Ghost Town

“Just do me a favor and leave, Monica. I don’t need the aggravation right now.” When Shane wanted to be, he could be blunt and kind of mean, and Claire actually felt a twinge of sympathy for the way Monica’s smile collapsed.

“Jeez, I was just trying to be nice, Collins,” Monica said. “You don’t have to be such a toe rag all the time. You’re not that cute, you know. I can do better. Lots better.”

She flounced off. Literally flounced, with her hair bouncing. So odd.

Shane said, finally, “Did that remind anybody else of something?”

“Yes,” Eve said, tapping her lower lip with a bloodred fingernail. “How much I need to shave her head while she’s sleeping.”

“That’s not what I meant. Mike?”

“School,” Michael said instantly. “That’s what she was like in school when she was coming on to you.”

“Speaking of school . . .” Eve said. “What the hell was this about the closet makeout session?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you seriously tongue-wrestle Monica in the—”

“Eve, shut up.”

“No, seriously, I have to know this. Were you high? Because that is honestly the only excuse I can think of.”

“It wasn’t my fault. She grabbed me and pulled me in.” Shane got that flush in his cheeks again. “Once. It was once. And I told her to fuck off the next day.” Shane’s eyes widened, and Claire saw his expression change. “The next day. That was the day she . . . the day she told me she’d make me sorry.”

“Oh, man,” Michael said. “It was only a couple of weeks before—”

Shane shut his eyes again. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

Even Eve let that one go, because what was going unsaid was that two weeks later, the fire had started at Shane’s house, and Monica had been to blame. Maybe.

And Shane’s sister had died.

“She didn’t even look at me,” Claire said. “She always looks at me.”

“What?” Michael asked, distracted.

“Monica. She never lets a chance go by to say something rude to me. But she didn’t. It was like she didn’t even know I existed.”

That was why Monica had ignored her, Claire realized. She wasn’t her enemy. She didn’t even know her. Monica was mentally back in . . . What had it been, tenth grade? Before Shane’s house had burned, and his family had left town.

Monica thought they were all still in high school.

“Creepy,” Claire said.

Shane swallowed. “You have no idea. Monica used to follow me everywhere. Send me porn notes and texts. She told people she was my girlfriend. She beat up any girl I talked to. It was miserable.”

Wow. Monica had been Shane’s stalker. That put a whole different light on things. “How long did that go on?”

“I guess about three months, maybe. Michael?”

“Yeah, that sounds right. It was after she decided I was off-limits.” He shook his head when Claire opened her mouth. “Don’t ask. She was a serial stalker. Worked her way through most of the jocks, but I don’t know why she picked on the two of us.”

“Well, how about you’re adorably cute and talented?” Eve said. “I crushed all over you, too. Not you, Collins. You, Glass.”

The doctor came in around then, and expelled them while Shane got stitches. Claire was happy enough to miss that part. Stitches were painful; she knew that from experience.

Monica and Gina were sipping cans of cola from straws and giggling while they checked out the butts on the interns and doctors. It was so . . . not them. And yet, it was, at the same time. Monica kept looking toward the curtain that hid Shane from view with hungry, fascinated eyes, and that made Claire feel hot and furious and filthy.

Monica still thought Shane was interested in her. All evidence to the contrary.

“This isn’t right,” Michael said, looking around. “It just doesn’t feel right. You know? It’s like everything’s just . . . out of tune. I don’t know if you feel it the way I do. Vampires sense things differently.”

“That may be why some get violent,” Claire said. “We have to fix it. Somehow. It can only get worse.”

“Well, you can’t go back to Myrnin. Not after—”

“Michael, I have to! This thing comes and goes, right? People snap out of it. He’ll come back, and when he does I have to be there and find out what to do.” She took a deep breath. “Or, like Shane said, we have to pull the plug. That’s the only other solution.”

“Nuke the site from orbit,” Eve said. “It’s the only way to be sure.”

“Do not quote Aliens at me; I’m freaked-out enough already!”

“Sorry. But it’s always good advice.”

“It actually is good advice,” Michael said. “I can go pull the plug. Myrnin won’t come after me—”

“He would,” Claire said. “Myrnin used to bite other vamps, too, in case you forgot. You can’t assume just being in the blood club is going to get you through. And he’s strong, and really fast. Don’t. Make Amelie go, or Oliver. I don’t think he’d bite them.”

“You don’t think?”

She shrugged unhappily. “I don’t know him anymore when he’s like this. I don’t know what he’s going to do.”

“We are so screwed,” Eve said. “What about Amelie? What’s she doing?”

That opened up a whole can of worms that wriggled unpleasantly in the pit of Claire’s stomach. She was absolutely sure that Amelie and Oliver wouldn’t want her telling anybody about what she’d seen earlier, not even—or maybe especially—Eve and Michael. She decided to hedge. “I don’t know. Oliver told me to take care of it, but . . .” Claire was forced to shrug again. “Maybe by now they’ve both got it, too.”

“Well, that would be bad. Epically bad.”

It would, Claire thought. “I should check in with them and see what they want to do. It’s weird nobody’s called me back,” she said. “Michael, could you stay and wait for Shane—”

It turned out, as the curtain whipped aside, that there was no need to wait. Shane joined them, moving slowly. The stitches were in, but he had a white bandage taped over them. Claire took his hand, and he smiled. He looked a little pale. “I’m good to go. What are we doing?”

“Taking you home,” Claire said.

“Not if you guys are going somewhere else.”

“You’re walking wounded,” Michael said. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t optional.”

“Oh, yeah? You want to try to stop me, tough guy?” Shane said, and gri

Eve held up a hand for a high five with him. “Give it up for Shane Collins, master manipulator!”

He smacked it, and winced a little again. “Yeah, well, you don’t grow up with my dad without knowing a few things. So where are we going?”

“To Amelie,” Claire said. “She can go with us to the lab and keep Myrnin pi

“Define better with that guy.”

“Not all fangs and raaaaar.”

“Oh. Okay. Quick stop at the house. I want to load up on the good stuff.”

If Shane expected an argument, he didn’t get one. Claire was thinking the same thing.

When you were going into a war zone, you didn’t go unarmed.

ELEVEN

Eve had ordered something special off the Internet, which had arrived by mail, Claire discovered. She’d gotten three of them, and Claire put hers on with a whoop of delight.

Getting two-inch silver chain chokers around the neck of a guy, especially Shane, proved to be more of a problem.

Shane held the jewelry at arm’s length, dangling it like a dead rat. “No way in hell am I caught dead or alive wearing that.”

“Oh, come on, just this once,” Eve said. “Protects your neck. As in your arteries and veins? That’s kind of crucial, right?”

“Thanks for the thought, but it doesn’t go with my shoes.”

“You’re seriously going to worry about what people think right now?”

“No, I’m worrying about people taking pictures and putting them on Facebook. That crap never dies. Kind of like you, Mikey.”