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Crave
Melissa Darnell


Forbidden to LoveDoomed to Fail Savannah Colbert has never known why she’s so hated by the kids of the Clann. Nor can she deny her instinct to get close to Clann golden boy Tristan Coleman. Especially when she recovers from a strange illness and the attraction becomes nearly irresistible. It’s as if he’s a magnet, pulling her gaze, her thoughts, even her dreams.Her family has warned her to have nothing to do with him, or any members of the Clann. But when Tristan is suddenly everywhere she goes, Savannah fears she’s destined to fail. For years, Tristan has been forbidden to even speak to Savannah Colbert.Then Savannah disappears from school for a week and comes back. . . different, and suddenly he can’t stay away. Boys seem intoxicated just from looking at her. His own family becomes stricter than ever. And Tristan has to fight his own urge to protect her, to be near her no matter the consequences. . . .










Savannah

A wave of pain rose up to slam into my stomach and chest, wiping the smile right off my face. This was an ache I knew far too well. It hit me every time he came within a hundred yards of me, usually before I even saw or heard him.

Michelle let out a dreamy sigh, confirming what my body already knew.

“Please let me trip him,” Anne muttered once she’d glanced back over her shoulder and spotted him, too.

I kept my gaze on Michelle, though the tiny blonde’s moonstruck expression was tough to watch. Anything to keep me facing forward.

Just a few more seconds and he’d pass right behind me. I told myself I didn’t care, even as my skin tingled with some secret knowledge all its own that he was drawing closer.

I groaned inside my head. How did he do this to me?

Tristan

Even in the middle of a noisy mass of students, one girl’s laugh grabbed my attention.

I couldn’t figure out how she did it. The hallway was loud, with at least a hundred students all talking and yelling in a space only a few yards wide and a hundred yards long. But every time Savannah Colbert laughed, the husky sound somehow managed to reach out and twist up everything inside me.

I and all the rest of the descendants of the Clann had been forbidden to have anything to do with Savannah. Supposedly she was a dangerous influence or something. Whatever she was, she was definitely on the Clann’s list of social outcasts. And Mom made sure I knew it, too, constantly pounding it into my head for the past five years to “stay away from that Colbert girl.”

And yet I couldn’t stop myself from turning to look at her now.


The Clann

Crave

Melissa Darnell






www.miraink.co.uk (http://www.miraink.co.uk)




Dedication


As always, thanks goes out first to my hubby, Tim … not just for being my soul mate in every sense of the word, but also for being my best friend, the bouncing board I run all my plot ideas by, my confidant and therapist, the best short-order cook I’ve ever seen, the ultimate beta reader, not to mention so romantic you put me to shame and inspire me daily to write another story! Thank you for showing me just what a true romantic hero should be like! I thank God every day for bringing us into each other’s lives.



To my boys, Hunter and Alex … you gift me with tons of laughter and smiles and hugs every single day, fueling me to keep on keeping on. I hope that I can make you proud of your mother. I love you guys!



A huge THANK YOU also goes out to my editor, Natashya. You are truly one of the great unsung heroes in the publishing world, and this story would not be even half what it is without you! Thank you for believing in me and my characters and helping make them so much better. If they live on in even one reader’s mind, it is because of you and your genius suggestions! Also, thank you to everyone at Harlequin TEEN for your awesome ideas and creativity and support for this series!



Thank you to my agent, Alyssa Eisner-Henkin, for your enthusiastic support and all your hard work. You are an amazing and tireless warrioress for authors, and I am truly blessed to get to work with you!



To my friends Melissa, Mandi and Corrie … you have shown me the true meaning of lasting friendship over the years, no matter how much or little we had in common (or how bad I stank at sports!), and regardless of how time and miles and crazy schedules have separated us. I miss hanging out with you guys and think about y’all every single day.



And last, but NEVER least … thank you to my family. You have taught me how to be strong, have faith and have the courage to keep reaching for my dreams. Thank you for your love and your support!




PROLOGUE


Savannah

I edged closer to my unconscious boyfriend cuffed to a chair nearby.

My judges gathered in a tight half circle a few feet away. Probably so they could see me better as I failed their test.

The guard’s face looked bored, as if to say this was nothing personal. Which was a lie. This was totally personal. And all my fault.

He reached inside his inner jacket pocket and took out two items … a syringe and a scalpel. Their clear plastic protectors made loud snicks as he removed them.

I gulped, the air rushing in and out of my lungs in noisy gusts I couldn’t hide within the silence of the cold cement room.

The guard stepped closer to us. My thigh muscles tensed, the instinct to fight pulsing through me, and the guard’s eyes grew cautious. He knew I was desperate. But that didn’t make me stupid. The guard was big, built like a linebacker beneath his badly fitted suit. And even if I could somehow fight him off, my audience of judges would step in to stop me.

I struggled to breathe, calm down and think straight. Time for logic, not emotion.

Okay. So we were in deep this time. But we weren’t totally doomed. Yet. The judges had promised that I had only to pass one test, and then my boyfriend could go free.

An innocent boy who wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t fallen in love with him. My fault he was in danger …

No, no time for a guilt trip right now. I had to focus on passing this test so we could go home.

Just one test to pass.

A test I was genetically destined to fail.




CHAPTER 1


Savannah

The last day I was fully human started off like any other April Monday in East Texas. Oh, sure, there were all kinds of warning signs that my entire world was about to come crashing down around me. But I didn’t recognize them until it was too late.

I should have known something major was wrong when I woke up that morning feeling like utter crap, even though I’d just snagged a full nine hours of sleep. I’d never been sick before, not even with the flu or a cold, so it couldn’t be anything like that.

“Good morning, dear. Your breakfast is on the table,” Nanna greeted me as I shuffled into the kitchen. As usual, she was the ultimate in contradictions, her voice and smile a Southern mixture of sweetness and steel. Like your favorite old baby blanket wrapped around a mace. “Eat up. I’m going to go find my shoes.”

I nodded and plopped down into one of the creaky chairs at the table. When it came to cooking, Nanna rocked. And she made the absolute best oatmeal in the world, maple and brown sugar with a ton of butter just the way I liked it. But it tasted like flavorless mush today. I gave up after two bites and dumped it in the trash can under the sink seconds before she came back.

“Finished already?” she asked before slurping her tea. The sound grated over my nerves.

“Um, yeah.” I set the bowl and spoon in the sink, keeping my back turned so she couldn’t see the blush burning my cheeks. I was a horrible liar. One look at my face and she’d know I’d just thrown out the breakfast she’d made me.

“And your tea?”

Oops. I’d forgotten my daily tea, a blend that Nanna made just for me from the herbs she spent months growing in our backyard. “Sorry, Nanna, there’s no time. I still have to fix my hair.”

“You can do both.” She held out my mug, her cheeks bunched into a bright smile that didn’t do much to disguise the snap in her eyes.

Sighing, I took the cup with me to the bathroom, setting it on the counter so I could have both hands free to do battle with my wild, carrot-colored curls.

“Drink your tea yet?” she asked ten minutes later as I finished taming my hair into a long ponytail.

“Nag, nag, nag,” I mumbled.

“I heard that, missy,” she called out from the dining room, making me smile.

I chugged the cold tea, set down the empty mug with a loud thump she’d be sure to hear, then headed for my bedroom to grab my backpack. And nearly fell over while trying to pick it up. Jeez. I must have forgotten to drop off a few books in my locker last week. Using both hands, I hefted a strap onto my shoulder and trudged back down the hall.

Nanna was at the dining table digging through her mammoth purse for her keys. That would take a while. “Meet you at the car?” I said.

She gave an absentminded wave, which I took for a yes, so I headed through the living room for the front door.

As usual, Mom had been on the couch for hours already, talking on her cell phone while drowning in stacks of paperwork and pens she’d be sure to lose under the sofa cushions by the end of the day. Why she couldn’t work at a desk like every other safety product sales rep was beyond me. But the chaos seemed to make her happy.

Even as she ended one call, her phone squalled for attention again. I knew better than to wait, so I just waved goodbye to her.

“Hang on, George.” She hit the phone’s mute button then held out her arms. “Hey, what’s this? No ‘good morning, Mom,’ no hug goodbye?”

Grinning, I crossed the room and bent over to hug her, resisting the urge to cough as her favorite floral perfume flooded my nose and throat. When I straightened up again, my back popped and twinged.

“Was that your back?” she gasped. “Good grief, you sound worse than your nanna today.”

“I heard that,” Nanna yelled from the dining room.

Smothering a smile, I shrugged. “Guess I practiced too much this weekend.” My beginner ballet and jazz classes would be performing in Miss Catherine’s Dance Studio’s annual spring recital soon. As the days ticked down to my latest impending public humiliation, I’d kind of started freaking out about it.

“I’ll say. Why don’t you take it a little easier? You’ve still got two weeks till the recital.”

“Yeah, well, I need every second of practice I can get.”

That is, if I wanted to improve enough to avoid disappointing my father yet again.

“You know, killing yourself in the backyard isn’t going to impress your father, either.”

I froze, hating that I was so transparent. “Nothing impresses him.” At least, not enough to earn a visit from him more than twice a year. Probably because I was such a screwup at sports. The man moved like a ballroom dancer, always light and graceful on his feet, but I didn’t seem to have gotten even a hint of those genes in my DNA. Mom had tried enrolling me in every activity she could think of over the years to help me develop some grace and hand-eye coordination … soccer, twirling, gymnastics, basketball. Last year was volleyball. This year it was dance, both at Miss Catherine’s Dance Studio and at my high school.

Apparently my father was fed up with my lack of athletic skill, judging by Mom’s argument with him over the phone last September when I began dancing. He really didn’t want me to take dance lessons this year. He must have thought they were a waste on someone as uncoordinated as me.

I was out to prove him wrong. And so far, failing miserably.

Mom sighed. “Oh, hon. You really shouldn’t worry so much about making him happy. Just dance for yourself, and I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“Uh-huh. That’s what you said last year about volleyball.” And yet, in spite of taking her advice to “just have fun,” I’d still ended up hitting a ball through the gym’s tile ceiling during a tournament. When the broken pieces had come crashing down, they’d almost wiped out half my team. That had sort of ended the fun of volleyball for me.

Mom bit her lip, probably to keep from laughing at the same memory.

“Found ‘em!” Nanna sang out in triumph from the dining room. “Ready to rock and roll, kid?”

Sighing, I pulled up my backpack’s slipping strap onto my shoulder again. It scraped at my skin through my shirt, forcing a hiss out of me. Youch. “Maybe I should grab an aspirin before we go.”

“Absolutely not.” Nanna strode into the room, keys jingling in her hand. “Aspirin’s bad for you.”

Huh? “But you and Mom take it all the t—”

“But you don’t,” Nanna snapped. “You’ve never taken that synthetic crap before, and you won’t start polluting yourself with it now. I’ll make you more of my special tea instead. Here, take my purse to the car and I’ll be right there.”

Without waiting for a reply, she shoved her forty-pound purse into my hands and headed for the kitchen. Great. I’d be late for sure. Again.

“Why can’t I just take an aspirin like everyone else in the world?”

Mom smiled and picked up her phone.

Four very long minutes later, Nanna finally joined me in the car. She thrust a metal thermos into my hand. “There, that ought to fix you right up. Be careful, though. It’s hot. I had to nuke it.”

I bit back a groan. Nanna hated the microwave. The only button she’d learned how to use was the three-minute auto-heat. I’d be lucky if the tea cooled off at all before we reached my school, even if it was a ten-minute drive.

We lived in a small, somewhat isolated nest of houses five miles outside of town. As I blew on my tea to cool it, I watched the rolling hills pass by, dotted here and there with solitary houses, big round bales of hay, and cows in all shades of red, brown and black. Out here, the thick pine trees that had once covered all of East Texas had been cut back to make room for ranches that were now broken only by rows of fences, mostly of barbed wire, sometimes wide slats of wood turned gray by time and the weather. You could breathe out here.

But as we neared the city limits, the strips of trees became thicker and showed up more often, until we passed through a section of nothing but pines just before reaching the junior high and intermediate schools. The first traffic-light intersection marked the start of downtown Jacksonville, where all of a sudden it became nothing but streets and business after business, mostly single-story shops and a few three- and four-story buildings for the occasional bank, hotel or hospital. And more pines winding around and through every area of housing large and small, even butting up against the edges of the basket factory and near the Tomato Bowl, the brownstone open-air stadium where all the home football and soccer games were held.

I used to love my hometown with its cute boutiques and shops full of antiques where Nanna sold her crocheted designs. I even used to love the town’s ribbons of pines and the way the wind in the trees added a subtle sighing to the air. When the fields of grass and hay turned brown and dead in the winter, you could always count on the pines to keep Jacksonville colorful all year long.

But the town’s founding families, locally referred to as the Clann due to their Irish ancestry, had ruined it for me. Now when I heard the wind in the trees, it sounded like whispering, as if the trees themselves had joined the town’s grapevine of gossips. Those gossips had probably produced the long line of famous actors, singers, comedians and models that Jacksonville’s relatively small population of thirteen thousand residents was so proud of. Growing up here, where everybody talked about everybody else, either made you want to live here forever or run away and become something special just to prove the gossips and the Clann wrong.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to be famous. But I definitely wanted to run away.

We made the daily turn through the neighborhoods that led to Jacksonville High School, the drive made shady by still more pines and a few hardwoods that lined the modest streets. And then the blue-and-yellow home of the JHS Indians exploded into view, its perimeter choked by woods thick and shadowed, and I felt my shoulders and neck tense up.

Welcome to my daytime prison for the next four years, complete with a guard shack and a guard who lowered a heavy metal bar across the driveways on the dot of 8:00 a.m. every weekday, forcing you to accept a tardy slip in order to gain entrance when you were late. Unlike a teacher who might be convinced to let you slide, the guard was notoriously without mercy, ruling our school’s entrance as if it were the gates to some medieval castle.

If JHS were a castle, then its royalty would definitely be the twenty-two equally merciless Clann kids who ruled the rest of the campus.

The Clann kids had probably learned their bullying tactics from their parents, who ran this town and a good portion of Texas, inserting themselves into every possible leadership role from county and state even to federal government levels. Local rumor had it that the only way the Clann could do this was by using magic, of all things. Which was total bull. There was nothing magical about the Clann’s power-hungry methods. I should know. I’d had more than enough of their kids’ idea of “magical” fun at school. After graduation, I was so out of here.

While Nanna pulled up to the curb by the main hall doors, I sucked down a quick slurp of tea, adding a burnt tongue to my list of pains for the day.

“Better take that with you.” Nanna nodded at the thermos. “You should feel it kick in pretty soon, but you might need more later.”

“Okay. Hey, don’t forget, today’s an A day, and I have algebra last period, so—”

“So pick you up in the front parking lot by the cafeteria. Yeah, yeah. I’m old, not senile. I think I can keep up with your alternating A-B schedule.” Her twinkling green eyes nearly disappeared as her plump cheeks bunched higher into a wry smile.

The front parking lot was closer to my last class on A days. The first class in five years that I’d shared with Tristan Coleman …

“Savannah?” She shifted the car into Drive then looked at me with raised eyebrows, a silent prod to get moving. I climbed out into the pine-scented warmth of the morning, shut the door and gave her a wave goodbye.

Tristan …

His name echoed through my head, fuzzing up my mind with old memories and emotions. An answering tingle rippled up the back of my neck and over my scalp. Ignoring it, I stuffed the forbidden thoughts back into their imaginary box and turned to face the main hall doors. The day was sure to be miserable enough without my stewing over backstabbing traitors like him.

Sure enough, I shoved through the main hall’s heavier-than-normal glass front doors and slammed right into the Brat Twins, two of the Clann’s worst members. Yep, the perfect start to a fabulous day.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot!” Vanessa Faulkner said, brushing off imaginary dirt from her latest Juicy Couture purse.

“Yeah, try looking before you just barrel in,” Hope, her mirror-image sister, added. She reached up and patted her perfect platinum curls, the tiny mole to the left of her smirk the only difference between the two sisters.

I glanced around. We already had an audience for my daily humiliation. Great. My hands itched to try and smooth my own wild curls as my stomach twisted into knots. Why did the Brat Twins have to treat me like this? Just because I couldn’t get a tan? Because my hair was the wrong color, too frizzy, not shiny enough?

“Well? Aren’t you at least going to say you’re sorry?” Vanessa demanded.

For a moment, the anger drowned out everything else. What would happen if I slapped that smirk off her face? She couldn’t go crying to her precious Clann for the usual revenge. Nanna was retired, Mom worked for a Louisiana-based company and my father owned a national historical-home restoration business. The Clann couldn’t touch my family.

