Book: Dead Girls Dance Chapter two

Chapter twenty

Michael's Pov:

I woke up to find Eve gone from bed I had a guess she was downstairs with Claire and Carrie cooking I hope the food doesn't burn again that'll be a pain. I got changed and went downstairs to the kitchen to find… Eve had burned the food I was about to say something then Claire stepped in. "This food we prepared live again." Then suddenly there was a live pig and chicken in the kitchen and Carrie was laughing and Claire and Eve were trying to catch the running pig around the kitchen, Shane came in looking at me for some idea of what was happening I just shrugged my shoulder then looked at the girls again. Soon we were having breakfast like nothing happened. The food was great and so was the conversation, we talked about nothing really but still talked, when breakfast was over me and Shane made snacks for us all while Claire read the book. We made all kinds of food as we made the food Shane and I talked about the new gym and how it was going. "Yea it's great more money coming in for me and Claire but I'm worried it won't stay like that but who knows." Shane said sadly that was true his business could stop but he was the only gym now after what had happened when he had gone nutty but that was in the past. We went out of the kitchen and Claire was sitting on the floor by the coffee table she seemed ready but Carrie was missing.

"Claire where's Carrie?" I asked she pointed upstairs.

"She's talking to a friend who just moved in next door there talking about everything but you know what." She replied I understood but it was dangerous not to know but Claire was part of this town she was the second in command now after what happened with the draugs. I didn't like thinking about that but Claire always acted like she was just a normal teen but she was really a 650 year old who saved people a lot of the time. To anyone who didn't know about the vampires they didn't know about Claire or Cruz as she was known as.

Carrie soon came down with another girl she seemed sweet but that wasn't going to help her (image on profile). She went straight out the door and shut the door and Claire opened the book. "Chapter three… It was a long, long day. Claire eventually stretched out on one side of the bed, Eve on the other, each wrapped in her own separate cocoon of misery and heartache. They didn't talk much. There didn't seem to be a lot to talk about."

"Let me think Eve what could we of talked about?" Claire joked and Eve caught on.

"I don't know Claire maybe how good that day was or what we should wear the next time there was a party?" Again Eve joked but Claire started reading again.

"It was almost dark when the doorknob rattled, sending Claire into a heart-pounding terror seizure; she advanced slowly, and whispered, "Who is it?"

"It's the bogyman how'd you think it was?" Shane said sarcastically but I knew he really cared he had told them to never answer to anyone but him to protect them like I wanted.

"Shane."

She unlocked fast and opened up. Shane came in, head down, carrying a tray on which sat two bowls of chilli which made sense, because it was nearly the only thing Shane knew how to fix.

He set it down on the edge of the bed, next to Eve, who was sitting like an unstuffed rag doll, limp with grief and dejection.

Eat something, he said. Eve shook her head. Shane picked up a bowl and shoved it in her direction; she took it just to avoid wearing it, and glared at him."

"He wouldn't dare throw that over me not when he would want to get another shiner." That seemed to get a few stares from the rest of us but Carrie.

"Auntie Eve what you mean by that what happened to daddy?" Carrie asked she turned to look at Eve but Claire cut her off.

"Claire saw her expression change into something else. Blank at first, then horrified.

"It's nothing," Shane said as Claire came around to see. It wasn't… nothing. It was bruises, dark ones, spilling over his cheek and jaw. Shane avoided looking at her. "My fault."

"Jesus," Eve whispered. "Your dad"

"Daddy," was all Carrie said as she ran over to Shane and hugged her you could see the regret in Shane's eyes he was wishing that that would last forever I saw Claire looking at them and a tear went down her check but I didn't understand why.

"My fault," Shane snapped back, got up, and headed for the door. "Look, you don't understand. He's right, okay? I was wrong."

"No, I don't understand," Claire said, and grabbed his arm. He pulled free without any effort at all and kept walking. "Shane!"

Shane looked up at Claire and said "Sorry" she smiled and replied "its ok it wasn't your fault" he nodded his head and it seemed sad to me that Shane and Claire looked so sorry for each other.

"He paused in the doorway and looked back at her. He looked bruised, beaten, and sullen, but it was the desperation in his eyes that scared her. Shane was always strong, wasn't he? He had to be. She needed him to be.

"Dad's right," he said. "This town is sick, it's poisoned, and it's poisoning us, too. We can't let it beat us. We have to take them out."

"The vampires? Shane, that's stupid! You can't! You know what'll happen!" Eve said. She put the bowl of chilli back on the tray and got off the bed, looking tear streaked and forlorn but more like herself. "Your dads crazy. I'm sorry, but he is. And you can't let him drag you down with him. He's going to get you killed, and Claire and me, too. He already…" She caught her breath and gulped. "He already got Michael. We can't let him do this. Who knows how many people are going to get hurt?"

"Like Lyssa got hurt?" Shane asked. "Like my mom? They killed my mom, Eve! They were willing to burn us up in this house yesterday, don't forget, and that included Michael."

