Consume
CHAPTER 10

"What the..." Dylan muttered as he ran into the room then skidded to a stop on the hardwood f loor. He stared down at Mrs. Coleman, then looked at me, his eyes going wide with shock. "You...you killed her?"
"What? No! I just got here. What are you doing here?"
Now his mouth snapped shut as he darted over to Mrs. Coleman's body and squatted down to check her pulse. But he didn't have to say anything. I could easily pick out the answer in his thoughts.
I gasped. "Your father did this? But why?"
He stared down at Mrs. Coleman. "Because it's time for new leadership." Silently he thought, But this-killing Mrs. Coleman-this wasn't part of the plan. Was it?
A rumble of footsteps warned us that we were about to be joined by several others just before Mr. Williams and three other descendants ran into the room.
"Vampire!" Mr. Williams roared and pointed.
I had just enough time to throw up a shield of energy around myself before the blue energy orbs hurtled my way, hitting my shield hard enough to force my calves and thighs to strain to keep me from falling backward.
"Savannah!" Tristan yelled, but it took a few seconds before he vamp blurred between Mr. Williams and Co. over to me while holding his sister tight against his side. As soon as he let her go, she wobbled then fell to her knees and threw up.
I increased my shield so it wrapped around both Tristan and Emily, as well. But the descendants had stopped throwing orbs at me as if waiting for something.
"You okay?" Tristan asked me, watching the descendants.
"Yeah. But your mom..."
"Why, Tristan, you fiend," Mr. Williams said with a slow smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You killed your mother!" He made a tsking sound and wagged an index finger. "You have been a very naughty boy this evening."
"What? I didn't..." Tristan glanced down at me with a frown. Then his gaze slid over to the body at my feet.
His eyes rounded, all color draining from his face. "No..."
Then he noticed Dylan still crouched over his mother's body with one hand at her neck, checking for a pulse.
"No!" Tristan roared, and the purely animalistic sound sent chills crashing through my body.
Then everything went really crazy, and even with the adrenaline-increased speed of my thoughts and reactions, I still had trouble following what happened next. To our left, more blue orbs exploded, forcing me to focus on holding the shield and returning fire against Mr. Williams and his crew.
"Emily, help!" I shouted. But when I glanced at her, she seemed too deep in shock over her mother's death. Emily had draped herself over her mother's body and was sobbing so hard her entire body rocked, though the sound was lost beneath the shouting and sizzling of f lying orbs filling the room.
Then Tristan burst free of our shield and vamp blurred straight at Dylan.
"No, Tristan!" I yelled. "He didn't-"
But I couldn't speak fast enough to beat Tristan's speed as he tackled Dylan at a run, driving his former childhood friend backward.
"You killed my mother!" Tristan screamed into his face as he grabbed two handfuls of Dylan's shirt.
Then he picked up Dylan and threw him across the room with another animal-like roar.
Dylan hit the stone fireplace with a loud crack so hard the thick wooden mantle broke along its length and half of it clattered along with him onto the hearth. Air whooshed out of Dylan's lungs, and his eyes closed as he went limp.
Oh, my God.
Sirens wailed outside. I couldn't get a read on Mr. Williams's thoughts, so I searched one of his crew member's instead.
Police. And not only were they Clann, they were also very much on Mr. Williams's side and in on tonight's attack.
This whole thing was a setup to either kill the entire Coleman family or at least frame Tristan for his mother's death, leaving Mr. Williams as the clear choice to succeed Nancy Coleman as the next Clann leader.
"We have to go!" I grabbed Emily, dragging her with me over to Tristan even as Emily screamed and tried to reach for her mother again. She fought me so hard I was afraid I'd bruise or break her arms trying to hold her. "Tristan! We've got to go! The Clann police are coming for you."
He looked past me at his mother's body, taking a lurching step forward.
"She's gone," I said, risking letting go of Emily with one hand so I could grab his shoulder and shake him even as my heart ached for him. "We can't stay!"
His jaw clenched, his eyes turning white and narrowing as he looked at Mr. Williams.
Mr. Williams smiled back.
Tristan scooped up Emily in his arms. She didn't even have time to gasp before we took off with her out the patio doors and across the backyard west toward the woods and downtown Jacksonville.