Or could they? Several members of the Clann were politicians at the federal level. And Louisiana was within easy reach of East Texas. So maybe they did have enough connections to at least get Mom fired. Crap.

My backpack’s strap bit into my hands as I swallowed down all the things I wanted to say and instead muttered, “Sorry.”

“Yeah, you are,” Vanessa said. She and her sister laughed like hyenas high on helium and turned away.

I should have just let them go and been grateful to get away from them. But a headache pounded at my temples now, and all I could think about was how different things were when we were kids. Back when these girls were my best friends.

As soon as my hand touched her shoulder, Vanessa hissed.

Both sisters whirled around to face me again. Shocked by the fury on Vanessa’s face, I stepped backward until the wall of lockers stopped me. Whoa. This was nuts.

“Van, why are you being like this?” I made a point of using my old nickname for her. “We used to be friends. Remember Valentine’s Day, fourth grade? We held that pretend wedding, and you two were my bridesmaids?” That was the last day we’d all played together, and it was one of my favorite childhood memories. The twins and I had prepared for the ceremony by sitting in a circle on the merry-go-round and braiding flowers into each other’s hair. While my first and only boyfriend, Tristan Coleman, had stood beneath the nearby oak tree watching us, waiting for me.

Waiting to give me my first and only kiss …

Everything about that half hour had seemed so sweet, almost magically perfect. But I must have been the only one who’d thought so. Because the next day, all of the Clann’s kids had refused to talk to me, not even long enough to tell me what I’d done to upset them. Including Tristan. Ever since, the only time anyone from the Clann spoke to me was when the Brat Twins called me names or “accidentally” shoved me in the hallways.

“We braided daisies into each other’s hair,” Hope whispered, almost smiling.

She remembered. I nodded, daring a small smile of my own, and eased away from the lockers.

Vanessa’s eyes softened for a few seconds, transforming her into the girl I used to know, like she was remembering our former friendship, too. But then her expression darkened again, twisting with hatred. “That day was a huge mistake. Your mistake, for thinking a freak like you could actually be friends with anyone in the Clann. And especially for thinking you could even pretend to marry someone like Tristan.”

“Yeah. The Clann does not hang out with freaks like you,” Hope added.

So much for remembering the good old days.

I sighed, defeat making me even more tired. “I don’t get you two. Or Tristan. You guys used to be my best friends. What did I ever do to—”

Vanessa closed the distance between us so fast I didn’t have time to react, her nose nearly touching mine. “You were born, freak. That’s more than enough reason to make every member of the Clann hate you for the rest of our lives. Now get. Out. Of our. Way!” Using both hands, she slammed me against the lockers then stalked off, Hope tagging along in her footsteps.

I shouldn’t have been stunned. I should have known the past was over and done with and there was no going back. But still, it took a few seconds before I could make my feet move again. My throat and eyes burning, I tried to ignore the way everyone was staring at me and headed for my locker at the other end of the hallway, my chin lifted, as if the encounter had been no big deal.



Three hours later, I flopped into my seat at my friends’ table in the cafeteria.

Carrie Calvin’s eyebrows shot up beneath her long blond bangs. “A little early in the day to be so tired, don’t you think?” She flicked her shoulder-length hair behind her.

I managed a grunt and focused on unscrewing the cap of my tea thermos. Time for another dose of homegrown medicine. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long to kick in this time. Or maybe I should open a vein in my arm and pour it in directly.

As promised, Nanna’s special tea had helped during first-period English. But climbing the sports and art building’s two flights of stairs to second period pre-drill class, followed by an hour and a half of dancing, had set back my recovery. I felt worse than ever.

“Oh, she’s just worn-out from all that dancing she’s taken up,” Anne Albright said. “You know, twirling with the froufrou tutus at Miss Catherine’s Dance Studio. Kicking it in pre-drill with all those sad Charmer wannabes.” She tightened her thick, chestnut-brown ponytail and grinned, apparently unable to resist stirring up a little excitement for lunch.

I chucked a French fry at her. She was lucky she was my best friend, or I’d be tempted to dump her soda over her head instead. She knew Carrie and Michelle were still annoyed that I’d picked dance lessons instead of playing volleyball again with them this year. To them, even sucking at volleyball was better than dancing.

Michelle Wilson turned her big hazel eyes toward me. “Are you going to try out for the Charmers, Sav?”

It took me a few seconds to understand. Then I remembered. Most students only took pre-drill as a required class so they could audition for the JHS Cherokee Charmers Dance/Drill Team in May.

“Of course she isn’t,” Anne jumped in before I could reply. “Pre-drill is just her mom’s idea of fulfilling her P.E. credit without embarrassing herself again like last year.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said. But I couldn’t really be mad. Anne was only saying the truth, as usual. I had taken pre-drill for the P.E. credit, and because it had no audience or competitions for me to doom a team at. Trying out for the Charmers was the last thing on my mind.

“Sorry,” Anne muttered, both looking and sounding sincere.

Between desperate gulps of tea, I gave her a half grin to show I wasn’t really upset. She’d been my best friend for over two years now, and I’d gotten used to her blunt style. In a way, it was even comforting. At least I could always count on her to be honest, no matter what.

A new wave of pain rose up to slam into my stomach and chest, wiping the smile right off my face. This was an ache I knew far too well. It hit me every time he came within a hundred yards of me, usually before I even saw or heard him.

Michelle, who sat across from me, let out a dreamy sigh, confirming what my body already knew.

“Please let me trip him,” Anne muttered once she’d glanced over her shoulder and spotted him, too.

I kept my gaze on Michelle, though the tiny blonde’s moonstruck expression was tough to watch. Anything to keep me facing forward. Tristan had to either walk along the outer wall of the cafeteria or cut across the center by our table on his way to the food lines. Most people cut across. No doubt he would, too.

Just a few more seconds and he’d pass right behind me. I told myself I didn’t care, even as my skin tingled with some secret knowledge all its own that he was drawing closer.

And then I heard it … a low whistling, the notes so quiet I could almost have believed I’d imagined them if not for my sensitive hearing. Sugarplum music, as plain as if he’d whistled the notes right against my ear.

Ever since he’d seen my ballet slippers fall out of my backpack during algebra earlier this year, Tristan had started whistling The Nutcracker’s “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” song every time he saw me. I remembered his sense of humor, how his mind worked. This was his wordless way of teasing me about wanting to be a ballerina, without having to actually bother to talk to me. Because of course a klutz like me couldn’t ever become a decent dancer, right?

I felt a blush flood my cheeks and neck with heat, adding to my frustration. I must look like a strawberry … red face, red hair, red ears. But no way would I duck my head. I would not give him the satisfaction of any reaction I could control, at least.

“Oh, I am so gonna trip him,” Anne hissed, turning her chair toward him. Apparently she got his sense of humor, too, even if she didn’t approve of it.

“No, you can’t!” Michelle reached over the edge of the round table, grabbed Anne’s arm and yanked her sideways half out of her seat. By the time Anne recovered, he was past our table.

“He’s a member of the Clann. You know how all those witches treat Savannah,” Anne said.

“Tristan Coleman isn’t like them. He’s nice,” Michelle said. “The whole witchcraft thing is just a rumor. And a stupid one, at that.”

Carrie, Anne and I all shared a look.

Michelle sighed. “Tristan is so not a witch! Or warlock, or whatever they’re called. His family goes to my church. And he’s too nice to sacrifice small animals. Remember how he saved me last summer at that track meet? None of the others would have done that, but he did.”

Carrie and Anne both groaned out loud. We’d heard this story countless times this year, until Anne had finally threatened to beat Michelle to death if she told it one more time.

I just groaned inside my head. I was too busy forcing air in and out of my lungs past the tightness in my chest. How did he do this to me?

“‘Saved’ is a little much,” Carrie said. “And for the record, witches don’t sacrifice animals.”

“Yeah, Michelle,” Anne said. “All he did was help you off the track after you got shin splints.”

“Exactly!” Michelle retorted. “Those shin splints hurt so badly. And he was the only one to come and help me. And he didn’t even know me!”

Carrie sighed and dropped her chin into a propped-up hand.

“Michelle, get a grip. He just did that to make himself look good for everyone at the track meet.” Anne chugged the rest of her soda then burped. She didn’t bother to say excuse me. “He’s nothing more than a glorified spoiled rich kid.”

“That’s not true. And he doesn’t need to try and make himself look good. He already looks good. Did you see that chest? Those huge shoulders?” Michelle sighed again. “Thank you, God, for growth spurts. I swear he’s grown half a foot taller this year. And that new voice. Oh, yum.”

“Oh, gag me,” Anne said. “I’ll bet his ego grew right along with the rest of him. He thinks every girl on the planet should be eager to drool over him. And what do you mean, ‘that new voice’? You got a class with him or something?”

It was Michelle’s turn to blush. “No. He stops by the front office before first period on A days sometimes to talk to me and the other office aides.”

“And I’ll bet you just love chatting him up, don’t you?” Anne glared at her.

“Well, it … it’s the least I can do, since he saved me.”

“Ugh, I’m gonna hurl.” Anne gathered up her books.

“Me, too. I can’t believe you talk to a Clann member,” Carrie said, picking up her things despite her still half-full salad bowl. “Especially one who thinks he owns all of East Texas.”

I stared down at my untouched chili cheese fries. My comfort food looked anything but comforting today. “I think I’m done, too.”

“Aw, guys. Don’t be mad.” Michelle jumped up and grabbed her stuff. “Y’all are way too hard on him. He’s really very nice once you get to know him.”

“Puh-lease.” Anne proceeded to explain the difference between being nice and being a total player as we all headed for the trash cans then the rear exit. I followed but tuned them out, tired of hearing about Tristan Coleman’s infamous reputation with the girls. But my traitorous gaze still slipped over to the Clann kids’ table long enough to see that the prince of Jacksonville needed another haircut. Tristan’s golden curls had grown long enough to brush the collar of his polo shirt again.



Later that afternoon before fourth period, the foot traffic streamed around me like a human river flowing through the main hallway. I sighed, tired and achy and cranky, trying to ignore the claustrophobic feeling from the swarm of people all around me while I squatted in front of my bottom-row locker. I still hadn’t gotten used to how many students were packed into this campus every day. The junior high had only three grades and much bigger hallways, so when someone had bumped into me there last year, it had been a personal message. Here, students nudged against me every couple seconds as I struggled to find a pencil inside the chaos of my locker for my last class. Stupid algebra. It was my toughest subject, and the only class that required a pencil.

It was also the only one I had with any Clann members. And with the worst one of them all, too.

Thank goodness at least Anne was in the same class. She was a genius at anything to do with numbers.

She wasn’t great at waiting for me, though.

“Hey, slowpoke, you’re gonna be late. As usual.” Anne leaned against the lockers next to mine and gave me a friendly punch on the shoulder, hard enough to make me wobble. I righted myself and winced, guessing I’d probably have a bruise on my shoulder for a day or two.

“And what does a female jock care about being late to class?” I teased while I wearily continued to dig through books and supplies. Where the heck had that pack of pencils gone? If I had to borrow a pencil from Anne, I’d never hear the end of it. She’d use loaning me a pencil as an excuse to launch yet another tirade about how I needed to get organized.

She snorted and squatted down beside me. “Obvious answer. If volleyball doesn’t pan out for a scholarship, the grades will have to do it for me instead. Harvard costs a butt load, or haven’t you heard?”

“I still don’t understand why you need to go to Harvard just to become a CPA. Can’t you go to any college to do that?”

“And I still don’t understand why you can’t keep a locker clean.” She reached forward as if to start tidying up the pile. I swatted her hand away with a smile.

Suddenly someone rammed into my back. I threw one hand against the lockers and the other hand to the floor to catch myself as my backpack slid off my shoulder and thudded on the floor at my feet. My entire body vibrated from the impact, as if my bones were hollow and echoing from the hit like metal pipes. Then everything came cascading out of my locker in a mini avalanche, hitting my shoulder on the way down. That was definitely going to leave a bruise.

I glanced up in time to see Dylan Williams, another member of the Clann and one of my most loyal tormentors, saunter away with his usual braying laugh. Sometimes I had nightmares about that laugh of his. I shuddered.

“Oh, he did not just do that! I am so gonna kick his—” Anne jumped up, grabbed her chestnut ponytail in two thick handfuls and yanked the halves in opposite directions to tighten her rubber band. The same way she always tightened her ponytail before smacking one of her lethal power serves during a volleyball game. Was she about to smack Dylan a power serve to the head?

While the image was tempting, I didn’t want to know what the consequences would be if she actually did it. I grabbed her ankle and tugged just enough to direct her attention back to me.

“Anne, don’t, he isn’t worth it. Some people never change. Dylan’s been knocking books out of my arms and popping my bra for years.” I started grabbing things off the floor and stuffing them into my locker.

Grumbling, she bent down to help me. “Why don’t you pop him one?”

“Don’t worry, if he gets too bad, I’ll handle it.” Somehow. And definitely on a day when I didn’t feel so bad. “He’s just another spoiled brat from the Clann. Why give him the satisfaction of a reaction?” At least, that’s what my mother and grandmother kept telling me. So far, their theory that I should ignore the Clann bullies hadn’t been much of a success.

Anne frowned, but at least she didn’t go after the jerk.

As we fit the small mountain of papers and books back inside the too-small locker, a bright bit of yellow in the pile caught my eye. I reached beneath the jungle of stuff and snatched out a pack of pencils. “Yes, found them!”

“Finally. I am so cleaning that locker if you don’t.”

“Ha! Be my guest.” Everything now in its disorganized place, I stood up and shoved the locker door shut, having to use both hands to get it closed enough for the latch to click. “Just don’t blame me if something in there bites you.”

At Anne’s furtive glance toward the locker door, I couldn’t help but laugh. She wouldn’t hesitate to start a fight with a member of the Clann, but my messy locker scared her?

The laugh died as quickly as it had begun as a strange yet familiar ache welled up in my stomach and chest. I nearly moaned out loud. Not again.

Even knowing the cause for the weird ache couldn’t stop me from turning and looking down the hall. My gaze immediately collided and locked with the sensation’s green-eyed source towering over most of the other students.

Tristan

Even in the middle of a noisy mass of students, one girl’s laugh grabbed my attention.

I couldn’t figure out how she did it. The hallway was loud, with at least a hundred students all talking and yelling in a space only a few yards wide and thirty times as long. But every time Savannah Colbert laughed, the husky sound somehow managed to reach out and twist up everything inside me.

Part of me wished I never had to see or hear her again. Life would be a lot easier if I didn’t. The way I felt about Savannah was all mixed-up. Once, she’d been my best friend. And the first girl I’d ever kissed.

Then I’d made the mistake of telling my older sister, Emily, about pretending to marry Savannah during recess in the fourth grade. Emily had blabbed to our parents. Mom had blown a gasket and called the school to get me yanked out of Savannah’s class. Dad had turned purple in the face and gone all silent and scowling. And I’d known I was in big trouble.

Ever since, I and all the rest of the descendants of the Clann had been forbidden to have anything to do with Savannah. Supposedly she was a dangerous influence or something. Whatever she was, she was definitely on the Clann’s list of social outcasts. And Mom made sure I remembered it, too, constantly pounding it into my head for the past five years to “stay away from that Colbert girl.”

And yet I couldn’t stop myself from turning to look at her now.

From this distance, I couldn’t see Savannah’s eyes in detail. But I remembered them way too clearly. Their color changed from gray to slate-blue to blue-green depending on her mood. Wonder what color they are now? I thought, vaguely aware of my hands tightening around my books.

A heavy arm draped over my shoulder. “Hey, Tristan. Ready to hit the weights after school?”

My best friend, Dylan Williams, shook me, breaking my focus. I met his usual cocky grin with a frown of my own. “Yeah, sure. Though you might want to try showing up on time today, or Coach Parker is gonna be ticked.”

He laughed. “We’re descendants. What’s he gonna do to us?”

I shot a glance around to see if anyone was listening, then glared at him. “Dude, ever heard of the word ‘discretion’?” I lowered my voice, trying to set an example for the dumb blond. “You know we’re not supposed to talk about that stuff in public. And Coach Parker isn’t a descendant, so he’s still going to be ticked if you’re late again. Or do you actually like running laps?”

Dylan’s smile hardened as his chin rose a notch. “We’ll see who runs laps. No one messes with a descendant. Not even a football coach.”

“Even descendants have to play by the rules, Dylan. We always have, always will.”

