I patted her on the back and kissed her cheek. She smelt like flowers, but not the sweet and innocent kind ... more like the night-blooming ones. 'You watch Michael's back and don't worry about mine, tough girl. And damn sure watch your own.'
She sniffled a little, but the tears didn't quite break free, and she compensated by giving me a hard shot to the shoulder as she stepped back. 'Don't I always? What are you going to do when you get there? If you get there, I mean, because knowing you, you'll end up in a bar fight before you're out of Texas.'
'Not fair. I never go into bars.' I wouldn't be allowed in one at my age, anyway. 'My fights are always in the parking lots. Get it right.'
'Idiot.'
'That's the best you've got, Gothika? Because I expect quality insults from you, and that's not really measuring up.'
'Look, Steroid Brain-'
'Okay, that's better, but work on it.'
'You are such a tool! I love you, you know, right?'
'Right,' I said softly. 'Scary girl.'
She blew me a kiss and turned away so I wouldn't see her cry. I glanced at Mikey, who was waiting near the door with my bag.
One last look around at the Glass House, my house ... at the couch where I'd played countless hours of video games, at the kitchen where we'd yelled at each other over whose turn it was to do dishes and trash duty, at the carpet we always said we'd steam clean one of these days. At the scars on the walls from battles that had almost cost us our lives.
One last look at home.
'I'll be back,' I promised them, and myself, and then Michael and I walked out the doorway and into the cold, vast world beyond.
On the way down the steps I checked my phone, again. Nothing from Claire. It was late now. Maybe she hadn't seen my video. Maybe she'd seen it, and hadn't cared. Maybe she was angrier than I'd ever thought.
Maybe she was out having fun and had already forgotten all about me. That was the scariest thought of all. Sure, I might be charming by Morganville standards, but she wasn't locked into the shallow end of the pool now, and there were plenty more to choose from. Genuinely smart college boys.
Thinking about that made me stupid. I knew better than to check my phone and forget my surroundings - we lived in Morganville, after all, and one thing you didn't do was get distracted in public, at night.
And as Michael headed for the car with my backpack, and I fumbled with the phone and tried to see if I'd missed a call, it cost me, because a dark shape rushed at me from the darkness, and I was unprepared.
Not a vampire, as it turned out. I could have handled a vampire. This was a dog. A big, scary dog, something like a Rottweiler, maybe, and it wasn't barking; it was intent on biting. I heard the growl coming at me, and next thing I knew jaws had clamped down on my arm, and my phone went flying. I dimly heard the crunch of metal and glass, but that was not the biggest problem I had at the moment. I'd put on my heavy coat, which was helping, but this dog had a seriously painful grip on me, and a lot of weight behind it; he shook his massive head, and I saw a shine of red in his eyes. Not natural.
I surprised him by not trying to pull away, but instead throwing myself into him and over, flipping him clumsily on his side. He let go of me with a surprised yelp, and I rolled up to my feet and spared one glance for my phone.
Destroyed.
No time to mourn; I was in serious shit, because this dog wasn't just a dog; the hellhound glare of its eyes was proof enough of that. I'd never seen anything like it before, not even in Morganville; dogs were pretty predictable, but this one was coming after me like I was a steak and he'd been starved for months. All my weapons were in the pack, which was with Michael, and besides I really didn't like the idea of killing a dog, even one that was trying to kill me.
It launched itself at me in a running leap, growling, showing way-too-sharp teeth, and I fell backward to the grass and put one foot up like a soccer player going for a goal. Good timing. My foot caught the dog underneath and changed the trajectory from down to my throat, to up and headed for a hard landing against Michael's car.
Michael caught it as it bounced off. More accurately, he got it in a headlock and held it there as it snarled and fought and ineffectively clawed the air for purchase. I heaved in thick, fast breaths and got to my feet in a post-fight burst of adrenaline. The sleeve of my coat was shredded, and I could feel bruises deep into my arm, but at least I hadn't lost any flesh out of it.
Lucky.
