Pete evaded Shane's eyes for a second. 'Almost never. Anyway. Never with me.'
'You like her, right? You trust her? You want to save her?'
'Of course I do!'
'Then this is the best way,' Shane said. 'And trust me, I never, ever thought I'd be arguing to let a vampire bite somebody, but honestly, we need this. She needs it, and we all need it to give us the edge, because we don't know what we're dealing with. Pete, you're a tough guy - hell, I'm not so bad either. But we don't come with shades and secret spy crap and semi-auto weapons, either. So let's not give away the only advantage we have, all right?'
It was a good argument, and Pete unwillingly, finally, nodded. Shane gave him a good-for-you kind of nod in return, and they tapped fists. Then Shane walked straight over to Myrnin, looked him in the eye, and said, 'Here.' And offered him his arm, skinning up his sleeve to show the veins. 'Doesn't mean we're going steady.'
Myrnin stared at him a few seconds, then glanced at Claire; she could see the confusion in him, and the wish to trade Shane for her, but she held still and didn't make the offer. Mostly, she had to admit, because she was curious to see how it worked - how the antipathy between her boyfriend and her boss/friend played out in this really oddly intimate exchange.
And Myrnin wasn't in any position to be choosy; he was still weak and shaky, and the hot red embers in his eyes were flickering faster than before. So he took hold of Shane's arm and, without any visible change of expression, extended his fangs and bit, hitting the vein with effortless ease.
Shane winced and closed his eyes as Myrnin's mouth closed over his skin, and she could see the cell-deep urge to pull away boiling up in him. Somehow, he controlled it, though he looked like it took everything he had to stay patiently still. Myrnin, for his part, was polite enough to stop after less than thirty seconds, and even put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding before stepping back. Not a drop had escaped him, and his mask-like expression never shifted at all. 'Thank you,' he said, with perfect courtesy - or at least, it would have been courteous if you didn't know how he usually said such things. Like his face, his tone was perfectly blank.
Shane, on the other hand, was so easy to read he was practically a flashing neon sign. And what it spelt out wasn't good, but he nodded in return. Bare politeness minimum, and they both took giant steps back to put space between them.
Guys.
Claire shook her head, went to Oliver, and presented her wrist.
He gave her a long, narrow look and said, 'No, thank you.'
'I'm not good enough for you?'
'Don't be a git, blood is blood. But I'm not presently in quite that much need. Don't worry, I'm sure there will be a further catastrophic disaster for which we will be woefully unprepared, if our luck holds.'
'Damn, Oliver, that is some industrial strength sarcasm,' Shane said. 'I'm surprised. I thought you were saving it for something special, like the Apocalypse, or at least tea time.'
'I can easily avoid tea time. It's a perk of being vampire. No one asked you.'
Myrnin held up his hand. 'I did.'
'And we won't ever discuss that again,' Oliver said. 'Feeling better?'
'Pish, I only lost part of my brain. It wasn't even the most important part.' Clearly, Myrnin did not want to say anything the least complimentary about Shane, or his blood. 'Yes. I'm restored. Now, let's go rescue Lady Grey.'
'Your inability to comprehend the vaguest notion of priorities has always astounded me,' Oliver said. 'We attempted a frontal assault last time, as you recall. This time, we shall send a scout to examine the situation, instead of stumbling onward like drunken fools into a cathouse.'
Wow. Oliver really was busting out the weapons-grade sarcasm. Which meant, Claire thought, that he was also seriously rattled by events - and maybe by Jesse's capture, since he didn't seem to despise her nearly as much as he did most other people. 'I'll go,' Claire said.
'No, you won't,' Shane said, 'since I'm the logical choice to be doing the scouting. Not afraid of the dark, able to shoot pretty much any kind of weapon, can punch a vampire in the face, have training in scoping out the enemy ... and also, I have a pulse, which means I'm not really valuable to the bad guys like one of you might be. So I'll go.'
Eve held up a hand. 'You forgot the downsides. Can't see in the dark, aren't as bullet-resistant as a vampire, can't punch as hard-'
'Hey, I thought you were on my side!'
