Midnight Bites (The Morganville Vampires)(59)

“Don’t even start with all the angst. You need it—I have it. I just need to know you can stop.”

His fangs came out, flipping down like a snake’s, and for a second, I was sure this was a really, really bad idea. Then he said, “Yes. I can stop.”

“You’d better.”

“I . . .” He didn’t seem to know what to say. I was afraid he’d think of something, something good, and I’d chicken right out.

“Just do it,” I whispered. “Before I change my mind, okay?”

Shane was saying something, and it sounded like he wasn’t a fan of my solution, but we were all out of time, and anyway it was too late. Michael took my wrist and, with one slice of his fangs, opened the vein. It didn’t hurt—well, not much—but it felt very weird at first. Then his lips closed softly over my skin, and I got the shivers all over, and it didn’t feel weird at all. Not even the buzzing in my ears, or the waves of dizziness.

“Stop,” I said, after I’d counted to twenty. And he did. Instantly. Without any question.

Michael covered the wound with his thumb and pressed. His eyes faded back to blue, normal and real and human. He licked his lips, making sure every spot of blood was gone, and then said, “It’ll stop bleeding in about a minute.” Then, in a totally different tone, “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Why?” I felt a little weak at the knees, and I wasn’t at all sure it was due to a sudden drop in blood pressure. “Why wouldn’t I? With you?”

He put his arms around me and kissed me. That was a whole different kind of hunger, one I understood way better. Michael backed me up against the car and kissed me like it was the last night on earth, like the sun and stars would burn down before he’d let me go.

The only thing that slowed us down was Shane saying, very clearly, “I am driving off and leaving you here, I swear to God. You’re embarrassing me.”

Michael pulled back just enough that our lips were touching, but not pressed together, and sighed. There was so much in that sound, all his longing and his fear and his need and his frustration. “Sorry,” he said.

I smiled. “For what?”

He was still holding his thumb over the wound on my wrist. “This,” he said, and pressed just a little harder before letting go. It didn’t bleed.

I purred lightly, and nipped at his mouth. “I’m Catwoman,” I reminded him. “And it’s just a scratch.”

Michael opened the car door for me, and handed me in like a lady.

Like his lady.

He got in, shut the door, and slapped the back of Shane’s seat. “Home, driver.”

Shane sent him a one-fingered salute. Next to him, Claire gave me a completely non-ethereal grin and snuggled in close to him as he drove.

Miranda said, dreamily, “One of us is going to be a vampire.”

“One of us already is,” I pointed out. Michael put his arm around me.

“Oh,” she said, and sighed. “Right.”

Except that Miranda never forgot a thing like that.

“Hey,” Michael said, and squeezed my shoulders lightly. “Tomorrow’s tomorrow. Okay?”

“Tonight’s tonight,” I agreed. “And tonight’s good for me.”





MURDERED OUT


One of the hard-to-find exclusive stories written specifically for the U.K. editions (which at the time were being published a month or two after the U.S. releases, meaning that die-hard fans rushed to buy internationally), it was offered as an extra to help the U.K. publisher convince fans there to wait for the local edition, and it seems to have worked!

I didn’t give Shane his own car early on in the series for a variety of reasons, but mostly because it was fun for him to have to ask nicely for rides. The fact that he couldn’t quite earn enough to buy his own said something about Shane’s job-related experiences, too. But finally, at this particular point (after Kiss of Death, before Bite Club), Shane is ready to make the commitment.

I mostly love this story for the small-town details I got to put into it, and the introduction of Rad, the mechanic. Fun factoid: This story was inspired by my getting the rims on my car (a Smart car, which Shane would never drive, but Claire totally would) painted black. The shop salesperson said, “Oh, you mean you’re murdering it out.” I’d never heard the term before, and loved it.





Normal life in Morganville. As far as normal ever was, Shane Collins thought; nobody was overtly rioting, getting arrested, or killing anyone.

Not on this street, anyway.

Being out in the open around dark was not his favorite survival strategy, but even though the Morganville Multiplex Cinema (three whole screens) tried to cram as many morning and afternoon showings in as practical, it wasn’t always possible to avoid getting out later than was healthy for a regular human in Morganville, Texas.

“There’s a reason those twilight shows are cheaper than the others,” he said to Claire Danvers, who was walking with her small hand in his large one, head down. Claire was thinking, but then, she was always thinking. It was part of what he loved about her. “I wish Eve would have come with us. At least then we’d have had wheels.”

“We’ll be all right,” Claire said. She sounded confident about that. He wasn’t, only because he was the guy, and therefore, by his logic, their survival on the way home sort of landed squarely on his shoulders. Claire was his girlfriend. That meant she was his to protect. He knew that if he said that out loud, she’d smack him, and mean it, but it was just how he felt about it.