tle, as if he were cold, but Claire realized that his face was flushed and he was sweating. It wasn’t too hot in here— probably air-conditioned for the comfort of the guards. He really didn’t look

good, Claire thought, and she took his hand. It felt hot— feverish.

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Was he sick? She could feel the tremors going through him, over

and over.

“Shane? What’s wrong? You’re burning up!” Claire put the

back of her hand against his forehead— or tried to. He knocked

her arm away. It shocked her, and it surprised him, too. She saw

the instant regret in his eyes, but when he tried to talk, he gagged.

“Shane?”

“I need to get out,” he said. “Can’t stay here—” He couldn’t get

the rest out, just kept gagging. His face looked gray and damp.

“Take him outside and let him have some fresh air,” Hannah

said. “I’ll stay here with Eve. Nothing will harm her.”

Claire didn’t want to go; she didn’t want Eve to feel alone and

abandoned. But something was clearly very wrong with Shane, and

getting worse with every breath he took. She didn’t debate it any

further. She just grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the light

streaming in through the thick glass doors. When she tried the

metal handle, it didn’t move. Locked. She knocked urgently on the

glass, and the policeman outside finally opened it— but blocked

her way. “Just a minute,” he said. “Where’s Chief Moses?”

“It’s okay, Bud,” Hannah called from behind him. “Let them out.”

He didn’t seem inclined, but he did step back, and Claire

pulled Shane over the threshold and down the sidewalk, out into

the bright, harsh sunlight and the dry desert air. He practically

folded up once they reached the curb, and sat down hard there, his

head in his hands. The tremors, though, were lessening, and as she

stroked his hair she thought he was getting better. “Shane?” she

asked. “Shane, what the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” he said, and gulped air. “God. I don’t know. It

felt like I was burning up from the inside out. Maybe— maybe

you’d better go back in, for Eve. I can’t, Claire. I just can’t.”

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Rachel Caine

“Why not?”

He was definitely, inexplicably better out here, away from the

mall and the vamps. And as he looked up, she saw the strange light

in his eyes. It looked almost like fear.

“Because I want to kill them,” he said. “The vampires. I want

to kill them all. It’s like what I’ve felt my whole life, but turned up to eleven. And if I go back in there, I don’t think I can control it.”

She stared at him, shocked, and he lifted his shoulders in a very

small shrug. He still looked unnaturally flushed, and sweat pasted

thin strings of hair to his forehead.