The Dead Girl's Dance

Chapter Four


Shane nodded, but he looked bleak. I cant come with you.

Yes, you can! Shane

Hes my dad, Eve. Hes all Ive got.

Eve snorted. Yeah, well, what youve got Id give back.

Sure, you just walked away from your folks

Hey!

Didnt even care what happened to them

They didnt care what happened to me! Eve almost shouted it. Suddenly, the hockey stick in her hands wasnt so much for display. Leave my family out of this, Shaneyou dont have a clue. Not a clue.

Ive met your brother, Shane shot back.

They both went quiet. Dangerously quiet. Claire cleared her throat. Brother?

Leave it alone, Claire, Eve said. She sounded dead calm, not at all like herself. You really dont want to get into it.

Bones in every family closet in Morganville, Shane said. Yours rattle pretty loud, Eve. So dont judge me.

Heres a thought: why dont you get the hell out of my room, you asshole!

Shane picked up his crowbar, opened the door, and stepped outside. He reached down and hauled the biker to his feet, and shoved him toward the stairs. The biker went, still groaning and weaving.

Claire peeked through the gap in the door until she was sure they were gone, then nodded to Eve, who dumped the hockey stick and opened the closet door. Oh, crap, she sighed. I hope nothings torn in there. It is not easy to get clothes in this town. Michael?

Claire looked over her shoulder. A pile of black and red netting stirred, and Michaels blond head appeared. He sat up, brushing off Goth, and silently held up a pair of black lace panties. Thong.

Hey! Eve yelped, and grabbed them from his fingers. Personal! Andlaundry!

Michael just smiled. For a guy whod been stabbed, hacked up, and buried less than twenty-four hours ago, he looked remarkably composed. Im not even going to ask what you wore them with, he said. Its more fun to imagine.

Eve snorted and gave him a hand up. Shanes taken our new boyfriend downstairs. What now? We cant exactly shimmy down a drainpipe.

Not in fishnets, you cant, he agreed, straight-faced. Get changed. The less attention you attract from these guys, the better.

Eve grabbed a pair of blue jeans from the floor of the closet, and a baby-doll T that must have been a gift; it was aqua blue, with a sparkle rainbow over the chest. Very not Eve. She glared at Michael and tapped her foot.

What? he asked.

Gentlemen turn around. Or so Ive heard.

He faced the corner. Eve stripped off her spiderweb-lace shirt and the red top beneath, and stepped out of the red and black tartan skirt. The fishnets were garterstotally sexy. Not a word, she warned Claire, and rolled them down. She didnt take her eyes off of Michael. There was red burning hot in her cheeks.

Dressing took thirty seconds, and then Eve grabbed up the scattered clothes, the garter belt, and the fishnets, and stuffed them into the closet before saying, Okay, you can turn around.

Michael did, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. He was smiling slightly, eyes half-closed.

What? Eve demanded. She was still blushing. Dont I look stupid enough now?

You look great, he said, and crossed to kiss her lightly on the lips. Go wash your face.

Eve went to the bathroom and shut the door. Claire said, Youve got some kind of a plan, right? Because we dont. Well, Shane thinks we should let his dad do whatever, and run, but Eve doesnt think its a good idea

Its suicide, Michael said flatly. Shanes dad is an idiot, and hes going to get Shane killed. You, too.

But you have got a plan.

Yeah, Michael said. I have a plan.

When Eve came back from the bathroom, Michael put his finger to his lips again, unlocked the door, and walked them across the hall. He reached behind the picture frame and pushed the hidden button, and the paneling creaked open to reveal one of the secret rooms of the Glass House. Amelies room, Claire remembered. The one the vampire liked the best, probably because there were no windows and the only exit was from a concealed button. How weird was it to be living in a house builtand, really, ownedby a vampire?

Inside, Michael whispered. Eve. Cell phone?

