Kiss of Death

His arms went around her, and it felt so natural, so perfect, that she felt that glow again, that feeling of absolute rightness.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re cute when you’re panicked.”

“Just when I’m panicked?”

“Ouch. Yeah, that didn’t come out as absolutely complimentary as I’d pla

She so wanted that, too. But there was a reason her alarm had gone off. “I have class,” she said with a sigh.

“Skip it.” He kissed her bare shoulder.

“I—you’ve got work! Remember? Sharp pointy knives and beef to chop?”

“Fun as that is, this is better.”

Well, his arguments were persuasive. Really persuasive. For about another thirty minutes, and then Claire forced herself to get up, grab the shower before Shane could get to it, and try to get her mind off the fact that he was lying in her bed.

And he still was when she came back in to grab her backpack. His hands were behind his head, and he looked ridiculously satisfied with the world—and with himself.

She smacked his bare foot, which was sticking out from under the sheet. “Get up, Lord of the Barbecue.”

“Ha. Don’t have to yet. You’re the one who had the bad idea to sign up for seven a.m. classes. Me, I go to work at a sensible hour.”

“Well, you’re not lying around in my bed all day, so get up. I don’t trust you alone in here.”

His smile was wicked and really, really dangerous. “Probably a good idea,” he said. “Not that you can exactly trust me in here when you’re with me.”

Oh, she was not going to climb back in bed with him. She was not. She had things to do. After gulping in a few deep breaths, she leaned over, gave him a quick kiss, avoided his grabby hands, and dashed to the door. “Out of my bed,” she said. “I mean it.”

He yawned. She gri

Downstairs, the coffeepot was already brewing, and Michael was sitting at the table, a laptop computer open in front of him. She was a little surprised; Michael wasn’t really the computer type. He had one, and she supposed he had e-mail and stuff, but he wasn’t always on it or anything. Not like most people their age. (Not like her, honestly.)

He looked up at her, then down at the screen, and then back up, to stare at her as if he’d never seen her before.

“What?” she asked. “Don’t tell me some of Kim’s skanky home video made YouTube.” That was something she really didn’t ever want to think about again. Kim and her little sneaky spying habits. Kim and her plans to make herself a star with all her hidden video cameras recording every aspect of life in Morganville.

Yeah, that hadn’t gone so well for Kim, in the end.

He shook his head and went back to the computer. “I’ve been checking about the studio, the recording session, you know? They’re serious, Claire. They want me in there on Thursday.”

“Really?” She grabbed a cup of coffee and slid into a chair across from him, then doctored up her drink with milk and sugar. “So we have to leave Thursday morning?”

“No, I’m thinking we leave tonight. Just in case. And besides, it gives us some time to get used to Dallas, and I don’t want to travel during the day.” Right. Vampires. Road trip. Sunlight. Probably not the best idea.

“We can’t take your car, can we? I mean, the tinting’s not legal outside of Morganville.”

“Yeah. Which is another reason for night driving. I figure we can take Eve’s car. It’s roomy and it’s got a big trunk, in case.”

In case they got caught in the sun, he meant. Claire tapped her fingers on the coffee cup, thinking. “What about supplies?” she said. “You know.”

“I’ll stop at the blood bank and pick up a cooler,” he said. “To go.”

“Seriously? They do that?”

“You’d be surprised. We can even put Cokes in there, too.”

That didn’t seem too sanitary, somehow. Claire tried not to think about it. “How long are we going to be gone?”

“If we leave tonight and I do the demo on Thursday during the day, we could be back on Friday night. Or Saturday, depending on what kind of stuff you guys want to do. I’m easy.”

That made Claire remember something. “Uh—you know we’re going to have an escort, right?”

“Escort?” Michael frowned. “What kind of escort?” Claire mimed fangs. Michael rolled his eyes. “Perfect. Who?”

“No idea. All I know is Amelie’s letter said we had to clear our departure time with Oliver.”

Michael kept on frowning. He reached for his cell phone and dialed as he sipped more coffee. “It’s Michael,” he said. “I hear we have to clear leaving town with you. We’re pla

His face went entirely blank as he listened to whatever Oliver said on the other end. Michael didn’t say anything at all.

Finally, he put the coffee cup down and said, “Do we have a choice?” Pause. “I didn’t think so. We’ll meet you there.”

He hung up, carefully laid the cell phone down on the table next to his coffee, and sank back in his chair, eyes closed. He looked—indescribable, Claire decided. It was as if there were so many things inside him fighting to come out that he couldn’t decide which one to let off the leash first.

“What?” she finally asked, half afraid to even try.

Eyes still shut, Michael said, “We’ve got an escort, all right.”

“Who?”

“Oliver.”

Claire set down her own coffee cup with a thump that slopped brown liquid over the rim. “What?”

“I know.”

“We have to be trapped in a car with Oliver?”

“I know.”

“So much for the fun. Fun all gone.”

He sighed and finally opened his eyes. She knew that look; she remembered it from when she’d first met him. Bitter and guarded. Hurt. Trapped. Then, he’d been a ghost, unable to leave this house, caught between human and vampire.

Now he was just as trapped, only instead of the house, his boundaries were the town limits. He’d felt, for the last few hours, as if he could break free, be someone else.

Oliver had just taken that away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Claire said. He shut the computer, unplugged it, and stood up. He didn’t meet her eyes again.

“Be ready at six,” he said. “Tell Shane. I’ll tell Eve.”

She nodded. He kept his head down as he walked toward the kitchen door. When he got there, he stopped for a few seconds without turning back to look at her. “Thanks,” he said. “Sucks, you know?”

“I know.”

Michael laughed bitterly. “Shane would have said, And so do you. ”

“I’m not Shane.”

“Yeah.” He still didn’t turn around. “I’m glad you’re happy with him. He’s a good guy, you know.”

“Michael—”

He was already gone by the time she said his name, just the swinging door left behind. There was no sense chasing him. He wanted to brood in private.

She called Shane to tell him what time they were leaving, but not about Oliver. Frankly, she didn’t want to have that grief just yet. She went on to class. After her early ones, she had a two-hour break, which meant she had things to do, so she could leave town with a clear conscience.

And besides, she’d been looking forward to this since she’d first thought of it.

First step—she walked the few blocks from campus to Common Grounds, Oliver’s coffee shop, and ordered up a mocha. He was behind the bar—a tall older man, with hippie hair and a tie-dyed T-shirt under his coffee-stained apron. When he was serving customers, you’d never know he was a vampire, much less one of the meanest she’d ever met.

Mocha in hand, Claire texted Monica’s cell. Meet me at Common Grounds ASAP.

She got back an immediate Btr B good.

Oh, it would be.

Claire sipped and waited, and Monica eventually rolled up in her hot red convertible; no Gina and Je