He shook his shaggy bangs out of his eyes. “Maybe, for now. Or maybe we’ll be the descendants who make some changes.”

“Make some changes? Like what?”

He shrugged. “We founded this town. Don’t you think it’s past time we were running it the way we should be?”

I rocked back on my heels. “Oh, yeah? And how should we be running things?”

“I don’t know … more out in the open about it?”

I scowled at him, hoping he was just joking around. But something about the set of his jaw and the dark look in his eyes said otherwise. “You’re not suggesting coming out about the Clann’s abilities?”

He shrugged again. “Why not? This is the modern world. All the books and movies say we’re cool. Why not own up to it, let everyone know what we can—”

Sudden and total fear had me grabbing his shoulder at the base of his neck without thinking. I pulled his face close and growled, “Are you out of your freakin’ mind? If any other descendant heard you talking like that and told the elders, you’d be history.”

He stiffened under my grip, his chin hiking up again so he could meet my stare head-on with a glare of his own. He actually opened his mouth like he was going to argue.

But after a tense moment, he took a deep breath and chuckled. “Hey, man, ease up! I was just messing around. Forget about it.”

“Dylan—”

“I said I was just kidding! Man, can’t you even take a joke?”

I stared at him a few seconds longer, trying to figure out what was going on with him lately. Even joking around about stuff like that was dangerous, and he knew it. So why do it?

The warning bell rang, making me swear under my breath. I had less than a couple minutes now to get all the way across campus to the math and home-ec building. “All right. Are we cool?”

“Yeah, sure.” He lifted his head and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re just looking out for me, right?” He turned away, yelling “Later” over his shoulder as he headed in the opposite direction.

I watched the blond as he strutted off like he owned the world. Then I turned and headed for algebra class. Even if he’d been serious, Dylan was just a hothead with a big mouth. Being the star quarterback for the junior varsity team this year despite only being a freshman hadn’t improved his ego much, either. Hopefully he would come to his senses soon … before the elders had to step in. What he was talking about—the movies, the books—that was Hollywood. People liked the idea of magic. But no way would magical abilities fly in the real world, especially in Jacksonville, Texas. This was a Bible Belt town with conservative, old-school beliefs about religion and magic. Even if descendants held key positions in government and business here, if everyone found out just how powerful most descendants were, they would assume we were a bunch of Satan-worshiping baby murderers or something and run us out of the very town we founded. Dylan needed to remember that the Clann’s power came from the secrets we kept.

Well, one thing was for sure … if Dylan kept screwing around and being late all the time for practice, at least Coach Parker would be willing to help him regain his memory. The head coach had zero tolerance for tardy players, Clann or otherwise, on his teams. He’d probably make Dylan run laps after practice as punishment. That ought to take Dylan’s ego down a notch or two, and would totally serve the idiot right.

Sometimes I honestly couldn’t remember why I still considered him my best friend.

I headed down the hall toward the last class of the day. And toward Savannah. Her flame-bright hair and pale skin were easy to spot in the boring sea of tanned brunettes and blondes. A couple girls called out “Hey, Tristan!” to me, and one of the sophomore cheerleaders even touched my arm and grinned up at me. But I didn’t have time to stop and talk. I was much more interested in watching that redhead. Something about looking at Savannah calmed me down today.

I exited the air-conditioned main building and headed through the sticky spring-afternoon heat along the metal-awning-covered cement catwalk that stretched over the lower outer walkways, connecting the main building to the math building on the far side of the campus. Savannah and her friend were several yards ahead of me. Neither looked back. And yet something about the way Savannah’s shoulders rose up as soon as I saw her … I could almost swear she knew I was watching her. Not for the first time, I wondered if she could somehow sense the focus of my attention. But that was impossible. She wasn’t a descendant, and the Clann would know about any outsiders with special abilities like that.

Except … no normal girl had ever stuck in my mind like she did.

Then again, no girl, normal or otherwise, seemed to mess with my thoughts quite like Savannah did. So maybe I was just desperate to find any reason besides my own weakness to blame for the crazy hold she had on me.

At least she made algebra interesting.



Savannah

“You look like crap,” Anne whispered halfway through class, distracting me from the foggy circle my mind kept whirling around in.

I couldn’t even force a smile to reassure her. Nanna’s special tea hadn’t made a dent in the pain this time. It was all I could do not to bawl like a baby. This was way beyond simple soreness from dancing. Though I’d never been sick before, I was pretty sure I’d finally caught the flu, or something close to it. I had all the symptoms those flu-medicine commercials listed. When I wasn’t freezing, I was burning up. I couldn’t stop shaking. My skin felt like I had another of my annual summer sunburns everywhere my clothes touched. And my head was pounding so loud I’d missed hearing most of Mr. Chandler’s lecture. We were supposed to be working on our homework assignment now. Right, like that was going to happen. Just the idea of grabbing my book from under my desk made the bones in my arms throb. And I sucked at math even on a good day.

I shifted in my desk, and my legs bumped into Tristan’s feet. Crap. I’d forgotten. As usual, the spoiled prince of Jacksonville needed more legroom and had stretched his long legs out at either side of my desk. Turning my seat into a virtual prison, unless I didn’t mind our legs and feet touching every time I moved. Which I really did mind.

Honestly, I could shoot whoever had come up with the evil idea of alphabetical seating. It was alphabetical seating that had first forced Tristan and me to sit beside each other in the fourth grade. And placed him right behind me here in algebra this year.

I was tempted to slump down in my seat and rest my head on the back of my chair. But then my ponytail would land on Tristan’s desk. And then he might start messing with the ends of my hair again, like Anne had caught him doing a few weeks ago. He’d probably been trying to stick gum in it. His best friend from the Clann, Dylan Williams, loved to do that to girls with long hair.

Forcing myself to stay upright, I bit back a groan, propped my spinning head between my hands and checked the clock on the wall again. If I could just make it through this last class of the day …

“Are you okay?” Anne whispered, leaning forward past Tristan. “I’m serious, Sav. You really look—”

“Anne, focus on your work,” Mr. Chandler said from his desk. “Savannah, come see me please.”

I almost whimpered. He wanted me to move?

Gritting my teeth, I pulled myself to my feet, circled around the front of my desk to avoid Tristan’s legs and trudged across the room to the teacher’s desk, praying I wouldn’t barf all over the round little man.

“Anne’s right, you do look sick,” Mr. Chandler murmured. “Would you like to go visit the nurse?”

Great. So everyone thought I looked like crap today. “Um, no, thank you.” I tried not to breathe on him. Wasn’t the flu supposed to be highly contagious? “It’s the last class of the day. I can make it a little longer. Do you mind if I lay my head down on my desk, though?”

“Sure, go ahead. Just be sure to take care of the assignment as soon as you’re feeling better.”

On the way back to my desk, I wrapped my arms around myself as a sudden chill swept over my skin, making me shiver. Then I made the mistake of looking up at the clock again. And missed seeing Tristan’s outstretched leg.

I tripped hard over his foot. My arms wouldn’t budge. No way could I catch myself in time. All I could do was close my eyes and brace for a face-plant on my desk. He’d have a real good time laughing about this later with his precious Clann friends.

Instead, strong hands stopped my fall.

I pried my eyelids open, knowing even before I did who had caught me.

Tristan had half risen from his desk and grabbed my shoulders. Too tired and sick to stop myself, I got lost in emerald-green eyes that used to be as familiar as my own. Heat from his hands seeped through my shirt, melting my bones.

“Sav, are you all right?” he whispered, his eyebrows drawn together.

The nickname distracted me. He used his old nickname for me so easily, as if we were still in the fourth grade and best friends. As if he hadn’t just spent the past five years pretending he didn’t know me.

His normally full lips were thin, grim lines today. He looked … furious. For having to catch me? Or because I’d had the nerve to trip over his foot?

“Sor-ry,” I muttered, a hint of anger giving me the strength to regain my balance.

Once safely in my seat again, I laid down my head on the desk’s cold wood surface, shivering and wishing I could just die already. As if having a monster case of the flu for the first time wasn’t bad enough, now Tristan had decided to be mad at me because I’d tripped over him. Like I could help it that he was a total Sasquatch.

But I was too tired to get properly mad about it at the moment. All I wanted was to go home.

Tristan

Savannah Colbert had to be the most stubborn girl I’d ever known. I’d watched her shiver, her breathing getting faster and more out of rhythm, for over an hour now. Anyone else would’ve gone home early. But not Savannah.

I checked out her red cheeks, the way she never stopped frowning, how her body tried to curl into a ball.

If she were still my friend, I would’ve hauled her stubborn butt off to my sister’s car and driven her home myself. Never mind that I wouldn’t have a driver’s license until next year. Or that she was off-limits to everyone in the Clann, and Jacksonville was filled with gossips who watched my every freaking move and reported back to the elders within minutes of anything happening.

I silently cursed the Clann with every swearword I knew. Bunch of controlling witches. Just because my family had led those power addicts for the past four generations didn’t mean I wanted anything to do with their magic or their stupid rules. Every waking minute of the day, I had to focus on keeping my energy levels in check so I didn’t accidentally set fire to stuff. It got exhausting sometimes, constantly having to keep the power under control, when all I really wanted was to be normal and play football, hopefully for the NFL someday. But even there, magic was both a help and a pain. It helped me run faster and hit guys harder. But it also meant I had to be careful not to break necks or send guys flying too far when I slammed into them. Anybody not in the Clann would be able to just relax and enjoy the game.

Unfortunately, my parents had other plans for me that had nothing to do with football at all. They expected me to follow in my dad’s footsteps and become the next Clann leader. Because of that, I’d had to practically beg just to be allowed to play. Any other parents in East Texas would have sacrificed an arm and a leg for their kid to play high-school football.

Not to mention, because of the Clann, I’d had to stop being friends with Savannah. I still had nightmares about the way Savannah had looked at me when I’d had to tell her we couldn’t hang out together anymore. The raw hurt in her eyes that day, and every time she’d looked at me since, was all the Clann’s fault.

Someday, somehow, I would find a way to get it through my dad’s head that I would never follow in his footsteps. Then I’d be free. Free to be friends with anyone I wanted. Free to date anyone I wanted …

Clenching my jaw, I stared at Savannah’s back. Obviously she was sick. She should be seeing a doctor right now, not trying to tough it out in school. She would have passed clean out if I hadn’t caught her.

A foot kicked the side of my leg. What the …? I turned to my left to find Anne Albright glaring at me.

“Quit staring,” she hissed.

I scowled at her, hoping she’d back off and leave me alone. The last thing I needed was somebody else telling me what to do. Especially today.

I went back to staring at Savannah. Anne kicked me again, the little wench. The sting spread up the side of my calf. I bit back another curse. That better heal before practice.

“Anne, keep your feet to yourself please,” Mr. Chandler warned from his desk. “Or do I need to put you in time-out?”

Nice. I grinned.

“No, sir,” Anne muttered, sounding murderous. But at least she didn’t kick me anymore.

When the final bell rang, I jerked in my desk, my nerves strung as tight as if I were on the field at game time. Finally, Savannah could go home. Or even better, to a doctor.

Anne got up, circled around to Savannah’s desk and shook her awake. “Hey, Sav, time to go home.”

“Ungh,” Savannah groaned. She tried to stand, but her legs gave out.

I jumped to my feet without thinking it through. “Need some help?”

“Not from you, no.” Anne slung one of Savannah’s pale arms over her shoulders so she could pull her up.

“Stop, this looks ridiculous,” Savannah croaked.

“Oh, who cares, pretty princess?” Anne snapped. “Let’s go. Gotta get you to your grandma’s car now, and it’s a long walk.”

Yeah, talk about ridiculous. They would take forever to get to the parking lot, and I could carry Savannah there in about five seconds. She probably weighed all of fifty pounds. Only problem was all the witnesses we’d have. The Clann elders—especially my parents—would hear about it through the local grapevine before I could even get home from practice.

So I stood there and did nothing, grinding my teeth and feeling like a grade A jerk for letting Anne help Savannah out of the classroom all by herself. Then I saw Savannah’s backpack and books still under her desk. At least I could do this without attracting Clann attention.

The girls had made faster progress than I’d figured. They were near the parking lot by the time I caught up with them. Knowing Anne would bite my head off again if I took Savannah’s free arm to help, I stayed a few paces back.

Anne didn’t say anything to me as she guided Savannah into the passenger seat of a car waiting at the curb. “Mrs. Evans, she’s really sick,” Anne told the driver through the open passenger door. “I’m pretty sure she’s running a fever. She wasn’t feeling good at lunchtime, either, said she was tired and didn’t eat anything.”

“Hmm. Okay, thank you, Anne. I’ll get her home and fixed right up,” Savannah’s grandmother promised. I snuck a peek at her. She looked like a sweet, little old lady, her cheeks round and rosy as she smiled at Anne. Then her gaze darted over to lock onto me, and I jerked upright again. The woman had eyes like a hawk. I’d be willing to bet Savannah got away with nothing at home. That woman wouldn’t miss a thing, old or not.

“Here’s her stuff,” I told Anne, holding out Savannah’s backpack and books.

Anne’s eyes narrowed as she snatched them from me then set them in Savannah’s lap.

Savannah’s head never lifted from the seat’s headrest.

I waited until the car exited the parking lot. Then I turned and started for the field house.

“Hey!” Anne’s voice stopped me, but I didn’t face her as she caught up with me. “Why’d you do that?”

Unsure what to say, I settled for a shrug.

“You know, if you’re trying to make people think you’re nice, it usually works better to have an audience to see it.”

“Whatever.”

She muttered something that sounded like “egomaniac.” Man, Savannah had the worst taste in friends lately. I rolled my eyes and walked away.




CHAPTER 2


Tristan

I looked for Savannah at lunch the next day, even trading seats with Dylan so I could have a better view of her friends’ table. But she never showed up. Wednesday, I traded seats with Dylan again, thinking she’d have to be back by then. But she was nowhere in sight, and her seat stayed empty. She didn’t show up for algebra that afternoon, either.

Algebra had never been so boring or lasted so long.

By Friday’s lunch period, Savannah was still missing. Which didn’t exactly put me in the mood to deal with Dylan’s latest show of attitude.

“Hey, man, trade seats with me again,” I told him, keeping one eye on the cafeteria doors in case Savannah walked through.

Dylan didn’t move, staying slouched in his seat. “Why should I?”

“Because your spot’s got the better view, and I need to watch out for … something.”

Dylan smirked. “Trying to check out the chicks, huh?”

It was as good an excuse as any, and basically true. “Yeah. Now are you gonna trade or what?” I tried not to show my impatience. Otherwise he’d take twice as long to move just to mess with me.

“And what if I don’t? You gonna call Daddy and have him and the other elders spank me at the next Clann meeting?”

I glared at him. Man, he could be such a pain sometimes. It was just a chair!

He snickered. “Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a wad. I’m moving.” Slower than a resident at the local elderly home, he peeled himself out of the chair, then made a big show of bowing over it. “Your throne, Prince Tristan.” Letting out a long, slow breath, I sat down. He took his time making the four short steps around the table to my old seat. Once in it, he proceeded to sit and stare at me for the rest of the lunch break, sorely tempting me to punch him.

What was with him lately? We’d been best friends growing up. But something about starting high school this year seemed to have set him off. All year long, I’d been getting more and more attitude from him. Like he resented me because my father led the Clann or something. Or maybe it was because my family wanted me to be the next Clann leader? Except that didn’t make sense, either. Dylan knew better than anyone how much I just wanted to be normal and live my own life, not the one my parents wanted for me.

So why the sudden attitude from him all the time? Whatever. Dylan’s issues with the Clann and its leadership weren’t my problem. Right now, my problem was figuring out what was wrong with Savannah.

No way was it normal for her to miss a whole week of school. I couldn’t remember a single day when I hadn’t been able to catch at least one glimpse of her in the halls between classes. She’d always been around somewhere, just waiting to suck the air out of my lungs and hit me with that ache in my chest and gut every time I saw her. I needed information. Fast.

I waited till algebra ended, then followed Anne to the outer walkway. “Hey, Anne. Wait a minute.”

She looked over her shoulder at me, huffed, then walked away faster.

Fighting back a snarl, I jogged to close the distance. She never stopped walking even after I caught up with her. Not that it was hard to keep up with her short legs.

“Listen, I….” Okay, how should I ask for updates about someone without giving the wrong impression?

With a sigh, Anne jerked to a halt. “You know, your sense of self-entitlement really knows no end, does it?”

Huh?

