Claire had the sudden weird feeling that Eve had something she couldnt talk about in front of them. The cops seemed to think so, too, because their eyes met briefly, and then Hess said, You want an update? How about showing us to your coffeepot?
Sure! Eve said brightly, and led them off into the kitchen.
Well, Shane said as the door shut behind them, thats bizarre.
Did I miss a chapter? Claire asked. And are there Cliffs Notes?
No idea.
The sound of conversation drifted in from the kitchen, music without words. Claire fidgeted, then got up and tiptoed over.
Hey! Shane protested, but he followed.
Hess was talking about somebody named Jason. Shane reacted, putting his hand on Claires shoulder and lifting his finger to his lips.
What? she mouthed silently.
I want to hear.
Detective Lowe was talking. you probably would want to know that hes getting out today. Now, before you say anything, hes been warned. Hes not about to go near you or your parents. Hell be monitored.
Monitored. Eve sounded shaken. ButI thought he was going to be in jail for a long time! What about that girl?
She withdrew the complaint, Hess said. We couldnt keep him locked up forever, honey. Im sorry.
But hes guilty!
I know. But now its your word against his, and you know how that gets decided. Youre not sworn to anybody, Eve. He is.
Eve cursed. It sounded like she was trying not to cry. Does he know where I am?
Hell find out, Hess said. But like I said, hes being monitored, and well keep an eye on all of you kids here. You leave Jason alone, hell leave you alone. Okay?
If Eve agreed, she did it silently. Claire nearly tipped backward as Shane tugged on her shoulder; then she caught her balance and followed him back to the couch. Whos Jason? She couldnt even wait until they were seated to ask.
Crap, he sighed. Jasons her brother. Last I heard, he was in jail for stabbing somebody. Hes kind of a psycho, and Eve turned him in. No wonder shes freaked.
Her older brother? Because Claire was picturing some Gothed-out muscular football type about ten feet tall, with a steroid habit.
Younger, Shane said. Seventeen, I guess. Skinny, creepy kid. I never liked him.
Do you think?
What?
Do you think hell come here? Try to hurt Eve?
Shane shrugged. If he does, hell be regretting it all the way to the hospital. He said it in a matter-of-fact kind of way that made Claire feel strangely warm. She fought to catch her breath. If Shane noticed, he didnt show it. As long as we stay here, were safe. He looked up at the blank ceiling. Right, Michael?
A chill drifted over Claires skin. Right, she said, on Michaels behalf.
But she wondered.
Chapter Nine
The cops left, Shane played some video games, and Claire studied. It was a normal kind of day, all things considered. Shane had the TV on, looking for any news that might show a clue as to what his dad was up to, but Morganvilles local station (it had only one) seemed bland, vanilla, and content-free even on the newscast.
The night came; Michael drifted back into human form; they had dinner.
Normal life, such as it passed for in a place like Morganville. In the Glass House.
It was only at midnight, when Claire was drifting off to sleep to the distant, sweet sound of Michaels guitar, that she started wondering about what she was going to do in the morning. She couldnt just hide, no matter what Michael thought. She had a lifesort ofand shed already missed enough classes this semester. It was go or withdraw, and withdrawing would make things worse. Shed never get her academic life together and go on to the Ivy League schools she was dreaming about.
She fell asleep thinking of vampires, fangs, pretty girls with mean smiles and cigarette lighters. Of fires and screaming. Of Shanes mom floating in the bathtub.
Of Shane, huddled in a corner, crying.
Not a great night. She woke up at first light, wondering if Michael was already gone again, and yawned and struggled her way out of bed and to the bathroom. Nobody else was up, of course. The shower felt good, and by the time shed dried her hair and pulled on a plain white shirt and blue jeans and sneakers, and loaded up her backpack with the daily essentials, she felt ready to face the outside world.
Shane was asleep on the couch downstairs. She tiptoed past him,but a squeaky floorboard made it a useless exercise; he came bolt upright and stared at her with wild, uncomprehending eyes for a few seconds before he blinked and sighed. Claire. He swung his legs off, sat up, and rested his head on the palms of his hands. Ow. Man, remind me that two hours of sleep doesnt really cut it.
I think you just reminded yourself. What were you doing up?
Talking, he said. Michael needed to talk.
Oh. Guy stuff. Stuff Michael hadnt wanted to share with the girls. Okay, fine, not her business. Claire hitched up her backpack and edged toward the hallway.
Where are you going? Shane asked without lifting his head.
You know where Im going.
Oh no, youre not!
Shane, Im going. Sorry, but you dont get to tell me what to do. Technically, she supposed he could; he was older, and in Michaels absence he was sort of the owner and operator of the house.
Butno. Not even then. Once she started letting that happenor happen againshed lose whatever independence shed earned. I have to go to class. Look, Ill be fine. Amelies Protections still good, and the campus is neutral ground, you know that. Unless I screw up, Ill be okay.
Its not neutral ground for Monica, he said, and looked up. She tried to kill you, Claire.
True. Claire gulped down a hard little bubble of fear. I can handle Monica. She didnt think she could, but at least she could avoid her. Running was always an option.
Shane stared at her with bloodshot, tired eyes for a few long seconds, then shook his head and flopped back against the couch cushions, arms spread wide. Whatever, he said. Call if you get into trouble.