“Thank you,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Please don’t let go.”

We held hands in the aisle, even if it meant struggling to maneuver around the people slinging bags into the overhead compartments. We settled into our seats, and Collin wedged his case against his legs. Shuddering at the crowd’s potential fates, he leaned his forehead against my shoulder.

The little old lady sitting across the aisle from us glared at him, her dentures flashing. “She’s allowed to walk on her own, sonny. You don’t have to keep ahold of her.”

Collin’s jaw dropped, and his hold on my hand tightened.

“It’s his first time on the bus,” I assured her. “He gets carsick. He’s just a little nervous.”

“Never could stand a clingy fella.” She sniffed. “Grow a pair, sonny.”

To keep from laughing, I bit my lip so hard that it bled. He leaned in and licked the wound closed for me. The bus started and rolled forward. We got comfortable in our worn leatherette seats. I rested my chin on his shoulder and whispered, “You know what I’ve noticed? People don’t like you.”

“I’m very likable!” he protested.

I looked over to the old lady, who was shaking her head.

“I like you,” I assured him. “I like you very much.”

“Well, that’s a comfort,” he said, pouting slightly. I leaned forward and caught his lip between mine, biting down. He groaned, pushing me back slightly. I could hear the little old lady chuckling.

Just then, the headrest of the seat in front of me slammed back, whacking me in the temple. “Oof! Really?” I griped. “Before the bus even pulls out?”

“I paid for the seat, lady,” groused the mountain of a man sitting in the seat in front of mine. “Deal with it.”

Collin’s fangs snicked out, but I squeezed his hand and shook my head. He put the fangs away and settled for glowering at the back of the man’s head.

Unfortunately, the giant pile of misanthrope sitting in front of me didn’t limit himself to rearranging my face with his headrest. For the next hour, the poor woman next to him had to hear his opinions on the health-care crisis, the economy, and “kids today” and how the current president was responsible for it all. And vampires. And any other minority you could think of. All in a loud foghorn voice that reminded me of my uncles after a few beers.

“I’m going to kill him just to shut him up,” Collin muttered.

“I’ll help you hide the body,” I promised.

The braying political commentator finally quieted, and I saw his seatmate’s shoulders relax. He stood to get something out of the overhead bin. As he moved, the zipper from his jacket whipped against my face. I winced, rubbing my hand over my cheek. Collin arched his eyebrow as my fingers snaked up. When the jerk sat back down, I had the contents of his wallet—two twenties and a handful of ones—crumpled into my palm.

Collin’s mouth popped open. “What are you—”

I shushed him gently, waiting for the woman in front of us to lean toward the window. When her head turned, I slipped my hand through the gap in the seats and dropped the cash into her breast pocket. I considered it hazard pay. The loud guy plopped back into his seat, none the wiser.

Collin whispered, “Morlock the Magician?”

I smirked. “I was always good with sleight-of-hand. Birds, not so much.”

“I’m continually amazed by the skills you have picked up along your way. What will you take away from your time with me, I wonder?”

“A profound fear of ravines and root cellars,” I muttered.

“The root cellar wasn’t all bad,” he murmured.

“A commitment to carry an industrial-sized can of anti-automotive-boob touch-up paint in every car I drive?”

He squeezed my hand. “I would hope that wouldn’t happen to any person more than once.”

“A distrust of any man bearing jewelry, family heirloom or otherwise?”

He chuckled. “I will remember you said that when we reach a gift-giving occasion.”

I shot him an incredulous look. He expected us to reach a gift-giving occasion? He said “when,” not “if.” He planned to spend more time with me. I tamped down the excited butterflies swooping through my belly. I didn’t know how to respond, what to say. So I just smiled and kept his hand clasped in mine. I kept him entertained with observations about our fellow passengers for the three-hour ride.

“When we arrive in the Hollow, what are your plans?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “A lot depends on how Iris reacts to her car being vaporized.”

“I told you, I’ll take responsibility for the car,” he said. “Do you think you would be interested—”

The driver’s voice boomed over the PA. “Folks, we are five minutes away from our stop in lovely downtown St. Louis. Please remember to stay seated until the bus comes to a complete stop. Standing to reach items in the overhead compartment can result in fallen luggage and cranky seatmates.”

I smiled slightly. “Would I be interested in what?”

“Driving me back home?” he asked sheepishly. “I don’t think I would trust anyone else with my safety.”

“Well, that’s just sad.”

FRIENDSHIPS SHOULDN’T BE FORMED IN PARKING LOTS

11

Marion, Illinois, was home to one of the highest-security prisons in the country. The inmate Hall of Fame included Noriega, John Gotti, and, most chillingly, Pete Rose. Needless to say, I was a little bit nervous when the driver unceremoniously dropped us at a bus depot five miles from the prison. Knowing my luck, there would be a jailbreak, and I would end up cannon fodder in some sort of standoff. I stuck close to Collin’s side as we exited the squat little concrete building marked “DEP T.” I think someone had stolen the O.

