probably going to set you up again,ââ Eve said, and scooped more spaghetti into her bowl. ââLike she did at the frat dance. Hey, sheâs throwing a party this Friday, did you hear? Superexclusive, flying in out of towners and everything. I guess itâs her birthday, or Daddy-gave-me-money day, or whatever. We should crash.ââ
ââI like the sound of that,ââ Shane said. ââCrashing Monicaâs party.ââ He glanced at Michael, then quickly away. ââWhat about you? That break some kind of vampire rules of conduct or something?ââ
ââBlow me, Shane.ââ
ââBoys,ââ Eve said primly. ââLanguage. Minor at the table.ââ
ââWell,ââ Shane said, ââI wasnât actually planning to do it.ââ
Claire rolled her eyes. ââNot like itâs the first time Iâve heard it. Or said it.ââ
ââYou shouldnât say it,ââ Michael said, all seriousness. ââNo, I mean it. Girls should say âeat me,â not âblow me.â Wouldnât recommend âbite me,â though. Not around here.ââ
Eve choked on her spaghetti. Shane pounded her on the back, but he was laughing, too, and so was Michael, and Claire glared at them for a little bit before giving in and admitting it was funny, after all.
Everything was all right.
ââSo. Friday night?ââ Eve asked, wiping her eyes and gasping through her giggles. ââPar-tay? Because I could so use a good blowout.ââ
ââIâm in,ââ Michael said, and took a manful bite of spaghetti. Claire wondered if it burned him. ââI think if Iâm with you, thereâs no way she can keep us out. Vampire VIP status. Might as well be good for something.ââ
Shane looked at him, and for a second there was that warmth that Claire missed so much, but then it was gone again, and the wall was back firmly in place between the two of them.
ââMust be nice,ââ he said. ââWe should all go, if itâs going to ruin Monicaâs night.ââ
They finished the rest of the meal in uncomfortable silence. Claire realized that she kept thinking about that red velvet box sitting upstairs in her room, and struggled not to look guilty. Probably didnât succeed. She caught Michael watching her with a strange intensity; whether he was picking up on her discomfort or still wondering about why she didnât jump at the chance to go to Monicaâs party.
She ate too fast, cleaned her dishes, and dashed upstairs with a mumbled excuse about homework. Well, it wasnât as though they werenât used to her studying. It was Shaneâs turn for dishes, so that would keep him busy for a while. . . .
The box was right where sheâd left it, sitting on the dresser. She grabbed it, put her back against the wall, and slid down to a cross-legged sitting position as she weighed the box in her hand.
ââYouâre wondering whether or not to wear it,ââ Amelie said, and Claire yelped in surprise. The elegant older vampire, completely at her ease, was seated in the antique old velvet chair in the corner, her hands folded primly in her lap. She looked like a painting, not a person; there was something about herânow more than everâthat seemed antique and cold as marble.
Claire scrambled to her feet, feeling stupid about it, but you just didnât sit like that in Amelieâs presence. Amelie acknowledged the courtesy with a graceful nod, but didnât otherwise move.
ââI apologize for surprising you, Claire, but I needed to speak with you alone,ââ she said.
ââHow can you get in here? I mean, this is our house; arenât vampires . . . ?ââ
ââPrevented from entry? Not into another
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