I felt my jaw go tight, and I tried really hard not to clench my teeth too much. 'Until now, you mean. Unless you don't count humans getting abducted as hurt.'
'Down, boy. I'm not your enemy. Claire called me to help.' Jesse flashed a brief, biting smile at me. 'After she asked me if I had gone munchies on her friend, of course. But that's a sensible and sane question, for someone who's lived where you've lived. I would have asked it, too, in your shoes. Relax.' She moved her fingers on his phone's keypad, lightning fast, and then handed it back. 'I've forwarded the pictures on to a friend who can do the footwork. Quick thinking, getting the shot. And not rushing in. You'd have ended up taken just like Derrick, I think. No offence, but it's likely these are men trained in quick, quiet abduction. It's not like fighting vampires.'
'Nothing here is like fighting vampires,' I said. 'It's more like fighting smoke. I think I like it when I had an actual enemy to face.'
'Oh, don't worry, you have some. We just haven't seen them yet,' Jesse said. 'But we will. And when we do ...' She showed fang, just for a moment; anybody who happened to catch a glimpse would have doubted their sanity, especially since the teeth disappeared in a flash. 'When we do, we'll settle this Morganville style.'
'What'll we do about Liz, and Derrick?' Claire asked. 'They don't have anything to do with this, if it's about me and Professor Anderson and vampires. They're just caught in the middle.'
'You know what generally happens to people in the middle, Claire?' Jesse asked, as she got to her feet. 'Crossfire.' She speared me with a long look, and I threw it right back at her. 'Shane, get her someplace safe. I'm holding you responsible. I have your phone number now, and I'll be in touch when I have something. Until then, lay low.'
'What about the police?' Claire asked. 'Shouldn't I call them?'
'Call them if you like,' Jesse said, 'but when you do, they're going to ask you to explain why you dumped a fresh pizza on the floor inside the house, found blood in your housemate's room, and didn't call 911 immediately. They'll match the store receipt to your route and the time you were seen entering the house. And the first person they'll detain is you. You had the keys. There was no forced entry. And in the police's experience, generally the person who lives in the house is the first person to suspect.'
It was all pretty damn logical. Brutally logical. Claire swallowed hard and nodded. 'No police then.'
'Smart girl.'
I watched Jesse as she walked away, hood up, hands in her pockets. She didn't even hurry. Yeah, that was some scary confidence, considering she was essentially vulnerable out here, alone. 'Sorry,' I said. Not to Jesse, but to Claire. I was still trying not to look her in the eye. 'I'd rather talk about all this someplace safer. Can we go?'
'I'd rather talk about it here,' she said, 'because at least if I'm here, I can order coffee, and I probably won't scream in frustration out loud. Think of it as a public buffer zone.'
Oh, great. I winced, but I asked the question. 'So, do you feel like screaming? Specifically, at me?'
'A little bit,' she said. 'But God, this doesn't matter right now, does it? What about Liz? What's going to happen to her? I mean, even Derrick doesn't deserve ... Jesse didn't mean it about crossfires, did she?'
'I don't know,' I said. 'Claire, this is not a good place to stay. Jesse said to keep you safe, and in my opinion an open table on the sidewalk isn't exactly the textbook definition of secure ...'
'Do you have an apartment?'
'I've got a room at Florey's. It's not spacious. Or clean. But it's cheap, and the work's solid. It'll do until things settle down, if you're, ah, not too picky.'
'Well, it couldn't be much worse than where I was living,' Claire sighed. 'All my stuff is back there, though. All my clothes, anyway. I've got my computer and books, and that's what's important. Hey ... did you know Jesse was ...' Claire gave the universal Morganville sign for teeth in the neck, and I smiled, just a little. Carefully. Not just because it hurt like a son of a bitch.
'Hey, it's me,' I said. 'I can spot 'em a mile away.' I only wished that was true; it would have avoided so many problems over the years. My dad was the one with the nose for the Nosferatu ... not me. 'Pete's human, by the way. In case you were wondering. He cut himself on a bottle the other day, and I helped him dress the wound. Didn't heal immediately.'