“How much time do we have?” I asked.

“Two hours until midnight,” he said. “What now?”

“I was really hoping you had some ideas,” I told him. “I am fresh out.”

The depot parking lot was dimly lit by badly maintained streetlamps, casting long shadows over the handful of cars parked there. In the far corner of the lot, a tall man with dirty-blond hair was leaning against the side of a dark blue El Camino, talking on his cell phone. On his bumper was a large blue and white sticker that read, “Howl, Half-Moon Howlers, Howl!” I edged a bit closer and saw that the bottom of his license plate read, “McClure County.”

“No way.” I laughed. “He’s from Half-Moon Hollow!”

Collin drew his brows up. “Yes, and you seem very excited about it.”

“We could ask him for a ride,” I said, pulling Collin behind a partition outside the station so we could watch the man discreetly.

“Are you serious?” he scoffed. “You’re nervous driving past a prison, but you’re willing to solicit a ride from a stranger?”

“Don’t say ‘solicit.’ It makes it sound dirty. And something good has to happen tonight, right? What are the odds of someone from the Hollow parking right outside the bus depot when we happen to get off the bus? It’s like a sign. And I don’t even believe in signs.”

“You can’t be serious!” he exclaimed. “What happened to being annoyed by cockeyed optimism?”

“This is more like reckless desperation,” I said. “We’re out of options, unless you’re open to the idea of grand theft auto. We’ve come too far to give up now, Collin. If I backed away, could you get an idea of whether it would work out?”

He nodded, and I made myself busy with the barely functioning soda machine near the door. When I came back, sipping a tepid Coke, Collin was frowning.

“Not him,” he insisted.

“Why not him?”

“He’s a vampire.”

“So are you.”

“But I’m a trustworthy vampire. He’s decidedly … untrustworthy,” he said, glaring in the direction of the El Camino. “Back-alley deals and seedy connections.”

“But no violent tendencies or dead hookers in his trunk?”

“No,” he conceded. “But it’s an El Camino. He doesn’t have a trunk.”

“I’ll be fine, I’m sure. You’ll be right there with me, right?”

“I will, but not where he can see,” Collin grumbled. “If you’re alone, he’ll be more likely to help you. I don’t know if that makes me trust him more or less.”

“So what are you going to do?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” he said. “Just play up your ability to find trouble in an empty room. It will remind him of someone and make him more sympathetic to your plight. I’ll be right behind you. Signal me if you get the least bit uncomfortable.”

“Thank you,” I said as he pecked me on the lips.

“I think this is a terrible idea,” he told me.

“I appreciate your candor. Now, shut the hell up and get out of sight.”

As I approached, the blond vampire shut his cell phone with a curse. I slumped my shoulders and did my best to look beaten and defeated. It wasn’t difficult. I wrung my hands as I approached the car, letting my nervous energy carry me forward, and pitched my voice in a distressed octave.

“Hi. You wouldn’t be from Half-Moon Hollow, would you?”

The vampire’s eyebrow arched. “Are you Frankie’s girl?”

“No. Should I be?”

He huffed out a frustrated growl. “Look, honey, I don’t mean to be rude. But I’m waiting for a guy. Probably would be better if you weren’t here when he shows up.”

“That would be difficult, since I don’t have any way to go … elsewhere. I’m pretty much stuck here without a way home. I was hoping you might be heading back there tonight?”

His mouth was pinched and annoyed, but the sea-water green eyes were soft and just a little concerned. Collin was right; this guy was a marshmallow inside. I launched into my diatribe, letting just a little bit of tear-stained hysteria creep into my voice. “Look, I’m from the Hollow, too. And I hate to ask this of you, but I need a ride home. I got stranded with this guy, and he’s just—gone. He disappeared. Now I’m flat broke, and my car’s in little bitty pieces at the bottom of a ravine, which is OK, because that means I don’t have to explain the boobs on the hood. And there was a washed-out bridge and a scissor-happy hotel clerk and rednecks with silver chains. And I just really need someone to help me. Could you see it in your heart to help out a damsel in distress?”

The green eyes widened, and there was just the hint of a smirk at the corners of his mouth. “Look, sweetheart, about five years ago, I would have eaten you up, but I’m happily married now. I don’t bite and bang anymore—”

“No, no!” I exclaimed, raising my hands. “I really just need a ride.”

He stared at me for a long while, considering. “Just a ride,” he repeated sternly. “No funny business.”

“You can search me for silver if you want to.”

“I’ll do that,” he promised. Behind us, I heard the crackle of tires rolling over gravel. Another car was pulling into the parking lot. The vampire opened the door for me. “Why don’t you get into the car and wait here? Stay down. If you hear anything, you need to get out and run.”

I froze, and he nudged me none too gently toward the car. “What?”

“There’s a small matter of business I need to conduct,” he said. “And my contact was supposed to be here hours ago. Now that he’s here, it could get ugly.”

“Wait, wait, what sort of business are you into?” I demanded.