Feast of Fools Page 0,9

- she wouldn't. She just wouldn't.

Claire wrung out the shirt until her hands ached, then pressed it between two towels to try to get it as dry as possible. She handed it to Shane while Eve was busy putting the unused supplies back in the box, and helped him drag the damp fabric over his head and down his chest. She couldn't help but let her fingers brush down his skin, and to be honest, she didn't really try. In fact, she might have moved a little more slowly than she should have.

"Feels good," Shane said, very quietly, in her ear. "You okay?"

Claire nodded. He touched her lightly under the chin to lift it, and studied her face closely.

"Yeah," he said. "You're okay." He brushed her lips with his and looked past her at the kitchen door as it opened.

Michael, with Claire's parents in tow. The knot in Claire's chest, the one tied tight around her heart, eased a couple of precious notches.

Her parents looked . . . blank. Frowning, as if they'd forgotten something important. When her mother's eyes focused on her, Claire dredged up a smile.

"Weren't we going to have dinner?" her mother asked. "It's getting very late, isn't it? Were you going to cook, or - "

"No," Michael said. "We'll go out." He grabbed his car keys from the hook next to the door. "All of us."

Chapter Two

There weren't a lot of choices for late-night dining in Morganville for those who weren't 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 Claire's parents, after an even more uncomfortably close ride in Michael's big vampire-tinted car.

The hamburgers were good, but Claire couldn't 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 couldn't. 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. Claire's parents didn't exactly remember what had happened back at the house; more of Mr. Bishop's influence, Claire was sure. She hated that he'd messed with their heads, but in a way she was relieved, too. One less thing to have to worry about.

Her dad's 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. They'd been over this. Repeatedly.

"You know my daughter's only - "

"Almost seventeen, yes sir, I know."

Dad frowned more deeply. "Sixteen, and sheltered. I don't like her living in a house with a bunch of hormone-crazy teenagers - no offense, I'm sure you mean to do right, but I was young myself once. Now that we're in town, with a place of our own, it's probably better that Claire move in with us."

Claire had not been expecting that. Not at all. "Dad! You don't trust me?"

"Honey, it's not about trusting you. It's about trusting the two adult men you're living with. Especially one I can see you're getting very close to, even though you know that's not very smart."

Fury burst open inside of her, and all she could see beyond the haze of red was Shane, standing between her and Eve, defending their lives while putting his own at risk.

Shane, turning away from her time after time because he was better - better by far - than she was at self-control.

Claire sucked in a deep breath and was about to let it out in a torrent of words, at top volume, when Shane's hand came down over hers and gripped it.

"Yeah," he said. "You're right about that. You don't know me, and what you do know you probably don't much like. I'm not really parent friendly. Not like Michael." Shane jerked his chin at Michael, who was trying to shake his head no, don't do it. "I think maybe you're right. Maybe it would be better if Claire moved back in with you for a while. Give you a chance to get to