'What the hell?' I said, and Michael shook his head.
'No idea,' he said. 'It's almost as if it's been turned, but you can't do that. Animals can't become vampire. They don't have enough - will, I guess.'
'Tell that to the devil beast, then, because he damn sure looks like he's been turned.'
'Whatever he is, we can't leave him running around out here,' Michael said. 'You mind waiting a bit until this is taken care of?'
'Do I have a choice?'
'Not unless you want to share the seat with him, locked in the car.'
'Yeah, I haven't had my shots, better not. Throw me your phone,' I said. 'Mine's trashed. I'll call it in.'
'Let me see your arm.'
'I'm fine, man.'
'Let me see.'
I took off the coat and rolled up the long sleeve of the thermal I was wearing beneath. Red bruises that were going to black-and-blue in a few hours ... and some distinct dark, welling spots of blood. Funny. I hadn't felt the punctures at all.
I wiped the blood off.
No wounds.
'Shane?' Michael sounded worried. Hell, he was right to be. I shook my head, and he pitched his phone to me. I fielded it neatly, dialled 911, and reported devil dog in a vampire headlock. They didn't sound surprised. That's my hometown for you. He repeated the question after I hung up, with a more urgent edge to it.
'I'm fine!' Well, maybe I wasn't, but I knew how this would go ... if nobody knew what was going on, I'd get my ass hauled up in front of the Founder, or worse, Myrnin, who'd siphon blood off of me and hem and haw and make crazy statements and finally say he didn't know what was going on. So I'd prefer to skip the drama and work out my problems on my own. Right now, the idea of letting anybody poke and prod me sounded horrifying. 'They're on the way.'
They were, too, at high speed. The cop car that wailed toward us screeched around the corner, and the two police inside bailed as the doors flew open. One was a vampire, which was nice, since apparently it was taking vampire strength to subdue angry Fido.
The other was the former mayor, now returned to police chief (which was where she belonged, I thought). Chief Hannah Moses looked at each of us in turn, considered the state of my arm and jacket, and then focused in on Michael and the dog. 'Hal, if you'd please wrangle the dog ...?'
Hal, the other cop, nodded and moved in. He and Michael did a complicated little manoeuvre transferring control of the snarling, writhing, snapping Fluffy, whose devil-red eyes continued to haunt me. Hal dumped the dog in the trunk of the police car, where it immediately began attacking the metal with a fury that chilled, and then he returned to us. 'That's the third one,' he told Hannah, who nodded.
'Third one?' I asked. 'Mind if I ask ...'
'You can ask, I'm just not sure I have an answer,' Hannah said. She looked strong, tall, competent, perfectly put together ... she held herself like a woman who wasn't afraid of anything, and that was almost true. She was afraid of failure, and she'd failed at being mayor, because that was a job nobody could win. But give her a weapon, a uniform, and a problem, and I couldn't think of anybody I'd rather get behind. 'I can't tell you what they are, Shane, because I don't know. All I know is that we got a report of a wild dog last night that was attacking people, and it looked just like this one. Had to shoot that one, it was going after a kid. Two more tonight. I'm hoping like hell this is the last one.'
'Experiment gone wrong out of Myrnin's lab?' Michael wasn't afraid to go there. Well, he was only half a step ahead of me, actually.
'I checked,' Hannah said. I'd have paid to hear that conversation. 'He says no. He says he wouldn't. He likes dogs.'
'Probably true,' I said. 'And Claire would never put up with him experimenting on helpless animals. He cares what she thinks, even if he doesn't care about anybody else.'
The sound of the dog in the trunk was like a demon in a tin can, and it was unnerving me. The whole police cruiser was rocking on its tyres. Hannah didn't so much as glance at it. Michael cleared his throat and said, 'What are you going to do with it?'
'Find out what's going on, or try to,' Hannah said. 'So far, nobody's been killed, but I don't like it. Nothing good ever comes of weird things happening in this town.' Before I could comment on how true that was, not that she needed my opinion, she focused in on me. 'How's your arm?'