe I already told you how I feel about gentlemen. But suit yourself.”
He hustled Claire and Eve out into the open room that was the police bullpen. Desks had been shoved around, papers littered the floor, and Deputy Tom was lying half hidden behind one of the chairs. Claire was glad she couldn’t really see him. She hoped he was just... knocked out.
Somehow, though, she really didn’t think so.
Shane followed behind Morley. Patience walked next to him, but she didn’t try to touch him—which was probably smart, given the fiery look in Shane’s eyes. His muscles were tight, his hands bunched into fists, and the only thing holding him back from punching Morley was the certain knowledge that it would be Claire and Eve who’d get hurt.
Morley shoved open the glass outer door with a booted foot, and glanced up at the blazing sun. “Quickly, if you please,” he said, and dragged Eve and Claire across the open ground at a stumbling run to an idling bus.
It was an old passenger bus, with darkened windows, and the next thing she knew, Claire was being shoved up the steep, narrow steps ahead of Morley, with Eve being dragged along behind him. It was dark inside, with only a few overhead reading lights on to show her the interior. There were worn, fraying velvet seats, and in almost every one sat a vampire, at least in the front two-thirds of the bus.
In the back were mostly humans—tied up, gagged, and looking desperate. There were no Morganville residents, at least that Claire could spot offhand, but she saw two immediately familiar faces—Orange Cap and Angry Guy, from the diner, who’d trashed Eve’s car. The sheriff had said they’d disappeared; she’d assumed they were dead, like their friend who’d been left with his pickup truck.
Morley had grabbed them. Claire thought that the other one, the one who’d died, had been more of an accident than deliberate murder, although maybe he’d done something to make Morley angry, too. There was no way to tell, really.
The two bullies weren’t looking quite so in control now. Their eyes were wide, their noses were running, and they kept wrestling against the ties that held them in place.
“Friends of yours?” Morley asked, seeing her expression. “I’ll see if I can seat you in the same section. Aisle or window?” He shoved Eve into a seat next to a window, across from Orange Cap, and then slung Claire into the empty chair beside her, on the aisle. Then he turned to Shane.
Shane sat down silently in the chair in front of Claire. Patience, watching this, bit her lip and shook her head, but when Morley snapped the orders, she broke out some plastic cable ties an
d fastened Claire and Eve to the seats, then turned to Shane.
“I’m sorry for this,” she said softly. “You should have gone. Gotten help. I would have made sure no harm came to them.”
“I don’t trust their lives to anybody but me,” he said. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Patience said with a sigh. “But Morley will require you to provide blood. He’s promised not to drain any of our captives, but I’m sure you understand his temper. Resistance would not be wise.”
Shane shuddered and looked away. He didn’t like giving blood, even at the Bloodmobile or the blood bank, and that was a lot more removed from having a vampire taking it, no matter whether they used medical equipment or went the old-fashioned way. Claire wasn’t too cool with it herself, and she knew Eve well enough to know she’d fight it, hard.
“Let us go,” Claire blurted. Morley had wandered away toward the front of the bus now, talking to someone else, and Patience was leaning over her, checking her bonds, which were very tight. “Patience, please. You know this isn’t right. Just let us go.”
“I can’t do that.”
“But—”
“I can’t,” Patience said, with soft but unyielding emphasis. “Please don’t ask again.”
She straightened and walked away without another glance, leaving them in the back, pinned like the other UnHappy Meals. At least she hadn’t gagged them. Claire supposed she would, if they started screaming. Note to self: don’t scream. Good advice.
Shane twisted around in his seat to peer at her over the top of the seat. “Hey,” he whispered. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Eve?”
Eve was fuming, her cheeks bright, her eyes hot with fury. “Fine,” she snapped, biting off the word and leaving a sharp, broken silence. After a second, she softened a little. “Pissed off. Really pissed off. What kind of stupid trip is this? So far, I’ve been assaulted, insulted, arrested, and now I’m tied to a chair by a bunch of vampires in case they crave a little O negative at lunch. And my boyfriend is out there somewhere, dodging sunbeams. This sucks! ”
“Ah—” Claire didn’t quite know how to answer that. She looked at Shane, who shrugged. “He’ll be okay.”
“I know,” Eve said with a sigh. “I’m just—I need him right now, you know? Shane was all gallant and came with you. I feel... abandoned, that’s all.”
“You’re not abandoned,” Shane said. “Dude, don’t bag on Michael. It’s a whole different problem when you’re flammable.”
Eve turned her face away, toward the window, and said, “I know. I’m just—Gah, seriously, I hate being helpless! We have to do something,” she said. “We have to get out of this.”
But, as Morley dropped into the driver’s seat of the bus, slammed the doors closed, and put the beast in gear, Claire wasn’t at all sure what options they really had. Morley wasn’t interested in bargains, and they had nothing to trade, anyway. No way they could threaten him, not even with Amelie; he’d already given Amelie the finger on his way out of Morganville, and he clearly wasn’t worried about her coming after him—or, if so, what would happen when she did. Claire didn’t have anything else in her bag of tricks; nothing at all.
“Wait it out,” Shane said, as though he knew what she was thinking—and he probably did, actually. He was starting to get really good at that. “Just wait and watch. Something will happen. We just need to be ready to move when it does.”
“Fantastic,” Eve muttered sourly. “Waiting. My favorite. Next to skinny-dipping in acid and having vampires suck my blood. ”
“Sorry,” Shane said to Claire.
“For what?”
“That you’re sitting next to Little Miss Sunshine. It’s not going to be a fun trip.”
He was right about that. It wasn’t.