I had run with Tristan before since turning him, but never as fast as this. Tonight the Tristan I had once known as a small boy was gone, replaced with a furious animal. Fangs extended and lips peeled back in a snarl, he ran on pure instinct with his sister, never looked down at her or around us as he vamp blurred through town toward my house. It was all I could do to keep up with him, and when we burst into the house through the front door, stopping only once we reached the living room, I had to bend over and catch my breath.
He set Emily on the leather couch then darted away to the front window to pace back and forth, his fists clenching and unclenching over and over. A quick peek at his thoughts actually made me f linch and stare in horror.
He wanted Mr. Williams and the rest of the Clann to follow him here. He wanted revenge. He wanted their deaths... and their blood.
"Tristan..." I whispered.
Dad vamp blurred into the room. "What has happened?"
Swallowing hard, I spoke as fast as I could, telling him what had happened at the Coleman house. With every word I spoke, his face grew darker and darker.
I looked down at Emily, expecting her to fill in the details of the fighting that had occurred upstairs. That's when I realized she wasn't breathing.
Oh, God. If Tristan lost her, too, he'd never survive it.
"Emily!" I whispered, checking her throat for a pulse. Nothing.
Tristan disappeared from the window, reappearing in a crouch at Emily's head. "Emily? Emily!" he shouted.
Dad grabbed Tristan's wrists before he could tap his sister's cheeks.
"Do not touch her," Dad said. "In your present state, you will kill her."
Tristan growled at him, chest heaving. "Let go of me. She is my sister."
"Tristan, please let him help," I said.
Tristan glared at Dad for several long seconds. Finally he nodded and took a step back.
"Was she awake before you picked her up?" Dad asked Tristan.
Tristan nodded, his eyes wild as his hands buried themselves in his hair and gripped the curls as if to tear them out.
"You ran too fast with her. The pressure of the movement prevented her from drawing a breath." Dad pinched her nose and opened her mouth as if to give her CPR, then hesitated and looked up at me. "I cannot. She is Clann. I..."
He was afraid he might give in to the temptation to bite her.
I took over, carefully giving Emily a deep breath, then another, and another.
Finally she started coughing.
Tristan dropped into a crouch beside her and took her hand, staring at his sister as if to make sure she really was okay.
Dad blurred out of the room then back with a glass of water, which he silently offered Emily. She took it with a grateful nod. After a few sips, she slapped Tristan's shoulder with a loud thwack.
"Don't you ever run that fast with me again, you idiot! You could have killed us both." Her free hand rested protectively over her tummy, which I now noticed was a huge round hill from chest to hips. She closed her eyes, her lips moving soundlessly. Finally her shoulders sagged and her eyes f lew open. "It's still kicking. If you had hurt it-"
A screech of tires outside alerted us all to the arrival of guests. Great.
Tristan darted over to the window and snarled. "They're here. Good. We can finish this."
"No, Tristan," Dad said, and there was no room for argument in his tone. "We must get free and warn the council. If Mr. Williams has staged a coup, then war against the vampires is sure to follow."
A second war between the Clann and vamps. How many times had both my parents and Nanna expressed their fear of this very thing happening?
Our worst nightmares were about to come true.
For the second time that night, my skin broke out in goose bumps as the descendants both inside and outside the house ramped up their power in preparation. Obviously we'd have no time to pack.
Something pounded against the roof.
"What are they, navy SEALs?" I muttered in disbelief. They couldn't seriously be attempting to break into the house from the roof, could they?
Then we heard the crackling.
"They are setting the house on fire," Dad said, his face emotionless though his eyes were dark. "We must get out."
"That's exactly what they want," Tristan growled. "They're trying to smoke us out so they can take us."
I shook my head. "They don't have to smoke us out, Tristan. We can all die by fire right here inside. Remember?"
Dad disappeared then reappeared with a handful of papers, which he stuffed down inside his shirt, using the tucked-in top like a giant pocket for passports, cash and cards.
The crackling turned into a faint roar as tendrils of smoke began to form overhead, then quickly thickened into a cloud that drifted ever lower.
Great. More smoke.
