constant on-demand validation.
Monica blew in the front door of the shop in a dress that was too short for her, but showed off her long tanned legs; the swirl of wind almost made it illegal. She shoved her expensive sunglasses up on top of her glossy black hair and scanned the room. The sneer that twisted her full lips was probably mostly reflex.
After putting in her coffee order, Monica slipped into a chair across from Claire. “Well?” she said, and dropped her tiny purse on the table. “Like I said, this had better be good.”
When Oliver brought over Monica’s coffee, Claire said, “Would you mind staying for a minute?”
“What?”
“As a moderator.” Oliver was a broker of deals in Morganville. Common Grounds was a key place where humans and vampires could meet, mingle in safety, and reach all kinds of agreements that Oliver would witness and enforce.
Pretty rarely between humans, though.
Oliver shrugged and sat down between the two girls. “All right. Make it quick.”
Monica already looked thunderously angry, so Claire spoke first. “Monica made a deal with me for test answers. I want you to witness me handing them over.”
Oliver’s eyebrows twitched up, and the look on his face was bitterly amused. “You’re asking me to witness a schoolyard transaction for cheating. How ... quaint.”
Claire didn’t wait. She pushed over a thumb drive toward Monica. “There’s an electronic file on there,” she said. “It’s password protected. If you can figure out the password, you can have the answers.”
Monica’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“You said I had to give them to you. I did. That’s what I wanted Oliver to see. Now you have them, so we’re done. No comebacks. Right?”
“You put them under a password?”
“One you can guess,” Claire said. “If you did the homework. Or can read fast.”
“You little bitch.” Monica’s hand flashed out—not for the thumb drive, but for Claire’s arm. She crushed it to the table, her nails digging in deep enough to draw blood. “I told you, I’ll fry your ass.”
“With you, I know that’s not an empty threat,” Claire said. “Alyssa Collins is proof of that.”
Monica went very still, and something flickered across her eyes—shock? Maybe even regret and guilt. “I’m not taking this thing. You give me the answers without the password.”
Oliver cleared his throat. “Did you specify how she had to give you the answers?”
“No,” Claire said. “She just said I had to. I did. Hey, this is the nicest way I could have done it. I could have given it to her in Latin or something.”
“Let go of her,” Oliver said mildly. When Monica didn’t, his tone turned icy. “Let. Go.”
She pulled her hand back and folded her arms over her chest, glaring at Claire, her jaw set hard. “This isn’t over.”
“It is,” Oliver said. “Not her fault you made a poor definition of what it was you wanted from her. She satisfied all requirements. She’s even given you a reasonable chance of discovering the password. Take it and walk away, Monica.”
“This isn’t over,” Monica repeated, ignoring him. When she reached for the thumb drive, Oliver’s pale, strong hand slapped down over it, and over her fingers, holding her in place. Monica yelped. It must have hurt.
“Look at me,” he said. Monica blinked and focused on his face, and Claire saw her pupils widen. Her lips parted a little. “Monica Morrell, you are my responsibility. You owe me respect, and you owe me obedience. And you will leave Claire Danvers alone. If you have cause to attack her, you will tell me first. I will decide whether or not you can take action. And you do not have my permission. Not for this.” He let go. Monica yanked her hand back and cradled it against her chest. “Now, take your business and your coffee elsewhere. Both of you.”
Monica reached out and snatched up the small memory stick. As she did, Claire said, “The thumb drive cost me
Monica blew in the front door of the shop in a dress that was too short for her, but showed off her long tanned legs; the swirl of wind almost made it illegal. She shoved her expensive sunglasses up on top of her glossy black hair and scanned the room. The sneer that twisted her full lips was probably mostly reflex.
After putting in her coffee order, Monica slipped into a chair across from Claire. “Well?” she said, and dropped her tiny purse on the table. “Like I said, this had better be good.”
When Oliver brought over Monica’s coffee, Claire said, “Would you mind staying for a minute?”
“What?”
“As a moderator.” Oliver was a broker of deals in Morganville. Common Grounds was a key place where humans and vampires could meet, mingle in safety, and reach all kinds of agreements that Oliver would witness and enforce.
Pretty rarely between humans, though.
Oliver shrugged and sat down between the two girls. “All right. Make it quick.”
Monica already looked thunderously angry, so Claire spoke first. “Monica made a deal with me for test answers. I want you to witness me handing them over.”
Oliver’s eyebrows twitched up, and the look on his face was bitterly amused. “You’re asking me to witness a schoolyard transaction for cheating. How ... quaint.”
Claire didn’t wait. She pushed over a thumb drive toward Monica. “There’s an electronic file on there,” she said. “It’s password protected. If you can figure out the password, you can have the answers.”
Monica’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“You said I had to give them to you. I did. That’s what I wanted Oliver to see. Now you have them, so we’re done. No comebacks. Right?”
“You put them under a password?”
“One you can guess,” Claire said. “If you did the homework. Or can read fast.”
“You little bitch.” Monica’s hand flashed out—not for the thumb drive, but for Claire’s arm. She crushed it to the table, her nails digging in deep enough to draw blood. “I told you, I’ll fry your ass.”
“With you, I know that’s not an empty threat,” Claire said. “Alyssa Collins is proof of that.”
Monica went very still, and something flickered across her eyes—shock? Maybe even regret and guilt. “I’m not taking this thing. You give me the answers without the password.”
Oliver cleared his throat. “Did you specify how she had to give you the answers?”
“No,” Claire said. “She just said I had to. I did. Hey, this is the nicest way I could have done it. I could have given it to her in Latin or something.”
“Let go of her,” Oliver said mildly. When Monica didn’t, his tone turned icy. “Let. Go.”
She pulled her hand back and folded her arms over her chest, glaring at Claire, her jaw set hard. “This isn’t over.”
“It is,” Oliver said. “Not her fault you made a poor definition of what it was you wanted from her. She satisfied all requirements. She’s even given you a reasonable chance of discovering the password. Take it and walk away, Monica.”
“This isn’t over,” Monica repeated, ignoring him. When she reached for the thumb drive, Oliver’s pale, strong hand slapped down over it, and over her fingers, holding her in place. Monica yelped. It must have hurt.
“Look at me,” he said. Monica blinked and focused on his face, and Claire saw her pupils widen. Her lips parted a little. “Monica Morrell, you are my responsibility. You owe me respect, and you owe me obedience. And you will leave Claire Danvers alone. If you have cause to attack her, you will tell me first. I will decide whether or not you can take action. And you do not have my permission. Not for this.” He let go. Monica yanked her hand back and cradled it against her chest. “Now, take your business and your coffee elsewhere. Both of you.”
Monica reached out and snatched up the small memory stick. As she did, Claire said, “The thumb drive cost me
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