Dead Girl's Dance by Rachel Caine, now you can read online.
It didnt happen, Claire told herself. Its a bad dream, just another bad dream. Youll wake up and itll be gone like fog.
She had her eyes squeezed tight shut. Her mouth felt dry, shriveled-up, and she was pressed against Shanes hot, solid side, curled up on the couch in the Glass House.
Terrified.
Its just a bad dream.
But when she opened her eyes, her friend Michael was still dead on the floor in front of her.
Shut those girls up, Shane, or I will, Shanes father snapped. He was pacing the wooden floor, back and forth, hands clasped behind him. He wasnt looking at Michaels body, shrouded under a thick, dusty velvet curtain, but it was all Claire could see, now that shed opened her eyes again. It was as big as the world, and it wasnt a dream, and it wasnt going away. Shanes dad was here, and he was terrifying, and Michael
Michael was dead. Only Michael had already been dead, hadnt he? Ghostly. Dead during the dayalive at night
Claire realized she was crying only when Shanes dad turned on her, staring with red-rimmed eyes. She hadnt felt that scared when shed stared into vampire eyeswell, maybe once or twice, because Morganville was a scary place, generally, and the vampires were pretty terrifying.
Shanes fatherMr. Collinswas a tall, long-legged man, and his hair was wild and curly and going gray. Long enough to reach the collar of his leather jacket. He had dark eyes. Crazy eyes. A scruffy beard. And a huge scar running across his face, puckered and liver colored.
Yeah, definitely scary. Not a vampire, just a man, and that made him scary in whole different ways.
She sniffled and wiped her eyes and quit crying. Something in her said, Cry later; survive now. She figured that voice had spoken inside of Shane, too, because Shane wasnt looking at the velvet-covered sprawl of his best friends body. He was watching his father. His eyes were red, too, but there were no tears.
Now Shane was scaring her, too.
Eve, Shane said softly, and then, louder, Eve! Put a sock in it!
Their fourth roommate, Eve, was collapsed in an awkward heap against the far wall by the bookcases, as far from Michaels body as she could get. Knees up, head down, she was crying hard and hopelessly. She looked up when Shane yelled her name, and her face was streaked with black from running mascara, half her Goth white makeup gone. She had on her deaths-head Mary Jane shoes, Claire noticed. She didnt know why that seemed important.
Eve looked completely lost, and Claire slipped off the couch and went to sit beside her. They put their arms around each other. Eve smelled of tears and sweat and some kind of sweet vanilla perfume, and she couldnt seem to stop shaking. Shock. That was what they always said on TV, anyway. Her skin felt cold.