Kiss of Death Page 0,47

get out of this, you know. I'm just putting that on the table." He was talking about not going back; about leaving Morganville. She'd been contemplating it, and she knew he had, too. "I--I can't, Shane. My parents ..." He bent his head closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Do you really think they want you to be there? Risking your life, every day? Don't you think they want you out, and safe?"

"I can't, Shane. I just can't. I'm sorry." Shane was silent a moment, then let out a long breath. "I bet I could convince you if I could get through these bars...."

"You'd get arrested all over again."

"Well, you're just that tempting. Jailbait." He kissed her fingers, which made her shiver all over; his lips lingered warm on her skin, reminding her of what it felt like to be alone with him, in that timeless, special silence. "Not a lot we can do until--" He stopped, then, frowning, looked over at the barred door that led into the sheriff's office. "Did you hear that?"

"What?" Even as she asked it, Claire heard the growl of an engine outside--a big one. It had to be some kind of truck, maybe, but not just a pickup--a big delivery van, or an eighteen wheeler. The brakes sighed, and the roar of the engine cut out. "I guess they're getting some sort of delivery, maybe?" Maybe, but somehow, Claire didn't think so. She had a bad feeling. From the way Shane was staring at the jail door--which wasn't telling them anything--he was feeling the same thing. And then in the outer office, glass crashed, someone yelled, and Claire heard laughter. Then more crashing. More yelling. Shane let go of her. "Claire, Eve--get to the back of the cell." When they hesitated, he snapped, "Just go!" They did it, not that there was anywhere in particular to go, or to hide. They sat together on one of the two small cots, close together, watching the jail door to see what would come through. What came through wasn't Oliver. It wasn't even Michael. It was Morley, the vampire from Morganville, in all his homeless-bum glory. He was dressed in layers of threadbare clothes, and he had a large, floppy black hat on his head over his straggly graying hair. He looked at the bars on the jail cell door, sneered, and snapped the whole thing off its hinges with a heave. He tossed the iron aside as if it weighed next to nothing. Morley stepped through the open space, surveyed the three of them, and swept off his hat in a low, mocking bow. He was good at the bowing thing. Claire supposed he'd probably had a lot of practice. He seemed old enough to have lived in a time when bowing well got you somewhere. "Like lobsters in a tank," he said. "I know we agreed you'd give up your blood to me, but really, this is just too easy." He smiled. With fangs. Claire got up and walked toward the bars. She didn't like letting Morley--or any vampire-- see she was afraid of him; from working with Myrnin in his crazy days--crazier?--she'd realized that showing fear was an invitation to them. One they found really hard to resist. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Because for a confusing few seconds, she thought that maybe Oliver had teamed up with Morley to rescue them. But that was flat-out impossible. The idea of Oliver and Morley ever being able to have a civilized conversation, much less actually work together, was completely ridiculous. "You're not supposed to leave Morganville!"

"Ah, yes. Amelie's rules." He said that last word with a lot of relish, and there was a muddy red flare in his eyes to match. "Poor, dear Amelie is operating at a disadvantage these days. Rumors said she was unable to keep the boundaries of the town in quite the same condition they had been. I decided to test the theory, and behold. I am free." That was really, really not a good thing. Claire didn't know a whole lot about Morley, but she knew he tended more to the bad-old-days model of vampire--take what you want, when you want, and don't care about the consequences. The opposite of how Amelie--and even Oliver --ran things. To Morley, people were just blood bags that could talk--and sometimes outrun him, which only made it more exciting. "They'll come after you," Claire said. "Amelie's people. You know that."

"And