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Claire dove forward, vampire fast, and came at Eve with fangs first. Myrnin shifted, putting himself in front of Eve, to protect her, or possibly to keep her all for himself, it was a little unclear. His fangs dropped down, and he crouched, growling. But he needn't have bothered.
Shane was there.
Claire knew he was there from the creek of floor boards and the whisper of cloth on skin and the pounding his of blood, but Eve had been closer, and Claire could already smell the fear pounding in her veins. The little movements she made screamed at Claire that this was prey, helpless and weak and already held by another hunter. Claire wanted her. Wanted her more than she'd ever wanted to breathe.
But then Shane's arm snaked around her throat and pulled back sharply, and Claire's advance slowed, stopped, and strained against Shane's hold. But Claire was new and weak, and Shane had far too much experience wrestling vampires for it to be fair.
Claire could hear Shane whispering things in her ears, soothing sounds meant to calm her, but the words had no meaning. They were just sounds, she had no more understanding of them than an animal would have. And she was hungry.
Taking him by surprise, she suddenly threw all her weight back and pushed off with her legs, throwing them both to the floor. Shane hit first, but he kept his hold. Claire began to struggle, but his legs came around her waist and she was trapped, and still she thrashed, trying to get her mouth around to his salty skin, to get her first taste of the ambrosia that flooded his body.
Her hands came up and began to claw at his arm, trying to pull it away from her throat so she could do something, anything, because now it wasn't just hunger clawing it's way out of her stomach, it began to burn. Shane tightened his hold and his other arm came around and trapped her clawing hands against her chest.
She arched her back as a wordless shriek burst out of her. She was aware of muted voices in the background, and footsteps headed to the kitchen, but this was unimportant. The only thing that was real to her was the blood trickling out between her fingers as she dug her nails into Shane's arm. It was so close. And she was so hungry.
Two hands suddenly clapped on the side of her face and she froze as Myrnin pinned her with his eyes.
"Be still." He whispered. "Be still."
And she was.
"Eve." He called. "Wheres that blood?"
Claire shuddered, but remained still in Shane's tense hold. He hadn't relaxed.
"Cumming!" Eve's clunky boots stomped down the hall. Claire distinctly herd the slosh of liquid in plastic. Blood. Claire thought. Michele's blood packs. Still, she froze, pinned, by Myrnin's pooling brown eyes, so pretty, faintly glowing red. Like chocolate and blood. She thought. Chocolate and blood. So sweet. His fingers were just the right temperature on her face, not flushed and hot and alluring like Shane's body, pressed against her skin.
Eve walked in carrying four blood packs, and Myrnin turned away, breaking the spell. Claire shuddered, closed her eyes, and folded into Shane's arms. She sucked in a breath, even though she didn't need one. She didn't cry. She couldn't cry. The tears wouldn't come. She didn't know vampires couldn't cry. She didn't want to know.
"I'm sorry, Shane." She gasped. "So sorry."
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