Youre doing it. The house doesnt like it when you play dirty with Michael. Now step away from him before something bad happens.
He thought they were bluffingClaire could see it in his eyesbut he also didnt see much of a reason to push his luck. He let Michael go, his full lips curling in contempt. Put that away, silly girl, he told Eve, and before any of them could even blink, he slapped it out of her handslapped it so hard it flew across the room and stuck in the wall. Eve grabbed her hand and cradled it close, backing away from him.
Apologize, he told her. Beg my forgiveness for threatening me.
Bite me! she snapped.
The vampires eyes flared like hot crystal, and he lunged for Eve. Michael moved faster than Claire had ever seen him, just a confusing blur, and then the stranger was hurtling into the stove. He caught himself with both hands out, and she heard the sizzle as his palms hit the burners, followed by an enraged cry of pain.
This was going to get really bad, and there was nothing, nothing, they could do.
Shane grabbed Eve by the shoulder, Claire by the arm, and he hustled them into the corner by the breakfast table, where they had at least partial cover. But that left Michael on his own, fighting out of his weight class against something more like a wildcat than a man.
It didnt take long, maybe a few seconds, before Michaels strength failed. The stranger threw Michael to the kitchen floor and straddled him, fangs down and gleaming. The temperature in the kitchen plummeted to icy chill, cold enough that Claire could see her own breath as she panted in fear. That low-frequency rumble began again, jittering plates and glasses and pans.
Eve screamed and fought to get free of Shanes hold, not that she could do anything, anything at all
The back door shuddered and crashed open under a single, overpowering blow. Wood splinters flew across the room, and Claire heard the locks snap like ice breaking.
Oliver, the second-scariest vampire in town (the first, some days), stood at the back door, staring inside. He was a tall man, built like a runner, all wiry muscles and angles. Tonight, hed dispensed with his usual nice-guy disguise; he was in black, and his hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His face looked like carved bone in the moonlight.
He slapped an open palm against the empty air of the doorway, and it smacked into a solid barrier. Fools! he shouted. Let me in!
The stranger laughed, and yanked Michael up to a sitting position, fangs poised just over his neck. Do it and Ill drain him, he said. You know what that will do. Hes too young.
Claire didnt know, but she knew it couldnt be anything good. Maybe not even survivable.
Invite me in, Oliver repeated, in a deadly soft voice. Claire. Do it now.