Creep. Eeeeee. Eve swallowed and looked at Michael. This time, she hoped what she was sending was Let’s just get out of here now. Monica was getting a bounty for lining up her classmates for the needle. That was really all they needed to know, because as social ammunition went, it would fire pretty well.
But Michael wasn’t done. She was starting to recognize that look in his eyes, and it worried her. “What kind of research are you talking about? What are you trying to do, breed a better class of cow? Or are we just not as tasty anymore?”
The vampire exchanged a lightning-fast look with his colleague, and Eve felt the mood change. Michael had said something that made them worried.
“Perhaps you should come with us for better answers,” the friendlier vamp said, although he was far from friendly now. “Please. Sit down. We’re finished here, anyway.”
The female vamp moved to the front of the vehicle and got in the driver’s seat. Eve bolted for the exit, but of course the other vamp was there ahead of her, a blur in her vision for an instant and then, bam, right in the way. She skidded to a halt, bracing herself on the padded donation chairs on either side, and stared at him as he slowly smiled. No fangs, which was nice, but it still gave her a solid chill.
“Get out of the way,” Michael said, coming up behind her. She moved, but he wasn’t talking to her. “Let us out. Now.”
“Sorry,” the vamp said. “Can’t do that. You have a few too many questions to—”
The door behind him suddenly opened, and the vamp almost toppled backward, which would have been funny as hell, but he caught himself and whirled around to face the newcomer—a man dressed in a smothering trench coat, hat, gloves, and sunglasses.
“Sorry,” said Michael’s grandfather, Sam Glass, in the mildest possible tone. “Am I interrupting something? I came to get my grandson.”
Sam Glass was a vampire—a young one, hence all the layers. Without them, he was eerily like Michael in a lot of ways—curling hair that he wore a little shaggy and long, a strong and gorgeous face, the same ocean blue eyes. His hair was more red than blond, and he looked physically to be maybe late twenties . . . but damn, if it wasn’t clear they were related. Brothers, maybe.
But Sam Glass had died long ago, and it was all a weirdly complicated family situation at Glass Christmas dinners.
Sam was the youngest vamp of Morganville by a long stretch, but rumors were he was also a favorite of Amelie’s, and nobody messed with what the Founder liked without risking a painful lesson.
So the Asian guy in charge of the Bloodmobile faked a smile, bowed slightly, and moved out of the way. His eyes tracked Sam as he entered and gestured to Michael. “Come on, kid,” Sam said. “Time to go.”
“Not without Eve,” Michael said. “Sam, I can’t leave her.”
Eve couldn’t read Sam’s expression, and his eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses, so she just didn’t know what he was thinking about that. She hoped she didn’t look as terrified as she felt, because if Sam decided Eve didn’t much matter, well . . . she expected this to be her last ride before a well-padded coffin.
“Sure,” Sam said. “You were coming to dinner tonight, weren’t you, Eve? I’ll give you a ride home so you can get ready.”
“Thanks, sir,” she whispered. Her mouth was very dry, and her hands were shaking.
Michael put his arm around her and guided her to the exit. Sam gave her a hand down the stairs, and the warm leather of his gloves felt almost like human skin. That gave her another instinctual shiver. She decided she liked the heat of Michael’s touch much better.
Sam folded up the stairs to the Bloodmobile’s door and shut it, and they all watched as it glided away, sleek as a barracuda. Then Michael’s grandfather hustled them into the shade, stripped off his hat and glasses, and said, “Are you both insane, or just stupid? Why would you go in there if you didn’t have to?”
“Good question,” Eve said, and laughed. It was hysterical laughter, and she clapped her hands over her mouth to try to shut it off. The giggles kept escaping, and she had to blink hard to keep tears from leaking, too. “Seemed like a good idea at the time . . . ?”
“We wanted to know why Monica was strong-arming our classmates for blood donations,” Michael said. “Do you know?” That was . . . blunt. Edging in on aggressive, Eve thought.
Sam gave his grandson a steady look, then changed the subject. “Leave the mayor’s daughter alone, Michael. She’s not worth your time. People like that self-destruct, or they change, but it’s up to her, not you.”
“She’s done a lot of damage,” Michael said. “What about what she did to Shane and his family?”
“I’m sorry about your friend, but he and his parents are gone now. They’re out of Morganville. Stop thinking about revenge and start thinking about your future, kids.”