Текст книги "Kiss of Death"
Автор книги: Rachel Caine
Соавторы: Rachel Caine
Жанр:
Городское фэнтези
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
Something pale and very fast flashed through the doorway, and suddenly another vampire was there—Patience Goldman, with her slender hand wrapped around Morley’s wrist. She was a dark-haired young woman, pretty, with big dark eyes and skin that would have probably been olive had she still been alive. It added a honey undertone to her pallor.
“No,” Patience said. Claire had met her—and the entire Goldman family—more than once. She liked them, actually. For vampires, they had real concern for other people-as demonstrated by Patience’s trying to keep Morley from killing the sheriff. “There’s no need for this.”
Morley looked offended, and shoved her back with his free hand. “Do notlay hands on me, woman! This is none of your concern.”
“We came to—get supplies,” Patience said. She seemed uncomfortable with that, and Claire immediately realized that supplieswas code for people-toeat. “We have what we need. Let’s go. The longer we delay, the more attention we attract. It’s unnecessary risk!”
Patience and Jacob, her brother, had been hanging out with Morley for a while, and they’d wanted to break out of Morganville, and their parents’ restrictions—Theo Goldman was a good guy, but kind of strict, as far as his family went, or at least that had been Claire’s impression. Claire could easily believe that Morley had convinced Patience and Jacob to come along, since he was leaving, anyway, but she also didn’t believe they’d go along with killing people.
Not unnecessarily, anyway. Vampires in general were a little shaky on the details of morality in that area—a hazard of being top predator, Claire guessed.
“Hmmm,” Morley said, and turned his gaze back to the sheriff. “She does have a point. Fortunately for you.” He released the man, who slammed back against the wall, looking sick and shaky. “Stay. If you move, speak, or in any way irritate me, I’ll snap your neck.”
The sheriff froze in place, clearly taking it all very seriously. Claire didn’t really blame him. She remembered her first encounter with vampires, her first realization that the world wasn’t the neatly ordered place she’d always been told it was. It could really mess up your head.
In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure hers had ever recovered, come to think of it.
She was just starting to relax when Morley reached out and grabbed her and Eve by the arms. When Shane yelled a protest, Morley squeezed, and Claire felt agony shoot in a white bolt up her arm. Yeah, that was almostbroken.
“Don’t cause a fuss, boy, or I’ll be forced to shatter bones,” Morley said. “The girls come with us. If you want to run, you may. I won’t stop you.”
Like Shane would. Or even could,being Shane. He fixed Morley with a bleak, grim stare and said, “You take them, I’m coming, too.”
“How gentlemanly of you,” Morley said, smiling. “I believe I already told you how I feel about gentlemen.But suit yourself.”
He hustled Claire and Eve out into the open room that was the police bullpen. Desks had been shoved around, papers littered the floor, and Deputy Tom was lying half hidden behind one of the chairs. Claire was glad she couldn’t really see him. She hoped he was just... knocked out.
Somehow, though, she really didn’t think so.
Shane followed behind Morley. Patience walked next to him, but she didn’t try to touch him—which was probably smart, given the fiery look in Shane’s eyes. His muscles were tight, his hands bunched into fists, and the only thing holding him back from punching Morley was the certain knowledge that it would be Claire and Eve who’d get hurt.
Morley shoved open the glass outer door with a booted foot, and glanced up at the blazing sun. “Quickly, if you please,” he said, and dragged Eve and Claire across the open ground at a stumbling run to an idling bus.
It was an old passenger bus, with darkened windows, and the next thing she knew, Claire was being shoved up the steep, narrow steps ahead of Morley, with Eve being dragged along behind him. It was dark inside, with only a few overhead reading lights on to show her the interior. There were worn, fraying velvet seats, and in almost every one sat a vampire, at least in the front two-thirds of the bus.
In the back were mostly humans—tied up, gagged, and looking desperate. There were no Morganville residents, at least that Claire could spot offhand, but she saw two immediately familiar faces—Orange Cap and Angry Guy, from the diner, who’d trashed Eve’s car. The sheriff had said they’d disappeared; she’d assumed they were dead, like their friend who’d been left with his pickup truck.
Morley had grabbed them. Claire thought that the other one, the one who’d died, had been more of an accident than deliberate murder, although maybe he’d done something to make Morley angry, too. There was no way to tell, really.
The two bullies weren’t looking quite so in control now. Their eyes were wide, their noses were running, and they kept wrestling against the ties that held them in place.