She glared at me. “Right. Too many big words. Moving on. I suppose you’re trying to be nosy and ask about a certain sick person?”

Surprised she’d already guessed what I wanted, I nodded in silence.

She hesitated, as if thinking about what to say. “I’ll tell you, but you’ve gotta tell me something first.”

“Okay?”

“Why do you care?”

“Uh …” Now how was I supposed to answer that one? “Let’s get something straight, Coleman. Savannah is really nice.”

“I know.” She’d have to be to pick you for a friend, I added silently.

“So she deserves someone nice. Not a player who just sees her as some sort of challenge.”

Was that how Savannah thought of me, too … as a player? I shrugged off the question for now. “Aren’t you kind of laying it on thick here? All I’m asking is if she’s okay. Nothing more. No big deal.” I tried my smoothest smile on her, the one that even won over the dragon ladies in the front office.

“Fine. In that case …”

My heart missed a beat.

“She’s not dead.” She turned and walked away.

Something hot and furious that had been building in my chest all week exploded. I yelled to her, “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“Yep. That’s all you get, Coleman,” she yelled back without stopping or turning her head. “You want more information, go buy it from somebody else.”

Unbelievable.

It took a few seconds for me to calm down enough to see straight. When I could, I stomped off toward the main hallway and my locker. Too bad it was the off-season and we were mostly focusing on weight and cardio training. Otherwise I could have at least hit something during football practice.

In the main hall, I spotted one of Savannah’s other friends. Michelle something. She was an office aide during first period every day and was a whole lot nicer than Evil Anne.

I took a chance, leaning against the locker beside Michelle’s. I gave her a smile and hoped it worked better this time around. “Hey, Michelle, how’s it going?”

She turned pink, always a good sign, and giggled. “Fine, and you?”

“Good.” Switching strategies, I tried not to show any personal interest this time. “Listen, some of the girls at lunch were talking about your friend Savannah Colbert. They said she’s missed a lot of school this week, and they’re pretty worried about her. Sounded like they were thinking about sending her a get-well card or something. I told them I knew you and would ask how she was doing. You wouldn’t happen to have any updates I could pass along, would you?”

“Oh! That’s nice of them. I heard she’s doing okay. I’m not sure when she’s supposed to be back at school, though.”

That wasn’t the kind of news I wanted to hear. “Huh. Sounds like she caught something pretty serious, then. Did you get to talk to her?”

“No, just her grandma. You know, Mrs. Evans didn’t actually say what was wrong with Savannah, now that I think about it.” Her smile turned hesitant. “If you want, I could call them again tonight and find out more details.”

Her head tilted to the side like a bird’s as she inspected my expression. She was getting too curious. Not good. “Aw, it’s no big deal. I’m sure the girls were just a little worried about her. I’ll tell them she’s okay.” I straightened away from the lockers. “But hey, let me know if you hear any updates?”

I gave her another smile, waited till she nodded in agreement, then I walked off with what I hoped was a casual wave.

Why did I feel even more worried now?

Savannah

Fire and ice. They were my entire world for days. That and weird conversations I overheard between Mom and Nanna. Or maybe they were dreams.

“Sav’s never been sick like this. Never,” Mom whispered sometime during the first night. “Should we take her—”

“Take her where, Joan? If they do blood tests …” Nanna murmured.

“Oh, Lord, you’re right. No telling what they might find. And we can’t call the Clann’s doctor, either. He’d tell the Clann, and that’s the last kind of trouble we need. So … what do we do?”

“I don’t know. Everything I try makes her fever shoot up higher. It shouldn’t do that. I’ve gone through all the books, read everything twice. But she’s too special. There just isn’t anything about her. There never has been. We’ve always been so lucky with her. She’s never been sick in a way I couldn’t fix.”

“Are you giving up?” Mom’s voice rose to a near shriek on the last word.

“Shh, no, of course not! But maybe you should call her father. Maybe his kind would know what to do.”

His kind? Nanna must really hate Dad.

A long silence made me wonder if I’d fallen asleep. Then Mom finally replied in an odd tone that made her sound even more worried than before. “Are you sure we should involve them? If we ask for their advice, they may think things are out of control. They might want to get really involved from now on.”

“We’ll have to take that risk, Joan. It’s ask for their help or nothing else.”

Nothing else? What did that mean? Why did Nanna make those two simple words sound so scary?

I thought I heard Mom murmuring to someone, but Nanna didn’t reply. Maybe Mom was talking with Dad on the phone?

“Okay, we’ll try it.” Mom paused, and the cordless phone beeped as she ended the call. “Mom, he says we should try removing all our influence from her.”

“All of it? Even the protective … “

“Yes. He says it sounds like a conflict between the two sides within her.”

“But—”

“We have to try it. It was the only solution he could think of. And … he’s coming to have the talk with her.”

“No. No, you said she never needed to know. He said she could have a normal life!”

“She’s changing, Mom. And we can’t stop it anymore. She needs to know. But that’s only if … if this works.”

“You mean … there won’t be any need if …”

Silence.

If what?

And then my body answered me, the pain sharpening until there was nothing but the pain. Death. It felt like I was dying the worst possible death imaginable, like being burned alive then drowned in arctic water seconds later.

Hands of fire touched my throat, a horrible contrast to the block of ice my body had become. Something slipped from my neck, and the heated fingers went away. Then I threw up, my stomach emptying itself over and over into a metal bowl Mom held for me, until nothing was left, and still the heaving didn’t end.

And then I slept. Hours, days, I had no idea how long. While I slept, I dreamed of Tristan.



When I woke up, three faces peered down at me. Mom, Nanna … and Dad.

Please don’t let me have talked in my sleep. If I’d said Tristan’s name out loud …

But then I relaxed. Crazy, to feel guilty over a dream I couldn’t control. Even if I had said his name aloud in my sleep, just because I’d promised to stay away from Tristan and the other Clann kids ever since the fourth grade didn’t mean I would get into trouble for dreaming about him now.

Still, I must have messed up somehow to have earned a visit from Dad. The only times he ever came to see me were for my birthday in October and once during the summer. And even then we only met for dinner at our favorite local restaurant, where we both pretended to eat in spite of the awkwardness between us, and he pretended to care about my life. He hadn’t come to Nanna’s house since the Christmas when I was seven, and he and Mom got into an argument that ended with her throwing plates and ice-cube trays at him.

Nanna leaned forward to touch my forehead and cheeks for signs of a lingering fever. “Hey, hon, how are you feeling?”

I tried to swallow. My throat was raw, as if someone had rubbed sandpaper down it. “Thirsty,” I managed to whisper.

Mom handed me a glass of water. I moved to sit up, but my aching lower abdomen made me freeze and moan. It felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to my stomach. “Did someone beat me up?”

Mom laughed, but it sounded weak. “Not quite.”

I settled for lifting only my head so I could sip some water to ease my throat. When I had finished, I said, “What happened to me?”

All three of them shared glances with one another. Talk about übercreepy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even seen them all in the same room together, much less doing that annoying wordless-communication thing with their eyes that all adults seemed to love to do.

“Michael, you should tell her now,” Mom said, moving to sit at the end of the bed by my feet.

With a curt nod, Dad clasped his hands in front of him as if he were a preacher about to speak at a funeral. He couldn’t have been here long. Dressed in his usual dark blue suit, he looked like he always did … immaculate, not a wrinkle in sight, not a single strand of wavy black hair out of place. He stared down at me with the same eyes as mine. Unfortunately, his had always been better at hiding his emotions, staying an icy gray no matter what. Mine had an annoying habit of turning colors depending on my mood, making it impossible for me to hide anything.

“Savannah, there are certain things you need to know about yourself,” he began.

“Because I was sick for a day or two?”

“Try five,” Nanna said.

I was sick for five days? “That was some flu.”

“You did not have the flu,” he said. “You are changing.”

“Changing. Meaning …?”

“I am a vampire. And your mother is a witch, along with your grandmother. This makes you a rarity in both our worlds, because my species of vampires are not supposed to be able to procreate—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Did you just say you’re a … a vampire? Do you mean like the role-playing kind, where you get dressed up with plastic fangs and go to weird parties?” Was this some kind of twisted, late April Fools’ joke?

Nanna moved to sit on the bed at my hip. She wrapped her warm, papery hands around mine. “Savannah, honey, I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Your father is a vampire. A special kind, called an incubus.”

“A demon?” I gasped, finding I could still breathe, after all. I’d heard about the incubi, read something about them on the internet or in church. But my mind was way too foggy to remember the details. All my thoughts kept circling around the same thing … Dad was claiming that he was a demon vampire. A real demon vampire. Which didn’t even exist. And my mother and grandmother were supposed to be witches. But that was impossible. They both went to church. Nanna even played the church piano every Sunday morning. Shouldn’t they burst into flames as soon as they set foot on holy ground or something?

“Not quite a demon,” Mom said. “At least not full-blooded. He’s from a line of vampires that mixed with demons a long time ago.”

Oh, that made it all better.

Nanna added, “This gives them the ability to get energy two ways … through the traditional methods—”

“Blood. You’re saying you … you drink blood?” I gulped, looking at Dad.

He nodded. “We can also take energy through a kiss.”

“Energy from a kiss.” My voice came out flat.

They were all nuts.

I slid my hand free of Nanna’s and flipped the comforter off my legs. “Okay. Um, I … I would really like a shower now.”

Mom frowned. “Sweetie, don’t you have any questions?”

“What’s to ask? Dad’s some funky kind of vampire that’s part demon and drinks blood, and you two do magic. And now you think I will, too, right? Because I’m … what did you say? Changing?”

The carpet was cold beneath my feet as I stood up on wobbly legs. My weak body demanded I get back in bed. But no way was I staying here in the loony room. I had no idea what kind of joke they were trying to play, or if I was just hallucinating from lack of food. If this was a dream, the shower ought to wake me up pretty quick. On a whim, I pinched my forearm. “Ow!” Huh. That really hurt.

Dad grabbed my shoulders, his hands ice cold as usual.

Distracted, I frowned down at his hands. Ice-cold hands …

“Savannah, stop this right now,” he said. “We are trying to have a serious conversation with you. You are not asleep. You are perfectly awake and lucid. And you need to learn what you are, and what you may become, before anyone gets hurt. There are certain … symptoms you will need to watch out for now.”

The first glimmer of anger flared up in my stomach. Ordinarily I was careful about what I said to him, always trying so hard to be what he wanted, to say the right thing so he would be proud of me, love me. But I was too tired and freaked out right now to try and be perfect. And I’d had more than enough of this family prank.

“Dad, you can stop worrying. There’s no way I’m gonna be jumping on anyone or sending things flying Carrie-style at school….” A sudden memory flashed through my mind of that Christmas when Mom sent plates and other objects flying at him. Weird. I couldn’t remember the plates actually leaving her hands now. Goose bumps raced over my skin.

“Well, of course you won’t turn into Carrie.” Mom laughed. “Because we won’t be teaching you magic.”

“It is the bloodlust we are more concerned about,” Dad said. “And if you do not learn to control it, you very well might end up jumping on people at school.”

Giving in to the insanity for a second, I huffed out a short sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ve got a question for you. Why now? I mean, let’s pretend y’all are serious, you’re not messing with me here, and I’m not hallucinating. If you’re truly vamps and witches, then why tell me now and not before?”

“Because we couldn’t wait any longer,” Mom said, rising to her feet and taking my hand. “We wanted you to have a normal life for as long as possible. But when the teas stopped working and we couldn’t prevent your first monthly cycle any longer—”

“Oh, ew!” Dad was right there! Then I realized what she’d said and frowned. “Wait. Did you just say you gave me tea to … prevent … that?”

Nanna nodded. “We gave you a special tea every day that delayed your puberty.”

“Until I was fifteen?” Horror made me shriek. All my friends had had their periods since they were twelve and thirteen. All this time I’d been feeling like a freak of nature because I was such a late bloomer. “Why would you do that to me?”

“Because puberty’s done exactly what we feared,” Nanna snapped. “It’s triggered your dormant genes. Now they’re all waking up, and heaven only knows what’s going to happen next. And watch your tone, missy—we’re still your parents.”

Reaching behind me, I felt for the bed then sank onto the edge of it before my knees could give out.

“Hon, I know it’s a lot to absorb all at once,” Mom said. “I swear, if we could have avoided telling you, we would have. We were so hoping you wouldn’t take after either side and would be … well, normal. But it’s just too dangerous now for you not to know. Your being sick for a whole week is a strong sign that one or both sides might begin to kick in. Which means you could start developing any number of abilities or impulses. If and when you do, we all need to be ready so we can help you learn to control them.”

Impulses. Abilities. What was I, some sort of wild animal about to go out of control?

Mom sat down beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “You could try to think of it as if you were learning you have just an ordinary hereditary illness. Your parents’ genes have predisposed you toward developing certain … issues in life. But they might or might not affect your daily life. We just have to all be prepared in case they do.”

“You mean, in case I start to develop a taste for blood?” I couldn’t believe I was even saying this.

Dad’s nod made it even more surreal. “You could begin to crave human blood. Your gaze might begin to have adverse effects on others when you look at them. Heightened reflexes, physical speed and mental processes are all possible. And then, of course, there is the possibility of fangs.”

Fangs. O. M. Freakin’ G. He sounded like one of those drug-commercial announcers rattling off possible side effects.

“Or strange things may start to happen when you get upset,” Mom added. “Like … “

“Like flying plates,” Nanna said, a hint of a snicker in her voice. As if any of this were funny.

Mom glared at her. “That wasn’t an accident. Now if I’d set the kitchen on fire …”

And that’s when I realized they were serious about this. This wasn’t a prank, and unless I woke up soon, I wasn’t dreaming, either.

Which meant … I was half vampire, half witch. And all freak. Just like the Brat Twins had been saying for years. Oh, crap. “The Clann. Do they all know …?” I remembered the way the Brat Twins called me “freak” all the time and seemed scared of me sometimes…. They definitely knew. Did Tristan know, too?

“The adults know. The kids don’t,” Mom said. “At least, the elders swore they wouldn’t tell the younger descendants after they cast us out. Only the adult descendants were supposed to be warned.”

Nanna grunted. “Now, whether the elders actually kept that promise …”

“Why do the adults know about me? And what do you mean, cast out?”

It was Nanna and Mom’s turn to look confused. Mom was the one to answer. “We thought you’d figured that part out already. Our family used to be in the Clann, too. Magic is what ties all of Jacksonville’s founding families together in the first place. I’m sure you must have heard at least a rumor or two about it.”

Jacksonville’s gossip grapevine had it right, then. “So the Clann are all witches. Like a coven.”

Mom and Nanna both nodded.

“But … we go to church,” I argued, trying to wrap my mind around the idea that the Brat Twins were witches in more than just a figurative way. Not to mention Tristan.

Holy heck. Tristan was a witch.

“Magic isn’t a religion for us like it is for Wiccans,” Nanna said. “Most of the Clann’s descendants are Christians who just happen to be gifted with the ability to do magic. It’s genetics, not a lifestyle choice.”

Yeah, and I was sure everyone here in the Bible Belt of East Texas would really understand that distinction.

When I could make my brain work again, another thought hit me. “Wait. Dad, if you’re a vampire, how can you go out in the daylight? And what about garlic, and holy water, and—”

“Vampires are like any other species, Savannah. We have evolved over the years. Sunlight no longer hurts us. Garlic and holy items never did—that was just religious propaganda. We all started out as humans with souls. Only our bodies have been changed by the hybrid vampire blood.”

I pressed a shaking hand to my forehead, which was pounding out a rhythm I couldn’t keep up with. “Okay. So you’re saying I might, or might not, start turning into an even bigger freak.”

“Stop saying that word,” Mom grumbled. “The proper term is dhampir.”

“So there are others like me?”

“No,” Dad answered. “Until your birth, dhampirs were a myth among our kind. We did not believe our race of vampires could procreate because of the demon mix in our origin’s lineage. And no vampire in our society has ever consorted with a human long enough for a baby to be created.”

“Because …?”

Mom cleared her throat. “Well, hon, because vampires don’t usually have that kind of self-control. They tend to either turn their human lovers or …” The look on her face finished her sentence.

Or kill them. I snuck a peek at Dad. He appeared as emotionless as ever.

“But you didn’t,” I said to him. “Why?”

Nanna smiled. “Because I made a charm for your mother that dampened his bloodlust when he was around her.”

“So you were actually okay with their being together?” I realized after the words were out how rude they sounded. Too late to take it back now.

