Michael let him go, walked over, and picked up a couple of things from the pile that had spilled out of the box Shane had been carrying out.
A pointed stake.
A wicked sharp hunting knife.
"You came prepared, " he said, and tossed them to Shane, who caught them out of the air. "Go for it. "
Eve screamed and threw herself in front of Michael, who gently but firmly moved her out of the way.
"Go on, " he said. "We do this now, or we end up doing it later. You want to move out so you can kill me with a clear conscience. Why wait? Come on, man, do it. I won't fight. "
Shane turned the knife in his hand, the edge slashing the light with every agitated move. Claire felt frozen, winter-cold, unable to think of anything to say or do. What had happened? How did things get this bad? What --
Shane took a step toward Michael, a sudden long lunge, and Michael didn't move. His eyes -- they weren't cold at all, and they weren't vampire-scary, either. They were human, and they were scared.
For a long breath, nobody moved, and then Michael said, "I know you feel like I betrayed you, but I didn't. This wasn't about you. It was for me, it was so I didn't have to be trapped here anymore. I was dying here. I was buried alive. "
Shane's face twisted, as if that hunting knife had slid into his own guts. "Maybe you should have stayed dead. " He raised the stake in his right hand.
"Shane, no!" Eve was screaming, trying to get to them, but Michael was holding her off. She turned on him in a fury. "Dammit, stop it! You don't really want to die!"
"No, " Michael said. "I don't. He knows I don't. "
Shane paused, trembling. Claire watched his face, his eyes, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking. What he was feeling. It was just a face, and she didn't know him at all.
"You were my friend, " Shane said. He sounded lost. "You were my best friend. How screwed up is this?"
Michael didn't say anything. He took a step forward, took the knife and stake out of Shane's hands, and pulled him into a hug.