“Friends of yours?” Morley asked, seeing her expression. “I’ll see if I can seat you in the same section. Aisle or window?” He shoved Eve into a seat next to a window, across from Orange Cap, and then slung Claire into the empty chair beside her, on the aisle. Then he turned to Shane.
Shane sat down silently in the chair in front of Claire. Patience, watching this, bit her lip and shook her head, but when Morley snapped the orders, she broke out some plastic cable ties and fastened Claire and Eve to the seats, then turned to Shane.
“I’m sorry for this,” she said softly. “You should have gone. Gotten help. I would have made sure no harm came to them.”
“I don’t trust their lives to anybody but me,” he said. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Patience said with a sigh. “But Morley will require you to provide blood. He’s promised not to drain any of our captives, but I’m sure you understand his temper. Resistance would not be wise.”
Shane shuddered and looked away. He didn’t like giving blood, even at the Bloodmobile or the blood bank, and that was a lot more removed from having a vampire taking it, no matter whether they used medical equipment or went the old-fashioned way. Claire wasn’t too cool with it herself, and she knew Eve well enough to know she’d fight it, hard.
“Let us go,” Claire blurted. Morley had wandered away toward the front of the bus now, talking to someone else, and Patience was leaning over her, checking her bonds, which were very tight. “Patience, please. You know this isn’t right. Just let us go.”
“I can’t do that.”
“But—”
“I can’t,”Patience said, with soft but unyielding emphasis. “Please don’t ask again.”
She straightened and walked away without another glance, leaving them in the back, pinned like the other UnHappy Meals. At least she hadn’t gagged them. Claire supposed she would, if they started screaming. Note to self: don’t scream.Good advice.
Shane twisted around in his seat to peer at her over the top of the seat. “Hey,” he whispered. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Eve?”
Eve was fuming, her cheeks bright, her eyes hot with fury. “Fine,” she snapped, biting off the word and leaving a sharp, broken silence. After a second, she softened a little. “Pissed off. Reallypissed off. What kind of stupid trip is this? So far, I’ve been assaulted, insulted, arrested, and now I’m tied to a chair by a bunch of vampires in case they crave a little O negative at lunch. And my boyfriend is out there somewhere, dodging sunbeams. This sucks!”
“Ah—” Claire didn’t quite know how to answer that. She looked at Shane, who shrugged. “He’ll be okay.”
“I know,” Eve said with a sigh. “I’m just—I need him right now, you know? Shane was all gallant and came with you. I feel... abandoned, that’s all.”
“You’re not abandoned,” Shane said. “Dude, don’t bag on Michael. It’s a whole different problem when you’re flammable.”
Eve turned her face away, toward the window, and said, “I know. I’m just—Gah, seriously, I hatebeing helpless! We have to do something,” she said. “We have to get out of this.”
But, as Morley dropped into the driver’s seat of the bus, slammed the doors closed, and put the beast in gear, Claire wasn’t at all sure what options they really had. Morley wasn’t interested in bargains, and they had nothing to trade, anyway. No way they could threaten him, not even with Amelie; he’d already given Amelie the finger on his way out of Morganville, and he clearly wasn’t worried about her coming after him—or, if so, what would happen when she did. Claire didn’t have anything else in her bag of tricks; nothing at all.
“Wait it out,” Shane said, as though he knew what she was thinking—and he probably did, actually. He was starting to get really good at that. “Just wait and watch. Something will happen. We just need to be ready to move when it does.”
“Fantastic,” Eve muttered sourly. “Waiting. My favorite. Next to skinny-dipping in acid and having vampires suck my blood. ”
“Sorry,” Shane said to Claire.
“For what?”
“That you’re sitting next to Little Miss Sunshine. It’s not going to be a fun trip.”
He was right about that. It wasn’t.
8
Eve mostly sat in silence, but she was just crackling with anger. Claire could feel it coming off her like static electricity. She wasn’t cooling off anytime soon, either; Claire thought she was being angry to keep from being scared, which wasn’t a bad choice. Being scared under these circumstances wasn’t going to get them anywhere. It certainly hadn’t helped Orange Cap and Angry Guy much, or the five other people Claire could spot who were bound and gagged, waiting for a vamp to get hungry.
She saw it happen once, but in the medically approved way; Jacob Goldman—Patience’s vampire brother, and under other circumstances kind of an okay guy—had fixed somebody up with a tourniquet and drawn out about ten tubes of blood from one of the men sitting two rows up. He was good at it. Theo, his dad and a doctor, had probably taught him how to do it. She supposed there was one advantage to having a vampire draw your blood—he wasn’t likely to miss a vein and have to try again.