"We must leave now," Dad said. "Through the side parlor windows, I think. We will stay within the cover of the woods and head west on foot. Emily, perhaps I should carry you this time to ensure you can still breathe?"
She hesitated then nodded. "Good idea."
Dad led us out the living room and across the foyer into the parlor. Suddenly the stained-glass window on the front door exploded inward, showering the foyer with a spray of colored glass. Tristan and I both dropped into a defensive crouch, our hands raised and ready to hit whoever came through with a spell.
Instead, fire burst through the foyer like a huge, fastmoving snake, twisting side to side almost as if it had a mind of its own and was searching for us.
Spell fire. It was the only explanation. But I'd never seen it used like this before.
"I will be right back!" Dad shouted then disappeared before I could argue that we shouldn't split up.
He reappeared three seconds later holding two plastic shopping bags full of something. Without explaining, he thrust the bags at me, then scooped up Emily.
"Tristan, the window," he said. "On three?"
Tristan nodded and we all got ready.
Tristan raised his hands, Dad counted, and on three the window exploded outward with Dad leaping out right behind the f lying glass.
I took a deep breath then jumped after him and ran as fast as I could toward the surrounding woods that wound through Jacksonville, following as close to Dad as I could.
I glanced back to make sure Tristan was with us, just in time to see him leaping out of the house with a huge wall of f lames at his back. At first I feared he was on fire, but once he was free of the house, I could see he was also clear of the fire, though the f lames did their best to reach out through the window after us.
And then I saw the entire roof, covered in f lames, collapse on my home.
Tristan grabbed my wrist and pulled me with him, jolting me out of my shock and horror. And then we were all running together too fast for me to think about anything but ducking and dodging low-hanging tree limbs thick with pine needles.
None of us slowed until we were deep in the woods that separated Jacksonville from the surrounding towns in an evergreen cocoon.
Finally, Dad stopped, easing Emily onto a nearby fallen tree so she could catch her breath. Tristan insisted on checking both of us for injuries. Seeing we weren't hurt, he moved away from all of us, turning his back to stare through the woods while Dad called my mother to ask her to come pick us up.
Tristan was too still, standing there with his fists clenched, his feet braced wide, his head unmoving. I tried to search his thoughts for some clue as to what was going on inside his head, but it was a raging roil of emotions way too mixed up and volatile for me to make out.
Emily walked over to him. He turned with a snarl. "What is wrong with you, Emily?"
"What?" she gasped.
"Why didn't you stop them before they killed her? They killed our mother, and you just hid in your room like a scared little kid. You let them kill her!"
Emily took a step back and gasped. Her hands clenched into fists at her side. "I tried-"
"Spare me. You and I both know you're capable of way more than that pathetic little display you put on back there. She wasn't perfect, but she was our mother. She deserved a real fight from you."
"I did the best I could!" Emily shouted. "I was upstairs dressing when they showed up. I fought them for forever all by myself. By the time you showed up, I didn't have anything left!"
His face contorted. "Since when have you run out of energy so-"
"Since this." She jabbed a finger in the direction of her rounded tummy. "This...thing is sucking up all my energy! I almost didn't have enough to even keep them off me tonight till you showed up. If you hadn't come when you did..." Her voice choked.
Tristan stared at her stomach as if seeing it for the first time, his eyes widening. We'd learned Emily was pregnant during the fight at the Circle where I'd turned Tristan, but with all that had happened, without seeing her, the reality hadn't hit until now.
Emily buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
Tristan took a halting step in her direction then another. And then he was there beside his sister, wrapping his arms around her and resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I'm sorry, sis. I shouldn't have said that stuff. I didn't know."
"Like I would really let our mother be killed?"
"I know. I was dumb. I shouldn't have said that."
"You shouldn't have even thought it!" She wrapped her arms around him, her crying muff led against his shirt.
"She's gone, Tris," Emily whispered. "She's really gone. They both are."
I wanted to go to Tristan, try to comfort him as I had in our connected dream the night his father died. But for the first time in a long time, I was on the outside. My dad and I might have lost our home tonight. But Tristan and his sister had lost their mother. And there was nothing I could say or do to lessen their pain.
