Michael’s lip curled. “Brandon’s a punk. You could melt him with a Super Soaker full of tap water, so long as you told him it was blessed. He’s dangerous, but so far as vampires go, he’s at the bottom of the food chain. It’s the ones who don’t go around flashing fangs and trying to grab you off the street you need to worry about. And yeah, wear a cross—but keep it under your clothes. You’ll have to make one if you don’t already have one—they don’t sell them anywhere in town. And if you can find things like holy water and Eucharist, keep them on hand, but the vampires in this town closed down most of the churches fifty years ago. There’s still a few operating underground. Be careful, though. Don’t believe everything you hear, and never, ever go by yourself.”

That was the longest speech she’d ever heard from Michael. It tumbled out in a flood, driven with intensity and frustration. He can’t do anything. He can’t do anything to help us when we go outside the door.

“Why did you let us move in?” she asked. “After—what happened to you?”

He smiled. It didn’t look quite right somehow. “I got lonely,” he said. “And since I can’t leave the house, there’s too much I can’t do. I needed somebody to help with groceries and stuff. And…being a ghost doesn’t exactly pay the bills. Shane—Shane was looking for a place to stay, and he said he’d pitch in for rent. It was perfect. Then Eve…we were friends back in high school. I couldn’t just let her wander around out there after her parents threw her out.”

Claire tried to remember what Eve had said. Nothing, really. “Why did they do that?”

“She wouldn’t take Protection from their Patron when she turned eighteen. Plus, she started dressing Goth when she was about your age. Said she was never going to kiss any vampire ass, no matter what.” Michael made a helpless gesture with his hands. “At eighteen, they threw her out. Had to, or it would have cost the whole family their Protection. So she’s on her own. She’s done okay—she’s safe here, and she’s safe at the coffee shop. It’s only the rest of the time she has to be careful.”

Claire couldn’t think of anything to say. She looked away from Michael, around the room. His bed was made. Oh my God, that’s his bed. She tried to imagine Michael sleeping there, and couldn’t. Although she could imagine some other things, and shouldn’t have because it made her feel hot and embarrassed.