Midnight Bites (The Morganville Vampires)(26)

“Can you call him?”

“No phones,” he said. “They went dark. I don’t think we’re going to see him again, Eve.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing?” she said. “I mean, maybe out there he can find something else. Something happy that’s not—this.” She meant Morganville, and Michael understood. She knew he did, and their eyes met and held.

“I’d like to believe there’s still something happy here,” he said, and her heart lurched, then sped up. He couldn’t mean that the way she wanted to take it. He couldn’t. And as she obsessed over it, he hurried right on. “Speaking of unhappy things, though, Monica wiggled off the hook. Said she was nowhere near the Collins place when it went up, and got her friends to back her up on it. So if she did it, she’s definitely going to get away with it.”

That made Eve’s blood beat faster in her veins, and she wanted to punch something. Someone. As she stared off into space, she realized she was staring straight at a pink poster with a cartoon heart on it.

She smiled slowly, and pointed. Michael followed her gesture to look at the poster.

“I say we find out what Monica’s got going with this blood drive crap,” she said. “It’s today, right? Maybe we can ruin her day some other way, Michael. Are you in?”

“Are you kidding?” He gave her a smile, a full one, and it was glorious. It was also a little crazy. “I’m all in. Got to look out for each other now, right?”

“Right,” she said, and tried to control the rush of heat that came over her. “Right.”

? ? ?

Signing up for the blood drive was suspiciously easy; there were only about ten names on the list, and four of them had been crossed off. Rude comments were written about the remaining six, which might or might not be valid. Eve boldly scrawled her name and Michael’s at the bottom, just as Gina, Monica’s BFF / attack dog, came up to grab the sheet off the board. She was dressed for a party, not school, but that was the typical look Monica’s gang went for. Always ready for the camera, not so much for the tests.

Well, Eve probably spent as much time at the makeup table, to be fair, but she felt the results were much more valid. And besides, she studied. Occasionally.

“Seriously?” Gina said, and speared Eve with a scorching look. “You’re giving blood? That’s bullshit.”

“I help babies,” Eve said frostily. “And, you know, old people. Who need blood. Like, you know, normal people do, which I suppose doesn’t include you.”

Gina gave her one of her patented bitchy, half-crazy smiles. The glitter in her eyes was more like the light off the edge of a razor than humor. “Normal? That’s hilarious, Necro Girl. I don’t think they take donations from freaky pervs who want to sleep with dead people and probably already have some rank disease.”

Michael stepped up. That was all, just took one simple step forward, and he met Gina’s eyes. The stare held for a few long seconds, but Michael didn’t blink. He seemed so quiet that it made all the hubbub and roar of the normal school hallway seem to fade into absolute silence.

Eve held her breath. Michael didn’t fight; he rarely even got into arguments. But there was something like steel inside of him that just . . . didn’t . . . bend.

Gina’s brittle edge hit it and shattered, and she looked away with a sneer. “Whatever, not my problem. Take it up with the bloodsuckers on board. Who knows? Maybe you’ll never make it out. That would improve our landscape.”

She flounced off with the paper clutched in one hand. Michael watched her go, then took in a slow breath and relaxed.

Eve punched him in the shoulder. “Damn, boy, you scary,” she said. “I had no idea.”

“I live in Morganville,” Michael said, and flashed her a warm, fast grin that just about broke her heart. “Scary comes standard-issue, right?”

He walked off, in the direction Gina had gone, and after pausing to really appreciate that Michael Glass—Michael Glass—had stood up for her, Eve dashed off in his wake.

? ? ?

The Bloodmobile was parked outside in the school lot, and it stood out like a sleek, black-painted shark. The bold red blood drop on the side looked real and fresh, and nauseatingly three-dimensional. For the first time, Eve had the thought that it might be a terrible idea to go inside there voluntarily. Legend said that sometimes people didn’t come out.

Maybe it ate them.

She caught up to Michael at the rickety metal steps just as he was reaching for the handle of the door. “Michael . . .”

He knew where she was coming from; she could tell from the smile he gave her. “We’re okay,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather do something than just—pretend. I’m doing this for Shane.”

For Shane. Eve took in a deep breath and nodded. She hoped it looked resolute.

Then they were inside the dark belly of the beast.

Which was . . . surprisingly well lit, and filled with plush donation chairs that looked more like fancy recliners than terrifying instruments of torture . . . though the built-in restraints looked less than reassuring.

All the couches were empty, and there were two attendants standing quietly, watching as Eve hesitantly walked down the narrow aisle. “Um, hi?” she said. “I’m on the list?” There was no way she could manage to make that a declarative statement. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I mean, I hear it’s for a good cause; is that right?”