He didn’t have time to argue, though she could see he wanted to. He walked down the hall; she heard his bedroom door close, and thought about what she’d seen downstairs in the living room. She wasn’t sure how she’d handle that if she had to face it every day—it looked really painful. She supposed the worst of it, though, was his knowing that if he’d been alive, been able to walk around in the daylight, he’d have been able to stop Shane from doing what he’d done.

I wouldn’t have to if you’d step up and watch my back! Shane had yelled at him, and yeah, that must have hurt just about worse than dying.

Claire went back to work. Her eyes burned, her muscles ached, but in some strange and secret place, she was happy to finally be doing something that wasn’t just protecting herself, but protecting other people, too.

If it worked.

The strange thing was, she just knew it would. She knew.

She really was a freak, she decided.

Claire woke up at three thirty, bleary-eyed and aching, and struggled into a fresh T-shirt and a pair of jeans that badly needed washing. One more day, she decided, and then she’d brave the washing machine in the basement. She had monster bed-head, even though she’d barely slept for three hours, and had to stick her head under the faucet and finger fluff her hair back to something that wasn’t too puke-worthy.

She stuck the laptop into the messenger-bag case and dashed downstairs; she could hear Eve’s shoes clumping through the house, heading for the door.

“Wait up!” she yelled, and pelted down the stairs and through the living room just as the front door slammed. “Crap…”

She opened it just before Eve succeeded in locking it. Eve looked guilty. “You were going to leave me,” Claire said. “I told you I wanted to go!”

“Yeah, well…you shouldn’t.”

“Michael talked to you last night.”

Eve sighed and fidgeted one black patent leather shoe. “Little bit, yeah. Before he went to bed.”

“I don’t need everybody protecting me. I’m trying to help!”

“I get it,” Eve said. “If I say no and drive off, what are you going to do?”

“Walk.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Eve shrugged. “Get in the car.”

Common Grounds was packed with students reading, chatting, drinking chai and mochas and lattes. And, Claire was gratified to see, working on laptops. There must have been a dozen going at once. She gave Eve a thumbs-up, ordered a cup of tea, and went in search of a decent spot to work. Something with her back to the wall.