“Claire,” he said quietly. She looked back at him. “Brandon’s too young to be out before dark, so you’re safe in the daytime, but don’t stay out after dark. Got it?”

She nodded.

“About the other thing…”

“I won’t tell,” she said. “I won’t, Michael. Not if you don’t want me to.”

He let out his breath in a long, slow sigh. “Thanks. I know it sounds stupid, but…I just don’t want them to know yet. I need to figure out how to tell them.”

“It’s your business,” Claire said. “And Michael? If you start, you know, getting this craving for red stuff…?”

“You’ll be the first to know,” he said. His eyes were steady and cool. “And I expect you to do whatever you have to do to stop me.”

She shivered and said yes, okay, she’d stake him if she had to, but she didn’t mean it.

She hoped she didn’t, anyway.

8

Shane’s turn for cooking dinner, and he came up with chili dogs—more chili, but at least he did a good job with it. Claire had two, watching in amazement as Michael and Shane downed four each, and Eve nibbled one. She smiled at Shane, and shot back barbs whenever he sent one sailing her way, but Claire noticed something else.

Eve couldn’t keep her eyes off of Michael. At first, Claire thought, She knows something, but then she saw the flush in Eve’s cheeks showing through the pale makeup, and the glitter in her eyes.

Oh. Well, she guessed Michael had looked pretty hot, grabbing her out of danger like that and dragging her out of harm’s way. And now that she thought about it, Eve had been making little glances his direction every time they’d been together.

Eve finally shoved her plate away and claimed dibs on the bathroom for a long, hot, soaking bubble bath. Which Claire wished she’d thought of first. She and Michael did the dishes while Shane practiced his zombie-fighting skills on Xbox.

“Eve likes you, you know,” she said casually as she was rinsing off the last plate. He nearly dropped the one he was drying.

“What?”

“She does.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“No.”

“I don’t think you understand Eve, then.”

“Don’t you like her?”

“Of course I like her!”

“Enough to…?”

“I am not talking about this.” He put the plate into the drainer. “Jesus, Claire!”

“Oh, come on. You like her, don’t you?”

“Even if I did—” He stopped short, glancing toward the doorway and lowering his voice. “Even if I did, there are a few problems, don’t you think?”

“Everybody’s got problems,” she said. “Especially in this town. I’ve only been here six weeks, and I already know that.”