Jacob looked unhappy about what he was doing, and at the end, even patted his victim on the shoulder in a gentle, reassuring way. Claire half expected him to hand over a lollipop-although since the man was gagged, that probably wouldn’t make much sense.
“Not happening,” Eve whispered next to her. “No, not happening. This cannot be happening.Where the hell is Oliver? Isn’t he supposed to be our chaperone?”
Claire didn’t know and couldn’t begin to reassure Eve, because there was a creeping sense of doom coming over her, too. Michael wasn’t showing up, and neither was Oliver, and that had to be bad. It just had to be, somehow. Oliver, at least, could stand the sun; she’d seen him outside the jail before Morley had made his dramatic entrance. So why wasn’t he stepping in?
Because you’re not important,Claire’s little, traitorous voice whispered. Because you’re just human. Fast food on legs.
No, that wasn’t true. Even Oliver had treated them—well, not exactly nicely,but he had developed a kind of basic respect for them. Maybe, in Eve’s case, even a little liking.
He wouldn’t just stand by and watch things happen.
Unless he thought he couldn’t win,the little voice responded, and ugh, the little voice was way too logical for Claire to argue with. Oliver wasn’t the self-sacrificing type, except maybe—maybe—whereit applied to Amelie—and only in little glimpses.
But Michael was, and Michael would have shown up unless something had stopped him.
Or someone.
Claire cleared her throat. “Jacob? Can I ask you something?”
Jacob slipped the blood vials into a pocket of his jacket and came back down the aisle of the bus. He swayed gracefully with the motion of the road, not even bothering to check his balance against the tops of the seats, the way a human probably would have. He crouched down next to Claire, bringing them to eye level.
“I’m so sorry,” he said immediately. “This was not what we’d planned. We never intended to do it this way, but we couldn’t get to either the blood bank or the Bloodmobile—they were both well guarded. We had to choose—leave without supplies, or ...”
“Or pick them up at the convenience store?” Claire tried to keep the judgy tone out of her voice, but it was hard. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
Jacob nodded, waiting.
“Have you seen Michael?”
Jacob’s eyes widened. “No,” he said, and he was an even worse liar than Claire expected. “No, did he come with you?”
“Jacob, you know he did.” Claire said it softly, and hoped that Eve couldn’t hear what she was saying. “Did something happen to him?”
Jacob stared at her for a few long, sick seconds, then said, “I don’t know.”
He stood up and walked away. Claire bit her tongue on an almost-overpowering urge to yell something after him; it probably would have just gotten her gagged, anyway.
Shane was turned in his seat, as much as his bonds would allow, and he was staring at her. He knew, too.
Claire risked a glance over at Eve, but she was staring out the window. Not crying, not anymore. She just looked... distant, as if she’d removed herself from everything happening around her.
Shane was right. There was nothing to be done now except wait.
Claire was bad at it, but she spent the time trying to think through the problem. What would Myrnin do? Probably invent some device made out of fingernails and coat threads that would cut through plastic handcuffs. Then again, Myrnin would be cheerfully chugging down the blood, so maybe he was not such a good example to follow. Sam. What would Michael’s grandfather have done? Still a vampire, but he’d never have gone along with this stuff. He’d have stood up for people. He had his whole life, both as a human and a vampire.
And he’d have never been handcuffed to a seat, genius,Claire’s little voice reminded her. How about Hannah Moses? Thatwas a good suggestion, for once. Claire couldn’t imagine how Hannah, who’d been a big-time soldier, would have gotten out of this, but it probably would have involved a concealed knife—which, of course, Claire didn’t have.
The steady throb of the road was hypnotic, and since the windows were blacked out, there wasn’t much to see out there except some passing shadows. The vampires were mostly whispering among themselves, and she could feel their suppressed excitement. It was strange, but the vampires seemed to feel they’d been prisoners in Morganville, too—mostly prisoners of its strict rules of conduct, but Claire knew they hadn’t been allowed out of town freely any more than the human residents.
It was odd that the vampireswould now be feeling that same freedom that she, Eve, Michael, and Shane had felt leaving the town borders. It seemed ... wrong.
“Eve?” Claire tried bumping Eve’s shoulder with her own. She did it often enough to finally pull Eve out of her staring trance and get her attention. “Hey. How you doing?”
“Fantastic,” Eve said. “Adventure of a lifetime.” She dropped her head back against the seat’s built-in pillow and closed her eyes. “Wake me for the massacre, okay? Don’t want to miss it.”