8
Eve mostly sat in silence, but she was just crackling with anger. Claire could feel it coming off her like static electricity. She wasn’t cooling off anytime soon, either; Claire thought she was being angry to keep from being scared, which wasn’t a bad choice. Being scared under these circumstances wasn’t going to get them anywhere. It certainly hadn’t helped Orange Cap and Angry Guy much, or the five other people Claire could spot who were bound and gagged, waiting for a vamp to get hungry.
She saw it happen once, but in the medically approved way; Jacob Goldman—Patience’s vampire brother, and under other circumstances kind of an okay guy—had fixed somebody up with a tourniquet and drawn out about ten tubes of blood from one of the men sitting two rows up. He was good at it. Theo, his dad and a doctor, had probably taught him how to do it. She supposed there was one advantage to having a vampire draw your blood—he wasn’t likely to miss a vein and have to try again.
Jacob looked unhappy about what he was doing, and at the end, even patted his victim on the shoulder in a gentle, reassuring way. Claire half expected him to hand over a lollipop-although since the man was gagged, that probably wouldn’t make much sense.
“Not happening,” Eve whispered next to her. “No, not happening. This cannot be happening. Where the hell is Oliver? Isn’t he supposed to be our chaperone?”
Claire didn’t know and couldn’t begin to reassure Eve, because there was a creeping sense of doom coming over her, too. Michael wasn’t showing up, and neither was Oliver, and that had to be bad. It just had to be, somehow. Oliver, at least, could stand the sun; she’d seen him outside the jail before Morley had made his dramatic entrance. So why wasn’t he stepping in?
Because you’re not important, Claire’s little, traitorous voice whispered. Because you’re just human. Fast food on legs.
No, that wasn’t true. Even Oliver had treated them—well, not exactly nicely, but he had developed a kind of basic respect for them. Maybe, in Eve’s case, even a little liking.
He wouldn’t just stand by and watch things happen.
Unless he thought he couldn’t win, the little voice responded, and ugh, the little voice was way too logical for Claire to argue with. Oliver wasn’t the self-sacrificing type, except maybe—maybe—where it applied to Amelie—and only in little glimpses.
But Michael was, and Michael would have shown up unless something had stopped him.
Or someone.
Claire cleared her throat. “Jacob? Can I ask you something?”
Jacob slipped the blood vials into a pocket of his jacket and came back down the aisle of the bus. He swayed gracefully with the motion of the road, not even bothering to check his balance against the tops of the seats, the way a human probably would have. He crouched down next to Claire, bringing them to eye level.
“I’m so sorry,” he said immediately. “This was not what we’d planned. We never intended to do it this way, but we couldn’t get to either the blood bank or the Bloodmobile—they were both well guarded. We had to choose—leave without supplies, or ...”
“Or pick them up at the convenience store?” Claire tried to keep the judgy tone out of her voice, but it was hard. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
Jacob nodded, waiting.
“Have you seen Michael?”
Jacob’s eyes widened. “No,” he said, and he was an even worse liar than Claire expected. “No, did he come with you?”
“Jacob, you know he did.” Claire said it softly, and hoped that Eve couldn’t hear what she was saying. “Did something happen to him?”
Jacob stared at her for a few long, sick seconds, then said, “I don’t know.”
He stood up and walked away. Claire bit her tongue on an almost-overpowering urge to yell something after him; it probably would have just gotten her gagged, anyway.
Shane was turned in his seat, as much as his bonds would allow, and he was staring at her. He knew, too.
Claire risked a glance over at Eve, but she was staring out the window. Not crying, not anymore. She just looked... distant, as if she’d removed herself from everything happening around her.
Shane was right. There was nothing to be done now exc
ept wait.
Claire was bad at it, but she spent the time trying to think through the problem. What would Myrnin do? Probably invent some device made out of fingernails and coat threads that would cut through plastic handcuffs. Then again, Myrnin would be cheerfully chugging down the blood, so maybe he was not such a good example to follow. Sam. What would Michael’s grandfather have done? Still a vampire, but he’d never have gone along with this stuff. He’d have stood up for people. He had his whole life, both as a human and a vampire.
And he’d have never been handcuffed to a seat, genius, Claire’s little voice reminded her. How about Hannah Moses? That was a good suggestion, for once. Claire couldn’t imagine how Hannah, who’d been a big-time soldier, would have gotten out of this, but it probably would have involved a concealed knife—which, of course, Claire didn’t have.
The steady throb of the road was hypnotic, and since the windows were blacked out, there wasn’t much to see out there except some passing shadows. The vampires were mostly whispering among themselves, and she could feel their suppressed excitement. It was strange, but the vampires seemed to feel they’d been prisoners in Morganville, too—mostly prisoners of its strict rules of conduct, but Claire knew they hadn’t been allowed out of town freely any more than the human residents.
It was odd that the vampires would now be feeling that same freedom that she, Eve, Michael, and Shane had felt leaving the town borders. It seemed ... wrong.
“Eve?” Claire tried bumping Eve’s shoulder with her own. She did it often enough to finally pull Eve out of her staring trance and get her attention. “Hey. How you doing?”
“Fantastic,” Eve said. “Adventure of a lifetime.” She dropped her head back against the seat’s built-in pillow and closed her eyes. “Wake me for the massacre, okay? Don’t want to miss it.”
Claire had no idea what to say to that, so she just settled her own head back, closing her eyes, too. The road hiss became a kind of white noise in her head, and then ...
She was asleep.
When she woke up, the bus was pulling to a stop. Claire flinched, tried to lift her arms, and immediately was reminded that plastic handcuffs hurt as they cut into her skin. She took a deep breath and relaxed, deliberately, looking around. Eve was awake, too, her dark eyes narrow and glittering in the dimness. In the row ahead, Claire could see the back of Shane’s head as he tried to make sense of whatever was outside the window.