The Morganville Vampires Collection (The Morganville Vampires #1-4) by Rachel Caine Page B
Authors: Rachel Caine
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stay.
Oliver smiled slightly, picked up a piece of the disassembled machine, and polished it before reattaching it. He must have known Claire was watching, because he said, in a very low voice, ‘I don’t tolerate rudeness. Not in my place.’
She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the girls, or her staring at him, so she hurriedly went back to her books.
Quadratic equations were a great way to pass the afternoon.
Eve’s shift ended at nine, just as the nightlife at Common Grounds picked up; Claire, not used to the babble, chatter, and music, couldn’t keep her mind on her books anyway. She was glad of an excuse to go when Eve’s replacement – a surly-looking pimpled boy about Shane’s age – took her place behind the counter. Eve went in the back to get her stuff, and Claire packed up her backpack.
‘Claire.’ She looked up, startled that somebody remembered her name other than, well, people who wanted to kill her, and saw Kim Valdez, from thedorm.
‘Hey, Kim,’ she said. ‘Thanks for helping me out—’
Kim looked mad. Really mad. ‘Don’t even start! You left my cello just laying around out there! Do you have any idea how hard I worked for that thing? Way to be an asshole!’
‘But – I didn’t—’
‘Don’t lie. You bugged out somewhere. Hope you got your bags and crap. I left them out there just like you left my stuff.’ Kim jammed her hands in her pockets and glared at her. ‘ Don’t ask me for any favours again. Right?’
She didn’t wait for an answer, just moved off towards the counter. Claire sighed. ‘I won’t,’ she said, and zipped the backpack. She waited for a few minutes, but the crowd was getting thicker, and Eve was nowhere in sight. She stood up, stepped out of the way of a group of boys, and backed into a table in the shadowy corner.
‘Hey,’ a voice said softly. She looked back and saw a coffee cup tipping over, and a pale, long-fingered hand catching it before it did. The hand belonged to a young man – she couldn’t really call him a boy – with thick dark hair and light-coloured eyes, who’d claimed the table when she wasn’t looking.
‘Sorry,’ she said. He smiled at her and licked acouple of drops of coffee from the back of his hand with a pale tongue.
She felt something streak hot down her backbone, and shivered. He smiled wider.
‘Sit,’ he said. ‘I’m Brandon. You?’
‘Claire,’ she heard herself say, and even though she didn’t intend to, she sat, backpack thumping on the floor beside her. ‘Um, hi.’
‘Hello.’ His eyes weren’t just light; they were – pale, a shade of blue so faint it was almost silver. Scary-cool. ‘Are you here alone, Claire?’
‘I – no, I – ah—’ She was babbling like an idiot, and didn’t know what was wrong with her. The way he was looking at her made her feel naked. Not in a secretly cool, wow-I-think-he-likes-me way, but in a way that made her want to hide and cover herself. ‘I’m here with a friend.’
‘A friend,’ he said, and reached across to take her hand. She wanted to pull it back – she did – but somehow she couldn’t get control of herself. All she could do was watch as he turned her hand palm down, and brought it to his mouth to kiss. The warm, damp pressure of his lips on her fingers made her shiver all over.
Then he brushed his thumb across her wrist. ‘Where is your bracelet, little Claire? Good girls wear their bracelets. Don’t you have one?’
‘I—’ There was something sick and terrible happening in her head, something that made her tell the truth. ‘No. I don’t have one.’ Because she knew now what Brandon was, and she was sorry she’d laughed at Eve, sorry she’d ever doubted any of it.
You’ll get yours , Monica had promised.
Well, here it was.
‘I see.’ Brandon’s eyes seemed to get even paler, until they were pure white with tiny black dots for pupils. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream. ‘The only question is who will
Oliver smiled slightly, picked up a piece of the disassembled machine, and polished it before reattaching it. He must have known Claire was watching, because he said, in a very low voice, ‘I don’t tolerate rudeness. Not in my place.’
She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the girls, or her staring at him, so she hurriedly went back to her books.
Quadratic equations were a great way to pass the afternoon.
Eve’s shift ended at nine, just as the nightlife at Common Grounds picked up; Claire, not used to the babble, chatter, and music, couldn’t keep her mind on her books anyway. She was glad of an excuse to go when Eve’s replacement – a surly-looking pimpled boy about Shane’s age – took her place behind the counter. Eve went in the back to get her stuff, and Claire packed up her backpack.
‘Claire.’ She looked up, startled that somebody remembered her name other than, well, people who wanted to kill her, and saw Kim Valdez, from thedorm.
‘Hey, Kim,’ she said. ‘Thanks for helping me out—’
Kim looked mad. Really mad. ‘Don’t even start! You left my cello just laying around out there! Do you have any idea how hard I worked for that thing? Way to be an asshole!’
‘But – I didn’t—’
‘Don’t lie. You bugged out somewhere. Hope you got your bags and crap. I left them out there just like you left my stuff.’ Kim jammed her hands in her pockets and glared at her. ‘ Don’t ask me for any favours again. Right?’
She didn’t wait for an answer, just moved off towards the counter. Claire sighed. ‘I won’t,’ she said, and zipped the backpack. She waited for a few minutes, but the crowd was getting thicker, and Eve was nowhere in sight. She stood up, stepped out of the way of a group of boys, and backed into a table in the shadowy corner.
‘Hey,’ a voice said softly. She looked back and saw a coffee cup tipping over, and a pale, long-fingered hand catching it before it did. The hand belonged to a young man – she couldn’t really call him a boy – with thick dark hair and light-coloured eyes, who’d claimed the table when she wasn’t looking.
‘Sorry,’ she said. He smiled at her and licked acouple of drops of coffee from the back of his hand with a pale tongue.
She felt something streak hot down her backbone, and shivered. He smiled wider.
‘Sit,’ he said. ‘I’m Brandon. You?’
‘Claire,’ she heard herself say, and even though she didn’t intend to, she sat, backpack thumping on the floor beside her. ‘Um, hi.’
‘Hello.’ His eyes weren’t just light; they were – pale, a shade of blue so faint it was almost silver. Scary-cool. ‘Are you here alone, Claire?’
‘I – no, I – ah—’ She was babbling like an idiot, and didn’t know what was wrong with her. The way he was looking at her made her feel naked. Not in a secretly cool, wow-I-think-he-likes-me way, but in a way that made her want to hide and cover herself. ‘I’m here with a friend.’
‘A friend,’ he said, and reached across to take her hand. She wanted to pull it back – she did – but somehow she couldn’t get control of herself. All she could do was watch as he turned her hand palm down, and brought it to his mouth to kiss. The warm, damp pressure of his lips on her fingers made her shiver all over.
Then he brushed his thumb across her wrist. ‘Where is your bracelet, little Claire? Good girls wear their bracelets. Don’t you have one?’
‘I—’ There was something sick and terrible happening in her head, something that made her tell the truth. ‘No. I don’t have one.’ Because she knew now what Brandon was, and she was sorry she’d laughed at Eve, sorry she’d ever doubted any of it.
You’ll get yours , Monica had promised.
Well, here it was.
‘I see.’ Brandon’s eyes seemed to get even paler, until they were pure white with tiny black dots for pupils. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream. ‘The only question is who will
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