“Yeah, Jason.’” Hess cleared his throat, glanced at Claire, and continued. “We found Karla Gast late last night. Well, actually, some of our more night-inclined colleagues found her. Dumped in a vacant lot about six blocks from here behind some piled-up lumber.’”
In a flash, Claire remembered walking past the empty lot on her way to her unintended visit with Amelie. She’d even smelled decay. She put her coffee cup down and put both hands over her mouth, fighting an impulse to gag.
“You think—’” Eve looked tense and pale. She licked her lips, swallowed, and continued. “You think Jason was involved.’”
“Yeah,’” Hess said softly. “We think. No proof, though. No witnesses, no forensic evidence, but she was definitely not killed by a vampire. Look, Jason’s been spotted in the area, so I don’t want you out there by yourself for now, okay? Either one of you.’”
“He’s my brother!’” Eve sounded angry now, voice shaking. “How could he do this? What kind of—of—’”
“It’s not your fault,’” Lowe said. “You tried to get him help. He just got sicker.’”
“It is my fault!’” she shouted. “I’m the one who turned him in! I’m the one who didn’t stop Brandon from—’”
“From what?’” Lowe asked, very quietly.
Eve didn’t answer. She looked down at her black-painted fingernails, and picked at them restlessly.
“From moving on to an easier target,’” she said. “Once I made sure he couldn’t get to me.’”
“Christ,’” Lowe muttered in weary disgust. “Someday, that goddamn vamp’s going to get his—’”
“Trav,’” Hess said. “It ain’t laundry day. Let’s not air it in public.’”
“Yeah, I know, but Jesus Christ, Joe, it ain’t like this is the first time….’”
It took Claire a few seconds to work out what they were all talking about, but then she remembered Eve’s poetry that she’d looked through on the computer…all romantic Aren’t vampires great? stuff until she was about fifteen, and then…no more romance. Brandon. Brandon tried to mess with her when she was fifteen.
And Jason was her younger brother.
“What did he do to him?’” Claire asked in a very small voice. “Brandon, I mean. Did he—bite him?’”
Eve didn’t look up, but her cheeks went pink to match her robe. “Sometimes,’” she said. “And sometimes it was worse than that. We’re just toys to him, you know. Dolls. We’re not real. People aren’t real at all.’”
“I’m afraid the same goes for Jason now,’” Hess said. “Can’t really blame the kid. He didn’t have much of a chance. But I repeat, Eve, you can’t blame yourself, either. You saved yourself, and that’s important.’”
“Yeah, I saved myself by screwing over my brother. What a hero.’”
“You be careful with all that guilt,’” Lowe said. “It’ll pound you down. Your parents were the ones who should have stepped in, and you know it. Anybody willing to let their kids become toys, just to get ahead…’”
Claire reached out and took hold of Eve’s hand. Eve, surprised, looked up—she wasn’t crying, which was kind of surprising because Eve cried a lot. Her eyes were dry, clear, and hard. Angry.
“Why do you think I left?’” she asked. “As soon as I could. Between my parents and what Brandon made out of Jason…’”
Claire couldn’t think of anything to say. She just sat there, holding Eve’s hand. She’d never been through any of that…. She’d grown up warm and safe in a house where her parents loved her. In a town where there were no such things as vampires, where child abuse and molestation were something that happened on the evening news, and if anybody had brothers who killed people, it happened in big cities, to people she didn’t know.
All this was just…too much to take in. And much too painful.
“It’s going to be okay,’” she finally said. Eve smiled at her sadly, but her eyes were still fierce.
“No,’” she said. “Don’t think so, Claire. But thanks.’”
She took a deep breath, let go of Claire’s hand, and turned back to the two cops. “Right. You guys hang out here while I get dressed.’”
“Oh, sure,’” Hess said, and raised an eyebrow. It made his face look crooked, but maybe that was just the way his nose was; Claire wasn’t sure. “Not like we’re protecting or serving or anything.’”
“You’re not even on duty,’” Eve said.
“Busted,’” Lowe said, smiling. “We’re on our own for this. Hurry up, kid—I’d like to get to sleep sometime today before I have to fight for truth and justice again.’”
Eve padded up the stairs, one hand on the railing, and Claire let out a slow, careful breath. Eve was kind of like an unexploded bomb right now. Claire ached to make it all better, but there was no way she could do that…and no way that Eve would even let her try, she thought.
She wished Shane would wake up. She needed…well, something. A hug, maybe. Or one of those deliciously warm kisses. Or just to look at him, all rumpled and grumpy with his hair sticking up at odd angles, sheet creases on his face, his bare feet looking so cute and soft…
She had never thought of a guy’s feet as sexy before. Not even movie-star feet. But Shane…there was no part of him that wasn’t sizzle hot.
“More coffee?’” Hess asked, and waggled his empty mug. Claire sighed and took his and Lowe’s into the kitchen for refills.
She had just set the two ceramic cups down on the counter, and was reaching for the coffeepot, when a big, thick, sweaty hand closed over her mouth, and irresistibly strong arms yanked her backward. She tried to scream, and kicked, but whoever had her, really had her. She squirmed, but it didn’t do any good.
“Quiet,’” a rough male voice whispered in her ear. “Shut up, or this gets ugly.’”
It was already ugly, at least from Claire’s terrified side of things. She went still, and the man holding her lowered her down enough to let her sneakered toes touch the floor. Didn’t let her go, though.
She’d already figured out who it was—the speaker, not the one holding her—before Shane’s dad stepped out into her view and leaned forward, scary-close. “Where’s my son?’” he asked. His breath was nasty, and stank of booze. Breakfast of Collins champions. “Just nod. Is he in the house?’” She nodded slowly. The hand muffling her mouth let her do it. “Upstairs?’” She nodded again. “Those cops in the living room?’” She nodded vigorously, and tried to think what she could do to get Detective Hess’s attention. Screaming wasn’t doing any good; the kitchen door was pretty solid, and it was useless to try to get sound past a hand that was about two inches thick. If they’d grabbed her when she was holding the mugs, at least she could have dropped them….
“My kid likes you,’” Shane’s dad said. “That’s all that keeps you alive right now, you get me? So don’t push your luck. I could always change my mind, and you could get buried out back with your little friend Michael. Now, my buddy here is going to let go of your mouth, and you’d better not scream, because if you do, we’re just going to have to do some killing, starting with you and ending with the cops. And that vampire-wannabe girlfriend of yours. You get me? My son is all that matters to me.’”
Claire swallowed hard and nodded again. The hand pulled slowly away from her mouth.
She didn’t scream. She pressed her lips together to hold in the urge.
“Good girl,’” Shane’s dad said. “Now tell me what the cops are doing here. They looking for us?’”
She shook her head. “They think you’re gone,’” she said. “They’re here to take me and Eve to school.’”
“School.’” He poured contempt into the word. “That’s not a school. It’s a holding pen for cattle.’”
She licked her lips and tasted the sweat of the guy who was holding her. Disgusting. “You need to go. Right now.’”
“Or?’”
“You can’t do what you’re here to do if everybody’s still looking for you,’” she said. She was making it up, but suddenly it made sense to her. “If you have to kill me, and everybody here, they turn the town upside down until they find you. And they’ll put Shane in jail, or worse. If you let me go and take Shane, I’ll just tell them everything anyway, and they turn the town upside down—’”