But she knew she wasn’t wrong about this. She loved Shane, loved him with so much certainty it was like sunrise, but she also knew that he had to see her differently – and she needed to see herself differently, if they were going to last. When he’d met her she’d been helpless, defenceless, and now she needed to prove she was not just his equal, but his independent equal.
Whether he – or she – liked it or not.
Over at the car, Michael had gotten out of the driver’s side and was leaning against the fender; he seemed content to wait, but he was also eyeing the horizon, where the sun was rising fast. In minutes, he’d be bathed in light, and at his very young vampire age, that was not good.
Claire put her hand on Shane’s cheek, a silent promise, and then dashed over to Michael to throw her arms around him. In the thin dawn light, he looked human again – skin tinted pink, eyes the endless clear blue of a summer sky. He kissed her cheek and hugged her with careful strength. ‘You didn’t really think we’d let you get away with no goodbyes, did you?’
‘No,’ she said.
He kissed her forehead, very gently. ‘Come back safe, and come back soon,’ he whispered to her. ‘We love you.’
‘Love you too, Michael,’ she said, and stepped back. ‘You’d better get inside.’
He nodded and retreated to the car’s blacked-out back bench seats – vampire tinting was way better than anything on human cars, and it would keep him safe from the fierce Texas day – and then it was Eve’s turn.
Michael’s wife hadn’t taken time to get properly dressed; she looked exactly as if she’d bounced out of bed in her cartoon bat pyjama bottoms and tank top, with her dyed-black hair in a messy scraped-together knot at the back of her head. She still had sleep wrinkles on her cheek, and without her Goth make-up, she looked ridiculously young. She was also wearing vampire bunny slippers. Myrnin had given them each a pair for Christmas, since they’d all found his so hilarious, and as Eve marched toward Claire, the rabbit slippers’ mouths flapped up and down, their red tongues flashing and plush teeth biting the ground.
Not outdoor wear, but Eve clearly didn’t give a crap.
‘Hey,’ she said, stopping a couple of feet away and crossing her arms. ‘So. There’s this, then.’
‘Yeah,’ Claire said. ‘I just – I couldn’t—’
‘Couldn’t woman up and say goodbye? Jesus, Claire Bear, you didn’t even leave a note! How could you do that?’
There was no defence to that. It was true. She’d figured that the goodnights they’d said were also goodbyes, but now … now she knew that they weren’t. Shane’s twisted anguish had told her that, and so did Eve’s tears, shining unshed in her eyes.
Claire moved forward, and Eve uncrossed her arms just in time to receive the embrace. ‘Idiot,’ Eve said. ‘Dork. Loser. So, you’re just going to run off in the dark and … and leave us … and …’ She was crying now, and Claire felt the hot tears on her shoulder soaking through her sweater. ‘And we might never see you again, and I love you, Claire, you’re like my little sister, and—’
‘I’m coming back,’ Claire said. She hung on fiercely, while Eve bawled and let it all out. ‘I swear, I’m coming back. You can’t get rid of me like that.’
‘I don’t want to get rid of you!’ Eve’s balled-up fists hit her back, but softly, lacking any force. ‘God!’
There was only one thing to do, and that was let her cry it out, and Claire did, fighting back a rising tide of tears herself. This was why she’d tried to sneak away … not because she didn’t love all of them, but because the goodbyes were so, so painful.
Her parents’ minivan rolled up to the sign, pulled to the shoulder, and Claire heard the engine shut off. She patted Eve’s back a few more times until her best friend gave a shuddering nod and stepped away.
‘Hello, pumpkin,’ Claire’s father said, and smiled at her from the driver’s side window. He looked tired, she thought, and it shocked her how much more grey there was in his hair. He didn’t look well, though her mother had assured her he was doing much better. ‘Ready to go?’
‘Almost,’ she said. ‘Couple of minutes?’
‘Take your time.’ He looked as if he understood, but it was definitely the Dad Look that he levelled at Shane – the disapproving, not-good-enough up and down assessment.
Shane didn’t notice, and even if he had, he probably wouldn’t have much cared at the moment. He closed the distance between them as Claire came back, and although he didn’t put his arms around her, the feeling of an embrace settled around her.
Safe. Safe, with him.
‘I don’t like this,’ he said. ‘I don’t like knowing you can’t forgive me, Claire. Please, I said I was sorry, what do you want me to do? Beg? I will. I’ll get on my knees right here if you want, in front of your dad—’
‘No!’ she blurted. ‘No, it’s – I’m not angry, really, I’m not. But I need this. I need it. I don’t ask for anything for myself, but this is mine, Shane. It won’t be for long, but it gives us time to – to see if we’re really strong apart, like we are together.’
She also needed him to understand that he’d screwed up, and she couldn’t be one of those doormat girls … ready to forgive him when he did unforgivable things. He hadn’t trusted her word. He’d believed – despite what he knew about her – that she’d been sneaking around behind his back, with Michael, which, well, never.
And so she couldn’t fall for the fast, easy apology. Not even here, on his knees, in front of her father, which was about as extreme as it could get.
Tears clogged her throat again, and when she saw he was serious about it, she reached out and grabbed his hands. Big hands, scarred over the knuckles from fights; gentle hands, too, when it counted. Hands she loved, especially when, like now, they rose up and touched her burning cheeks, cradled them in coolness. His thumbs traced her cheekbones softly, and he bent closer to whisper, ‘I am so sorry, Claire. Please. Please don’t go away.’
‘I—’ She closed her eyes because she felt dizzy, pulled by the force of his wanting, and even a deep breath didn’t set that right. ‘Shane, I have to go. I have to. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you, or that I won’t come back.’ She opened her eyes and met his fierce, desperate gaze. ‘I said I’d marry you someday. I still mean it, if you mean it.’
That woke an equally fierce grin. ‘Oh, I mean it. I’d do it tomorrow if—’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘But I can’t. Not yet.’
He let go of her, but he didn’t step back; he took her hands and raised them to his lips to kiss them, one at a time. She shivered at the heat of his lips, and the longing on his face that he didn’t give a voice.
‘If you need me …’ he said, and then stopped himself with a bitter little smile. ‘But you probably won’t.’
She silently held up her cell phone. ‘Speed dial.’
‘Call me today,’ he said. ‘Call me every day.’
‘I will,’ she promised. ‘Shane—’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘Look, I hate goodbyes, too. But sometimes, we need them just to survive.’
He meant that, and it left her wordless and stunned, and all she could think to do was kiss him one more time, gently. It was a promise, and she meant it with everything in her heart and soul.
And then she walked over to where her suitcases lay, and helped her dad load them into the back of the minivan. Shane moved to help but she discouraged that with a shake of her head; she needed to do this herself. She was afraid she’d break down and run back home to Morganville, to the house they all shared, if she didn’t go now, on her own.