"But…"

"This town is bad," Shane said, and looked at Claire, almost pleading. "You understand, right? You understand that there's a whole world out there, a whole world that isn't like this?"

"Yes," she said faintly. "I understand that. But"

"Were doing this. And then were getting out of this place."

"With your father?" Eve managed to put a whole dictionary of contempt into that. "I don't think so. I look good in black, but not so great in black and blue."

Shane flinched. "I didn't say look, just the three of us. We get out of town while my dad and the others"

"We run?" Eve shook her head. "Brilliant. And when the vamps have a big party and roast your dad and his buddies, what then? Because they're definitely going to come looking for us. Nobody escapes who had any part in killing a vampire, you know that. Unless you really believe that your dad and his idiot muscle are going to be able to take down hundreds of vamps, all their human allies, the cops, and, for all I know, the U. S. Marines."

"Eat your damn chilli," Shane said.

"Not without something to drink. I know your chilli."

"I think all of us know Shane's chill." Eve stated and we all laughed including Shane and Carrie looked up at Shane with a strange look in her eyes must have been pride?

"Fine! I'll get you Cokes!" He slammed the door behind him. "Lock it!"

Claire did. This time, Shane didn't linger in the hall; she heard the hard thump of his boots as he went downstairs.

"Did you have to do that?" she asked Eve. She leaned against the door and folded her arms.

"Do what, exactly?"

"He's confused. He lost Michael, his dads got him"

"Say it, Claire: his dads got him brainwashed. Worse. I think his dads beaten the fight out of him. He's certainly beaten the brains out of him."

"Hey so what I was trying to protect you the best way I could, I still couldn't that guy got into your room because I was careless." Shane said, I knew what he was talking about because I had stopped it before any harm came to the girls. But I saw in his eyes that he wished he could have stopped it because if I was too late or really dead then something would have happened. I knew that.

"Eve wiped at her face impatiently; there were more tears streaming down her cheeks, but it was more like water escaping under pressure than real sobs. His dad wasn't always like this. He used to be well, not nice, because he was kind of a drunk, but better. Way better than this. After Lyssa he just went crazy. I didn't know about Shane's mom. I thought she just, you know killed herself. Shane never really said.

Claire hadn't heard any footsteps on the stairs, but she heard and felt a soft knock through the door, and then a rattle of the doorknob. She unlocked and swung it open, holding out her hands for the Cokes she expected Shane to thrust at her and there was a grinning, smelly mountain of a man in the doorway. The one who stabbed Michael.

Claire let go of the door and stumbled back, thinking only an instant later, stupid that was stupid you should have slammed it but it was too late; he was already inside, closing the door behind him.

And locking it."

That was not good I knew that and I thought to myself how me and Shane had done in the girls we loved but when I looked at Carrie she seemed to struggle with what she was hearing and Shane wasn't looking at anyone he was feeling guilty.

"She looked in terror at Eve. Eve lunged forward, grabbed Claire, and hustled her around to the far side of the bed and stepped in front of her. Claire looked frantically around for a weapon. Anything. She picked up a heavy-looking skull, but it was plastic, light and utterly useless.

Eve yanked a field hockey stick from under her bed.

"Let's do this nice," the man said. "That little stick isn't going to do you any good, and it's only going to piss me off." His lips widened in a grin, revealing big, square, yellow teeth. Or get me all excited.

Claire felt sick and faint. This wasn't like Shane coming into her room the other night, not at all. This was the flip side of men, and although she heard about it you couldn't grow up without that she'd never really seen it. Some jerks, sure, but there was something horrible about this guy. Something that looked at her and Eve like pieces of meat he was about to devour.

"You're not touching us", Eve said, and raised her voice. "Shane! Shane, get your ass up here now!"

There was a touch of panic in her voice, although she was putting on a good front. Her hands were shaking where they gripped the hockey stick.

The man glided around the end of the bed, prowling like a cat. Six feet tall, at least, and as broad as two of Eve, maybe bigger. His bare arms were ripped with muscle. His blue eyes looked shallow and hungry.

Claire heard the thump of footsteps outside, and then a bang as Shane fetched up against the locked door. He rattled the knob and pounded hard. "Eve! Eve, open up!"

"She's busy!" The biker yelled, and laughed. "Oh yeah, going to be real busy."

"No!" Shane screamed it, and the door shook with the strength of the blows he put into it. "Stay away from them!"

Eve backed Claire up, all the way to the window. She took a swipe at the biker, who just stepped back out of range, still laughing.

"Get your dad!" she yelled at Shane. "Make him do something!"

"I'm not leaving you!"

"Do it, Shane, now!"

Footsteps pounded down the hall. Claire swallowed, feeling suddenly even more alone and vulnerable. "Do you think his dad will come?" She whispered. Eve didn't answer.

"I swear to God, you come near us and like this?" The biker sidestepped a slash from the hockey stick, grabbed it on the way, and yanked it out of Eve's hands.

He tossed it over his shoulder to land on the floor with a clatter. This near enough? "Whatcha gonna do, doll girl? Cry all over me?"

