Bite clube by non (books not by me ) (simple e reader txt) π
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"Shane!" Her voice echoed back wildly from metal and concrete, and she could hear the grief and fear in it. "Shane, please answer me!"
No sound at all, except for the continued crashes and groans of the wreckage overhead. She edged back into the sunlight.
There was blood on her hands, bright and red. And on her pants where she'd fallen on her knees.
Fresh blood.
Claire screamed.
chapter 13
It was likeCSI: Vampire , only without sunglasses.
The vampires brought lights, although they probably could have gotten along without them. It didn't take long for them to clear the potentially dangerous wreckage from overhead and get down into the basement, where Claire sat huddled at the foot of the steps. She was still staring at the drying blood on her hands when Oliver stepped down carefully, watching her as he did so.
"It's blood," she said, feeling tired and oddly calm now. "Is it going to make you go all crazy and bite me?"
"Do you go insane with hunger when you see an old, decaying hamburger on the ground next to a trash can?" he asked.
"No," she said. Then, belatedly, "That's disgusting."
"Then let me assure you, the idea of ingesting that filthy, contaminated blood has no appeal to me whatsoever." His voice was oddly quiet, and he looked from her to the pool of blood near the cage. "You're afraid it's Shane's."
She swallowed and managed to whisper, "Is it?"
"No," Oliver said. He crouched down and touched the blood, rubbed it between his fingers, and cautiously sniffed it. "Doesn't smell like his. It's human, but not of the Collins bloodline." He lifted his head again and surveyed the room. More of his people came down the steps, bringing portable lights with them that they set up and turned on, bathing the room in merciless white light. The blood looked almost insanely red, drying to brown patches at the edges. Oliver stood up and stalked over to another spot, then another. "It's also not alone. There are many bloodstains here. Some older; some only a few days old." He walked to the cage and swung open the unlocked door, which creaked like a haunted house. Claire shivered. It felt like that high-pitched squeal had gone straight through her head.
It isn't Shane's blood.She felt an immense, late-breaking wave of relief, and her hands, the hands she'd been holding so rigidly out from her, fell back to her sides. She wanted to cry, but she wasn't sure she had it in her.
"More in here," Oliver said. "A lot more. Many different donors, and vampire blood, as well, as you'd expect from the fight recordings we saw."
"It's barbaric," Amelie said. Claire hadn't heard her arrive, but suddenly she was there, like a white and tattered ghost, glowing in the brilliant lights. If the sun hurt here, why didn't those bright lights? Maybe not the right spectrum. Claire's brain felt sluggish and too tired to work it all out. "Pitting men against each other like fighting dogs in a pit. I can smell the stink of fear and violence here."
Oliver nodded slowly and got to his feet from where he'd been kneeling, examining something Claire couldn't see. "They've been here very recently," he said. "Recently enough to kill someone and set the traps outside. Pressure mines, presumably, triggered when your guards advanced into the shadows. Someone knew precisely what you'd do when you arrived."
"They only misjudged how many I'd bring with me," she said. She seemed all bone and muscle now, and her eyes glittered like ice. "They've made a fatal error. They should have made sure to kill me."
"I'm sure they'll take that to heart," Oliver said. "They knew we were coming. That much is quite obvious."
Amelie turned. Claire thought at first that she was getting her attention, but no, the gray eyes were staring out at something else.
"They've moved operations," she said. "And we have no way of knowing where that is at present. But we will find them, and when we do...when we do, no one will be exempt. No one."
"But--"
"No one," Amelie said. Oliver nodded. "They've allowed humans to fight on equal terms, and humans have the advantage of numbers. They will destroy us with this, even without the danger of exposure. It must stop. Dead."
That,Claire thought with a sick feeling,wasn't a metaphor.
She had to find them first and get Shane out.
Eve was waiting on the street next to her car when the limousine dropped Claire off at home. Amelie hadn't said a word to her, although Claire had tried to talk. It was like she no longer acknowledged Claire existed at all.
"What thehell is going on?" Eve demanded as the limo sped away, gliding like a sleek, black shark. She was dressed in a black corset dress with purple net underneath it, and her lipstick was a shocking magenta. When Eve got distressed, she sometimes channeled it into her wardrobe. And from how she looked today, she wasscreaming on the inside. "Claire? First Shane going over the edge, and you said you'd call! You didn't call! Was Michael there?" That was a sudden flare of hope that glowed inside her like a spotlight, but it dimmed suddenly at the look on Claire's face. "He wasn't. He's not with Amelie, either."
