Lord of Misrule

“Shane said he loved me.”

“Okay, first impressions—fantastic, good, that’s what I was hoping you’d said.” Eve took a deep breath and let up on the brake, steering out into the deserted street. “Second impressions, well, I hope that you two . . . um . . . how can I put this? Watch yourselves?”

“You mean, don’t have sex? We won’t.” Claire said it with a little bit of an edge. “Even if we wanted to. I mean, he promised, and he’s not going to break that promise, not even if I say it’s okay.”

“Oh. Oh.” Eve stared at her, wide-eyed, for way too long for road safety. “You’re kidding! Wait, you’re not. He said he loved you, and then he said—”

“No,” Claire said. “He said no.”

“Oh.” Fu

“Great? Superbly awesome? Yeah, I know. I just—” Claire threw up her hands. “I just want him, okay?”

“He’ll still be there in a couple of months, Claire. At seventeen, you’re not a kid, at least in Texas.”

“You’ve put some thought into this.”

“Not me,” Eve said, and gave her an apologetic look.

“Shane? You mean—you mean you talked about this? With Shane?”

“He needed some girl guidance. I mean, he’s taking this really seriously—a lot more seriously than I expected. He wants to do the right thing. That’s cool, right? I think that’s cool. Most guys, it’s just, whatever.”

Claire clenched her jaw so hard she felt her teeth grinding. “I can’t believe he talked to you about it!”

“Well, you’re talking to me about it.”

“He’s a guy!”

“Guys occasionally talk, believe it or not. Something more than pass the beer or where’s the porn?” Eve turned the corner, and they cruised past a couple of slow blocks of houses, some people out walking, an elementary school with a TEMPORARILY CLOSED sign out front. “You didn’t exactly ask for advice, but I’m going to give it: don’t rush this. You may think you’re good to go, but give it some time. It’s not like you have a sell-by date or anything.”

Despite her a

“Well, duh. Hormones!”

“So how old were you when—”

“Too young. I speak from experience, grasshopper.” Eve’s expression went distant for a second. “I wish I’d waited for Michael.”

That was, for some reason, kind of a shock, and Claire blinked. She remembered some things, and felt deeply uncomfortable. “Uh . . . did Brandon . . . ?” Because Brandon had been her family’s Protector vampire, and he’d been a complete creep. She couldn’t imagine much worse than having Brandon be your first.

“No. Not that he didn’t want to, but no, it wasn’t Brandon.”

“Who?”

“Sorry. Off-limits.”

Claire blinked. There wasn’t much Eve considered off-limits. “Really?”

“Really.” Eve pulled the car up to the curb. “Bottom line? If Shane says he loves you, he does, full stop. He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it, all the way. He’s not the kind of guy to tell you what you want to hear. That makes you really, really lucky. You should remember that.”

Claire was trying, really, but from time to time that moment came back to her, that blinding, searing moment when he’d looked into her face and said those words, and she’d seen that amazing light in his eyes. She’d wanted to see it again, over and over. Instead, she’d seen him walk away.

It felt romantic. It also felt frustrating, on some level she didn’t even remember feeling before. And now there was something new: doubt. Maybe that was my fault. Maybe I was supposed to do something I didn’t do. Some signal I didn’t give him.

Eve read her expression just fine. “You’ll be okay,” she said, and laughed just a little. “Give the guy a break. He’s the second actual gentleman I’ve ever met. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to throw you on the bed and go. Just means he won’t, right now. Which you have to admit: kinda hot.”

Put in those terms, it kind of was.

As it got closer to nightfall, Richard called to say he was letting Michael go. For the second time, the three of them piled into the car and went racing to City Hall. The barricades had mostly come down. According to the radio and television, it had been a very quiet day, with no reports of violence. Store owners—the human ones, anyway—were pla

Life was going on, and Mayor Morrell was expected to come out with some kind of a speech. Not that anybody would listen.

“Are they letting Sam out, too?” Claire asked, as Eve parked in the underground lot.

“Apparently. Richard doesn’t think he can really keep anybody much longer. Some kind of town ordinance, which means law and order really is back in fashion. Plus, I think he’s really afraid Sam’s going to hurt himself if this goes on. And also, maybe he thinks he can follow Sam to find Amelie.” Eve sca

“Like what? A big sign saying This Is a Trap?” Shane opened his door and got out, taking Claire’s hand to help her. He didn’t drop it once she was standing beside him. “Not that I wouldn’t put it past some of our finer citizens. But no, I don’t see anything.”

Michael was being let out of his cell when they arrived, and there were hugs and handshakes. The other vampires didn’t have anyone to help them, and looked a little confused about what they were supposed to do.

Not Sam.

“Sam, wait!” Michael grabbed his arm on the way past, dragging his grandfather to a stop. Looking at them standing together, Claire was struck again by how alike they were. And always would be, she supposed, given that neither one of them was going to age any more. “You can’t go charging off by yourself. You don’t even know where she is. Ru

“Doing nothing will get her killed. I can’t have that, Michael. None of this means anything to me if she dies.” Sam shook Michael’s hand away. “I’m not asking you to come with me. I’m just telling you not to get in my way.”

“Grandpa—”

“Exactly. Do as you’re told.” Sam could move vampire-quick when he wanted to, and he was gone almost before the words hit Claire’s ears—a blur, heading for the exit.

“So much for trying to figure out where she is from where he goes,” Shane said. “Unless you’ve got light speed under the hood of that car, Eve.”

Michael looked after him with a strange expression on his face—anger, regret, sorrow. Then he hugged Eve closer and kissed the top of her head.

“Well, I guess my family’s no more screwed up than anybody else’s,” he said.

Eve nodded. “Let’s recap. My dad was an abusive jerk—”

“Mine, too.” Shane raised his hand.

“Thank you. My brother’s a psycho backstabber—”

Shane said, “You don’t even want to talk about my dad.”

“Point. So, in short, Michael, your family is awesome by comparison . Bloodsucking, maybe. But kind of awesome.”

Michael sighed. “Doesn’t really feel like it at the moment.”

“It will.” Eve was suddenly very serious. “But Shane and I don’t have that to look forward to, you know. You’re our only real family now.”

“I know,” Michael said. “Let’s go home.”

11

Home was theirs again. The refugees were all out now, leaving a house that badly needed picking up and cleaning—not that anybody had gone out of their way to trash the place, but with that many people coming and going, things happened. Claire grabbed a trash bag and began clearing away paper plates, old Styrofoam cups half full of stale coffee, crumpled wrappers, and papers. Shane fired up the video game, apparently back in the mood to kill zombies. Michael took his guitar out of its case and tuned it, but he kept getting up to stare out the windows, restless and worried.