Claire had no idea what to say to that, so she just settled her own head back, closing her eyes, too. The road hiss became a kind of white noise in her head, and then ...
She was asleep.
When she woke up, the bus was pulling to a stop. Claire flinched, tried to lift her arms, and immediately was reminded that plastic handcuffs hurtas they cut into her skin. She took a deep breath and relaxed, deliberately, looking around. Eve was awake, too, her dark eyes narrow and glittering in the dimness. In the row ahead, Claire could see the back of Shane’s head as he tried to make sense of whatever was outside the window.
“Where are we?” Claire asked. Shane’s head shook.
“No idea,” he said. “Can’t really see a whole lot. It looks like maybe some little town, but I can’t tell.”
“They don’t need more, uh, supplies. No empty seats.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Shane said. There was nothing in his voice, but Claire knew he was feeling just as worried as she was about this development.
Morley brought the bus to a stop with a hiss of air brakes and a lurch, then opened the door and descended the steps. It was still daylight out there; the light spilling in from the opened accordion doors was milky white and intense.
None of the other vampires tried to follow. They just waited. Morley came back, stood at the front of the bus, and grinned. “Brothers and sisters,” he said, “I have stopped for gas. Feel free to snack while I attend to the fuel.”
“Oh no,” Eve whispered. “No no no.”
Claire tried to get her hands free, again. The plastic handcuffs cut deep, almost drawing blood, and she had to stop; the smell of blood wouldn’t be a good thing, just now.
The vampires were turning to look at those in the back of the bus, and their eyes were glowing.
Patience and Jacob Goldman weren’t among them. They were closer to the back, and they had their heads bent together, whispering. Patience seemed upset at something Jacob was saying, but he was insistent, and as the first vampire got up to get his snack, Jacob suddenly flashed out of his seat and stood in the way.
The vampire was a woman, nobody Claire had ever met; she looked older, and not very nice. She also didn’t like Jacob’s getting in her face, and she said something in a language Claire didn’t recognize. Jacob must have, because he spouted something right back.
Patience finally got out of her seat and stood nearby, clearly backing him up.
Jacob reached into his pocket and handed over two blood vials. He switched to English to say, “This will hold you for now. There’s no need for anyone to be killed, and you know what will happen if we allow feeding in here. Take it and sit down.”
“Who do you think you are, Amelie?”The woman bared her fangs in a mocking laugh. “I left Morganville to escape these stupid rules. Give me what I want, or I’ll take it.”
“The rules are not stupid,” Patience said. “The rules are sensible. If you want to alert humans to our presence and restart the bad old times, the times when we ran for our lives, owned nothing, werenothing—then wait until we have reached our destination. You can go off on your own and do what you will. But while Jacob and I are here, you will notfeed directly from these people. I will not see them dead because you can’t control yourself.”
She sounded absolutely sure about what she was doing, and very matter-of-fact, as if only an idiot would argue with her. The other vampire frowned, thought about it, and then made a sound of frustration. She grabbed two vials from Jacob’s outstretched hand. “I’ll expect more,” she snapped. “You’d better start draining them. You have a lot of mouths to feed.”
Jacob ignored her. “Who else? I can give out four more....”
Four more vampires got up and accepted the vials. Jacob took out his medical kit and handed it to Patience. “I’ll stay here,” he said. “Draw the blood.”
“Yeah, don’t make any of them short ! one of the other vampires called, and there was a ripple of laughter.
“Enough,” Jacob said, and there was a hint of relaxed humor in his voice. “You’ll all get what you want. Just not now. And not here.”
He looked over his shoulder at Patience, who was strapping a tourniquet around the first human she’d found—a woman, this time. There was a little resistance, but not much, and Patience proved herself to be just as good at drawing blood as her brother. She filled ten more vials, which she handed over to Jacob for distribution as she moved on to the next donor.
So it went, even after Morley came back inside after fueling up the bus. He saw what was going on, and shook his head. “You can take the vampire out of Morganville ... ,” he said, and left the rest unsaid as he dropped into the driver’s seat. “Right, young ones, bloodbath later. First, we drive.”
Claire half hoped that the vamps would be done with lunch before Patience worked her way back to her row, but no such luck. However, she turned left, and started with Angry Guy, whose bug eyes and muffled shrieks seemed to make no impression on her at all. She did the blood draw quickly and easily, pocketed the vials, and moved on to Orange Cap, who’d lost his cap now and was crying wet, messy tears. His nose was dripping, too.