"No," Claire said very reluctantly. She took a step toward her friend. "I don't know where he is, but I think Michael went to go talk to Shane without us, to try to get him to snap out of it."
"And that didn't go well," Eve finished. Her eyes were dark and bleak. "Guys. Why do theynever listen? Even the cute, hot, smart ones? Didn't we agreeyou'd talk to Shane?"
"I think Michael was trying to protect me," Claire said. She felt miserable, and she ached all over. "In case Shane got violent. I'm sorry, Eve. I'm so sorry." She wanted to cry. Everything had gone so wrong, and unlike most times, she felt like she couldn't controlany of it. Everybody was lying or sneaking around or under someone else's control. Amelie had gone all Warrior Princess on her, and Oliver--well, he was being Oliver, but squared. Even Kim had boned her, and she'dexpected that one. But it still hurt, at least physically.
"Oh, honey, it's all right," Eve said. She blinked and looked closer. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Kim lured us into a trap. A building blew up."
"A building blew--" Eve edited herself, backed up, and said, "Wait, did you just sayKim ?My Kim? I mean, the Kim we all hate now who's inprison ? That one? Were you locked up? When were you locked up?Why were you--"
"They let her out," Claire interrupted, and squeezed her eyes shut. "And it was my idea. I thought she could help us trace the signal to where they were holding the fights."
"Oh? Oh. Well, that was a pretty good idea, actually."
"It was a terrible idea. She alerted them somehow. They almost killed us. And they royally pissed Amelie off." Claire's tears were really threatening now, triggered by the warm, concerned look Eve was giving her. "It's all coming apart. I don't know...I think they know we're looking for them. I think--oh, God, Eve--I think Amelie's going to kill everybody now and I don't know what to do!" It came out as a plaintive little wail, and Claire instantly felt ashamed of herself. She was falling apart, and it wasn't like her. She'd stood up to Oliver. To Bishop. To Amelie. Even to Bad Crazy Myrnin.
The problem was that this time, the enemy, though known, was for all intents and purposes invisible. Faceless. Worse, the enemy she'd seen, faced, wasShane. And that hurt; it had cracked some fundamental, unshakeable strength in her that she needed right now. Desperately. There wasn't anyone or anything she could stand up to, because they were shadows, smoke, invisible or untouchable, like Bishop and Gloriana and Vassily.
Or like Kim.The thought hit her and vanished. God, she hated her. She hated her most, truthfully, for saying that she hoped Shane died.
That, Claire couldn't forgive. It burned in her guts like a beaker full of acid.
"I'm sorry," she said, and caught her breath. Her voice sounded ragged. "I'm sorry. It's been a very bad morning."
"You look like somebody dragged you by the hair through an ash factory," Eve said. "Come in. You need a shower."
"No. We need to find Michael and Shane!"
"And we're not going to do it without getting a plan together, right? Because I'm pretty sure that wherever they are, they're not wandering the town looking forus ." Eve, suddenly, was all business. Usually Claire was (or, at least, thought she was) the logical, planning part of the team, while Eve provided the passion and intuition. But today, Eve was in charge, and she took Claire firmly by the shoulders and steered her up the walk, toward the steps. "I called the police and talked to Hannah. No sign of the boys, or this messed-up fight club they've gotten themselves mixed up with. It's quiet out there. They've searched the gym, too. No sign of them there."
"Eve, we have todo something. "
"I know," Eve said. "And the first thing you're going to do is take a shower, wash off the--Oh, my God, is thatblood ?"
"It's not his," Claire said. "It's not Shane's, I mean."
"Or Michael's?"
She hadn't evenasked. That made her want to beat her head against the wall...but then she remembered Oliver had been specific. "No, it was human blood, but it wasn't Shane's. So not Michael's, either."
"Thank God." Eve rested her shoulder against the wall of the house for a second, next to the door, and squeezed her eyes shut. She looked almost dizzy with relief. "Okay, inside. I don't know whose blood it is, but it doesn't need to be all over you."
No arguing with that, really.
Cleaning up had a definite stabilizing effect, to Claire's surprise; she got her emotional bearings again, dressed, and found Eve pacing downstairs in the living room, talking on the phone. When she saw Claire descending the stairs, she hung up and dropped her cell back in her pocket. "Listen, I was thinking. What if we go talk to Frank again? Now that Kim busted open the encryption on that Web site, maybe he can tell us more. What do you think?"
"I think I should have thought of it," Claire said, and managed a smile. "I'll call Myrnin. We can use the portal."
"Ugh. Ihate that thing," Eve said. "But yeah, okay, I'm up for scrambled molecules today. But if that thing ruins
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