hands. Claire glanced over at him as they walked down the narrowing, high-fenced alley. "You scared?"
He shook his head. "Weirdly enough? Not really. It feels . . . like I've done this before. Or like it's just a dream, and I'm going to wake up. I can't tell which." He made a fist and looked at it. "I'm bigger than I feel like I should be. Three years of growth, I guess. I feel stronger. That's good." "Shane, in case we don't . . . don't come out of this, I wanted to say . . ."
He glanced over at her, and she felt her whole body warm from it. She remembered that look. It made her feel naked inside and out, but not in a creepy kind of way. In a way that felt . . . free. "If what you say is true, and I guess it has to be, I think I know why we're . . . together," he said. "I think I'd fall for you no matter what, Claire. You're kind of awesome."
She grinned. "You just like older women."
"Damn straight," he said, and spun a stake in his fingers as if he'd been doing it all his life. Which, she thought, maybe he had, really. "So what were you going to say, before?"
She sighed. "Nothing."
"No, really."
"I was going to say that I love you."
He didn't know what to say to that, she could tell, and for a few steps there was dead silence. "I knew I didn't just hook up with you," he finally said. "You know I can't say it back, right? Because I just met you and everything?"
"I know," she said. "But I had to say it anyway. Kind of like Eve, with the kissing."
The shack was up ahead. Once they were inside, there would be no going back. Claire had a terrible premonition, a black, suffocating feeling that this was the last moment for them, that one of them, maybe both of them, wouldn't come through this alive.
She was going to lose him, and to make it worse, she didn't really even have him anymore. That hurt so badly it almost made her cry.
Shane suddenly stopped, turned to her, and grabbed her. She didn't know why at first, and then he bent his head to hers and oh, he was kissing her, and it was tentative at first, and then sweet, and then it was . . . incredibly hot and tender and lovely and it made all those brokenhearted moments vanish like snow under the sun.
He let her go, finally, and stepped back, eyes glittering, lips damp, spots of color high on his cheeks. He didn't say anything. Neither did she.
Finally, Michael leaned over and said, "If you're done, shouldn't we be moving or something?"
"Oh," Claire said, and almost laughed. "Yeah. Let's get this over with, because I want to do that again."
The moment of golden joy that kiss had sparked inside her stayed with her as she unlocked the shack's door, and even as they started down the steps toward Myrnin's lab.
It lasted right up until they were about halfway down, and she heard Myrnin say, in a silky, dark voice, "I do believe I have visitors."
Well, it wasn't as if she'd expected him not to notice, but there was something alien in his voice, something that made her completely go cold inside. "Keep going," she whispered. "Spread out. Pretend it's vampire dodgeball."
"Oh, now you tell us," Eve whispered back. Her voice was shaking. "I frickin' hate dodgeball. Good luck, new girl."
"You, too."
"I'm faster than the rest of you, if--because I'm a vampire," Michael said, and it was some kind of breakthrough for him to say that. "If you get in trouble, I'll be there."
"Nice," Shane said. "I'm warming up to this bloodsucking thing, Mikey."
"No, you're not."
"Okay, no, I'm not, but right now let's pretend I am."
Claire stepped down to the floor of the lab. It was silent now, and it looked deserted. The lights were burning, but somehow it seemed very dark, and very scary. She reviewed what she had to do: get to the bookcase, move it aside, unlock the door that covered the portal, concentrate, get the portal open, and hold it while Frank and his people came through.
Yeah, that was going to be easy.
Shane, Michael, and Eve were moving farther from her, leaving her on the far right side. That was good; she had a straight shot to the bookcase from here.
Too easy.
"I warned you," Myrnin's