Nanna shrugged. “Your mother’s always been hardheaded. It was either make a charm to ensure he didn’t kill her, or lock her up in a vault somewhere.”

“Okay. So then you can make a charm for me, too, right? Something that’ll prevent all those … those symptoms Dad listed?” Something that would keep me nice and normal and human. No blood drinking, no flying plates.

“Well, I could, but—”

“But that would be unwise,” Dad cut in. “It would be similar to giving morphine to a patient who has yet to be diagnosed. Charms would mask the appearance of any symptoms. We need to see what abilities develop within you. Then we will teach you how to control them yourself. Without magic.”

“So I’m supposed to … to just deal with it?”

“I know this is very difficult for you,” Mom said. “But I promise we’re all here for you, and we’re going to help you through this. And hey, it might not be a big deal, after all. You could just as easily not develop any abilities at all, or take after the Evans side and have only the magical blood within you. We’re going to take it one day at a time, and we’ll work through it as a team.”

A team. As if there was any “we” in this. There wasn’t. This was me we were talking about, not them; my life, not theirs, that might go insane at any moment. My life that had been one long series of lies and crazy family secrets.

“The important thing is for you to communicate openly with us,” Dad said. “If you begin to experience strange urges or abilities, you must let us know at once. I will also be calling you once a week to check in with you.”

Huh, right. I should just tell them every detail about my life. Like they did for me, keeping so many secrets from me for fifteen years.

“You must also stay away from all members of the Clann,” Dad warned. “Especially their leading family, the Colemans.”

“Uh, not that I’m exactly friends with any of them anyways, but … why?”

“The Clann’s powerful blood calls to vampires stronger than any other humans’,” he said. “The more powerful they are, the more attractive they appear to a vampire. Since the Colemans have been their most powerful family for the last four generations, it is reasonable to assume that they will tempt your vampire side first and more than any others in their circle. Also, there is no way of knowing if all of the Clann parents are aware of your … situation and adequately protecting their children with charms. They have assured us that they have many of their descendants watching you on campus at all times—I believe several of them are teachers. But even still, if your vampire side does develop and one of them is not protected, you could begin to experience the bloodlust around them. Especially if one of them is injured around you. Then even a charm might not help.”

Oh. Of course. So that was why I always felt so weird around Tristan. Because he was a Coleman, and I was a …

No. I refused to even think of myself as that word. Not yet. Not until I had to.

And then another thought hit me. Sweet Lord. No wonder the Clann kids all deserted me in the fourth grade. Their parents had probably warned them to avoid me like the plague. Because they were afraid I might try to kill their kids. Which meant Tristan must at least know I wasn’t normal. But how much did he know?

I clamped my lips shut so I wouldn’t say something that would give away my thoughts and get me into trouble. But inside, my stomach burned and rolled.

Mom patted my shoulder. “All right, hon, why don’t you go take that shower you wanted, while your Nanna and I make you something to eat? And later when you have questions, we’ll be happy to answer them.”

“Joan, I must go.” Something dark edged at Dad’s tone.

Mom must have noticed it, too; she jumped to her feet. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“What now?” I demanded, more than fed up with the secrecy. “Whatever it is, don’t hide it.”

“I must report to the vampire council, and your mother is probably wondering if they will send watchers to Jacksonville to mark your changes,” Dad said.

Mom nodded, her hand tightening on my shoulder, though I didn’t think she realized it.

“Watchers?” Council? Good Lord, it was never ending. What else didn’t I know about my family, about myself, about the world I lived in?

“I do not think it is anything to worry about just yet,” Dad reassured us both. “Especially if you follow the rules and stay away from the Clann’s descendants.”

As long as I stayed away from Tristan. Who wouldn’t speak to me anyway.

Dad leaned down to kiss my forehead with icy lips I’d never thought to question before and a whisper of cold breath. Vampire lips. Breath as cold as death. And I might end up just like him. I suppressed a shudder. Then Mom walked with him out of the room while Nanna headed for the kitchen. A few seconds later, I heard the front door open and shut, followed by the revving of an engine in the front yard as my father left.

My vampire father.

Holy crap.




CHAPTER 3


Savannah

I took the longest shower our hot-water heater would allow, spending more time trying to wrap my mind around this strange new reality than I spent washing myself. Part of me still clung to the hope that it was all just a case of my imagination going berserk. But everything was too real … the slippery porcelain beneath my feet, the cold, wet tile wall holding me up, the hot water burning its way over my skin. And it wasn’t just anyone telling wild stories here. All this stuff about demons and vampires and witches was coming from my entire family, the three people I loved and trusted more than anyone else in the world.

When the water ran cold, I got out, dried off, then studied my reflection in the mirror. Was it because I was freaked out, or did I really look … different? My eyes seemed bigger, my cheekbones more pronounced. My upper incisors might’ve become a little pointier than they’d already been. I was definitely paler, but who wouldn’t be after being sick? And my hair seemed thicker and darker, less orange, more auburn. My imagination, too? Maybe.

I wondered if Tristan would notice, then banished that thought. He was in the Clann. Worse, he was the son of the Clann’s leading family.

And I had to avoid him at all cost.

“Mom?”

A few seconds later, as if she’d been nearby listening for me, she opened the door a few inches and poked her head in.

“Yes?”

“Why aren’t we in the Clann anymore?”

“Well, they weren’t too thrilled when I broke the rules and married your father. And when your Nanna didn’t try to stop us, they kicked her out, too. It’s a real no-no for vampires and witches to get involved with each other.”

“Because vampires tend to kill witches.” I sighed.

“They did before the truce. At one point, before even your grandmother’s time, it was an all-out war between them. But now they’ve agreed to avoid each other as much as possible. Which is why no vampires live around here, including your father. This is Clann territory. And vampires have reason to fear descendants, too, since they can of course kill vampires much easier than normal humans can.”

At my confused look, she explained, “Fire. Vampires can be killed by fire. Or decapitation or a stake through the heart, but those methods require a weapon. Witches, real ones, can produce fire in the palm of their hand.” She held out her hand palm up, concentrated … and a tiny ball of orange flame burst to life in her hand. At the same time, faint prickles raced over the back of my neck and down my arms.

My brain blanked out for several seconds. Then my heart lurched back into gear. Hoooly crap, she wasn’t kidding. She really could do magic! Reaching toward the flame, I opened my mouth to ask when I would get to learn that.

“Oh, no.” She snapped her hand closed, extinguishing the fire with a sizzle. “Don’t even ask, because the answer is no. Creating fire is too dangerous for you, in case your vampire genes make it hard for you to control the flame. And you’re not learning any other magic, either.”

“Why not?” I tried hard not to whine. But honestly, what was the point of learning all of this stuff if I couldn’t even do real magic someday?

“Because both the Clann and the vampire council made your Nanna and I swear that we would never teach you how to do magic. It was the only way I could get to raise you and we could stay in Jacksonville.”

“I can’t ever learn to do magic?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, hon, not unless the Clann and the vampire council both change their minds.”

“What if my magical side starts developing, like you said? Will I just start shooting out magic spells or something?”

She laughed. “Not likely, since it takes both your willpower and certain spell words for beginner witches to cast a spell. Magic is like a muscle for most descendants. If you never use it, like I haven’t for a while, it atrophies and is harder to use. If you practice, you get stronger and it’s easier to do. We’re hoping if you never do magic, the ability will simply go away for you. Or at least be very hard to do accidentally.”

Disappointed, I frowned down at the sink. This really sucked. Nanna was always telling me to focus on the good in every situation. But there seemed to be absolutely nothing positive about my life right now.

After a slight hesitation, Mom came the rest of the way into the bathroom and leaned against the edge of the sink’s counter. “Look, Savannah, I know it’s hard, but try to see things from everyone else’s point of view, too. You are special, incredibly so. Other than in myths, you’re the first dhampir in proven existence from your father’s line, the first real live half vampire, half human.”

“You mean half witch,” I muttered, aiming for sarcasm. Which she ignored.

“Right. Until you, no one thought vampires from your father’s line could even get a human pregnant. Then your father and I broke the rules, I got pregnant, and we got married.”

“Wait. You got pregnant then got married?”

She gave a sheepish grin. “Yeah, you know, sometimes it works that way. But it was worth it. Even when our marriage meant your father lost his seat on the council—”

“Because of me?”

She winced. “Not quite. More a combination of factors … like drinking Clann blood to block his thoughts from the council so he could break their rules, marry a human and have a baby.”

But they only got married after they found out they were going to have me. So didn’t that still make it my fault that Dad was kicked off the council?

“Anyways,” she continued, “when you actually made it to full term then survived the first year of life, everyone on both sides of the equation went nuts. The vampire council thinks you’re going to be some sort of secret weapon for the Clann if you develop magical skills. And the Clann is afraid you’ll either go fully vampire and try to eat them all or use magic against them.” She laughed.

I couldn’t breathe.

Her smile faded. “Oh, sorry, baby. Your father and I spent years joking about everyone’s crazy fears. They’re all ridiculously paranoid, on both sides of the line. Before your birth, they actually thought he and I had teamed up to rid the world of both the Clann and all the vampires! Bunch of fruitcakes. But I guess it’s not that funny to you at first.”

I let a glare be my answer. Inside, I was shaking again. Just when I thought I was starting to get a grip on all of this … now I was both a career ender for Dad and some sort of a ticking time bomb? No wonder I was such a disappointment to him.

“That’s why the Brat Twins call me a freak. Why did you even keep me?” I muttered then clamped my lips shut. I so had not meant to say that out loud.

She gripped my shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze. “Savannah, from the moment I found out I was pregnant with you, you have been nothing short of a miracle. Do you understand? A miracle. Not strange, not scary, not a freak and certainly not a threat to anyone. You’ve always been a sweet, precious miracle born out of love.”

A love that had lasted all of three years. “So if I was such a miracle, and you two were so in love you just had to break all the rules to be together … why’d you get divorced?”

She bit her lower lip, hesitating for a long time before sighing. “A lot of factors, I guess. Mostly, it was my fault. I was young, far too young to handle it all. And too young to really know what love was. I thought I was in love with your father. But now I know I was more in love with the idea of being with a vampire and breaking the rules. We were like Bonnie and Clyde, modern-day rebels running from our worlds’ laws, hiding out on the lam.” She grinned. “It was a lot of fun. Until we had a baby who needed safety and security. Then suddenly being on the run wasn’t so much fun anymore. When I realized I was responsible for your life and protecting you, it just didn’t make sense anymore to be with your father. The council and the Clann both agreed you and I could live with your grandmother as long as I ended my marriage. And while I still loved your father, I wasn’t in love with him anymore.

Loving your father was an adventure and a selfish fantasy, and it was great while it lasted. But having you made me realize I needed to wake up, grow up and think about others for a change.”

“Let me get this straight. You broke up with Dad for me?”

“Not just for you. For peace between the Clann and the vampires, too. Both groups have members all over the world. If your father and I had stayed together, worldwide war could have broken out again between them. A lot of people would have died, and that would have been my fault. And I didn’t love your father enough anymore for it to be worth that.”

“But why come back to Jacksonville? Why not raise me somewhere else? Someplace where there weren’t as many Clann around?”

She smiled and shrugged. “Because Jacksonville has always been my home. And besides, I needed your grandma’s help to raise you. Dhampir babies don’t exactly come with a handbook, you know.”

I managed a smile for her, but it faded fast. “Except, now I have to go to school with kids who seem to know what I am. And call me freak every day.”

Mom hugged me. “I know it’s hard, hon. But you’ve got to learn how to live your own life and don’t worry about what the Clann thinks, or what the vampire council thinks, or what anybody says about you. None of this changes who you are inside. That’s only up to you and what you choose. And even though this is all a shock, and maybe things in your life might start to change a little here and there, I promise you’re going to be okay. As long as you follow the rules, that is.”

Which was to stay away from the Clann. Yeah, I got it already. Except … “Mom, you and Nanna used to be in the Clann, too. What if I—”

“Don’t worry. Like you teens love to say … we’ve got skills.”

She gave a lopsided grin. “Or at least your Nanna does. All I ever learned how to do was throw stuff and make fire. And even that was only because your Nanna absolutely insisted on it for minimal protection.”

“Why didn’t you want to learn how to do magic?”

“Hon, you live in the post–Harry Potter world, where you teens think magic is awesome. I lived in the pre–Harry Potter times. I was witchy when witchy wasn’t cool.”

Huh. “What about the Clann kids at school? Dad said to avoid them, but how can I when I’ve got classes with them, have to pass them in the halls, eat with them in the cafeteria?”

“You should be okay at a distance. Like your father said, they’ve probably got charms on them to dull their attraction to any vampire. And even if you do start to feel the bloodlust at some point, if you keep your distance and pay attention to your body, you’ll know if it becomes a problem. If it does, you call me or Nanna or your father immediately and go to the nurse’s station till one of us gets there. Okay?”

I thought of how close Tristan sat behind me in algebra, and the pain in my chest and stomach that hit me every time he was near. Keeping my distance might be a problem. I’d just have to try to sort out my usual confused feelings around him from anything new that might come up. Like a sudden attraction to his neck.

“Why is the Clann even letting us stay here? Wouldn’t they want me as far away from them and their kids as possible?”

Her smile turned sad. “You know that saying ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’? I think it’s like that. They don’t want you to get too close or spend time alone with any of their descendants. But they also want to be able to keep an eye on you. Plus there’s the chance that one day you might decide to … help them out.”

“Help them out?”

“You know. Be on their side if there’s ever another war with the vampires.”

The Clann thought I would side with them against my own father? I snorted. They must be insane. After the way the Clann kids had treated me and my family for the past five years …

Well, not all of them had bullied me all the time. A memory flashed through my mind of emerald eyes staring back at me. Of strong, warm hands on my shoulders, stopping me from falling in algebra class, when he could have just let me do a face-plant onto my desk.

“I guess it’s a good thing I don’t want to date anyone in the Clann anyways, huh?”

Laughing, Mom picked up a hairbrush and began to tug it through my tangled hair, ignoring my facial expression each time she found a new snag. “Uh, yeah. Dating someone from the Clann could start another war. Lordy, I can see it now. The Clann would think you were stalking one of their own to drain them. The vamps would think you were siding with the Clann. It’d be mass chaos in no time.” She shook her head and grinned. “But we don’t have to worry about that, right? You’ve hated the Clann’s kids for years now.”

I forced a weak chuckle and took the brush away from her before she could accidentally brush me bald. “Yeah. Right. They’re first-class jerks.”

“Any other questions?” Her tone had turned bright and cheerful, like she had simply been helping me with my homework or something.

I shook my head and tried to remember how to breathe normally past the lump in my throat. Why couldn’t I just go back to my life of a week ago, back when things weren’t perfect, but at least they were normal?

“Aw, honey.” She patted my shoulder. “Please stop worrying. You’re going to be okay.”

“How do you know I’ll be okay? What if—”

“Because you come from my side of the family, too. And we Evans women are strong. With or without magic, we know how to kick butt in life.”

“And throw a mean plate?” I managed to joke.

She laughed. “Exactly. And speaking of which, aren’t you starving by now? Your Nanna made her special fried chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy just the way you like them.”

I made my lips curve into a smile. “Sure, sounds great.” Why wouldn’t I be hungry? After all, just because normal life as I’d known it was over, that shouldn’t affect my appetite, right?



I didn’t want to talk to anyone for the rest of the weekend. But Nanna said that my friends had been calling for me all week. So I made myself call Anne later that evening.

After chatting for a few minutes, I thought I’d better warn her about the changes in my appearance. But when I tried to describe how different I looked, she just laughed.

“Don’t worry about it, Sav. Every year I get the flu for a few days, and afterward I swear my head looks way too big for my body. Anyways, if you want to start coming early to school next week, I could help you get caught up on all the algebra homework you missed.”

“Mmm, good idea.” I hesitated, curious to know if anyone else had missed me while I was gone, one boy in particular. But I couldn’t find a casual way to ask and not make a big deal out of it. And why would anyone other than my friends have missed me? So I gave up and said goodbye instead.

When I called Carrie and Michelle, I didn’t mention the changes in my appearance. For all I knew, I was the only one who would notice them.



But when I returned to school Monday morning, too late to meet Anne at the picnic tables for tutoring, I felt more like a freak than ever. While some of the changes in my appearance might be my imagination, the bigger chest size definitely wasn’t. I’d gone up a full cup and a half. Mom and I had been forced to do emergency shirt and bra shopping yesterday so I’d have something to wear to school that didn’t scream slut.