My mother might not have been up for any mother of the year awards. But she'd always made sure I knew she loved me. And she was still alive. I could call or text her anytime I needed to, and I knew she would answer.
And now she was on the way to pick us up. But in doing so, Mom was putting herself in a huge amount of danger from multiple fronts. Mom had turned away from her Clann abilities and allowed them to atrophy years ago. She had no magic to call upon for even her own protection, much less mine or anyone else's if the Clann tracked us down.
And then there was the added problem of her being around Dad, Tristan and me. Just because she had been cast out of the Clann and never used her abilities didn't change the nature of her genetics. Her Clann blood would still be every bit as tempting to vampires as any other descendant's.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to turn to him. "You sure it's a good idea getting Mom involved in this?"
Dad sighed. "Believe me, I wish we did not have to. But she is your mother and therefore already involved. If she is not with us, the Clann could very well try to seek her out and use her as bait to lure us to them. Besides, her RV will be the best and most expedient way for all of us to get out of Clann territory and hide somewhere safe for a while."
I wished I could argue that the Clann would never do that. But after tonight and seeing how they had ruthlessly killed their own leader, I knew they were entirely capable of doing anything that would help them take over the Clann.
Not that all of them had known the full plan.
I remembered the shock and horror on Dylan's face when he'd discovered Mrs. Coleman's body, and how he'd assumed at first that I'd killed her. He definitely hadn't been fully in on his dad's plans for tonight.
I saw again how Tristan had grabbed and thrown him across the room even as Dylan tried to tell Tristan the truth.
Shuddering, I pushed that memory away for now as my stomach knotted painfully. I glanced at my feet and got a peek of the contents of the bags Dad had given me to carry. The shopping bags were filled with plastic bags of blood. "You risked getting killed for blood?"
"Of course," Dad said, his face blank. "We do not know when we will be able to restock. Especially once war breaks out. Blood suppliers have a habit of going into hiding during such times to avoid the Clann's retribution. If that happens again, we must be prepared."
Well, at least we had the comfort of knowing we wouldn't go hungry for a while.
"We must stay on the move until we meet up with your mother," Dad muttered, glancing around us uneasily. "The Clann will send the Keepers to search for us soon. When they do, these woods will not be safe."
The Keepers. Oh, crap. "Can I borrow your phone for a second?"
Dad frowned. "Now is not the time to engage in a long chat with your human friends."
"Not a chat, a warning. Ron's a Keeper, remember?"
He held out the phone. "Keep it brief."
With a nod, I dialed Anne's number by memory. Thankfully she picked up instead of her mother.
"Anne, listen to me because I don't have much time. Mr. Williams is staging a takeover of the Clann tonight. He killed Mrs. Coleman and tried to kill Emily and Tristan. He set it all up to look like Tristan and I killed her."
"Are you freaking kidding me?" Anne gasped.
"I wish. They burned down my house, too." Before she could ask, I added, "We're all okay, Emily and Dad, too. But we're going to be in hiding till we can find a way to set the Clann straight on what really happened. Dad says Mr. Williams is probably still going to become the new leader, though. And that means Ron and all the rest of the Keepers are going to have to obey his every order."
"Like h-"
"Don't start, Anne," I growled, needing her to listen to me for once. "Please don't encourage him to try to stand up to Mr. Williams. If they can kill Tristan's mother, their own leader, how hard do you think it'll be for them to take out one rebel Keeper?"
A second of silence, then she mumbled, "Okay. So what do you want us to do?"
"Tell Ron to be a good Keeper and do whatever he's told. Even if that means hunting for Tristan and me. Tell him I said he can't disobey them no matter what. These people aren't messing around." Remembering Dad's warning about my mom, I closed my eyes and said, "They could hurt Ron's family if he doesn't obey them."
She growled under her breath but thankfully didn't argue with me. "How will I know you guys are okay?"
"We'll get some disposable phones eventually, I guess. If Dad thinks it's safe to, I'll call or text you on one of them." Thinking fast, I said, "What if you call me Cousin Sally or something like that?"
"Good idea! You know I've got tons of cousins spread all over the country. In fact, I'll start calling and texting them all more. Then if the Clann checks my phone records, your long-distance calls will blend right in with everyone else's."
