The Dead Girl's Dance
Chapter Eleven

Claire decided on the way home that maybe it wouldnt be a good idea to blurt all of it out to Shanenot about Monica, or his dad, or the vampire Sam. Instead, she made dinner (tacos) and waited for Michael to rejoin the world. Which he did, as soon as the sun was safely under the horizon, and looked just as normal and angelic as ever.
She somehow got the message across to him that she needed to talk in private, which resulted in Michael drying dishes in the kitchen while she washed up. How that happened, she wasnt sureit wasnt her turnbut the warm water and smooth suds were kind of soothing.
Did you tell Shane about Monica? Michael asked when she was done relating the days events. He didnt seem bothered, but then, it took a lot to faze Michael. He might have been wiping the plates a little too thoroughly, though.
No, she said. He gets a little, you know, about her.
Yeah, he does. Okay, you need to be careful, you know that,right? Id ask Shane to go with you to class, but
But thats probably what she wants, Claire finished, and handed him another plate. To get us both together so she can use us against each other. Right?
Michael nodded, eyebrows going up. All she has to do is grab you and shes got him. So be careful. Imnot much use, outside of here. Or any use, actually.
She felt bad for the flash of anger in his eyesit wasnt directed at her but at himself. He hated this. Hated being trapped here while his friends needed him.
Ill be fine, she said. I got a new cell phone. Mom and Dad sent it.
Good. Youve got us all on speed dial?
One, two, and three. And 911 on four.
Sweet. Michael hip-bumped her. How are classes?
Okay. She couldnt work up any enthusiasm for them right at the moment. Were not talking about Shanes dad?
Nothing to talk about, he said. You stay out of Common Grounds, and stay away from Oliver. If Shanes dad was in there, he was probably just taking a look around. Oliver might have sent him on his way. He does a good regular-guy act. Michael ought to know, Claire reflected. Oliver had done a good enough regular-guy act to charm his way into the house, where hed killed Michael, trying to make him a vampire. The house had saved Michaelpartly. A kind of supernatural apology for having failed to protect him in the first place. The house did things like that. It was creepy, and occasionally flat-out scary, but it was at least mostly loyal to whoever was in residence.
Oliver, thoughOliver was loyal to Oliver. And that was about it.
So we do nothing? Claire asked.
We do the best nothing youve ever seen. Michael put the last plate away and tossed the towel over his shoulder like a bartender going on break. Meaning, you do nothing, Claire. Thats an order.
She gave him a cockeyed mock salute. Yes, sir, sorry, sir.
He sighed. I liked you better when you were this timid little kid. What happened?
I started living with you guys.
Oh, right.
He fluffed her hair, smiled, and ambled off toward the living room. Its game night, he said. I made Shane swear, no video games tonight. I think hes blowing the dust off of Monopoly. I wouldnt let him have Risk. He gets crazy with Risk.
Didnt they all?
So, I got a new job, Eve said brightly as they sat on the floor around the Monopoly board. Shane was kicking ass, but Michael had the railroads; Eve and Claire were just mostly watching their money stacks dwindle. No wonder people like this game, Claire thought. Its just like life.
You got a job already? Shane asked as Michael rattled the dice in his hand and then tossed them out on the faded, warped board. Jeez, Eve, throw the brakes on full employment. Youre making me look bad.
Shane Collins, permanent slacker. If youd book more than one interview a month, and actually, you know, show up to them, you might get a job, too.
Oh, so now youre a career counselor?
Bite me. Youre not even going to ask me where?
Sure, Michael said as he moved his cannon across four squares. Where?Oh, crap.
Thatll be five hundred, my man. And extra for clean towels in the hotel. Shane held out his palm.
I got hired at the university, Eve said, watching Michael count out cash and hand it over to Shane. In the student union coffee shop. I even got a raise.
Congratulations! Claire said. And youre not working for an evil vampire. Bonus.
Bosswise, a definite step up. I mean, hes a slack-jawed loser with bad breath and a drinking problem, but that pretty much describes most of the male population of Morganville.
Hey! both Shane and Michael chorused, and Eve gave them both a brilliant grin.
Excluding the hotties in the room, of course. And cheer up, guysit includes most of the female population, too. Anyway. Better hoursIm working days, so not a lot of vamp worriesand bigger paychecks. Plus, I get to check out campus life. I hear they party hard.
From the other side of the counter, all youre going to see is people dissing you and complaining about their drinks, Shane said without looking up. You watch yourself, Eve. Some of those assholes on campus think that if youre wearing a name badge, youre their own personal toy.
Yeah, I know. I heard about Karla.
Karla? Claire asked.
She works at the university, Eve said. Karla Gast. We went to school with her. Michael and Shane both looked up and nodded. She was kind of a party girl in high school, you know? Real pretty, too. She went to work on campusI dont know what she was doingbut anyway, shes missing.
It was in the paper, Michael said. Abducted last night walking to her car.
Claire frowned. Why would it be in the paper? I mean, they dont usually put stuff like that in the papers, right? Because in Morganville, murder was sort of legitimate, wasnt it?
