Claire slipped the phone into her pocket. Shane took her hands in his and rubbed lightly over her knuckles, a gentle, soothing kind of motion that made her feel at least a little safe, just for a moment.
Well get through this, he said. When he tried to kiss her, though, he winced. She put a hand lightly on his stomach.
Youre hurting, she said.
"Only when I bend over. When did you get so short, anyway?"
Five minutes ago. She rolled her eyes, playing along, but she was worried. According to the rules of Morganville, he was off-limits to vampires during his convalescence; the hospital bracelet still around his wrist, glowing white plastic with a big red cross on it, ensured that any passing bloodsucker would know he wasnt fair game.
If their visitors played by the rules. Which Mr. Bishop might not. He wasnt a Morganville vampire. He was something else.
Something worse.
Shane, Im serious. How bad is it? she asked in a low whisper, just for Shanes ears. He ruffled her short hair, then kissed it.
Im cool, he said. Takes more than a punk with a switchblade to put a Collins down. Count on it.
Unspoken was the fact that they were up against a hell of a lot more than that, and he knew it.
Dont do anything dumb, she said. Or Ill kill you myself.
Ouch, girl. Whatever happened to unconditional love around here?
It got tired of visiting you in the hospital. She held his eyes for a long few seconds. Whatever youre thinking about doing, dont. We have to wait. We have to.
Yeah, all the vampires say so. Must be true. She hated hearing him say the word quite that way, with so much loathing; when he said it, she always thought of Michael, of the way that he suffered when Shanes hatred boiled out. Michael hadnt wanted to be a vampire, and he was trying as best he could to live with it.
Shane wasnt making that any easier.