When Patience was finished tapping him, she turned to Claire. She looked at her for a long moment, then said, “I will not take your blood. Nor that of your friends. Not yet.”
Next to Claire, Eve let out a little sigh of relief. Shane, who’d been sitting tensely in the row ahead, relaxed as well.
Claire didn’t. “Why?”
“Because—we owe you a favor, I think. Let this be payment.” She started to move on to the next row.
“Wait,” Claire said. Patience’s dark, strange eyes returned to her face. “They’re going to kill us all. You don’t want that, you and Jacob.”
“Jacob and I are outnumbered,” Patience said softly. “I am sorry, but there is little we can do more than we are doing now. Forgive me.”
“There has to be something—” Claire bit her lip. Eve was paying attention now, and Shane, although Claire was trying to keep the whole conversation to a whisper. “Can’t you maybe let us loose? We promise, we won’t tell Morley.”
“Child, you have no idea what you’re saying,” Patience said, a little sadly. “He’ll catch you, and then Morley will find out what he wants to find out. He has no reason not to rip this information from you, and it would be suspicious enough that I haven’t drawn blood. He already thinks Jacob and I are too weak. You put us at risk, as well as yourselves.”
“So what’s our choice?” Eve hissed, leaning over as far as she could. “Getting fanged to death? No, thank you. Pass. If I’d wanted that kind of gruesome, horrible horror-movie ending, I could have stood on a street corner in Morganville and saved myself the trouble!”
Patience looked even more uncomfortable. “I can’t help you,” she said again. “I’m sorry.”
That was her final answer, apparently. Claire watched her continue on with her blood work, apparently satisfied that she’d done her good deed for the day.
“We’re screwed,” Shane said, in a matter-of-fact voice, and turned back, face forward. “Still want to go back to Morganville? Because every day is pretty much just like this, one way or another.”
Eve sighed, slumped against the window, and looked as if she was close, again, to bursting into tears. She didn’t. Claire almost wished she would. It wasn’t like Eve, all this nervous anger. It made hernervous, and the last thing she needed right now was more to raise her pulse rate.
“Michael will find us,” Eve said. “They’ll come for us.”
Claire wished she felt that sure about it.
* * *
Patience and Jacob distributed all of the collected blood, two vials per vampire, and gave the rest to Morley, who chugged it back like shots at happy hour. It was disgusting, watching all the vampires having their snack; Claire’s stomach turned, and she found it was easier staring down at her feet than actually paying attention.
Some of the blood donors had actually passed out, though whether that was just sleep, low blood pressure, or panic, Claire wasn’t sure. It was quieter, at least. Morley kept driving, and it seemed like hours before he slowed the bus again. He didn’t stop, just geared down and beckoned to a vampire sitting behind him. The vampire nodded, pointed to three others, and gestured for them to follow.
“What’s going on?” Shane asked. “Can you tell?”
“No,” Claire said, and then gasped as Morley opened the bus doors. The bus was still rolling along at maybe thirty-five or forty miles an hour. The four vampires up front put on coats, hats, gloves-sunny-day wear—and lined up on the stairs.
One by one, they bailed out.
“What the hell?” Shane twisted around awkwardly to the limit of his ability. “Eve, can you see anything? What’s going on?”
“I can’t—wait, I think—” Eve squinted, leaned her head against the window, and finally continued. “I think they’re going after something behind us. A car, maybe.”
Four vampires had just bailed out of a moving bus, in broad daylight, to attack a car that was behind them. Following them?
Claire gasped as an electric shock zipped up her spine. Michael. Oliver. It had to be! They’d figured it out. They were right behind them.
Yeah,her tragic, pessimistic little voice said in her head. They’re right behind us, and four vampires are about to drag them out of the car and leave them to fry.
“Can you see—” Claire’s voice was shaking now. Eve didn’t answer. “Eve!”
“I’m trying!” Eve snapped. “It’s all just shadows out there, okay? I can barely tell there’s a car! Oh no ...”
“What?” She and Shane blurted it out together, leaning toward Eve as if somehow they could make things out any better.
“The car,” Eve said. “I think—I think it crashed. It’s not behind us now.” She sounded dull again; defeated. “It’s gone.”
“Dammit,” Shane said. “Probably was some farmer driving to market. Didn’t have anything to do with all this crap.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” Eve whispered. “They’re not coming now.”