Claire nodded, because it was a good piece of proof, at that, because vampires couldn't control the speed at which they healed, not without putting something on the wound that held it open or continued to burn, like silver. 'Is Jesse the only one you've spotted?'
'Yeah, so far. Though it's pretty rare to find one on her own out here, isn't it? Vampires like safety in numbers, because they're so rare, especially these days. If she feels confident enough to be out here on her own, I'm pretty sure she's nobody we want to cross.' I shifted, because my arm was hurting again, bone-deep throbs as if I'd just slammed it hard into a brick wall. And it itched like mad. I clenched and released my fist, and then shook it out, hoping that it'd get better. It didn't.
'What's wrong?' Claire asked. She still sounded distant, and a little unwilling to ask, but she was asking. Which was encouraging.
'Well, when you get a major-league ass-kicking from a bunch of guys, even if they generally suck at it, you do feel it later,' I said. 'No big thing. I'll live.' Yes, I was trying to be a tough guy. I didn't feel like it, right at that moment; I wanted to curl up against her, feel those wonderful soft hands touching my face and tracing lightly over the hurts. She always, always made it better. There was something so healing in being with her; it felt like standing in the sunlight when I'd spent my whole life in the dark.
But the best I could feel from her right now was ... shade.
We sat in silence for a long, painful moment, and then a waiter came up and asked us if we wanted anything, in that annoyed voice that waiters develop in college towns when they figure you're only marginally good for the cheque in the first place, and tips are out of the question. I tried to order a plain coffee, Claire tried to order a mocha, we talked over each other, and we both looked up at the same moment, and ...
... And we stopped, just staring at each other. Because all of a sudden it was real. The moment was real, and there was no avoiding it any more. The waiter's annoyed sighs finally sparked me to say, flatly, 'Beat it,' and he did, muttering under his breath the whole time. I didn't care. I didn't care if Jesse descended on us, fangs out, and the entire zombie horde from Dead Rising suddenly started shambling through the restaurant. They could wait.
Claire said, 'I really thought you were back in Morganville. You got Michael and Eve to lie to me.'
'I just asked them not to volunteer where I was, that's all. I know it was the wrong thing to do, but sometimes - sometimes it doesn't matter. Right, wrong, it's just the thing you have to do. And I had to see you. I had to know you were okay. I'll apologise for basically hovering, but I can't be sorry for being worried about you. I didn't crash your door and demand to see you. I just ... stayed close.'
'Watching me from a distance,' she said. 'You didn't trust me enough to let go.'
I felt a surge of panic, followed by a confused bolt of realisation. Was she right? Was it a trust thing, and not a worry thing? How did it look from her side ... like I'd been following her, spying on her, judging her? Yeah, it probably did look that way, horribly enough. It wasn't what I'd been doing, or at least I didn't think it was.
I leant forward, elbows on the table, and I held her gaze as I said, 'Claire, I don't want to let you go. But that has nothing to do with not trusting you. I trust you with my life. Always have.'
I didn't keep talking, because that pretty much said everything I meant to say. She blinked slowly, thinking about it, and then sighed, shook her head, and said, 'You're an idiot, but I know you mean that. And you're not angry, I know that too. You just ...'
'Wanted you,' I said. 'Needed you. That's why I'm here. Maybe it's a bad thing, I don't know; if you look me in the eyes and tell me to go back to Morganville, I'll go. I won't like it, but-'
She suddenly sat straight up, eyes growing wide, as if someone had jabbed a pin in her, and she lunged forward and caught hold of my hands. I was surprised, but not too surprised to wrap mine around hers. Touching her stilled some voice inside me I hadn't even known was screaming.
'Michael and Eve,' she said. 'Did they call you?'
'Not for a couple of days - wait.' I checked the phone's call log, and there it was, a missed call from Eve. No voicemail. 'What's happening?'
'Even if you went back there, you'd end up here again,' she said. 'Michael and Eve are on their way. Amelie sent them after Myrnin.'