They do if it wasnt vampires, Eve said, and nibbled on a carrot stick as she rolled the dice. Oooooh, pay me my two hundred, Mr. Banker. If shed been dragged off by vamps, even rogue vamps, it would have just been swept under the carpet like usual. Payoffs to the family, end of the story. But this is different.
Is that, you know, unusual? Crime? Crime that isnt vampire related, I mean?
Kinda. Eve shrugged. But people tend to get nasty around Morganville. Nasty, or drunk, or timid. One of those.
Which are you? Shane asked. Eve bared her teeth at him and growled. Ouch. Right. Gotcha.
SoEve, I heard your brothers out of jail, Michael said. Claire was rolling dice for her move, and by the time the plastic hit the board it sounded as loud as plates shattered on a tile floor. Nobody was making a sound. Nobody was breathing, so far as she could tell. From the expression on his face, Michael was clearly rethinking having brought up the subject, and Eve lookedhard and fierce and (deep down) scared.
Shane was just watching, no expression at all.
Awkward.
Um Claire cautiously slid her Scottie dog the six squares that shed rolled. You havent said much about your brother. She was curious what Eve would say. Because clearly Eve was not happy Michael had brought it up.
I dont talk about him, Eve said flatly. Not anymore. His name is Jason, and hes a dick, and lets drop the subject, okay?
Okay. Claire cleared her throat. Shane?
What? He looked down at the board where she was pointing. Oh. Right. Three hundred.
She mutely handed over her last bills as Shane took the dice in hand.
Eve, you know what he went to jail for. You dont think, Michael began, very slowly.
Shut up, Michael, Eve said tensely. Just shut up, okay? Is it possible he did it? Sure. I wouldnt put it past him, but he just got out yesterday morning. Thats pretty fast work, even for Jason. But she looked shaken, under the fierce expression, and even paler than normal. You know what? I have to get up early. Night.
Eve
She jumped up and headed for the stairs. Michael followed, two steps behind as she climbed toward her room, black tattered-silk skirt fluttering. Claire watched them go, eyebrows raised, and Shane continued to shake the dice.
Guess the games over, he said, and rolled anyway. Heh. Boardwalk. I think that completes Shanes real estate empire, thank you for playing, good night.
What was Michael talking about? Claire asked. Does he think Eves brother might have taken that girl?
No, he thinks Eves brother might have killed that girl, Shane said. And the cops probably think so, too. If he did, theyll get him, and this time, he wont be getting out of jail. In fact, he probably wont even make it to jail. One of Karlas brothers is a cop.
Oh, Claire said in a small voice. She could hear the murmur of conversation upstairs. WellI guess I should get to bed, too. I have early classes tomorrow.
Shane met her eyes. Might want to give them some privacy for a while.
Oh. Right. She jiggled her foot under the table and started gathering up the cash and cards from the table. Her hands brushed Shanes, and he let go of the cards and took hold.
And then, somehow, she was in his lap, and he was kissing her. Hadnt meant to do that, butwell. She couldnt exactly be sorry about it, because he tasted amazing, and his lips were so soft and his hands were so strong
He leaned back, eyes half-shut, and he was smiling. Shane didnt smile all that much, and it always left her breathless and tingling. There was a secrecy about it, like he only ever smiled with her, and it just feltperfect. Claire, youre being careful, right? He smoothed hair back from her face. Seriously. Youd tell me if you got into trouble.
No trouble, she lied, thinking about Monicas not-so-veiled threats, and that glimpse of Shanes dad seated across from Oliver in the coffee shop. No trouble at all.
Good. He kissed her again, then moved down her jawline to her neck, and, wow, neck nibbles that took her breath away again. She closed her eyes and buried her fingers in his warm hair, trying to tell him through every touch how much she liked this, liked him, loved
Her eyes came open, fast.
She did not just think that.
Shanes warm hands moved up her sides, thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts again, and he traced his fingers across the thin skin of her collarbonedown to where the neck of her T-shirt stopped him. Teasing. Pulling it down an inch, then two.
And then, maddeningly, he let go and leaned back, lips damp. He licked them, watching her, and gave her that slow, crazy sexy smile again.
Go to bed, he said. Before I decide to come with.
She wasnt sure she could stand up, but somehow, she got her legs to steady under her, and made it up the stairs. Michael was in Eves room, the door was open, and they were sitting together on her bed. Michael was so bright, with his golden hair and china blue eyes, and he didnt match the room all draped in dramatic black and red. He looked like an angel whod taken a massive wrong turn.
He was holding Eve in his arms and rocking her, very gently, back and forth. As Claire looked in, he met her eyes and mouthed, Close the door.
She did, and went to her own bed.
Sadly, alone.
It occurred to Claire that shed be smart to know what Jason Rosser looked like, in order to avoid him, but she had the strong feeling that it wouldnt be a very good idea to ask Eve for a peek at the family album. Eve was pretty touchy just now about anything to do with her brotherwhich, if Shanes pessimistic assessment was right, probably wasnt the wrong attitude.
So Claire went researching. Not the university library,whichwhile not too baddidnt really have a lot of info about Morganville itself. Shed checked. There was some history, all carefully blanded down, and some newspaper archives.
