Midnight Bites by Rachel Caine Page A

it. Eve skipped past and down the hall, not running but walking fast and hard. She took the right turn to the end of the hall, where her room faced her brother, Jason’s. His door was shut, and she didn’t hesitate;she opened her own door, stepped in, and shut it softly, then clicked the dead bolt lock she’d installed herself when she was twelve. It wasn’t just on account of her dad, but times like these, it helped.
    She dumped her book bag on the bed and turned to stare at the closed door. For fifteen seconds, it was quiet. Twenty. Twenty-five.
    And then, a fist hit the door with a bang. Just once, hard enough to make the whole thing jump and shiver, but the lock held tight. He rattled the knob.
    â€œIngrate!” her dad yelled, and she heard him kicking another door. Jason’s.
Oh God.
But she’d helped Jason make his room a fortress, too, and pretty soon she heard her father wandering off toward the kitchen to rescue his forgotten beer.
    Eve sank down on her bed, weak at the knees, and reached over for her stuffed gargoyle. She hugged him hard for a while, then reached out and picked up the walkie-talkie from her bedside table. She turned it on. “Earth to Uranus,” she said. “Come in, Uranus.”
    Static crackled, and even the comfort of her unconditionally loving stuffed animal felt a little empty, until she heard her brother’s voice come through the speaker. “My call sign’s Charon, dumbass. In case you forgot.”
    â€œThat’s just a moon, not even a planet.” She let a second or two go by, and then said, “You okay, Jase?”
    â€œLike you care.” There was a dull resentment in Jason’s voice. He was younger than she was, but in some ways he was also way older. And harder. “Anything that takes the heat off you, right?”
    â€œI didn’t even know he was here! What the hell, Jase, you pulled a
knife
?”
    â€œSo what? I like knives.”
    All of Eve’s good intentions shriveled, because she knew he did. He’d shown her one six months ago, a long, wicked thing, and he’d cut her with it. Accidentally, he’d said. She hadn’t been so sure. Stillwasn’t. Jason . . . something had broken in Jason, and she didn’t know how to fix it. It made her feel awful and hollow inside.
    â€œHow bad did he get you?” she finally asked.
    â€œIt won’t show.”
    â€œShit . . .” It felt bad sitting here, separated, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what to do. “I wish—”
    â€œYou wish you had a spine, Sis? You wish you could stand up to the old man? Don’t worry about it. Next time he raises a hand to me, I’ll break it off. Count on it.”
    Just like that, he was off the radio. She tried him again, but he didn’t answer. Eve slowly stretched out on her bed, pulled a
Nightmare Before Christmas
blanket over herself when the chills set in, and tried to think about what to do. Call the cops? Yeah, she’d tried it. Mom had shut that down right at the door, and nobody was going to listen to bad-kid Jason and his weird Goth sister anyway. Not like the cops in Morganville ever really cared too much.
    She was half-asleep when her mother knocked on her door and told her dinner was on the table. Eve rolled out of bed, took her hair out of the pigtails, and shook it down around her face so it mostly covered her eyes—her go-to strategy for dealing with her family—and got ready to endure dinner. Dad would be passed out, so it’d just be a silent affair anyway; Jason would be simmering with rage, Mom would be checked out on a mental vacation, and the meal would be horrible.
So not looking forward to creamed corn and Spam.
    Eve heard a sound at the window, and turned, thinking it was a branch, or maybe—insanely—Michael Glass trying to get her attention.
    Instead, a vampire smiled at her from the other side of the window.