Kiss of Death Page 0,80

stab us in the back."

"I'm not saying he has," Michael said. "I'm just saying he's not here. So we need to be sure that if things go wrong ..." Mrs. Grant rose from her chair, winced, and rubbed at a sore spot on her back. She looked tired, but very focused. "I'll get my men up," she said. "Should have known we couldn't do a whole night without some kind of alert. I just hoped for a miracle."

"How long have you been doing this?" Claire asked. "Fighting them off?"

"It wasn't all at once," the older woman said. "At first we thought the people we couldn't find were just sick--regular human sick. And they were clever at first, good at hiding out, picking off people who weren't paying attention. Like wolves, going after strays. By the time we knew, they came in force and took out most everybody who could have gotten things organized against them. All told, I guess we've been living out of this library for almost three weeks now." She almost smiled, but it was just a bitter twist of her lips, really. "It seems longer. I can hardly remember what it was like before. Blacke used to be a real quiet town; nothing ever happened. Now ..."

"Maybe we can get it back to that quiet town it used to be," Claire said. Mrs. Grant gave her a long look. "Just you and your friends?"

"Hey," Shane said, snapping a shotgun closed with a flick of his wrist. "We're just trying to help."

"And stay alive," Eve added. "But trust me, this is not the worst situation we've ever been in." She sounded confident about that. Claire raised her eyebrows, and Eve considered it for a few more seconds. "Okay, maybe tied for worst. But definitely not the Guinness Record for awfulness." Mrs. Grant looked at each of them in turn, and then just walked away to rouse her own men. "Seriously," Shane said, "this kind of is the worst situation we've ever been in, right?"

"Speak for yourself," Michael said. "I got myself killed last year. Twice."

"Oh yeah. You're right--last year really sucked for you."

"Boys," Eve interrupted, when Michael started to make some smart-ass comeback. "Focus. Dangerous vampire attack imminent. What's the plan?" Michael kissed her lightly on the lips, and his eyes turned vampire-bright. "Don't lose."

"It's simple, yet effective. I like it." Shane extended his fist, and Michael bumped it. "I am never taking a trip with either of you ever again." Eve said. "Ever."

"Excellent," Shane said. "Then next trip, we hit the strip bar."

"I have a gun, Shane." Eve sighed. "What, you think I actually loaded yours?" Eve flipped him off, and Claire laughed. Even now, things just stayed normal, somehow.

An hour passed, and nothing happened. Eve got anxious about Jason's absence, but Claire was starting to feel a little confident that nothing would happen tonight at the library, as the minutes clicked by and the night around the library continued quiet, with nothing but the wind stirring outside in the streets. And then the walkie-talkie Mrs. Grant had given her squawked for attention, making her jump. Claire figured it would be Shane; he'd stationed himself on the other side of the building, apparently because she was so distracting (which really didn't disappoint her, when she thought about it). But it wasn't Shane. It was Eve. "I'm coming out," she said. She sounded breathless and worried. "You need to see this."

"I'm here," Claire said. "Be careful." In under a minute, Eve was beside her, holding out an open cell phone. Not hers--this one, for instance, didn't have all the usual glow-in-the-dark skulls on it. Eve wouldn't have a boring cell like this one. Oh yeah. It was the one Oliver had slipped into her pocket on the bus. The only one they had now, since the rest were probably still dumped in a drawer back in the Durram police station. There was a text message on the phone. Wounded, it said. Bring help. Garage. It was from Oliver. And that was it. Just the four words. Claire had gotten the occasional phone call from Oliver, but never a text. "Oliver texted me," Eve said. "I mean really. Oliver texted. That's weird, right? Who knew he could?"

"Mrs. Grant said the cell phones didn't work here."

"No, she said they went out. This one's working. Kinda, anyway."

"Michael!" Claire called, and he jumped down from the top of a bookshelf next to the window to land next to her, barely seeming to