But there was a Morganville Historical Society. She found the address in the phone book, studied the map, and calculated the time it would take to walk the distance. If she hustled, she could get there, find what she needed, and still make it to her noon class.
Claire showered, dressed in blue jeans and a black knit top with a screen-printed flower on itone of her thrift-shop buysand grabbed her backpack on the way to the door. She set herself a blistering pace once she hit the sidewalks, heading away from the university and into the unexplored guts of Morganville. She had the map with her, which was handy, because as soon as she was out of sight of the Glass House, things became confusing. For having been master planned, Morganville was not exactly logical in the way its streets ran. There were culs-de-sac, dead ends, lots of unlit deserted areas.
But then again, maybe that was logical, from a vampires planning perspective. Even in the hot beat of the sunlight, Claire shuddered at that idea, and moved faster past a street that ended in a deserted field littered with piled-up lumber and assorted junk. It even smelled like decay, the ugly smell of dead things left to rot in the heat. Having too much imagination was sometimes a handicap. At least Im not walking it at night.
No power on earth was going to make her do that.
The residential areas of Morganville were old, mostly run-down, parched and beaten by summer. It was bound to get cooler soon, but for now, Indian summer was broiling the Texas landscape. Cicadas sang in dull dental-drill whines in the grass and trees, and there was a smell of dust and hot metal in the wind. Of all the places to find vampires, this was pretty much the last she would have expected. Just notGoth enough. Too run-down. TooAmerican.
The next street was her turn, according to the map. She made it, stopped in the shade of a live oak tree, and took a couple of drinks from her water bottle as she considered how much longer a walk it would be. Not long, she thought. Which was good, because she was not going to miss another class. Ever.
The street dead-ended. Claire came to a stop, frowning, and checked; nope, according to the map, it went all the way through. Claire sighed in frustration and started to turn back to retrace her path, then hesitated when she saw a narrow passage between two fences. It looked like it went through to the next street.
Lose ten minutes or take a chance. Shed always been the lose-ten-minutes kind of girl, the prudent one, but maybe living in the Glass House had corrupted her. Besides, it was hot as hell out here.
She headed for the gap between the fences.
I wouldnt do that, child, said a voice. It was coming from the deep shadow of a porch, on a house to her right. It looked better cared for than most houses in Morganvillefreshly painted in a light sea blue, some brick trim, a neatly kept yard. Claire squinted and shaded her eyes, and finally saw a tiny birdlike old lady seated on a porch swing. She was as brown as a twig, with drifting pale hair like dandelion fuzz, and since she was dressed in a soft green sundress that hung on her like a bag, she looked like nothing so much as a wood spirit, something out of the old, old storybooks.
The voice, though, was pure warm Southern honey.
Claire backed up hastily from the entrance to the passageway. Im sorry, maam. I dont mean to trespass.
The tiny little thing cackled. Oh, no, child, youre not trespassin. Youre bein a fool. You ever heard of ant lions? Or trapdoor spiders? Well, you walk down that path, you wont be comin out the other side. Not this world.
Claire felt a pure cold bolt of panic, followed by a triumphant crow from the prudent side of her brain: I knew that! Butits daytime!
So it is, the old woman said, and rocked gently back and forth on her swing. So it is. Day dont always protect round Morganville. You should know that, too. Now, go back the way you came like a good child, and dont come here again.
Yes, maam, Claire said, and started to back away.
Gramma, what are youoh, hello! The screen door to the house opened, and a younger version of the Stick Lady stepped outyoung enough to be a granddaughter. She was tall and pretty, and her skin was more cocoa than wood brown. She wore her hair in braids, lots of them, and she smiled at Claire as she came to lay a hand on the old ladys shoulder. My gramma likes to sit out here and talk to people. Im sorry if she bothered you.
No, not at all, Claire said, and nervously fiddled with one of the loose adjustment straps of her backpack. She, um, warned me about the alley.
The womans eyes moved rapidly, from Claire to the old lady and back again. Did she? she said. She didnt sound warm anymore. Gramma, you know better than that. You need to quit scaring people with your stories.
Dont be a damn fool, Lisa. They aint just stories, and you know it.
Gramma, there hasnt been anytrouble around here for twenty years!
Doesnt mean it wouldnt happen, Gramma said stubbornly, and pointed a stick-thin shaking finger at Claire. You dont go down that alley, now. I meant what I said.
Yes, maam, she said faintly, and nodded to both women. Um, thanks.
Claire turned to go, and as she did, she noticed something mounted on the wall next to the old womans porch swing. A plaque, with a symbol.
The same symbol as was on the Glass House. The Founders symbol.
And now that she was looking at the house, really looking, it had some of the same lines to it, and it was about the same age.
Claire turned back, smiled apologetically, and said, Im sorry, but could I use your restroom? Ive been chugging water out here
She thought for a second that Lisa was going to say no, but then the younger woman frowned and said, I suppose, and came down the steps to open the white picket gate for Claire to enter. Go on inside. Its the second door off the hall.
Offer the child some lemonade, Lisa.
    
Shes not staying, Gramma!
How you know if you dont ask?