“Some,” she said. She could feel the slow trickle of it soaking through her clothes. “But not as bad.” That might have been wishful thinking, which was the only kind of thinking she could do right now. “Thank you. If you hadn’t come with us …” I’d be dead. And Eve. And Shane. Maybe Michael, too, because he’d have tried to get us all back.

Richard nodded, not refusing the thanks but not making a big deal out of it, either; he just let it roll off him without really registering. “He’s strong, Claire,” he said. “He held on. That means a lot.”

“I never should have left him,” she said. “Oh God, this is my fault, my fault.” She started crying, heavy, aching tears that pushed up from the core of her body. They tasted as salty as Shane’s blood when she kissed his cheek and buried her face in the hollow of his neck.

She felt Richard’s gentle touch on her back. “Sometimes things just happen,” he said. “It’s not right. It’s not fair. But it’s nobody’s fault, Claire. So don’t do that. Don’t take it all on yourself. I promise you, it’s the last thing he wants you to do.”

She nodded, but she didn’t really feel it.

“About my sister,” he said. “She was a sweet kid, you know. When she was little. Used to come home crying every day in first grade. Everybody hated her, because her dad was the mayor. So by second grade, she gave it right back. She started fighting back when nobody was coming at her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

He shrugged. “I thought you should know she wasn’t always … what she is. She was made that way. Not born. She can change. I’m hoping she will.”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “Me too.”

Richard patted her on the shoulder again, and withdrew over to the wall of the truck.

Shane held on to her with desperate strength, all the way to Founder’s Square.

Shane needed a transfusion.

When Theo told her, Claire burst into tears again, frantic ones. Eve hugged her from one side, Michael from the other, until she calmed down enough to listen to what Dr. Goldman had to say.

“He did lose a lot of blood,” Theo said very gently, and captured her bloodstained right hand in both of his as he stood in front of her. She, Eve, and Michael were sitting in some antique white chairs in the anteroom of what had become Theo’s makeshift hospital; as waiting rooms went, it was fancy, but cold. “The transfusion will help replace that volume quickly, and it will take about four hours; I doubt there will be any ill effects, though he may continue to have some weakness as his body recovers. I tested him, since the draug carry diseases at times, but it appears he is clear of that, which is a lucky thing. All he needs is blood for now, and rest. He should be better very soon, I promise you.” He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Has anyone told you how much of a miracle that is? That he, a human, survived?”