Rachel Caine - Fall of Night

‘Life doesn’t work that way, you know that.’

‘What if it did?’

‘We’d be living in a cardboard box and starving to death?’

‘Wow, you really know how to take the sexy away, don’t you?’

‘It’s a gift.’ Shane’s fingers stroked down her back, then up, in a mesmerisingly random pattern. ‘We should probably get up and make some dinner. Plus, I guess we should wash the sheets before Pete comes back. Seems like good manners.’

‘I’m amazed you even thought of it.’

‘I’m on my best behaviour.’

‘Mmm, I could easily argue with that. Oh …’ She caught her breath, suddenly, because he tried to prove her right. He kissed her shoulder, then her neck, then her mouth, and then the lazy peace turned intense again, for a while. This time, though, they were truly exhausted, and it took at least another half an hour of sleepily murmuring to each other before Claire finally managed to convince him to get up, dress, and help her strip the sheets and pillowcases from the bed. Pete had one of those tiny little washer/dryer combo units tucked in the corner, and she put everything in with detergent, then showered and left her hair wet as Shane squeezed in after she stepped out. There wasn’t room for two, which was probably good, considering how sore her muscles already felt. A good kind of sore, but still.

They were both dressed, if just barely, when the door rattled, the lock turned, and Pete stepped inside. He flipped the deadbolt behind him, and stopped dead at the end of the hall. Claire and Shane were sitting innocently on the couch; she was reading one of Pete’s books, a science fiction classic by Isaac Asimov she’d been meaning to find, and Shane was flipping channels on the TV.

Pete said, ‘Why are the sheets off my bed?’

‘Just trying to help you out, do a little housework,’ Shane said blandly. ‘Hey, man. Thanks for letting us stay for a while.’

‘If by a while you mean until dawn , then yeah, cheers,’ Pete said. ‘You’ve got serious heat on you, man. I’m not just talking about the cops. Scary suit-wearing types, you know the ones, Claire. You’ve seen them before. They were looking for you, and they came looking for Shane, too. Whatever you’re in, you’re in deep. About my bed, did you two—?’

‘Look at it this way, we did laundry,’ Shane said. ‘If it was the couch …’

‘This is why I hate house guests,’ Pete said. ‘So. Pizza okay?’

They both nodded. Claire said, ‘I’m sorry about the bed, Pete. Thanks.’

‘I’m just messing with you. Hell, that’s the most fun that bed’s had in ages. If you’re about to ask if I’ve heard from Jesse, no, I haven’t. She never showed for her shift, which bugged the crap out of Mick, believe me; he was already stressed enough about you and your big bag of fun illegal weapons you were keeping on his property, Shane. Why the hell didn’t you tell me about that?’

‘What would you have done?’

‘Told Mick.’

‘That’s why I didn’t tell you. Look, man, it’s not that I’m some nutcase with a gun collection; everything I have in there goes toward keeping me and Claire safe from what you already know is out there.’

Pete wasn’t stupid, and his eyes narrowed and turned flinty-dark as he reached for the telephone. ‘Jesse’s not the problem here.’

‘Jesse’s a vampire. Whether or not she’s trouble, she’s proof that there could be others out here who aren’t so well behaved. You hang out with her … you know how dangerous she can be. Right?’

‘She’s one of the least dangerous people I know, because she does exactly what she means to do, every time. She’s never lost control of herself, not even once. Can’t say that for a lot of humans.’ He held up a finger to pause the conversation, and ordered a pizza delivery. He didn’t ask what they wanted, which Claire thought was probably fair enough; they’d abused his hospitality a bit, though he probably hadn’t expected anything else. Once he’d hung up, he went right back to the subject at hand. ‘I swear to God, if your troubles drag her out into any kind of real trouble, the ass-kicking you got last night will be a love tap, and I will use your skull for a hockey puck.’

Shane considered that for a second in silence. Claire could tell he took Pete seriously, despite the differences in their height. Whatever fighting skills Pete had, clearly Shane had seen them and respected them. ‘Understood,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think any of it’s Claire’s fault. It seems like Jesse’s in deep with this Dr Anderson, and the government piece is coming from there. Cops, I’ve got no idea. I didn’t break any laws.’

‘She did,’ Pete said, and nodded toward Claire. ‘They’re saying you might have killed your roommate. And that Shane helped you. And by the way, your weapons stash doesn’t make you look any less guilty of that.’

‘I didn’t kill anybody ,’ Claire said. ‘Liz was abducted. Shane saw them. And Jesse’s trying to trace the van. Look, Shane’s got pictures.’

Shane pulled them up on the phone and held them out, and Pete looked them over. He seemed accepting of that, at least; he handed it back without comment except a nod. Then he went into the kitchenette and got out paper plates. ‘Beer?’ he asked them. ‘I’m not going to card you. That’s the day job.’

‘I’ll have one,’ Shane said, just as Claire said no; it wasn’t that she was some kind of anti-alcohol crusader, she just didn’t like beer, overall. Pete brought her a Coke instead, and then he settled in the small armchair off to the side of the couch. They all watched the TV flicker on in silence, a cold substitute for a fire, and finally Shane said, ‘So, I guess you two already know each other, but Pete, this is Claire, my—’

‘Fiancée,’ Claire said. She wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to say it now, of all times and places, but she was. Shane turned his head and stared at her, and the surprise (and pleasure) in his face made her smile. ‘Hey, you asked me, remember? And I said yes? Months ago. I just thought it might be time to get on with saying it.’

‘Fiancée,’ Shane repeated. ‘As in, I’m going to marry her.’

‘Yeah?’ Pete asked. ‘Congrats. When?’

‘We haven’t talked about that yet,’ Claire said. ‘Soon?’

‘Soon,’ Shane agreed. Their fingers twined together, and he moved closer to her on the couch. ‘Of course, it could be a jailhouse romance if we’re not careful. And that would suck. We already did that a whole bunch, early on. Me in a cell, you outside …’

‘Well, for variety, maybe it’d be me in the cell this time, and you out there figuring out how to get me free. Although I’m just afraid that you might do something crazy to make that happen.’

‘It might involve illegal activity, yeah,’ Shane said. ‘I wouldn’t even mind ending up in jail with you, but they’d probably separate us. And that wouldn’t be what I had in mind. I guess our only option is to stay out of the cage, then.’

‘I think it’s a goal,’ she agreed. ‘Did you hear anything at all from Jesse, Pete?’

‘I got a text, she said she was following a lead. That was it. I’m hoping she’ll end up here soon … she usually just drops in without notice. Vampires aren’t real respecters of personal privacy, seems like.’

The washer dinged to let them know the cycle was done, and Claire quickly rose and took care of loading the wet sheets into the dryer. It seemed like the least she could do. Pete and Shane didn’t chat. It wasn’t like Shane and Michael, who had an easy, almost unconscious connection that neither of them really had to think about much; Shane had to read Pete, try to figure out what he really meant and felt. Maybe that connection would develop, over time, but for now, Pete just seemed a little guarded, a little wary.