She began to cry, producing wrenching sobs that made her whole body vibrate, and banged her forehead against the window glass—hard. Claire instinctively tried to reach out for her, and came up against her restraints, again. “Hey,” she said, trying hard to sound compassionate and soothing. Her heart just ached for Eve, who sounded so ... lost. “Eve, please don’t. Please don’t do that. It’s going to be okay; it’s all—”
“No, it’s not!” Eve screamed, and turned toward Claire in a tearful fury. “It’s not okay! Michael! Michael!”
She started thrashing against her restraints. Shane tried to calm her down, too, but Eve wasn’t listening anymore—not to anybody.
Patience came and, with a sad but determined look at Claire, leaned over and gave Eve a quick injection in her shoulder. It was so fast Claire couldn’t react to try to stop her, and Eve stopped thrashing to say, in blank surprise, “Ow!”
Then her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went completely limp in her chair, her head tilting toward the window, wild strands of hair covering her face.
“What did you do?” Claire demanded, and tried not to scream it. She’d just seen what screaming got you.
“She’ll sleep,” Patience said. “She’s not injured. It’s better this way. She could hurt herself, otherwise.”
“Yeah, can’t have that,” Shane said bitterly. “Gotta save that for you guys. What was that, with the vamps getting off the bus?”
Patience put the cap back on the needle she’d used to inject Eve and put it in her pocket. “Someone was following,” she said. “They’re not now. That’s all you need to know.” The bus changed its pitch again, air brakes sighing, and slowed to a relative crawl. The doors banged open again, and two vampires got on, wearing hats and gloves and long coats against the sun.
One of them was smoking, even with all the protective gear.
The other one, a little taller and thinner, grabbed Morley by the neck, dragged him out of the driver’s seat, and tossed him right out the door.
“Go!” he shouted, and stripped off his hat.
The tall one was Oliver.
Michael—who was the incoming vampire trailing wisps of smoke—raced down the aisle, slammed into Patience and Jacob, and knocked them out of the way. Nobody else had time to stand up, although a few vampires lunged and caught pieces of his coat as he ran toward the back of the bus. Oliver was right behind him, and as they reached the rows where the humans were, Oliver turned and snarled at the other vampires, who were starting to get to their feet. They were hampered by close quarters, but there were a lot of them.
Jacob bounded up, gave Oliver a second’s dark look, and then jumped up on top of the headrest of the seat next to him, crouching like a bird of prey. Patience did the same on Oliver’s other side.
“No,” she said flatly, as the vampires started to move toward them. “Stay where you are.”
Michael reached them and snapped Claire’s bonds first. It took him a precious few seconds, because the plastic was tougher than he’d thought, and he had to try not to hurt her. As soon as she was free, he leaned over Eve and pushed out the side window with one powerful punch. Metal bent and shrieked, glass shattered, and the whole window assembly fell out onto the road.
Light streamed in, pure and white-hot, and hit him full in the face. Michael jerked back into the shadows with a choked cry. Claire had a blurred impression of burns, but he didn’t give her time to worry about him. “Out!” he yelled, and grabbed her by the waist to boost her toward the window. The inch of skin exposed between his coat and gloves sizzled like frying bacon. Claire grabbed hold of the jagged edge of the window and looked down. The bus was still rolling, and it was picking up speed as it started down the hill. “Claire, jump!”
She didn’t really have a choice.
Claire jumped, hit the hard pavement with a stunning thump, and rolled. She managed to protect her head and curled up in a ball on the white-hot surface.
The bus kept on rolling. She could hear screaming—and fighting. Another window broke, next to Shane.
“Come on,” Claire whispered, and clambered to her feet. She hurt all over, and her ankle felt as if she’d sprained it, but that didn’t matter right now.
She watched the bus.
Nobody came out the window.
Claire started to run after the bus—limped after it—and had to stop when her ankle folded under her after a dozen steps. “Shane!” she screamed. “Shane, come on! Get out!”
Her attention was completely fixed on the bus, but she had good survival instincts, thanks to Morganville’s harsh training; she sensed a shadow behind her, and dropped just in time.
Morley. He was baking in the blazing day—not sizzling like Michael, but definitely turning toxic-sunburn red. And he was angry. His hand blurred through space where she’d been, and if she’d been in the way, he would have broken her neck. She rolled and stumbled back to her feet, felt the left one give way again, and hopped backward.
Morley gave her a feral, awful grin. “Nobody leaves the tour,” he said. “Especially not you, little girl. Amelie wants you back. I’m certain of that. You’re my insurance. No fair limping off on your own.”