“Some kind of,” Shane said. He’d put his hands on Claire, and now he wrapped his arms around her, and after a second, included Eve in the hug, too. “Thanks. I know you don’t believe us, but we’re not the bad guys here.”

“I’m starting to think you might be right about that.”

“What gave you your first clue? The fangs, or the door ripping?” Shane didn’t wait for an answer. “He’s not dead. He’s playing with you.”

“What?”

“You can’t kill him with that thing,” Eve said. “Can’t even slow him down, really.”

The sheriff whirled to stare at Morley, who was still facedown on the floor. He aimed his gun at the body again and kept it there.

Morley didn’t move.

“No, he’s down,” the sheriff said, and walked over to press fingers to Morley’s dirty neck. He yanked his hand away quickly, stumbling back. “He’s cold.”

Morley laughed, rolled over, and sat up, doing his very best risen-from-the-grave imitation. It helped that he was filthy and looked kind of crazy scary.

The sheriff backed away, far away, all the way to the wall, then aimed his gun at Morley and pulled the trigger, again.

Morley brushed his clothes lightly, dismissing the bullet even before the echoes from the shockingly loud gunshot stopped ringing in Claire’s ears. “Please,” he said, and practically levitated to his feet. He reached out and took the sheriff’s gun from him, then tossed it in the corner of the cell where Eve and Claire had been kept. “I hate loud noises. Unless it’s screaming. Screaming’s all right. Let me demonstrate.”

He reached out and grabbed the sheriff around the neck.

Something pale and very fast flashed through the doorway, and suddenly another vampire was there—Patience Goldman, with her slender hand wrapped around Morley’s wrist. She was a dark-haired young woman, pretty, with big dark eyes and skin that would have probably been olive had she still been alive. It added a honey undertone to her pallor.

“No,” Patience said. Claire had met her—and the entire Goldman family—more than once. She liked them, actually. For vampires, they had real concern for other people-as demonstrated by Patience’s trying to keep Morley from killing the sheriff. “There’s no need for this.”

Morley looked offended, and shoved her back with his free hand. “Do not lay hands on me, woman! This is none of your concern.”

“We came to—get supplies,” Patience said. She seemed uncomfortable with that, and Claire immediately realized that supplies was code for people-to eat. “We have what we need. Let’s go. The longer we delay, the more attention we attract. It’s unnecessary risk!”

Patience and Jacob, her brother, had been hanging out with Morley for a while, and they’d wanted to break out of Morganville, and their parents’ restrictions—Theo Goldman was a good guy, but kind of strict, as far as his family went, or at least that had been Claire’s impression. Claire could easily believe that Morley had convinced Patience and Jacob to come along, since he was leaving, anyway, but she also didn’t believe they’d go along with killing people.

Not unnecessarily, anyway. Vampires in general were a little shaky on the details of morality in that area—a hazard of being top predator, Claire guessed.

“Hmmm,” Morley said, and turned his gaze back to the sheriff. “She does have a point. Fortunately for you.” He released the man, who slammed back against the wall, looking sick and shaky. “Stay. If you move, speak, or in any way irritate me, I’ll snap your neck.”

The sheriff froze in place, clearly taking it all very seriously. Claire didn’t really blame him. She remembered her first encounter with vampires, her first realization that the world wasn’t the neatly ordered place she’d always been told it was. It could really mess up your head.

In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure hers had ever recovered, come to think of it.

She was just starting to relax when Morley reached out and grabbed her and Eve by the arms. When Shane yelled a protest, Morley squeezed, and Claire felt agony shoot in a white bolt up her arm. Yeah, that was almost broken.

“Don’t cause a fuss, boy, or I’ll be forced to shatter bones,” Morley said. “The girls come with us. If you want to run, you may. I won’t stop you.”

Like Shane would. Or even could, being Shane. He fixed Morley with a bleak, grim stare and said, “You take them, I’m coming, too.”

“How gentlemanly of you,” Morley said, smiling. “I believe I already told you how I feel about gentlemen. But suit yourself.”

He hustled Claire and Eve out into the open room that was the police bullpen. Desks had been shoved around, papers littered the floor, and Deputy Tom was lying half hidden behind one of the chairs. Claire was glad she couldn’t really see him. She hoped he was just... knocked out.

Somehow, though, she really didn’t think so.

Shane followed behind Morley. Patience walked next to him, but she didn’t try to touch him—which was probably smart, given the fiery look in Shane’s eyes. His muscles were tight, his hands bunched into fists, and the only thing holding him back from punching Morley was the certain knowledge that it would be Claire and Eve who’d get hurt.

Morley shoved open the glass outer door with a booted foot, and glanced up at the blazing sun. “Quickly, if you please,” he said, and dragged Eve and Claire across the open ground at a stumbling run to an idling bus.

It was an old passenger bus, with darkened windows, and the next thing she knew, Claire was being shoved up the steep, narrow steps ahead of Morley, with Eve being dragged along behind him. It was dark inside, with only a few overhead reading lights on to show her the interior. There were worn, fraying velvet seats, and in almost every one sat a vampire, at least in the front two-thirds of the bus.

In the back were mostly humans—tied up, gagged, and looking desperate. There were no Morganville residents, at least that Claire could spot offhand, but she saw two immediately familiar faces—Orange Cap and Angry Guy, from the diner, who’d trashed Eve’s car. The sheriff had said they’d disappeared; she’d assumed they were dead, like their friend who’d been left with his pickup truck.

Morley had grabbed them. Claire thought that the other one, the one who’d died, had been more of an accident than deliberate murder, although maybe he’d done something to make Morley angry, too. There was no way to tell, really.

The two bullies weren’t looking quite so in control now. Their eyes were wide, their noses were running, and they kept wrestling against the ties that held them in place.

“Friends of yours?” Morley asked, seeing her expression. “I’ll see if I can seat you in the same section. Aisle or window?” He shoved Eve into a seat next to a window, across from Orange Cap, and then slung Claire into the empty chair beside her, on the aisle. Then he turned to Shane.

Shane sat down silently in the chair in front of Claire. Patience, watching this, bit her lip and shook her head, but when Morley snapped the orders, she broke out some plastic cable ties and fastened Claire and Eve to the seats, then turned to Shane.

“I’m sorry for this,” she said softly. “You should have gone. Gotten help. I would have made sure no harm came to them.”

“I don’t trust their lives to anybody but me,” he said. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Patience said with a sigh. “But Morley will require you to provide blood. He’s promised not to drain any of our captives, but I’m sure you understand his temper. Resistance would not be wise.”

Shane shuddered and looked away. He didn’t like giving blood, even at the Bloodmobile or the blood bank, and that was a lot more removed from having a vampire taking it, no matter whether they used medical equipment or went the old-fashioned way. Claire wasn’t too cool with it herself, and she knew Eve well enough to know she’d fight it, hard.