frowning at them. Terminal fashion indecision. Claire dashed in, tapped her right hand, and Eve gave her a grateful grin and tossed the shirt into the suitcase. The music was so loud, conversation was impossible. As she passed Shane's door, she saw him sprawled on his bed. He had a duffel bag, like Michael's but brown instead of blue. He looked bored, but he brightened up when he saw her. "Seriously?" she yelled. "`The Macarena'?"
"It's war," he yelled back. "I had to bring out the heavy artillery. Next up, Barry Manilow!" Claire hit the POWER button on the stereo, leaving Korn thundering victoriously through the house. After a second or two, Eve turned it down. "See how easy that was?" Claire said. "What, giving up? Giving up is always easy. It's the peace that follows that sucks." Shane slithered off the bed and followed her as she headed for her room. "How was it?"
"What?"
"Everything."
"You know." She shrugged. "Normal." Yeah. She'd manipulated the second most powerful vampire in town into taking her side against a psycho bitch-queen sorority girl. She'd talked rationally about putting people's brains into computers. This was a normal day. No wonder she was screwed up. "How was yours?"
"Brisket. Chopping block. Cleaver. It's all good. You packed yet?"
"Did you just see me walk in?"
"Oh. Yeah. Guess not, then." He parked himself on her bed, flopped out again as she opened up her one battered suitcase and began filling it. That wasn't tough; unlike Eve, she wasn't a clothes fanatic. She had a couple of decent shirts, a bunch of not-so-great ones, and some jeans. She put in her one skirt, along with the shoes that matched it, and the fishnet tights. Shane watched, hands laced behind his head. "You're not going to try to tell me what to take?" she asked. "Because I figured that was why you followed me."
"Do I look crazy? I followed you because your bed is more comfortable." His smile widened. "Wanna see?"
"Not right now."
"Last chance before we hit the road."
"Stop it!"
"Stop what?"
"Looking so ..." She couldn't think of a word. He looked just as ridiculously hot to her now as he had this morning, when it had been so tough to leave. And that was a good thing. "I've got to get stuff out of the bathroom."
"Good luck. I think Eve took everything already except the aftershave." Actually, Eve hadn't; it was just that Claire didn't have a whole lot. Shampoo and conditioner, all in one bottle. A little makeup bag. A razor. She didn't really need a blow-dryer, but if she did, Eve would have packed one--or two. From the size of the suitcase, Eve was planning to take everything she'd ever owned. Back in the bedroom, Claire almost shut her suitcase, then stopped and frowned. "What did you take?" she asked. "For, you know, protection?" Shane lifted himself up on his elbows. "What, like, uh, protection?"
"No!" She felt her face flush, which was pretty ridiculous, considering what they'd done this morning. "I mean, against any vampire things that might happen. You know."
"Stakes in the bottom of the duffel bag," he said. "Brought some extra silver nitrate in bottles, too. We should be okay. It's not as if there's a big vampire problem where we're going." Maybe not, but living in Morganville had made it a reflex. Claire couldn't honestly imagine not planning for it, and she hadn't been raised here, in the hothouse. She was surprised Shane seemed so ... calm. But then, Shane had been outside of Morganville, for two years. And they hadn't been a good two years, either, but at least he knew something about what it was going to be like; more than Michael and Eve, anyway. Claire dug in her underwear drawer, came up with four silver-coated stakes, and dumped them in on top of her clothes. Just in case. Shane gave her a thumbs-up in approval. She slammed the bag shut and locked it, then wrestled it off the bed. It was heavier than she'd expected, and it wasn't one with wheels and a handle. Shane, unasked, slid off the bed and took it from her. He lifted it as if it were the weight of a bag of feathers, went into his room, grabbed his duffel, and headed toward the stairs. As he passed Eve's room he looked in, shook his head, and yelled, "You are totally on your own for that one!" Claire saw why, as she looked in. Eve had closed the