Claire hid her eyes as the biker reached out for Eve with one tattooed hand.

No, Eve said breathlessly. I'm going to let my boyfriend beat the crap out of you.

There was a dull thud of wood meeting flesh, and a howl. Then another, harder thud and a crash as a body hit the floor.

The biker was down. Claire stared at him in disbelief, then looked past him, to the figure standing there with the field hockey stick in both hands.

Michael Glass.

Back from the dead, again, a gorgeous blond avenging angel, breathing hard. Flushed with anger, blue eyes flashing. He glanced at the two girls, making sure they were okay, and then put the blade of the hockey stick on the biker's throat. The bikers eyes fluttered and tried to open, but didn't make it. He relaxed into unconsciousness.

Eve flew toward Michael, leaped over the biker's body, and fastened herself around Michael like she was trying to be sure he was all there. He must have been; he winced from the force of the impact, then kissed her on the top of her head without looking away from the man lying limp at their feet.

"Eve," he said, and then glanced at her and gentled his tone. "Eve, honey, go open the door."

She nodded, stepped away, and followed instructions. Michael handed her the hockey stick, grabbed the biker by the shoulders, and towed him quickly out into the hallway. He closed the door again, locked it, and said, "Right, here the story Eve, you knocked him out with the hockey stick and"

He didn't finish, because Eve grabbed him and pushed him back against the door, wrapping herself around him like a Goth-girl coat. She was crying again, but silently; Claire could see her shoulders shaking. Michael sighed, put his arms around her, and bent his blond head to rest against her dark one.

"It's okay," he murmured. "You're okay, Eve. Were all okay."

"You were dead!" she wailed, muffled by the fact that her face was still pressed against his chest. "Damn you, Michael, you were dead, I saw them kill you, and they"

"Yeah, it wasn't too pleasant." Something passed fast and hot across Michaels eyes, the reflection of a horror that Claire thought he didn't want to remember or share. "But I'm not a vampire, and they can't kill me like a vampire. Not while the house owns my soul. They can do pretty much anything to my body, but it just gets fixed."

The prospects of that made Claire sick, like standing on the edge of a huge and unexpected drop. She stared at Michael, wide-eyed, and saw he understood the same things she did: that if Shanes father and his merry band of thugs found out, they might decide to test that out. Just for fun.

"That's why I'm not here," Michael said. "You can't tell them. Or Shane."

"Not tell Shane?" Eve pulled back. "Why not?"

"I've been watching," he said. "Listening. I can do that when I'm, you know"

"A ghost?" Claire supplied.

"Exactly." I saw Michael didn't go on, but Claire thought she knew what had been about to say.

"You saw Shane's dad hit him," she said. "Right?"

"I don't want to make him keep secrets from his dad. Not now."

Footsteps pounding up the stairs, then slowing when they hit the hallway. Michael touched his finger to his lips and eased out from Eve's frantic grip. He pressed his lips silently to hers.

"Hide!" Claire whispered. He nodded and opened the closet, rolled his eyes at the mess inside, and forced his way in. Burying himself in piles of clothes, Claire hoped. Miranda had been trapped in that closet after trying to knife Eve, before the house had caught fire; she'd really done a job of messing things up. Eve was going to be furious."

We finished this part of the chapter and all the food so Claire and Eve got back up and started making Dinner and Carrie was asking Shane questions and Shane just got up from his seat and up the stairs, Carrie got up and went after him and Claire stopped her. "Don't worry baby I'll talk to daddy." She said and went up the stairs and I heard her knocking on a door. It opened and I heard them talking and the words "It's not your fault". They came back down Shane seemed out of it so Claire got the book as Eve came in with the food and Claire started reading again.

"Both girls jumped at a hard blow on the door. Eve hastily unlocked the door and stepped back as it flew open, and Shane charged through.

"How?" He was breathing hard, and he had a crowbar in his hand. He'd have broken through the locks, Claire realized, if he'd had to. She came toward him slowly, trying to figure out what he was feeling, and he dropped the crowbar and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up off the ground. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, and the warm, fast pump of his breath on her skin made her shiver in raw delight. "Oh Christ, Claire. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," Eve said. She held out the field hockey stick. "Look! I hit him. Um, twice.

Good." Shane kissed Claire's cheek and let her slide back down to the floor, but he kept hold of her arms. His eyes, bright under the bruises and swelling, surveyed her carefully. "He didn't hurt you? Either of you?"

"I hit him!" Eve repeated brightly, and brandished the stick again for emphasis. "So, no, he didn't hurt us. We hurt him. You know, all alone. Without any help. Um, so where's your dad? He charges to the rescue pretty slow."

Shane closed the door and locked it again as the biker in the hall groaned and rolled over on his side. He didn't answer, which was answer enough. Shane's dad needed his bikers more than he needed Eve or Claire. They were expendable. Worse, they'd probably just become rewards.

"We can't stay here," Eve said. "It isn't safe. You know that."

The end