She patted her pockets, held up a finger, and dashed back to her room. She came back holding it up. Michael hustled them up the narrow staircase, and the door hissed shut behind them. No knob on this side, either.

Upstairs, the room was just as Claire had last seen itelegant Victorian splendor, a little dusty. This room, like all of the house, seemed to have a sense of something present in it, something just out of sight. Ghosts, she thought. But Michael seemed to be the only ghost, and he was as normal as could be.

Then again, the house was alive, kind of, and it was keeping Michael alive, too. So maybe not so normal.

Phone, Michael said, and held out his hand as he sat down on the couch. Eve handed it over, frowning.

Just who are you planning to call? she asked. Ghostbusters? Its not like we have a lot of options.

Michael grinned at her and pressed three keys, then activated the call. The response was nearly immediate. Hello, 911? This is Michael Glass, 716 Lot Street. I have intruders in my house. No, I dont know who they are, but there are at least three of them.

Eves mouth flopped open in surprise, and Claire blinked, too. Calling the police seemed sonormal. And so wrong.

You might want to tell the officers that this house and its occupants are under the Founders Protection, he said. They can verify that, I guess.

He smiled and hung up a moment later, handed the phone back, and looked very smug.

And Shane? Claire asked. What about Shane?

Michaels self-assurance faded. Hes making his own choices, he said. Hed want me to look out for the two of you first. And the only way I can do that is to get these guys out of my house. I cant protect you twenty-four/sevenin the daytime, youre vulnerable. And Im not going to float around and watch while you get He didnt finish, but Claireand Eveknew where that was going. They both nodded. Once theyre out of the house, I can keep them from coming back, unless Shane lets them in. Or one of you, though I cant see that happening.

More headshakes, this time more violent. Michael kissed Eves forehead with obvious affection, and ruffled Claires hair. Then this is the best way, he said. Itll shake them up, anyway.

Im sorry, Eve said in a small voice. I didnt thinkIm so used to thinking of the cops as enemies, and besides, they were just trying to kill us. Right?

Things change. We have to adapt.

Michael was pretty much the king of that, Claire thought. Hed gone from a serious musician with his whole focus on making a name for himself, to a part-time ghost trapped in a house, to a part-time ghost trapped in a house forced to take in roommates to make the bills. And now he was trying to save their lives, and he still couldnt escape himself.

Michael was just soresponsible. Claire couldnt even imagine how someone got that way. Maturity, she guessed, but that was a lot like a road through fog to her. She had no idea how she was supposed to get there. Then again, she supposed nobody really did know, and you just stumbled through it.

They waited.

After about five minutes there was a wail of sirens in the distancevery faint, because the room was well soundproofed. That meant the sirens were close. Maybe even by the house already. Claire rose and pressed the button concealed in the lions-head arm of the couch, and the sirens immediately increased in volume as the secret door opened. She hurried down the steps and peered out. No one in the hallway, but from downstairs she heard angry shouting, and then the sound of a door banging open. Motorcycle engines roaring, tires squealing.

Theyre going, she yelled up, and pelted out into the hallway, down the stairs, breathless to find Shane.

Shane was up against the wall, and his father was holding him by the throat. Outside, police sirens suddenly cut off.

Traitor, Shanes dad said. He had a knife in his hand. Youre a traitor. Youre dead to me.

Claire skidded to a stop, found her voice, and said, Sir, youd better get out of here unless you want to end up talking to the vampires.

Shanes father turned his face toward her, and his expression was twisted with fury. You little bitch, he said. Turning my son against me.

No Shane grabbed at his fathers hand, trying to pry it free. Dont Claire backed up. For a second, neither Shane nor his dad moved, and then Shanes father let him go, and raced for the kitchen door. Shane dropped to his knees, choking, and Claire went to him

just as the front door banged open, splintering around the lock, and the police charged in.

Oh man, Shane whispered, that sucks. We just fixed that door.

Claire clung to him, terrified, as the police swarmed through the house.
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