Kiss of Death Page 0,38

green bills. Hundreds. He handed over the entire stack. "I have more," he said. "Take that. It should be enough to buy something serviceable. Make sure it's got sufficient trunk space." After a second's hesitation, Eve's fingers closed around the money. "Oliver? Seriously, are you okay?"

"I will be," he said. "Michael, do you suppose there is another room in this motel I can occupy until we are ready to leave?"

"I'll get one," Michael said. He slipped out the door and was gone in seconds, heading for the office. Oliver closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. He looked so utterly miserable that Claire, without thinking, reached out and, just being kind, put her hand on his arm. "Claire," Oliver said softly, without opening his eyes, "did I give you permission to touch me?" She removed her hand--quickly. "Just--leave me alone. I'm not myself at the moment." Actually, he was pretty much like he always was, as far as Claire could tell, but she let it go. Eve was fanning out the money, counting it. Her eyes were getting wider the higher she went. "Jeez," she whispered. "I could buy a genuine pimped-out land yacht with this. Wow. I had no idea running a coffee shop was this good a job."

"It's not," Shane said. "He probably has piles of gold sitting under his couch cushions. He's had a long time to get rich, Eve."

"And time enough to lose everything, once or twice," Oliver said. "If you want to be technical. I have been rich. I am currently ... not as poor as I once was. But not as wealthy, either. The curse of human wars and politics. It's difficult to keep what you have, especially if you are always an outsider." Claire had never really thought about how vampires got the money they had; she supposed it wouldn't have been easy, really. She remembered all the TV news shows she'd seen, with people running for their lives from war zones, carrying whatever they could. Oliver would have been one of those people, once upon a time. Amelie, too. And Myrnin. Probably more than once. But they'd come through it. They were survivors. "What happened out there?" Claire asked, not really expecting him to answer. He didn't disappoint her. 6 Once Oliver had his own room--room three, of course--at the motel, Claire, Eve, and Shane set out lightproofing the rooms Michael and Oliver would be staying in during the day. That wasn't so hard; the blackout curtains in the windows were pretty good, and a little duct tape around the edges made sure the room stayed dim--that and a DO NOT DISTURB sign on each knob. "Dead bolt and chain," Shane told Michael as the three of them left the room. Dawn was starting to pink up on the eastern horizon. "I'll call when we're at the door again, on your cell. Don't open for anybody else."

"Did you tell that to Oliver?"

"Do I look stupid? Let him figure out his own crap, man." Michael shook his head. "Be careful out there. I don't like sending the three of you out by yourselves."

"Linda's riding shotgun with us," Eve said. "Literally. With an actual, you know, shotgun."

"Actually, Linda's driving us. We said we'd buy her breakfast and haul some heavy stuff for her at the store. Kind of a good deal, plus I think everybody likes her. Nobody's going to come after us while she's with us." It might have been wishful thinking, but Michael seemed a little relieved by it, and he knocked fists with Shane as they closed the door. They heard the bolts click home. "Well," Eve said, "it's the start of a beautiful day in which I have had no sleep, had my car burned, and can't wear makeup, which is just so great." The no-makeup thing was Shane's idea, and Claire had to admit, it was a good one. Eve was, by far, the most recognizable of their little group, but without the rice powder, thick black eyeliner, and funky-colored lipsticks, she looked like a different person. Claire had lent her a less-than-Gothy shirt, although Eve had insisted on purple. With that and plain blue jeans, Eve looked almost... normal. She'd even pulled her hair back in a single ponytail at the back. Not a skull in sight, although her boots still looked a little intimidating. "Think of it as operating in disguise," Shane said. "In a hostile war zone."

"Easy for you to say. All you had