Still, even with the bigger shirts, I felt conspicuous in the main hall before first period. So I made sure to carry my notebook against my chest. The freshmen boys weren’t exactly kind in their comments toward the curvier girls in our grade, and I so didn’t need more hall harassment in my life right now.

Unfortunately, even my notebook couldn’t block what happened next.

“O. M. G. Worst boob job ever!” Vanessa called out to me, laughing as she and her sister passed by, their voices somehow loud enough to carry over the noise of the hall even though they didn’t sound like they were actually yelling. Magically amplified? I wouldn’t doubt it. They would want everyone to be sure to hear them torture me.

And then I felt it. It was like a poisonous gas spreading over my skin, seeping past my shirt to make my skin crawl. And alien … whatever it was, the sensation definitely wasn’t coming from me.

What the heck was it? Nobody had warned me about this.

It had to be either magic- or vampire-based. Or had the Brat Twins hit me with a spell just now? I would have to call Mom as soon as I could find a restroom where I could talk in private.

I kept walking, forcing my hands to be still when all I wanted to do was scrub the vile sensation from my skin. I tried to think about something else, anything at all.

But then I had to refocus on the weird sensation, because it was changing now. In fact, the farther away I got from the Brat Twins, the more the sinister feeling of evil intentions faded away. Now it was more a mixture of stuff I couldn’t sort out. Kind of like cobwebs made of worry, happiness, sadness and fear all twisted together. Maybe I was going insane from learning too much crazy crap about my family and myself this weekend.

Unless … somehow I could sense others’ emotions now?

Oh, Lord. When I concentrated, it grew worse, until I could feel each person’s mood as they passed me. Experimenting, I matched up what I felt with each person’s facial expression and overheard bits of conversations, and was able to piece clues together. Happiness nearly made me laugh from its tickling sensation. Worry was heavy and cold, an ice chunk sliding down my skin. Love was warmth and softness, heated cotton balls. Anger, a knife that slashed and ripped across my skin.

I managed to make it the hundred yards to my locker, then closed my eyes and tried to think about something else. Anything else to make the overwhelming mix of emotions go away. Something soothing. Something …

Tristan’s eyes staring down at me. The sound of his voice, low and husky, whispering my nickname, asking me if I was okay. His hands on my shoulders, warming me through my shirt in algebra class.

After a few minutes, the sensations of others’ emotions faded away. My shoulders, which had scrunched up near my ears, eased back down, and I could breathe deeply again.

Okay. So now I could sense others’ emotions. It wasn’t an ideal development, and I definitely could have used a little warning. But at least I could control it if I stayed calm. Was it magic- or vampire-based?

It had to be magic-based, some sort of natural Clann ESP ability, right? Which meant no cause for alarm, no vampire abilities developing here. It wasn’t exactly normal. But maybe all the descendants could do this and just didn’t show it. Even Tristan.

Oh, crap. Could they read my emotions around him? Could he tell—?

Face burning, I cut off that thought and headed away from my locker, debating whether to call my parents or Nanna and let them know about this new development. Then again, why should I? They’d wanted me to tell them about new developments so they could help me deal with them. But I’d handled this one on my own. All I had to do to control it and block out everyone’s emotions was to stay calm. There was no need for the rescue squad. Yet.

Okay, so no phone call to the family. But maybe I should go ahead and grab my entire day’s collection of books so I wouldn’t have to return to the main hall later. Just to be safe.



“Go, Savannah!” Captain Kristi, leader of the Charmers dance team and the assistant teacher for my pre-drill class, whooped as she ran over to give me a high five, hundreds of tiny black braids bouncing wildly around her head with her every step.

I couldn’t even feel her palm slap mine. I was too much in shock. A triple pirouette. When I couldn’t even do a proper single a week ago. It was an honest-to-goodness miracle.

At the end of pre-drill class, I floated downstairs, feeling like one of those Mylar balloons, all light and shiny, while I got dressed then walked over to the cafeteria for lunch. No doubt my cheeks would hurt tomorrow from the force of my smile. But I couldn’t stop myself. Today, for the first time ever, I had been every bit as good as the experienced dancers in my class. Not only had I succeeded in performing a triple pirouette, but I’d also finally gone all the way down to the floor in my splits, and my split leaps had all landed without a single thud or shake of the room. Still better, my wimpy high kicks, once only up to chest level, had nearly hit me in the face today. And hadn’t hit anyone else for a change. Even the experienced dancers in the class had seemed impressed by my improvement. And now that I wasn’t such a failure at it, dancing was fun!

This freak had finally learned some dance skills, maybe even good enough to make the Charmers dance team next month, if I was crazy enough to audition. Ha! Let the Clann sense these emotions!

“Hey, girls,” I greeted my friends as I dropped my backpack at our table in the cafeteria. I glanced at them, my face stuck in a broad grin. “Let me grab some food and I’ll be right back to hear what I missed last week.”

No one replied, but I didn’t give them much time to before I hurried to join the food line. The lunchroom was packed as usual, but apparently sensing others’ emotions only happened when I was upset, because I felt nothing now except my own pure joy. Which only made me happier.

Finally, I’d managed not to be a total klutz at something! Maybe I should try out for the Charmers. Making the dance team was pretty much an instant passport to popularity in Jacksonville, or at least a huge social upgrade. And getting to dance all the time would be a total blast.

Lost in thought, I didn’t realize at first that the boy directly ahead of me in the slow-moving line was smiling at me. Surprised, I smiled back, though I didn’t recognize him, then blushed and looked down.

“Hi, I’m Greg Stanwick.” He grabbed a mint-green tray from the stack then offered me one, as well.

“Oh, hey. I’m Savannah.” I hadn’t planned on getting the lunch of the day since I usually had pizza or chili cheese fries instead. Then again, maybe I should eat something healthy for a change and reward my body for all its amazing improvements in pre-drill. “Um, thanks.”

Greg seemed to take that as encouragement. “So, what grade are you in?”

“Ninth.”

“Eleventh for me. Hey, do you ever go to the soccer games?”

I shook my head.

“Well, you should really think about seeing some. We’ve got a killer team this year. Four-time champions. I should know, I’m on the varsity team.” His smile was a few watts too bright, reminding me of a game-show host. And he was only a few inches taller than me, putting him somewhere around five-nine or -ten. But overall he was kind of hot, with short black hair and soft brown eyes that reflected warmth from his smile.

I realized Greg was still talking and tried to look interested as he chatted about his soccer team and all the ways they were training hard for another winning season.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again,” he said as we paid for our food.

“Um, sure. Nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you, too, Savannah.” But he didn’t turn away. Instead, he stood there watching me. I could feel his gaze on me as I returned to my table.

Okay, that was weird but sort of nice. Guys never paid any attention to me. Maybe it was the bigger boob size?

I set down my tray and sat.

Suddenly, I felt someone standing next to me.

I looked up and found Greg grinning down at me.

“Hey,” he said. “I forgot to mention, we’ve got a home game this Friday, if you want to come watch. It’ll start at six at the Tomato Bowl.”

Total silence, not only at our table, but at all the surrounding tables, too, made my cheeks burn. The unwanted attention had to be because of Greg, because I wasn’t exactly on anyone’s social radar around here.

I blinked a few times and struggled to think of a reply. Then I remembered. “Um, that sounds like fun. But I have a dance recital that night. So … maybe next time?”

Greg looked away for a moment. At the same time, goose bumps and a prickling sensation raced up my arms and across the back of my neck. Someone must have cranked up the air-conditioning or something. Shivering, I rubbed my arms.

When Greg looked back down at me, his smile wasn’t quite as blinding. “Yeah, sure. Next time.” Then he walked away.

I cringed, hoping I hadn’t hurt his feelings. Though why he’d care if I came to one of his games or not was beyond me.

I glanced at my friends and grinned. Their shocked expressions matched how I felt. “Did that just happen?” I asked, a short laugh slipping out.

Silence at our table, even as the other nearby tables recovered.

In the continuing silence from my friends, I leaned forward and looked more closely at them. “Um, hello? Anyone care to comment on that?”

Yeesh. Yes, it was true that boys never talked to me, and definitely none had ever made a point to come up to me during lunch. But my friends were acting like he’d also jumped up on the table and performed a song and dance for us or something. I’d never seen them all this speechless at the same time. I had the strong urge to snap my fingers under their noses just to bring them back to planet Earth.

I met Anne’s stare first, then Carrie’s, then Michelle’s. Without fail, each girl’s eyes widened as I met their gazes. Okay, this was getting weirder by the moment.

“Look at me.” Anne’s command, an echo of Dad’s demanding tone on Saturday, reminded me of my changed appearance. And of the crazy family secrets I wanted to forget as quickly as possible.

“Oh, yeah.” My good mood faded. “I forgot, you haven’t seen how weird I look.” Now Anne would tell me what an imaginative idiot I was and how I looked the same as I always did.

Her eyebrows drew together. “You don’t look weird. But you do look different, that’s for sure. What’d you do to your hair? It looks like a flippin’ Garnier commercial. Did you get it colored? It’s not so orange now. And it’s … poufy.”

Oh. So maybe I hadn’t imagined the changes in my appearance.

Feeling like a circus sideshow, I blushed. “I know, it’s kind of odd. But I swear I didn’t do anything new to it.”

“And your eyes,” Michelle whispered.

I looked at Michelle, who reminded me of a nervous rabbit today for some reason. Her gaze darted away.

Oh, crap, that’s right. Dad had mentioned that my gaze might have a strange effect on others. But he hadn’t said what kind of effect. He should’ve warned me that my friends would treat me like an alien that had crash-landed at our table.

“What do you think, Carrie?” I met her stare head-on, my hands clenching into fists under the table as fear battled with a tiny bit of curiosity. Exactly what did they see when they looked into my eyes now?

Carrie was the calmest, coolest, most levelheaded member of our group. She had a mind like a scientist, or the doctor she claimed to want to become someday. She could offer some practical, objective feedback.

I held her gaze for several seconds as something like the weekend’s panic threatened to overwhelm what little curiosity I’d had. Maybe I didn’t want to know, after all.

Then I saw it … that same fearful widening of the eyes just before Carrie looked away.

Ohhh, crap. And according to Dad, that was a vampire thing.

I tried to remember how to breathe past the growing thickness in my throat. The noise of the cafeteria ramped up, roaring in my ears like an angry ocean during a storm, even as too many different emotions from others rushed in waves over my skin. I wrapped my arms around myself in a futile effort to block them out.

Did this mean I was turning into a vampire?

“Here, let me see again.” This time, Anne’s voice was far from its usual command.

And suddenly, I did not want to make eye contact with her. I didn’t want to see my best friend look at me and become afraid. Then again, maybe it was all in how I was looking back at them, and I just needed to relax. Maybe then they would settle down and it would be no big deal.

I slid my gaze up and over, seeing Anne’s chin first, then her mouth and nose. I hesitated, took a deep breath, focused on being calm and hopefully projecting soothing thoughts with my eyes, then made direct eye contact. And heard her gasp.

Well, crap. That didn’t work, either. My gaze dropped to the tray of food I no longer wanted as my head began to swim.

After a minute, Anne took a deep breath before saying, “It’s okay, Sav. Your eyes aren’t that different, at least not in a way I can really describe. They just seem kind of … intense for some reason.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Michelle said. “Reminds me of how my mom looked at me when I accidentally broke the coffee table last month. Like she wanted to kill me.”

“But I’m not mad!” I blurted out. “In fact, I was pretty dang happy a minute ago. That guy who just came over, Greg Stanwick, is a junior and a varsity soccer player. He just introduced himself out of the blue while we were in the food line. It was kind of weird actually….” Weird didn’t even begin to cover all the recent things I’d been going through since last week. And couldn’t talk about with them. How in the world could my friends believe me, much less understand? They hated the Clann. Michelle thought witches sacrificed small animals, Carrie was too practical to ever believe in vampires and Anne’s Pentecostal family would never let her be friends with a half vampire/half witch. They barely liked her hanging out with a bunch of Methodists and Baptists. And I still hadn’t figured out how she’d convinced them to let her wear jeans every day and cut her hair. The other Pentecostals on campus had to wear skirts and couldn’t cut their hair, which they wore down to their knees.

“He’s a junior?” Carrie said, her stiff posture melting around the edges a little.

“Ooh, and a varsity soccer player, too?” Nothing like a new piece of gossip to make Michelle sound like her old self again. She claimed she wanted to be a nurse and help Carrie in the operating room someday, but Anne and I had a private bet that she would end up working for a gossip magazine instead.

A little of the tightness in my chest eased as all three of my friends attacked the juicy news, and gradually the tidal wave of everyone else’s emotions fell away. I forced a smile as I answered their questions about Greg and ended up giving a word-for-word playback of my earlier conversation with him. But I was careful never to look higher than their noses while I spoke. I didn’t want to risk freaking them out again with my eyes.

My vampire eyes.

“Oh, speaking of boys acting weird,” Michelle said. “Savannah, you seem to have another fan.”

As soon as Michelle said the words, I could feel it. Tristan was staring at me from the Clann kids’ table across the cafeteria. I didn’t know how I knew it was him, but I would have bet a lot of money on it.

“And he’s staring at you right now,” Michelle added with a grin, completely unsubtle in trying to bait my curiosity.

“Tristan Coleman, right?” I tried to keep my voice calm, hopefully even bored-sounding.

“How’d you know?” she gasped.

Because I can feel his gaze boring into the back of my dang head, I wanted to growl. Instead I shrugged and tried to act like it didn’t bug me.

“Well, I bet you didn’t know that he was asking about you last week.” Pride flooded her voice. “He said he and the Clann girls at his lunch table had heard you were sick and were worried about you.”

Whoa. Tristan had noticed I was gone and asked about me? Out of personal interest, or for the Clann?

Anne snorted. “Oh, please. As if any of those spoiled brats care about anyone outside their elite little circle.”

Unless their parents had told them all about me, and now they were worried I would attack them in the halls.

“Well, why would he lie about it to me?” Michelle said.

“Maybe because he’d already asked me and I told him to mind his own business,” Anne said.

I stared at my best friend in surprised horror.

“Well, in so many words,” she added in a mumble.

“Why didn’t you just tell him how I was doing?” I said.

“Because I honestly didn’t know, okay? All your grandma would say was that you were sick and they weren’t sure when you’d be back at school, but you weren’t in the hospital. Besides, he’s a mega … mega …” Anne scowled, her nose scrunching as she searched for the word she wanted.

“Megalomaniac?” I offered.

“Yeah. That!”

I sighed. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I really was … sick. In fact, I don’t remember most of last week beyond Monday afternoon. I think I scared Mom and Nanna, too.” There, that was the truth. Mostly.

Three faces stared at me with open shock once again. I tried not to cringe in reaction. All this unexpected attention today made me want to find a hole to hide in.

“So what was wrong with you?” Anne said.

I shrugged and braced for the necessary lie. I would have to tell them it had been the flu. But the bell rang, cutting short the conversation. Thank goodness, too, because I really sucked at lying. And there was no way they would ever believe even half the stuff my family had told me this weekend. Hopefully they would just forget that I’d been out sick and had weird eyes now.

If I was lucky, maybe I could forget, too.

Tristan

My knees bounced beneath the descendants’ table as I ate my lunch and watched the clock on the cafeteria wall. Two hours left until fourth-period algebra.

I’d made the lunch-chair trade with Dylan permanent, though he wasn’t happy about it. But I’d had to pull rank on him; the view was better from his old seat. Or at least it had been, until the view showed a dark-haired boy, short and wiry, stopping at Savannah’s table.

Probably one of her friends’ boyfriends.

Except the guy was standing inches from Savannah and talking to her, not the others.

My knees stopped bouncing.

A classmate asking for help on an assignment? No, he looked too old to be a freshman like us.

I leaned sideways toward my sister. “Who’s that guy?”

“Huh?” Emily looked around then smirked. “Oh, you mean the one talking to a certain—”

“Yeah.”

She got the hint and whispered, “Tell you in a minute.” Then she pretended to return to her lunch. But I noticed her casually scoping out the cafeteria every few seconds.

The guy braced one hand on Savannah’s table, another hand on the back of her chair, and leaned down toward her.

I sat up, my hands clenching into fists on my thighs. Back off. Now, I thought to the would-be Romeo, adding a little magical push to the thought. Some humans were too thickheaded to pick up on Clann mental commands. This guy wasn’t, thankfully. His head shot up and he looked toward me.

I knew I should be acting more casual in case the Clann noticed. But I’d lost control. I glared back at him, willing him to take a silent hint and get lost.

After a few seconds, he straightened up and walked away.

