Rachel Caine - Dead Girls' Dance

“What?’” she asked. “Shane?’”

“You could have died,’” he said. “You’re sixteen, Claire.’”

“Nearly seventeen.’” She moved up against his side, cuddling close.

“Yeah, that makes it all better. Look—’”

“You want to wait?’”

“Yeah,’” he said. “Well, obviously, not my first choice, but I’m all about second thoughts right now. But the thing is…I don’t want to leave you.’” His arm was around her, and there was nothing in the world to her but the warmth of his body against her, and his whisper, and the utterly vulnerable need in his eyes. “But it’s not going to be easy for me to say no. So help me out here.’”

Her heart was pounding. “You want to stay?’”

“Yes. I—’” He opened his mouth, then closed it, then tried again. “I need to stay. I need you.’”

She kissed him, very gently. “Then stay.’”

“Okay, but so far as baseball goes, second base is as far as I go.’”

“You’re sure about that?’”

“I swear.’”

And somehow, he kept his word, no matter how hard she tried to convince him.

Shane was still asleep, curled in a heap among the pillows, snoring lightly. She’d gotten his shirt off at some point, and Claire lay in the soft glow of the rising sun, watching the light gleaming on the strong muscles of his back. She wanted to touch him…but she didn’t want him to wake up. He needed to sleep, and she had something she had to do.

Something he wasn’t going to like.

Claire eased out of bed, moving very carefully, and found her blue jeans crumpled on the floor. The envelope was still in the back pocket. She opened it and slipped out the stiff, formal paper, unfolded it, and read the note again.

She put the contract on the desk, looked at Shane, and thought about the risk of losing him. Of Eve and Michael, too.

I, Claire Elizabeth Danvers, swear my life, my blood, and my service…

Shane had said she was a hero, but she didn’t feel like one. She felt like a scared teenager with a whole lot to lose. I can’t watch him get hurt, she thought. Not if there’s anything I can do to stop it. Michael—Eve—I can’t take the risk.

How bad could it be?

Claire opened the drawer and found a pen.