Rachel Caine - Fall of Night

‘Oh yeah,’ I said. ‘You’ve saved me plenty of times. I got the point. But nobody from Morganville ought to be out there alone. It isn’t safe, and you know it.’

‘Nothing’s safe,’ Claire told me then, with the conviction of someone a lot older. ‘Nobody’s ever safe. But that doesn’t mean you don’t respect what I want, Shane.’

‘I’m sorry I let you down,’ I said. ‘But I couldn’t stay there while you were here. Not without making sure you’d be okay. Like you said, Morganville conditioning. If you want me to go, I’ll go. Just tell me. Right now.’

I’d startled her, and worried her, and forced her to stop analysing, and she blinked slowly and said, ‘I don’t want you to go. I missed you, Shane. I missed you so much.’

Her voice broke on the last word, and I saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes. Tension unwound from a coil inside me, and I wanted to put my arms around her and hold her … but then the waiter appeared near our table again and pointedly cleared his throat, and I resisted the urge to throw a sharp, illegal elbow into his midsection.

‘We’re going,’ I told him, and stood up without letting go of Claire’s hand. I pulled her to her feet. ‘Come on. I’ll make you coffee at Florey’s.’

We made it only half a block before I couldn’t stand it any more. I stopped, pressed her against the brick side of a building, and leant in. I managed to stop myself just short of kissing her, and said, ‘Is this okay?’

‘Shut up,’ Claire said, and grabbed me by the collar to pull me into her.

It was like falling into summer … warm and sweet and hot. I’d needed to touch her, and I had; I’d needed to kiss her, and the damp, soft feel of her warm mouth did all kinds of things to me. Sweet relief, and desperate tension, all at the same time. It went on for a while, lips and tongues meeting and merging, and I was the one who stepped away first, because damn , I’d forgotten the power of that between us. How she made me feel. How I made her feel. My sweet little Claire’s lips had gone red and flushed, and her cheeks were pink, and her eyes very bright. She looked drunk with pleasure and delight, and I imagined how she would look in the morning light, the way I loved to see her best.

I squeezed her hand and said, ‘I need to get you home. Right now.’

She nodded and slipped her arm through mine, and we walked quickly the short distance to Florey’s.

When we turned the corner, though, there was a police car sitting in front, light bar flashing, and the manager Mick was in the door talking to two cops and looking very serious. I pulled Claire to a halt, and saw Mick spot me.

He gave me a slow tilt of the head to the side. Get out of here . I picked up the signal and backed Claire up. ‘Change of plans,’ I said. ‘Florey’s is out. Do you have some place else we can go?’

‘Not really – what’s going on?’

‘Not a clue, but whatever it is, remember that I’m from Morganville.’

She didn’t get it for a second, and then she looked sharply at me. ‘Oh God, Shane, did you bring weapons ?’

‘Only my favourites,’ I said. ‘But they’re kinda illegal.’

She shook her head and tugged at my hand. ‘Come on.’

Claire wasn’t sure that the police were actually after Shane, but if they were, staying in plain view was a bad idea. She bought (over his protests) an MIT hoodie for Shane from one of the souvenir shops, and he put it on with an annoyed sigh. She pulled the hood up for him. ‘Just trust me,’ she said. ‘You really need to lay low. These police aren’t going to be the kind that you can call off with a plea to the Founder; they’re serious stuff. And don’t forget, my own place is a crime scene. If they’ve connected me to you and found your weapons, it looks even worse.’

‘Okay,’ he said, ‘I can see your point. So where are we going to go? Got any friends who don’t mind hiding wanted fugitives? Because it usually takes a little longer than a few days to make those.’

Shane had a point, and she didn’t really have an answer, but it didn’t really matter. Shane had already pulled out his phone and checked something. He scrolled and hit keys, and put the phone to his ear.

‘Who are you calling?’ she asked.

‘Pete,’ he said. ‘Look, the guy hangs out with a vampire chick and is some kind of midnight vigilante. He probably isn’t too judgemental when it comes to hiding other people’s secrets.’

‘You think he knows about Jesse?’

‘Yeah, I’m sure he does. Hold on …’ Shane turned partially away from her, focusing on the new voice in his ear. ‘Hey, man, it’s Shane – yeah, I know about the cops. Speaking of that, I need someplace to get out of sight. You got any suggestions?’ He listened for a few seconds, then made a scribbling gesture to Claire, and she dug out a pen and paper and handed it over. Shane wrote something down and handed it back to her. It was an address. ‘Got it. I owe you, Pete. Big time.’

He hung up and dropped the phone in his hoodie’s pocket. Claire held up the address. ‘Where’s he sending us?’

‘His place,’ Shane said. ‘It’s not far.’ He offered her his elbow, and she threaded her arm through the crook, and they set off toward the south, down the tree-lined street. Funny how it felt so familiar , too … just another street in another town, but the two of them were together, and that made it home. Even knowing what she did – Liz missing, the police after Shane – she felt oddly peaceful now. Whatever was coming, they’d be facing it together.

Shane winced and let go of her to rub at his arm beneath the hoodie’s sleeve. ‘It’s nothing,’ he said before she could ask. ‘Itches like crazy, and it burns. I’ve never been allergic to anything, but maybe that’s what it is. Maybe I’m just allergic to hot, smart college girls.’

‘Ha, ha,’ she said, and reclaimed his other arm. ‘Maybe you’re allergic to being in trouble all the time.’

‘Nah, I’m completely inoculated against that one. It’s in the genes.’ Shane checked his piece of paper, then his phone’s map, and nodded up the street. ‘One block up, then right. His place will be on the left.’

There was no sign of police presence, at least, as they made the final turn and spotted the address on the note. It was a squat brick building dwarfed by the taller, more elegant row houses on either side, and to Claire’s eyes it looked more like a storage shed than a home. The front door was a faded green, plain wood, no design. She didn’t see any windows on this side of it.

‘Is he here?’ she asked.

‘No, but he told me how to get in.’ Shane walked up, counted bricks, and pulled one out. Behind it, he found the key, and used it to open the door. ‘After you.’

‘No, seriously, you go first. I hardly know this guy. What if he’s working with the people who took Liz?’

‘Pete?’ Shane shook his head, evidently finding the whole thought funny, though Claire felt it had been a pretty reasonable caution. ‘Never happen. But okay. I’ll protect you.’

She hit him in the shoulder. ‘I don’t need you to protect me.’

‘Then why am I going first?’

‘So you can take the first punch while I throw the second?’

‘So I’m bait? Ouch. You’ve been in Morganville way too long, girl.’ But he was grinning when he said it, and he went in first, alert and ready for anything. She came in behind him and shut the door – always cut off the ability of an enemy to sneak up behind you, if you can – and locked it. ‘Pete? Anybody here?’ He shook his head at the continued silence. ‘He said he doesn’t have any roommates. I think we’re good.’