I eased down in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. But I still wanted to hit something.

Once the guy was several yards away from Savannah, Emily leaned over and threw an arm around my shoulders. “That was Greg Stanwick. He’s a junior. Plays on the varsity soccer team, so apparently he’s good. I’ve heard he’s pretty charming and doesn’t mind dating younger girls. Like freshmen.”

A growl started in my chest. Not Savannah, he wouldn’t. She needed someone … taller. Someone who didn’t smile like a freaking game-show host.

“Youch. Want to ease up on the energy level there, little brother?” Emily peeled her arm from my shoulders and rubbed her skin through her shirtsleeve.

“Sorry,” I muttered and glanced around our table. Everyone was staring at me. “Sorry,” I called out to the entire group. Several of them rolled their eyes and rubbed their arms or the back of their necks, but everyone seemed to accept the apology and looked away again. Everyone except Dylan, who kept watching me with raised eyebrows. I shrugged in answer to his silent question. He could be nosier than a girl looking for gossip sometimes.

“You know that wouldn’t happen if you would focus on your training,” Emily said.

“And you know I don’t care about all that crap.”

“Too bad. The energy doesn’t go away if you ignore it. It only gets worse.”

I tried ignoring her.

“Tristan, don’t be moronic. If you don’t learn to ground better—”

She nagged worse than our mother. “I grounded all weekend.”

“Are you sure you’re doing it right?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. Then you might want to try grounding at school, too.”

“And how do I do that without looking crazy?”

She surprised me with a laugh. “Find a tree.”

“And then what, hit it?”

“No, make like a car and gas pump but in reverse. Siphon off some of your energy through the tree to the ground.”

“Good idea, sis. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” I faked a grin, hoping a little charm would convince her to drop the subject and get off my back.

She shook her head, seeing through me, but at least returned to her lunch.

Relaxing in my seat, I finished eating then headed for the trash cans. On my way back, I saw Stanwick at a table with two other guys. The soccer jerk was staring in Savannah’s direction with a look on his face. The kind of look that said he was thinking about asking her out.

I should hit the guy now and save time. Except Jacksonville High had a zero-tolerance policy against fighting on campus. I would get suspended if I got caught. It would go on my permanent record, and colleges weren’t thrilled about accepting students who went around beating up their classmates. And no college meant no chance of playing for the NFL.

Too bad Stanwick didn’t play football instead …

Scowling, I returned to my table and grabbed my books. Our entire table froze, their heads turning to stare at me.

“Tristan Glenn Coleman,” Emily hissed. “Outside. Tree. Now.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” I grumbled and headed out the door for the nearest tree.

I found one a few yards away between the cafeteria’s rear exit and the math building. Perfect. Now how to ground without looking like an idiot? I couldn’t exactly hug the thing, not with all those students at the outside picnic tables for an audience. But I had to touch the tree with my hands somehow for it to work.

And then I figured it out. Leaning back against the tree like I was waiting for someone, I held my books against my thigh with one hand and let my free hand hang at my side. A turn of the wrist and my empty palm touched the rough bark. Taking a deep breath, I mentally reached inside, found the boiling flow of energy and willed it out through my hand to the tree.

The bark heated up. Aw, hell, I was going to start a fire. I slowed down the energy flow until the bark cooled. Better. I felt the resulting calm as the excess energy left me, and grinned. Yeah, that was much better.

The cafeteria doors opened, and four girls exited, one of them with red hair that seemed to glow in the sunlight. Savannah. She was laughing about something when a nearby table full of boys yelled out a greeting to Anne. Anne yelled back, and the group of girls split up as Anne and Savannah walked over to the table.

I gripped my books tighter.

Anne did all of the talking, stopping at one point to lean over and point out something in an open math book. The boys nodded and looked up at her. I recognized them from our algebra class.

I could tell the exact second when the boys noticed Savannah. Almost in a wave, one by one they froze, their easy smiles melting into blank stares. If not for Savannah’s reaction and the fact that she wasn’t in the Clann, I almost would’ve guessed that she’d just put a spell on them. But her smile faded away, too, and her chin ducked down to her chest. She hugged her notebook against her stomach and tugged on Anne’s wrist. Anne studied the boys and scowled. Then the girls beat a fast exit.

Savannah looked back, maybe because she felt the boys still staring at her, and walked away faster. As the pair drew even with me, Anne glanced my way then muttered something to Savannah. I was no expert at reading lips, especially from a distance, but it looked like she’d called me a stalker.

I almost laughed out loud. Me, a stalker? Please. But a glance back at the table of boys made me frown instead. I might not be a stalker, but … they were still staring at Savannah, their expressions zombielike. Savannah might be earning a stalker or three, after all.

Great. As if that Stanwick guy wasn’t enough of a pain. If she kept this up, Savannah would have a line of dazed idiots trailing after her soon.

The tree bark started to burn again. I ripped my hand away and gave up on grounding for now. I’d have to be dead to get rid of all this extra energy. The descendants on campus would just have to get used to my power spikes for today.




CHAPTER 4


Tristan

When I strolled along the catwalk toward algebra class an hour and a half later, I knew the descendants would all be feeling the power spikes yet again.

The creeps from lunch had cornered Savannah outside the math building.

The closer I got to the building, the better I could see her face. Any other girl who had three guys flirting with her would probably have been thrilled. But she wasn’t. She looked murderous.

Yards away now, I noticed that her face was even paler than usual. Her movements were jerky, her shoulders hunched, her hands fisted around her notebook and backpack straps. Her fans seemed too dazed to notice her emotions, though, their pathetic faces eager as they continued to compete for her attention.

She glanced past them to me for a second. For help? Her cheeks turned red just before she looked past me like I was invisible.

She took a step sideways toward the building door. The creep on that side leaned against the wall, blocking her escape. She said something to him in a voice too low for me to make out. He laughed but didn’t move. She tried to take a step between him and the guy in the middle. But all three closed ranks, leaving her no room to get through.

What the …?

Her eyes widened, and I was close enough now to see them turn moss-green. She stomped on the foot of the guy standing between her and the building entrance. He acted as if he were wearing steel-toed boots and couldn’t feel a thing.

Time to step in, whether she wanted my help or not.

“Hey, Sav. You got a problem here?” I stopped a few feet away.

Her mouth opened like she was going to answer. But then she shut it and shook her head. Her chin rose a notch, and she looked through me again. Stubborn girl.

“Hiya, Sav, sorry I’m late,” Anne called out from behind me as she jogged up to us from the catwalk. Ah, so that’s who Savannah had been looking at. “Excuse me, boys.” She barreled right through the creeps, grabbed Savannah’s arm and kept going toward the building entrance like a bulldozer without brakes. “I got held up in English. Thanks for waiting for me.”

The girls made a quick escape into the building, Anne playing bodyguard at Savannah’s board-stiff back. Huh. So it was okay for Anne to come to the rescue but not me. Not a surprise, but that actually kinda stung.

I stared at the three guys. They didn’t notice me, their eyes blazing now as, like magnets, they shambled after the girls into the building. Whoa, now that was extra creepy. They looked like a bunch of possessed zombies.

What would these guys do if they caught Savannah somewhere more private on campus, like in the girls’ rest-rooms or a locker room or something?

I slammed the building door open, wincing as the metal handle hit the brick exterior. Gotta get it under control, Coleman.

I took a deep breath as I entered the classroom. Mr. Chandler had just started class. Great. I’d have some time to think up a solution and make sure those guys left Savannah alone for good. Or maybe my sister would have some ideas. She was excellent at getting rid of creeps without their ever knowing it. It was one of the first things our dad had taught her once she’d started magic training.

I spent the lecture staring at the shaking strands of Savannah’s ponytail and thinking about how best to convince Emily to break the rules and teach me herself. I was so busy planning that it took twenty minutes to notice the difference.

Savannah had done something to her hair.

I’d thought it was just the lighting in the cafeteria earlier. But her hair was definitely different. It used to be more of a fiery orangish-red. Now it was darker, with strands of deep red and brown running through it. And it was shinier, too.

And oh, man, did she smell good.

She still smelled like lavender. But the scent was stronger, warmer. More mysterious. And her skin looked extra good today. Especially right above the collar of her sweater …

I gulped and leaned back in my chair again as I tried to think straight. To remember all the reasons why kissing that curve where her neck and shoulder met would be a bad idea.

I had to pity the three creeps then. There was something about Savannah that went way beyond the normal attraction. I was only surprised that every male in the school hadn’t gathered around her outside the building today.

A foot kicked my left leg.

My head shot up and I looked around. The lecture had ended, everyone was working on the assignment … and Anne seemed ready to punch me. What now?

She wrote in big letters across her paper, Quit staring!

I wasn’t, I wrote on my own paper big enough so she could read it.

Yes, you are. All you guys are such creeps, she added on her paper.

Confused, I looked at her and mouthed the words all you guys, raising my eyebrows. What was she talking about?

Her head jerked to the right and back before she pretended to return to her work. But I could see she was just doodling on her paper.

I waited a minute then faked a silent yawn and stretch so I could glance behind us at the rest of the class. Sure enough, three pairs of male eyes were all locked in Savannah’s direction. Their dark expressions said their thoughts were anything but nice.

The guys had gone well beyond stalker level straight to “lock me up, I’m a serial killer” in just two hours.

Oh, yeah, I was definitely going to have to do something about this. The question was … what? And how much time did I have to work with?

I wrote, I am NOT like them. But don’t worry about those creeps. I’ll take care of it.

Anne’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t write anything else on her paper.

When the bell rang, I took my time gathering up my books. Then I sensed somebody coming toward our group of desks. A quick glance behind me showed it was the Creepy Three. I spun out and around my desk, positioning myself between Savannah and them.

“Hey, Ron, think we’ve got a shot of making the varsity team next year?” I said to the guy seated in front of Anne at Savannah’s left. I wasn’t surprised by Abernathy’s confused expression as he looked around at me. Though we’d both played offensive JV football this year, Ron’s family had just moved to Jacksonville last year, and he hadn’t made many friends yet. He seemed like the quiet type, and until today we’d never spoken to each other outside of team time.

Ron must have been raised by parents who believed in being polite, though, because he didn’t blow me off. “Maybe. I heard Coach Parker’s getting desperate for some solid second-string players on varsity.”

I could feel three people hovering at my back, no doubt wishing I would move. Smothering a nasty grin, I spread my feet, crossed my arms over my chest and settled in. “That’d be sweet if we got moved up. Think we’d get any actual field time then?”

Ron shrugged. “Probably. You know how it is. Between grades and injuries, we might stand a good shot.”

Someone had the guts to tap my shoulder. I ought to break off those fingers. Instead, I ignored them and kept talking with Ron, discussing who might be most likely to get benched next fall for injuries or failing grades.

Unfortunately, Savannah and Anne appeared to be too deep in their own whispered conversation to notice the prime opportunity I’d given them to escape. Girls. They picked the worst times to turn chatty.

When Ron leaned away to grab his books, I cleared my throat. Anne looked up. I shot her a look that hopefully told her to get her skinny rear in gear. She got the hint, grabbed Savannah, and within half a minute the girls were leaving.

Just as I started to relax, I sensed the Creepy Three shifting as if to follow the girls.

“See you at practice,” I said to Ron then headed for the door, lengthening my stride so I would reach it before the creeps. At the doorway, I turned and gave them my ugliest look.

They had the nerve to glare back at me, even though all three of them were a good half a foot shorter than me. Not to mention they couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds combined.

“I know you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking,” I growled. Behind me, the math-building exit door banged shut.

They stared up at me. Man, they just had no clue what kind of danger they were in. I could beat all three of them into pulp in ten seconds flat and not even work up a sweat.

“Is there a problem, boys?” Mr. Chandler said from his desk.

“Yes, sir,” I said, working not to smile. “I could’ve sworn I just heard these three call you a fat, bald-headed little pig.”

Mr. Chandler stood up. “Well. Sounds like maybe you three should stay for a little chat with me.”

Confused, they turned to the teacher and started stammering. That ought to hold them for a while, at least long enough for the girls to reach the parking lot and their rides. Satisfied, I headed outside in time to see Savannah get into her grandma’s car.

What I wasn’t expecting was to see Anne stalking back toward the math building.

Curiosity made me call out to her, “Hey, where are you going?”

The building door opened behind us. I glanced back. The Creepy Three slunk through, giving me pathetic excuses for scary looks before they headed down the catwalk.

Anne’s glare was much more impressive as she stared after them. “I’m going toad hunting.”

“Uh, I think the situation’s under control now.”

“They made her shake! And did you see that look they just gave you? Do you really think they’re going to leave her alone now?”

Frowning, I watched the toads in question stop at the other end of the catwalk and huddle. No telling what ideas they were coming up with.

“All right, I see your point. But why don’t you let me handle them?”

“Why, because you think I’ll get hurt?” She sneered.

“No. I’m sure you could take them. But I think a simple man-to-man talk is a better solution.” I felt my mood darken with all the things I’d like that talk to include.

Her eyes narrowed. “You really like her, don’t you?”

I blinked a few times. “Why would you think that? Just because I want to help someone out …”

“Jeez, all you boys are the same. What, did you grow up on stories about Camelot or something? You know, contrary to popular Southern male opinion, not every female is a damsel in distress just sitting around waiting to be rescued by Lancelot, or whatever. We can take care of ourselves.”

“Actually, I’ve always thought of myself more as a King Arthur type. You know, take charge, lead the troops and all that,” I joked.

She snorted. “Oh, of course your ego would be king-size.”

“Hey, whatever it takes to get the job done.”

“Uh-huh. Okay, Arthur, we’ll see how you do with the toads.”

“That’s King Arthur to you.”

“Don’t hold your breath for that one.” She headed for the parking lot, then stopped after a few yards and turned back. “You really think I could’ve taken them?”

I laughed. “Oh, yeah. Easily.”

“Good answer, Coleman! You might actually be good enough for her someday,” she yelled back.

I cringed and glanced around, but thankfully no one seemed to be paying attention.

I checked my watch, cursed and broke into a jog toward the field house, bracing myself for the punishment I’d get for being late. Laps, probably, at least five of them. Maybe more depending on Coach Parker’s mood today. Oh, well. It’d be worth it. Along the way, I tried to figure out what I would do about the Creepy Three. Or the toads, as Anne had called them.

I had to focus during weight training. Part of my punishment for my lateness was being paired up with some wimpy kid who needed a spotter to save him from the evil bench press every few seconds. But as soon as practice ended and I finished all ten laps around the outdoor track that ringed the practice field, my brain went right back to the problem at hand.

All joking aside, Anne’s claim that she could take care of the boys herself was overconfident. Sure, maybe she and Savannah could handle one boy. Maybe two. But three at a time? No way. And what about when Savannah wasn’t with Anne?

I had options, though none of them were great. Beating up the toads would make my fists happy and ensure the jerks got the point. But there was that whole problem with Jacksonville High’s no-violence policy again.

I could settle for threatening them instead, but I doubted they’d be smart enough to listen and stay away from Savannah.

That left me with only one solution that couldn’t be traced back to me, at least by normal methods, and would take the choice away from the creeps. For that, I’d need my sister’s help.

I got to the car before Emily. Kicking back, I propped my feet on the dashboard and waited. I must have drifted off.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Emily tossed her poms onto my face as she got in. “Get those grubby feet off my dash, please.” Using her index finger like a wand, she magically lifted my feet in the air for a few seconds. Man, I hated it when she used telekinesis on me! It made me feel like a puppet. Seriously creepy. Not to mention the small pinpricks that raced over my skin whenever she used magic around me. And that was just from a tiny use of power.

Swatting away the annoying piles of plastic, I sat up. The sun was already setting. “What took you so long?”

“Cheerleading practice. Remember? Cheerleaders have to train hard, too.”

“Uh-huh.” I frowned at the fast-sinking sun then glanced at my watch and swore. I was running out of time, and no way could I risk waiting another day to get rid of Savannah’s stalker club. “Listen, sis. I really need your help. And I know what you’re going to say, but hear me out first, okay?”

Her eyebrows rose, but she nodded and started the car.

As we drove, I gave her a quick rundown about Savannah’s newest fans and how scared she’d looked. I might have played it up a little, but they had acted half crazed over her, and she’d seemed pretty upset at the end of class. “So, I need your help.”

“You want me to use my power to make them leave her alone?”

“No. I want to do it.” With Savannah’s looks, this could become a weekly problem. And I didn’t want to have to go to my sister for help every time.

Emily didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

“You won’t teach me?”

