Bite Club(18)

Claire almost blurted out the whole Myrnin/Frank face-off, but realized that she couldn't, because Shane was there, and Shane still didn't know his father had survived...at least, in the form of a brain in a jar, hooked up to a computer. Shane thought Frank was dead, and he was at peace with that, kind of. Claire didn't know how he was going to feel about the rest of it, and she couldn't stand to hurt him. There was no reason he had to know.

Or so she kept telling herself, anyway.

It was a nice time together, and it felt like home. The laughter made her warm, and the occasional glances and smiles from Shane made her tingle all over. After dinner, she and Eve did the dishes (but only because it was their turn) while Michael and Shane claimed the couch and loaded up the new game. Turned out it was--no surprise--another zombie game. Blood and guts ensued. Claire curled up between them on the couch with a textbook, while Eve stretched out on the floor and flipped through a magazine.

A normal night. Very, very normal.

Until Shane lost the game.

"Damn it!" he yelled, and threw the controller at the screen. Like, reallythrew it. It hit the edge of the frame, instead of the softer LCD part, and pieces of the controller broke off and went everywhere. Eve yelped and rolled over, brushing off pieces of plastic. Claire flinched.

"Jesus, Shane, get a grip," Michael said. "You lost. BFD, man. It's not the first time."

"Shut up," Shane said. He stood up, grabbed the controller, and glared at it. "Piece of crap."

"Don't blame the equipment. Itwas working fine before you scrapped it."

"How the hell do you know? Were you playing it?"

"I know you owe me for a new controller."

"Screw you, bro." Shane threw the broken controller atMichael this time. Not that it was a risk; Michael calmly reached up and caught it, so smoothly it might have been some kind of special effect.

"Maybe you should chill out."

"Maybe you should stop with the vampire reflexes in game!"

Michael frowned. He didn't usually let Shane get to him, but Claire could see the anger forming. "I played you fair."

"Fair?" Shane barked out a laugh. "Man, you have no idea what you're talking about anymore, do you?

You don't even know when you're screwing us."

"Hey!" Claire said, and stood up between them, as Michael got to his feet. The air felt thick and ominous now, the house's reflection of the feelings of its owners. "You guys, stop! It's just agame !"

"No, it'snot just a game. Get the hell out of the way!"

"Stop!" she said sharply, and punched Shane in the shoulder. "Jeez. Didn't you get enough fighting in for the day? Whatis this? Michael's right. You don't get to destroy stuff just because you lost a game. You're not three years old, Shane!"

His dark eyes focused on her, and she felt a very real, very cold chill go through her. That wasnot the Shane she knew. That was theother Shane. "Don't hit me," he said. "I don't like it."

Claire let her hands drop to her sides and took a deep breath. "Sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I just wanted to get your attention."

Well, she'd gotten it, all right. She wished she hadn't. But at least it had broken the momentum of whatever was going on between Shane and Michael.

Now it was just between her and Shane.

"Claire," Michael said. She held out a hand without looking at him, and he fell silent.

And she waited for Shane to say something.

SHANE

I hate losing. I mean, really, a lot. I usually try to cover it up and pretend like I don't, but there's something inside me that gets twisted up and desperate. Because losing means that you're at someone else's mercy, even if it's just a game. Even if it's not supposed to mean anything.

I'd had too much of that in my life, being in someone else's power. First my dad's. Then the vampires'. There was always somebody looming, somebody faster and stronger and crueler than me, and it made me feel like a scared kid inside all the time.

I wasn't lying. The game controller had flaked out on me. The buttons stuck. It wasn't my fault that I lost; it was the tool's. I wasn't going to lose, not to Michael. Not anymore. Yeah, losing my temper was stupid--I mean, it was my favorite game controller I'd busted--but thinking that it wasn't fair, that he'd cheated, that he'd used those vampire reflexes to win and didn't deserve it...It burned me, okay? Burned me bad.