Eve shrugged. 'I'd rather you not die.' She looked down at Michael again, and the implication felt like a dagger in Claire's guts. She hadn't, after all, objected to Claire's going. Michael stirred a little, and made a soft, protesting sound, and Eve hugged him tighter. 'Hush, honey, it's okay, it's okay, nobody's going to die. You're all right.'
It broke Claire's heart to see that. It was her fault, and Eve was right to be angry ... Claire hated herself for bringing this whole situation together. She wished she'd never even thought of the stupid damned device.
But it works, the cold science-y part of her brain noted. He's out of the fight. What if you had it, and pointed it at a vampire attacking you? Any gun can be used in a wrong way, but if you use it the right way it saves lives ...
She didn't want to hear it, not while she was staring down the barrel of the consequences.
'I want to go,' Claire said. 'Please.' She must have sounded as wretched as she felt. 'I need to go.'
They both looked at Oliver, who was definitely the one in charge just now; he'd been a general long ago, and he still had the ruthless clarity of one. 'Shane goes,' he said. 'He's expendable, in the great scheme of things, and presents less of a temptation to our enemies.'
'Expendable was not the word I was looking to hear to boost my morale, but whatever. Good call.' Shane was already moving to pick up weapons, including a knife that Myrnin silently produced from within his battered waistcoat and handed over.
'Wait,' Oliver said. 'I've not finished. Claire also should go.'
'Wait a second-' Shane said, but it was Claire's turn to nod. She moved in and snagged the knife from Myrnin. 'Look, if they want anybody, they'd want Claire. She can tell them all about how the device works, right? Doesn't make any sense to send her in there! I don't agree about the expendable thing, but at least I don't have a lot in my brains for them to pick over.'
'They already know too much - enough to use the device, anyway,' Claire said, and tested the weight of the knife. It felt heavy and cold in her hand, but it would do. No silver edge on it, which made sense for a vampire's personal weapon; it would do just as good a job against human enemies, though. 'And they won't get me. But I'm not going to let them get you either, Shane. We watch each other's backs, Morganville style.'
He didn't like it, but he flashed her a quick, unwilling smile. 'You can take the girl out of the town, but you can't take the town out of the girl,' he said. 'Outstanding. Let's do it.'
Claire lowered her voice and shot a glance toward the other human still with them, who was leaning against the wall of the warehouse, head down. 'What about Pete? Should we take him?'
'Not sure Pete could handle it, honestly. He's a good guy but he's a little out of his depth. Being a bouncer never really required a whole lot of stealth. Kind of the opposite, actually.'
She hugged Shane then, and he hugged her back, and then they spun away to collect other things - a flashlight from Eve, and last, Claire got a clip of bullets from Pete. Pete, she couldn't help but notice, hadn't volunteered to mount up. Hadn't even tried. Shane was right - being a bouncer, even in a reasonably tough bar, wasn't any kind of prep for the kind of industrial-strength risk-taking that was a typical Morganville afternoon.
And then they were on their way. Liz slept on, curled at Pete's feet; Michael and Eve stayed huddled together. Myrnin waved forlornly, and Oliver ... Oliver looked regal, like a king bidding farewell to troops he never expected to see again.
'I hate that son of a bitch,' Shane said, and smiled and waved back.
'I heard that,' Oliver said, just loudly enough to be heard.
And then they were out, jogging down the alley. Claire said, 'He's sending us as bait, isn't he?'
'Yeah,' Shane said. 'Really, scouting? He's not even trying to hide it this time. I think we're the diversion. Fine. Let's get to diverting.'
Night was starting to give way to the faint and distant suggestion of morning, but the alleyway was still drowning in oddly shaped shadows. Claire used the flashlight carefully, just quick presses to show them the obstacles, and then Shane led the way through. He had her hold up a couple of times, either out of too much caution or because there really still were minions chasing them ... and instead of going back to the run-off tunnels - they had no chance of jumping up the way they'd come down, anyway - he took them the long way around, through mostly deserted streets. When a police car cruised by, headlights splashing over them, Shane casually put an arm around her, and she snuggled into him. It also concealed the weapons they were carrying.