Yeah, he said. Youre okay. He brushed her lips with his and looked past her at the kitchen door as it opened.
Michael, with Claires parents in tow. The knot in Claires chest, the one tied tight around her heart, eased a couple of precious notches.
Her parents looked . . . Blank. Frowning, as if theyd forgotten something important. When her mothers eyes focused on her, Claire dredged up a smile.
Werent we going to have dinner? her mother asked. Its getting very late, isnt it? Were you going to cook, or
No, Michael said. Well go out. He grabbed his car keys from the hook next to the door. All of us.
span> Michael, with Claires parents in tow. The knot in Claires chest, the one tied tight around her heart, eased a couple of precious notches.
Her parents looked . . . Blank. Frowning, as if theyd forgotten something important. When her mothers eyes focused on her, Claire dredged up a smile.
Werent we going to have dinner? her mother asked. Its getting very late, isnt it? Were you going to cook, or
No, Michael said. Well go out. He grabbed his car keys from the hook next to the door. All of us.
There werent a lot of choices for late-night dining in Morganville for those who werent of the fanged persuasion, but there were a few places near the campus, most notably a twenty-four-hour diner. They ended up in an uncomfortable bunch around a table, the four of them plus Claires parents, after an even more uncomfortably close ride in Michaels big vampire-tinted car.
The hamburgers were good, but Claire couldnt concentrate on the taste. She was too busy watching the people outside the diner. Some were college students, laughing in groups in the parking lot, ignoring the occasional pale-looking strangers walking nearby. Claire was reminded of videos of lions pacing along with antelopes as they grazed, waiting for one or two to fall behind.
She wanted to warn those kids, and she couldnt. The gold bracelet on her wrist made sure of that.
Michael, predictably, had to bear the brunt of parental conversation. He was just better at it, and he had a soothing kind of presence that made everything seem . . . Normal. Claires parents didnt exactly remember what had happened back at the house; more of Mr. Bishops influence, Claire was sure. She hated that hed messed with their heads, but in a way she was relieved, too. One less thing to have to worry about.
Her dads attitude with Shane was enough.
So, Dad said, as he pretended to concentrate on his pot roast,how old are you again, son?
Eighteen, sir, Shane said, in his most blandly polite voice. Theyd been over this. Repeatedly.
You know my daughters only
Almost seventeen, yes sir, I know.
Dad frowned more deeply. Sixteen, and sheltered. I dont like her living in a house with a bunch of hormone-crazy teenagersno offense, Im sure you mean to do right, but I was young myself once. Now that were in town, with a place of our own, its probably better that Claire move in with us.