Bite Club Page 0,57

front of the triple mirror, frowning at her reflection. With the khaki pants she'd picked today, the pink-and-white lace top looked weirdly appropriate--and kind of sexy. She'd come a long way in the last few months, but she wasn't sure she was ready for sexy in public. That just wasn'ther.

The dressing room was too quiet. Claire knocked on the door. "Miranda? Hey, come out and take a look at this. Tell me if it's too much."

Miranda peeked around the edge, face gone ghost pale. Her eyes were dark, with that blank stare that people found so weird.

She was having one of her things. A vision.

"It has blood on it," she said. "You shouldn't buy it if it has blood on it."

Claire looked down. The top was perfectly clean. "Mir--"

Miranda suddenly opened the door. She had on one of the tops she'd been trying on, and Claire had a hurried impression that it looked totally good on her, but the girl was focused on something else entirely. She grabbed up all of the clothes, headed straight for the counter, and said, "I need this one, this one, and the one I have on." She put thebuy pile down and then handed over the other one. "I just can't see myself in this, though."

Claire realized she meant that literally. As in, Miranda had looked into her future and couldn't see herself actually wearing that top. Bizarre. The shopkeeper didn't seem to get it, though--why would she?--and named her price. Miranda paid, and Claire barely had time to dig out five bucks for the pink-and-white top she had on before Miranda grabbed her arm and said, "We have to go. Hurry."

"But--"

"Now!"

Miranda hurried her outside, down the sidewalk, and then quickly turned her left, into an alley between two buildings. "Hide there," she said, and pointed. "Right there. Don't come out, Claire. Don't come out for anything. You understand? It's okay. It's going to be okay, butnot if you come out. "

"Miranda, what in the hell--?"

Miranda's face was chalk white now, but very determined. She looked down at herself and said, in a sad sort of voice, "It's completely cute, isn't it? This shirt?"

"Yes, it's perfect. But what are you--?"

"Hush." Miranda turned toward the mouth of the alley and pointed again into the shadows behind some trash cans. "Don't come out!"

"Wait. What happens if I do?"

"I die," Miranda said very simply. "Hide."

Claire didn't like it, but there was something utterly sure about what Miranda had just said, and for all

that Claire didn't believe in psychic predictions and that sort of stuff, she couldn't deny that there was something about Miranda. Something weird and powerful, at times.

So she pressed herself into the shadows.

For a long few seconds, nothing happened, and then she heard footsteps. Confident high-heel taps that echoed off the bricks, then slowed and came to a stop.

"I saw you come in here," said Gina's voice. "Freak. Hiding in dark alleys now? What's that about? You live in a Dumpster? Not that I'd be surprised."

Miranda didn't answer. Claire almost stepped out, because Gina was alone, and anyway, there was no way she was going to let Miranda face her down alone, no matter what Mir had said about it.

As if the girl knew what she was thinking, her hand moved behind her back and made a pushing motion. Stay there.

And Claire did. She didn't like it, but she did.

"You're going to hit me," Miranda said. "You're going to break my nose."

"Damn straight," Gina said. She sounded lazy and happy, as if she was enjoying all this. "You're lucky that's all I want to do. If you move, if you fight back, you're going to get it worse. Understand?"

"Yes," Miranda said. "I understand. If I don't let you hit me, you're going to kill me."

Claire actually felt a tremor of chill run through her, like a wave, because there was justno doubt in Miranda's voice at all. It wasn't scared. It was just...factual, as if she'd already seen it happen.

"You're smarter than you look, you spaced-out nutcase. So, yeah. Let me break your nose, and I'll let you walk away. You fight, and it gets worse and the knife comes out. We're clear?"

"Yes."

Claire tried to move again, because she knew with a nightmarish certainty what was going to happen and that she had to do something,had to , but again, Miranda made thatstay put motion.

"It's okay," Miranda said in an eerily empty, remote voice. "It's not going to hurt that bad."

"Bullshit," Gina said, and she