Midnight Bites (The Morganville Vampires)(68)

Shane stood up and walked away, arms folded. He was aching inside now, angry at them for putting him in this position, angry at Michael for . . . for whatever. If you weren’t a bloodsucking leech, this would never have happened. Not that Michael had asked for it, in the beginning, anyway. He’d been a casualty of war, even at the start.

Even if Michael forgave him for this, Eve never would; Shane just knew that. When it came to Michael, Eve held a grudge like nobody he’d ever seen. And how the hell was he going to explain any of this to Claire? He couldn’t tell her about Bishop. No way.

Save his life.

Shane put his sunglasses back on, turned around, and said, “What do you want me to do?”

? ? ?

Following a vampire around was not as easy as it sounded. For one thing, Michael had wheels—a Morganville-issued sedan, with blacked-out windows. The transportation Shane could get was all too obvious—Eve’s big black boat of a car, with tail fins, or the murdered-out black Charger he was making payments on with Rad, down at the repair shop. But there was a way to do it.

Rad had motorcycles. Lots of them. Most of them were way too flashy—chrome, bright paint, all that stuff. No good for staying anonymous.

“How about this one?” Shane asked, pointing to a dark blue Honda. “That’d probably do.”

“Pretty drab,” Rad—Radovic—said. “I could maybe put some paint on it if you want.” Rad didn’t feel that any of his rides were worth much unless they were memorable, which was kind of funny; he didn’t have to work to make people remember him. Rad was a big, tough guy, all muscles. He was one of the few Shane would back off from in a fight, because when Rad swung a punch, it broke things. “How long you need it for?”

“I don’t know,” Shane said. “Hopefully just tonight.”

“Twenty-five dollars a day,” Rad said. “Friends’ rate. I won’t ask you if you have a motorcycle license. You don’t, that’s your problem.”

Shane didn’t think Hannah was going to quibble about some paperwork, not right now. He nodded. “I need a helmet. Something that covers my face.”

Rad nodded. “No problem. You want maybe night vision?”

“What?”

“My own invention,” Rad said proudly. “Night vision built into helmet. Very handy for Morganville. You want?”

“How much?”

“Oh, another twenty-five dollars a night for the helmet.”

“You’re killing me.”

Rad shrugged. “Cheap if you can see trouble coming out there. Right?”

Well, Shane really couldn’t argue with that. He finally nodded and shelled out fifty from the cash he’d won off the college boys. It was a good value, in Morganville, no question about it.

“You want two?” Rad’s lips split in a wide, blinding grin. He had big, square teeth that could have done work in a toothpaste commercial. “One for the girlfriend, eh?”

“Just one,” Shane said. “I’m on my own tonight.”

As a precaution, Shane parked the bike behind the garage, in the deepest shadows he could find. He’d gotten to know it on the way home, and it was a sweet little ride, not as loud as a lot of motorcycles. That would help, probably. But the important thing wasn’t to keep Michael from seeing the bike following him, just that he didn’t know it was Shane.

At least, that was Shane’s best idea.

When he came in the kitchen, Claire was already there, looking in the refrigerator. She was wearing the same clothes she’d had on yesterday, which meant she’d just gotten back from the lab, and when he started toward her, she held up her hands, looking miserable. “I smell,” she said. “No, I’m wrong—I stink. I can’t smell it, but I can feel it. I don’t want you to smell me right now.”

“I love how you smell,” he said. “Besides, I didn’t take a shower this morning, either. My bad.”

She considered that, catching that cute lower lip between her teeth in a way that made him tingle, and then nodded and stepped into his embrace. God, she felt good—small and fragile and warm, soft in all the right places. Her lips were hot and sweet under his, and for a few seconds, at least, he felt all the way better. Kissing Claire did that to him.

He kissed her a second time, lightly, and asked, “Did you eat anything today?”

“I think I had a graham cracker yesterday,” she said, and yawned. “I think I’m too tired to eat, though.” When she turned her head, he saw the shadow of bite marks on her neck—scars, not fresh. She was growing her hair longer to cover them up. “Where’s everybody else?”

“Michael’s at the music store. He had a late lesson. Should be back soon. Eve—” Right on cue, the front door banged open. “That’d be Eve.”

“Yo, losers, where’s my dinner?” Eve yelled.

“Yo, Gothic Princess, your name is on the kitchen duty list today!”

“Is not!”

Shane rolled his eyes. Claire was smiling. “I’ll help,” she said, and started pulling stuff out.

“Not your turn,” Eve said, breezing into the kitchen. “You don’t have to, Claire.”

“I know, but I’m hungry. I think. Maybe.” Claire frowned doubtfully at some leftovers. “Is this any good?”