opened up a whole can of worms that wriggled unpleasantly in the pit of Claire's stomach. She was absolutely sure that Amelie and Oliver wouldn't want her telling anybody about what she'd seen earlier, not even--or maybe especially--Eve and Michael. She decided to hedge. "I don't know. Oliver told me to take care of it, but . . ." Claire was forced to shrug again. "Maybe by now they've both got it, too."
"Well, that would be bad. Epically bad."
It would, Claire thought. "I should check in with them and see what they want to do. It's weird nobody's called me back," she said. "Michael, could you stay and wait for Shane--"
It turned out, as the curtain whipped aside, that there was no need to wait. Shane joined them, moving slowly. The stitches were in, but he had a white bandage taped over them. Claire took his hand, and he smiled. He looked a little pale. "I'm good to go. What are we doing?"
"Taking you home," Claire said.
"Not if you guys are going somewhere else."
"You're walking wounded," Michael said. "I'm pretty sure this isn't optional."
"Oh, yeah? You want to try to stop me, tough guy?" Shane said, and grinned. "I know you better. You wouldn't hit a guy who's down."
Eve held up a hand for a high five with him. "Give it up for Shane Collins, master manipulator!"
He smacked it, and winced a little again. "Yeah, well, you don't grow up with my dad without knowing a few things. So where are we going?"
"To Amelie," Claire said. "She can go with us to the lab and keep Myrnin pinned down while we pull the plug, if he's not . . . you know, better."
"Define better with that guy."
"Not all fangs and raaaaar."
"Oh. Okay. Quick stop at the house. I want to load up on the good stuff."
If Shane expected an argument, he didn't get one. Claire was thinking the same thing.
When you were going into a war zone, you didn't go unarmed.
Chapter Eleven
ELEVEN
Eve had ordered something special off the Internet, which had arrived by mail, Claire discovered. She'd gotten three of them, and Claire put hers on with a whoop of delight.
Getting two-inch silver chain chokers around the neck of a guy, especially Shane, proved to be more of a problem.
Shane held the jewelry at arm's length, dangling it like a dead rat. "No way in hell am I caught dead or alive wearing that."
"Oh, come on, just this once," Eve said. "Protects your neck. As in your arteries and veins? That's kind of crucial, right?"
"Thanks for the thought, but it doesn't go with my shoes."
"You're seriously going to worry about what people think right now?"
"No, I'm worrying about people taking pictures and putting them on Facebook. That crap never dies. Kind of like you, Mikey."
Michael, straight-faced, said, "He's got a point, because I would definitely take pictures. So would you."
Eve had to grin. "Yeah, I would. Okay, then. But you'd look glam. I could fix you up with silver eye shadow to match."
"Tell you what: you can be Glammera the vampire hunter. I'll stick with being manly and heavily armed."
Michael snorted and picked up some wooden--i.e., mostly nonlethal--stakes, which he stuffed in his jacket. "You guys ready?" "Guess so." Shane gave his small crossbow another once-over, then put it in the carry bag. Eve had packed a (for her) huge purse full of stuff. The purse, of course, had a shiny yellow happy face on it--with fangs. Claire stuck with her unfashionable but useful backpack. She'd emptied out all of her books and left them stacked on the table. She had no idea when she'd actually get back to school, but it certainly wouldn't be today.
Shane dropped the silver choker to the table, shuddered, and led the way out of the Glass House to the car. Michael locked up behind them, and Claire thought about how natural it was for them now to watch one another's backs. There wasn't even any discussion. Shane went first, keys to Eve's hearse in hand; Eve had, of course, called shotgun, so she was heading straight for the passenger side. Claire was checking shadows and heading for the back of the long black coach, and Michael zipped down fast and joined her as she opened the back. He was the last one in, and smacked the roof to signal Shane as he and Claire sat down on the long bench seats in the back.
Eve had added some kind of color-changing strips along the