Morganville (Justin Bieber)

Chapter 53

Only he wasn't, because between one blink and the next, as Eve tried to rush into the open smoke-filled door, Michael plunged out of it, and he grabbed her and hauled her back. "No!'" he yelled. "What the hell are you doing here?'"

"Michael!'" Eve turned and threw herself into his arms. "Where's Monica?'"

"In there.'" Michael looked terrible—smoke-stained and red-eyed, with little burned patches in his shirt. "The others went in to get her. I—I had to come out.'"

Vampires could be killed by fire. I remembered that from the list I'd made shortly after moving to Morganville. I couldn't believe he'd risked his just barely begun life to get as far as he'd gone.

"Damn right you can't!'" Eve yelled. "If you go and get yourself killed for Monica Morrell, I'll never forgive you!'"

"It wouldn't be for Monica,'" he said. "You know that.'"

We stared at the flames, waiting. Seconds ticked by, and there was no sign of anyone: no Monica, and no cops, either. The horizon was getting lighter in the east, I realised, going from dark blue to twilight.

Dawn was coming, and we were almost out of time to get Monica to Founder's Square, if they could get her at all.

"Sun's coming!'" Michael shouted over the roar of the fire.

I didn't ask how he knew. He'd known when he was a ghost; I figured it was probably the same time sense as a vampire's. Made sense. It would be a survival trait, to know when to get under cover.

"You need to get out of here!'" I yelled back. A thick, black billow of smoke belched out of the building.

"No!'"

"At least get in the police car!'" Eve pointed to it, on the other side of the fence. "Tinted windows! We'll wait here, I swear!'"

"I'm not leaving you!'"

The sun crested the far horizon in a tiny sliver of gold, and where it touched him, Michael's pale skin started to sizzle and smoke. He hissed in pain and slapped at it. A pale, licking flame took hold on his hand.

Me and Eve screamed, and Eve tackled him into the shadows. That helped, but not much; he was still burning, just more slowly. Michael groaned and looked like he was trying not to scream.

"Ana!'" Eve tossed me the car keys. "Ram the gate! Get it open! Do it!'"

"But—your car!'"

"It's just a freakin 'car ! Come on, move it! We'll never get him over the fence!'"

I scrambled back over the slick, warm iron of the fence, slicing my hands in two or three more places, and barely felt the impact when I fell this time. I was up and running for the Caddy, and then I changed course, threw myself into the driver's seat of the police car, and started it with the keys hanging from the ignition.

I backed it up almost to the end of the block, put the car in drive, and pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

I screamed and managed to hang on to the wheel somehow as the gate rushed up at me; there was a bone-jarring crunch, and I slammed on the brakes. The gates flew open, bent and mangled, and the police car gave a roar and died, sputtering. I got out and opened the back door as Eve rushed Michael toward me; Michael dived in, and I slammed the door behind him. Eve was right—the windows were heavily tinted, probably to protect vampire cops from the sun. He'd be okay in there.

"What about the others?'" I yelled at Eve, who shook her head. We both turned to look at the warehouse, which was fully on fire now, shooting flames twenty or thirty feet into the morning sky. "Oh God. Oh God ! We have to do something!'"