“No. You know the rules. Not just Mom and Dad, but all the elders would kill me or worse if I teach you anything I know. You can only learn from an elder, no one else.”

I groaned and ran both hands through my hair.

“Oh, calm down, you spoiled brat. You’re a Coleman. You know you’ll get your way in the end. You’re just making this way too hard.” Emily pushed a button on the remote clipped to her visor. The wrought-iron gates swung open ahead of us at our driveway’s entrance and we pulled through, the gravel crunching like potato chips under the car’s tires.

“Oh, so you think I should just beat them up, lose any chance of going to college and break our mother’s heart? Okay, but remember, it was your idea.”

“Of course not, you idiot. I meant that you need to learn from an elder how to protect her.” She pulled into the garage and let me think over her suggestion while the door slid shut behind us.

“Yeah, I guess I could ask Dad. But you know their rules about her. They would kill me just for saying her name, let alone for trying to help her.”

“Who says they need to know how the information will be used? You know Dad’s been waiting for you to start taking your training seriously. So why not make our dear old dad happy for a change?”

I stared ahead into the gloom of the dim garage, thinking over everything Emily was and wasn’t saying.

She was right. Dad did want me to “buckle down and train harder”—harped on it, in fact. And self-defense was the first thing he’d taught Emily after she’d learned to ground her energy. So the odds were pretty good that I could get him to start on the same type of stuff with me. A hint or two from me about being ready to focus and needing help in the self-defense area should do it. But would I learn what I needed to fast enough to help Savannah? The Creepy Three might come to their senses with a little distance, time and sleep tonight. Or they might not. What if they were making plans right now to catch her alone somewhere?

“What time did Dad say he’d be home tonight?”

Emily glanced at her watch with a smile. “In half an hour.”

I jumped out of the car, leaving my books on the seat. “I’d better go change.”

“Don’t you need your books?”

I shook my head and gave her a grim smile. “I’ll be too busy. Got a different kind of homework tonight.”

“Okay. Just be sure to ask Dad how to do a targeted memory confusion spell. Every time those creeps try to get near Savannah, they’ll become confused and go away again. Put it in something small to hide in her backpack, and you’re all set.”

“Thanks.” I shot her a grin then ran inside and up to my room.

Savannah

I thought about telling my family about today’s algebra class. But they all seemed stressed about me already. I knew if I told them, Dad would have to tell the vampire council. Both the Clann and the council already thought I was a ticking time bomb. If they knew I was changing already, what would they do? Would they take me out of school? Would they take me away from Nanna and Mom and my friends?

So on the way home from dance class, I decided to give it another day and see what happened. Then if I felt like I really couldn’t handle things, I would ask for help.

“Hey, hon, how was your day?” Mom called from her couch office as Nanna and I entered the house. Mom seemed tense, her elbows braced on her knees, her cell phone strangely quiet for once. Had she been waiting for me to come home and report?

“It was fine. But I really need a shower now. Ballet and jazz class were …” Great. Fabulous. Amazing. “Brutal.” I made a beeline for the bathroom so neither of them could see my face while I lied. “What’s for dinner?”

I should have known avoiding them wouldn’t be so easy.

Mom came into the bathroom just as I was pouring on the shampoo. Great, now I was trapped for at least the next few minutes. Knowing my mother, she’d probably timed it that way, too.

“Did you have any … issues today?” she asked, obviously trying and failing to sound casual.

My throat choked up. Part of me was desperate to wimp out and tell her everything.

I slid open the frosted-glass door an inch and peeked at her. Worry lines creased her forehead. I shut the door again and scrubbed my hair faster. “It was fine. Though dancing today was … different. My dancing is a lot better now.”

Silence.

Finally, she said, “Define ‘a lot.’”

“Um, like I was able to get my splits down to the floor finally. And I learned how to do high kicks and turns and leaps without taking out any of the other students for a change.”

She laughed. “Well, that sounds good, then. Anything else?”

Besides the fact that I seemed to have created a scary new fan club and my friends couldn’t stand it when I looked them in the eye? “Nope.”

“Okay. Well, I’d better go help your grandma get dinner ready. I’m glad you had a good day.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll be out in a minute.” My stomach, already knotted and rolling with acid, cramped at the idea of eating. Lying could make a really good diet plan for me, if it didn’t kill me first.

She left the room, shutting the door behind her, and I found I could suddenly breathe again.

Now all I had to do was pray that tomorrow would prove none of us had anything to worry about in the first place.

Tristan

I took a deep breath at his study door then knocked. “Come in,” Dad’s voice boomed out. Inside, I was surprised to find Emily already there. She gave him a hug.

“Thanks for listening, Daddy,” she said as she walked toward me and the door.

“Anytime, Princess,” he replied, a big smile barely visible beneath his bushy silver beard.

Huh? I searched Emily’s face, trying to figure out why she was here. She never came to Dad’s study, preferring to chat with him either at the dinner table or while they played golf together.

She gave me a sneaky two thumbs-up before she passed me and left the room. She was up to something. I’d have to trust that it was helpful somehow.

“Hello, son. Come and have a seat.” He sounded stern, his smile gone now.

Trying to act relaxed, I sat in one of the two leather chairs before his massive oak desk.

“Dressed for sports?” He loosened his tie and sat back down in his desk chair.

I glanced down at the hoodie and sweatpants I’d changed into. “Yeah, training practice.”

“Hmm. Yes. Well, that reminds me. I’m glad you came in here. I heard you had a bit of trouble today at school?”

My hands nearly clenched up before I could stop them. What had Emily told him? “Yeah, a little.”

“She also said you needed her help?”

Emily wouldn’t have ratted on me about our conversation in the car. Would she?

“I see.” He must have misunderstood my silence for an answer. “So the grounding training hasn’t helped?”

Oh. So Emily had told him about my power spikes instead. “Well, sort of. She told me how to ground by using a tree at school. And it helped.”

“Mmm-hmm. But it sounds like you still have a lot of excess energy?” He took another sip of his drink, picked up a letter on his desk and began to read it in silence.

I was losing his attention already. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about, sir. I’ve still got a lot of energy sometimes, even with the grounding. And I was thinking today that maybe it keeps building up because I’m not putting it to good use.”

His sharp green eyes bored into me. He dropped the letter and set down his drink on his desk blotter, the dull thud loud in the too-quiet room. “Go on.”

Had I already messed up? “So I was thinking … maybe it’s time for me to really focus on my training. Emily said the powers won’t go away by ignoring them. But if I could learn how to use them—”

“Stop right there.”

Crap, I’d already screwed up somehow. I held my breath.

He rose from his chair and came around the desk toward me. “You’re saying that, after months of refusing to work on your training, now you’re ready to buckle down and learn?”

I cleared my throat, waited a beat, then nodded.

A slow smile spread across his face before he clapped a huge paw of a hand on my shoulder. “Well, all right, then, let’s get started! You’re already dressed for training. That’s good. Have you eaten? If you grounded at school today, you’re gonna need to fortify the body and fuel the energy, you know.”

I grinned with relief and rose to my feet. “Yeah, Dad. I just had a couple of sandwiches and some milk.”

“Good, good, good. Then let’s head to the backyard and get going. We’ve got a lot to cover.”

I glanced down at the slacks and dress shirt he still wore. “Uh, don’t you need to change?”

“Why waste time? I’ve got a million suits.”

As we stepped out the patio door to the backyard barely visible in the dusk, I took another chance. “Hey, Dad, do you think we could start with some self-defense training?”

“Problems at school?”

I forced a laugh. “Oh, you know, nothing a good right hook wouldn’t take care of. But you know Mom and how much she wants me to go to college.”

He chuckled. “I understand completely. Gotta go the subtle route this time, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, sure, we can start with some defensive training. Although if you ever get ready for a real fight …”

“You’ll be the first to know, Dad, I promise.”

“All right. Have a seat there on the grass while I pull up a chair.” He grabbed a wicker chair from the back patio, brought it onto the lawn and sat down, muttering, “Getting too old to sit on the ground.”

I sat in front of him, legs crossed kid-style as he’d taught me for grounding training even though it seemed stupid. I felt like a kindergartner getting ready for story time.

“Okay, so here’s the basics of casting a spell. Every witch starts off at the beginner level of spellcasting by saying a word and using a small hand gesture. This helps you focus and control when the spell is actually cast, until you learn how to discipline your mind. Someday, when you’re ready, I’ll teach you how to cast a spell even if you’re tied up with your mouth taped shut, just by thinking the word and using your willpower. Eventually you’ll learn to cast a spell even without a word at all, just by thinking about the results you want to create. Like you do when you create fire or ground your energy.”

As much as I hated magic, I had to admit, throwing a spell with just my mind would be kind of cool.

He continued. “The first thing you need to know is, when someone is coming at you, you’ve gotta react fast. So we’ll start with the word and hand gesture to cast a blocking spell. Just remember, though, no spell’s going to work until you really want it to.

“Now, are you feeling confident?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Then stand up.” I obeyed.

“And come at me.”

“Sir?”

“Go on. Try to come at me like you’re gonna tackle me.”

I took two slow steps toward him. And found myself ten yards away, walking in the opposite direction, and a million tiny stabs of pain racing over my neck and arms.

I muttered a curse and shook my head, rubbing the sensation from my skin. Was this how all the descendants felt when a Coleman used magic near them? No wonder the descendants hated it when I had power spikes at school.

“See how it works?” he said as I walked back. “It just moves you away and turns you around. Really good for fighting in hard-to-see situations, because it can confuse your attacker and give you time to get away.”

I nodded and paid close attention as he taught me the word and wrist flick. But when I tried it for myself, nothing happened.

“Ah, but you’ve really got to want it to happen, son. Your will is the key to it all. Now try again. This time, I’ll come at you.”

He walked toward me. I said the word and performed the hand gesture. And … nothing.

He glared at me. “Tristan Glenn Coleman. You can do better than that. Boy, I’m gonna tan your backside if you don’t get it in gear!” He came at me, his long legs eating up the distance between us despite his huge gut. I’d never realized he could move that fast.

Fear rammed through me, making me feel like a little kid about to get a serious butt whipping. I whispered the spell. Then he was at the end of the backyard and facing the opposite direction.

“All right! You did it!” He walked toward me, beaming. “I thought I might have to give you some motivation there.”

He was faking it? “Well, it worked.” My laugh sounded shaky even to my own ears.

The garden lights kicked on, flooding the yard and reminding me that time was running out fast.

“Okay, what’s next?” I said.

“Whoa, slow down, Tristan. Don’t you think you ought to practice that one a few more times?”

I reached for the energy within. Closing my eyes, I mentally whispered the word to that energy. When I opened my eyes, I focused on Dad and visualized myself performing the wrist flick at him. He reappeared at the other end of the yard.

He strolled back, shaking his head. His eyes, green copies of mine but wrinkled at the corners, were wide beneath his thick eyebrows. “Wow, son. You didn’t even use the word or hand gesture!”

“I did, just in my mind instead.”

“Impressive. That’s not usually something we teach until the fourth or fifth year of training. Remember, though, you can use the silent casting method, but you’ve gotta be extra careful if you’re only considering casting the spell. You have to keep your will out of it. Otherwise as soon as you think of the spell, you’ll end up casting it. That’s why we usually start off with the verbal method first. It gives you better control.”

“I understand.”

He shook his head one more time then grinned at me. “Should’ve known my son would be more advanced at this stuff than normal.”

“Of course. I’m a Coleman, right?”

“Right!”

I smiled back at him, but guilt made it tough to pull off. He looked so proud of me, so happy that I’d decided to focus on my training. But the truth was I still wasn’t the slightest bit interested in leading the Clann someday like he wanted me to. I just needed a spell or two so I could help Savannah. Then I could go back to trying to be normal.

“Uh, Dad? Can we … “

“Right, right. Back to work. Okay, so what other defensive spells might be useful?”

I remembered Emily’s advice. “How about a memory confusion spell? You know, so I could block someone from messing with something.”

“Ah, yes. Emily likes to use that spell to get rid of punks who bug her too much.”

“How long would a spell like that last?”

“If your sister cast it, a couple days at best. She’s too softhearted to will anyone to stay away longer than that. If I made it …” His face darkened. “A few months. Maybe years.”

“And if I made one?”

“Thinking of Christmas presents for your sister already?”

I laughed with him. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, like I said, it would depend on how often the boy tried to go near her. And how much you wanted him to stay away. But for one of Emily’s normal punks, I’d say at least a month if you cast it.”

The Creepy Three seemed pretty obsessed today. They might wear out a spell quicker than one of Emily’s usual fans. Then again … I thought of how much I wanted them to leave Savannah alone. I bet I could make my spells last at least a couple months bare minimum. Maybe by then they would move on to someone else to obsess over.

“Okay, what do I do?”

He grinned at me. “Well, you know your sister. She hates to feel like she can’t handle her own problems. So it’s best if she doesn’t know what you’re doing.”

“So I’d need to know who the creeps are without asking her, then find objects to charm that she’d carry around without suspecting?”

“Exactly!”

That last part might be tough. What could I give Savannah that she would keep with her at all times and not suspect? She’d question anything I gave her.

Unless she didn’t know about it. Emily said I should put a small charm in Savannah’s backpack. Maybe I could manage to sneak something small in there without her noticing.

“Okay, what else do I have to do?”

He taught me what to say and how to tap a finger on the object to load it with the memory confusion spell. “Every time you tap it, you’ve got to sort of push your will into the object. Every push should equal one memory block.”

“Should?”

He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “Well, I’ve never been able to ask your sister or mother how many times certain people we know have started to approach them then ended up walking away confused.”

Ah. So he had been doing a little secret protection work of his own. Mom and Emily would go nuts if they ever learned what he had been up to. I grinned. “I see your point.”

“All right, let’s try it. I’ll turn my back, and you charm one of the lawn chairs. Then I’ll try to approach each one. That way when I get confused, you’ll know it really worked.”

“Sounds good.”

We practiced for a while to make sure I had the spell down. Then he had to call it a night. “Sorry, son, but I’m worn-out and have a board meeting early in the morning.”

“No problem, Dad. Mind if I stay out here and keep practicing awhile?” I held my breath, expecting him to say that I couldn’t keep casting without his supervision according to Clann rules.

Instead, he nodded and headed for the patio door. Then he hesitated and looked back. “You know, I really am proud of you today. Feels like I’m seeing my little boy becoming a man right in front of me.”

My throat suddenly tightened. I managed a nod.

“Let’s train again tomorrow night,” he suggested with a grin.

Before I could think it through, I found myself nodding in agreement. He was still grinning as he entered the house. Great. Now he probably thought I’d changed my mind about following in his footsteps for the Clann leadership. If so, I’d have to figure out a way to let him down gently. Later. Right now, I had some serious memory confusion to create.




CHAPTER 5


Tristan

I ran up to my room and looked around. What could I put the spells in? Pens? Pencils? Paper clips? Nah, Savannah was always loaning out stuff like that in algebra. Maybe Emily had something I could use.

I had a sudden image of my sister handing me tampons just to torture me, and shuddered. No, I’d better not ask Emily. I glanced at my bedside clock. Eight fifty-six. Not too late to call for some insider advice. I grabbed a telephone book and my cordless phone.

“Hello, may I speak with Anne, please?” I said when a woman answered.

“Who is calling?” It was probably Anne’s mother, who worked in the accounting department at Coleman BioMed, Dad’s company. Not good. If she mentioned to any coworkers that I was calling Savannah’s best friend at home …

Thinking fast, I replied, “Arthur.”

“Arthur, it’s a little late for phone calls.”

At eight fifty-seven? Now I knew where Anne got her personality from. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry for the late phone call, but it’s a math emergency.” That wasn’t too much of a stretch on the truth.

“One moment.”

I heard murmuring in the background. Then Anne picked up the phone. “Why, hello, Arthur. Having trouble with that warty little problem we ran into today?” Her voice dripped with smug satisfaction.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I am. I need to know what types of things S—I mean, your friend usually carries around in her backpack.” I barely stopped myself from saying Savannah’s name out loud. Knowing my parents, they’d probably put a spell on my room to warn them if I ever said her name again.

“What doesn’t she have in there? The girl never cleans anything. Not her backpack, not her locker, not even her bedroom. Every time I sleep over at her house, I end up spending half the time cleaning her room just so I have some space to breathe. Drives me crazy!”

I pictured lacy scraps of underwear and bras lying around a sleeping Savannah, and fought to exhale. “Uh, not to interrupt the venting here, but I could use your help now.”

“Ha! I knew you couldn’t handle it on your own.” She sighed. “All right, what do you want?”




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