Bite Club Page 0,67

arcs as he danced around it, hitting with vicious intensity. He'd taken off his shirt, and he was sweating so much it looked like he'd just come out of the pool, his hair lank and plastered around his face. His skin shone and dripped.

And he was covered with bruises.Covered. She was shocked; she hadn't seen him like this, not ever. Some were just red spots--fresh ones--and others were old and blue and faded around the edges. The nastiest ones looked black and green. What thehell had he been doing?

Claire started to walk over to him, but Michael stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "No," he said. "Let me, okay?"

"Okay." There was something very off about the way Shane was going after that bag, like it had personally tried to kill him. And she could tell that he'd been at it for a while now, ever since he'd walked

in, probably.

As Michael came over, Shane grabbed the swinging bag in both gloved hands and stilled it. He was panting for breath, but his wide eyes were fixed on his friend.

Not in a friendly kind of way.

"Hey," Michael said. "We got worried when you blew out of the house. We wanted to be sure you were okay."

Shane didn't say anything. He clung to the bag and panted and watched Michael with that strangely blank stare.

"So," Michael continued, still moving toward him, more slowly now. More carefully, like he'd have approached a wild animal. "What do you say we blow this off and go get a pizza or something? You must be hungry."

He must have crossed some kind of invisible line, because Shane bared his teeth, and Michael stopped in his tracks. That was one crazy look, and Claire felt sick inside; it didn't look like Shane at all. He kept on grinning--if you could call it that--and reached down for a sports bottle sitting off to the side. He guzzled most of it in broad, thirsty gulps, but he still never took his eyes off Michael. Not for a second.

"I'm not hungry," Shane finally said. "Vassily's got me on a new diet. Protein shakes."

Michael tried again. "Bro, this is some unsettling crap going on. What the hell is up with you?"

"Can't you tell?" Shane asked. His voice sounded lower than normal--deeper in his throat. "Thought you knew everything, being part of the master race and all. Thought we mere mortals could never put anything over on you."

Claire had thought it was a private conversation, but behind her, she heard laughter--laughter in name only. It was bully laughter, meant to unsettle. There was no real amusement behind it, other than the anticipation of pulling some wings off particularly interesting flies. She risked a glance over her shoulder.

Shane had workout buddies all around them. She'd ignored them at first, thinking they were just people in proximity, but now they were all stopping what they were hitting or lifting or doing, and paying attention.

Big men. Tough. Sweating. A girl, too, but even she looked solid and muscular and ready to kick ass at a second's notice.

Claire realized that she was holding Eve's hand, and holding it tightly. She glanced over and saw that Eve, too, was riveted by Shane's behavior. She looked spooked and very worried.

Claire pulled her fingers free and walked over to stand next to Michael. "Shane, what are you doing here? Let's just go home, okay?"

Shane focused on her, but that didn't make it better. If anything, it made it worse, because there was none of the love and gentleness in him that she expected to see--that she'd seen only an hour ago. He stared at her, then at Michael.

She reached for Michael's arm for support. Something flared hot in Shane's eyes. "That how it is? You and Claire?" Shane asked. "Not surprised, man. Every girl I ever knew ended up liking you better than me. It's almost like you set out to make it happen."

"That'sso not true!" Claire said, shocked--shocked he would eventhink it, much lesssay it--and stepped away from Michael. "You think--You think me and Michael...?"

"Why not? He's cooler, right? He's rocking that whole guitar hero thing. Oh, and he's a vampire--I know how much all you chicks dig that. He could snap his fingers and pull any girl he wanted. Including you. Don't kid yourself thinking you've got achoice. "

He didn't even say her name. Somehow, that hurt worse than anything else--and it made her angrier, too, which probably wasn't right, but she couldn't help it. "No, he