I couldn't help but smile. Trust Anne to find a way to get even a little excited about this situation. "That's a great plan. It might be a few days before I can call again. But I promise I will check in on you guys, okay? In the meantime, try really hard not to think about us."
"Oh, crap, I forgot, they can read our minds. How the heck am I-"
"They won't be able to hear your mind unless they're in the room with you or if you're outside. The danger zones will be when you're at school or around town. Which reminds me..."
"Yeah?"
"Promise me you won't go hunting for anything, in season or not, until I say it's okay? Dad says things are about to get really nasty between the Clann and the vamps. I don't want you in the woods if he's right."
"Okay," she grumbled. "Stay safe and keep your heads down."
"Will do."
I ended the call though I hated to have to do it. I wished there was some way to keep Anne and the others safe. But short of making some protection spells for them, which I couldn't do from a distance, they were on their own and at the mercy of the Clann.
Just like us if we didn't get out of here.
I snapped the phone closed and handed it to Dad. "Okay. Let's go." I turned to the Coleman siblings. "Um, guys?"
Emily sniffed and wiped her nose, stepping back from her brother. He turned away to drag his forearms over his face before turning to face us again, as if ashamed to be seen crying.
I told myself it was my father he was trying to hide his tears from. After all, I'd seen him cry before, like the night we dream-connected after his father's death. That time it had been me who had held him while he dealt with the shock and loss.
But a knot still managed to form in my throat, making it hard for me to say, "My mom's going to pick us up, but we've got to run awhile longer on foot and meet her halfway."
Tristan nodded, keeping his eyes lowered while Dad picked up Emily again.
Tristan? I asked silently this time. Are you okay?
"Let's go," Tristan said, his tone gruff.
Dad took off again, Tristan right behind him, leaving me to follow them with a sinking feeling deep inside the pit of my stomach.
CH A P TER 11
Five minutes later, we neared the highway. We ran parallel to it within the woods for a while, risking crossing roads when necessary, carefully skirting towns. I lost track of time, grateful for the chance to stop thinking about everything else and just focus on the job of putting one foot in front of the other and avoiding obstacles like trees, bushes and entangling weeds in the ditches and fields.
Then we saw Mom's truck and trailer waiting at the side of the highway up ahead.
We slowed down to a human jog, allowing Mom to see our approach in the headlights as we ran up the side of the road toward her. By the time we reached the trailer door, Mom was there to usher us all inside. In the kitchen area, she gave me a quick, hard hug, checking me over for injuries before turning to do the same with Dad.
His hard features softened for a moment. Finally he spoke up. "Joan, I told you we are all uninjured."
He stepped away from her to stow the blood bags in the fridge.
"Oh, please, Michael," Mom replied, rubbing at her eyes with a shaking, weather-roughened hand. "You and I both know you always say you're fine whether you really are or not."
From the main bedroom at the other end of the trailer came an endless, piercing yapping from Lucy, the Yorkshire terrier who was supposed to have been my birthday gift last November. At least until we'd discovered the dog hated vampires. From the frantic, fierce pitch of her barking, it was obvious she hadn't changed her opinion of our species yet.
"Stop it, Lucy!" Mom shouted with no success. The dog kept right on barking her little head off in an attempt to destroy both my supersensitive vampire hearing and my already frayed nerves.
"Tell me everything," Mom insisted once she was sure we were okay.
Dad told her the short version. She grabbed the edge of the nearby kitchen counter when he told her about the Clann's attack on the Coleman house. When he got to the part where they tried to burn us inside Dad's house, she had to sit down on the couch beside Emily.
"I can't believe the Williamses would do all of this," she murmured. "I grew up with Jim. He always hated vampires, but this..."
"Believe it," I said, trying to keep my focus on her so I wouldn't stare at Tristan, who still hadn't said a word. "Dad's right. This was way too coordinated not to have been planned ahead of time."
"He's taking over the Clann," Tristan said. "He'll declare war on the vamps next."
"Not until he's officially voted in as leader," Emily said.
"Which'll take, what, a couple of days to round everyone up for an emergency vote?" Mom said.
"We must warn the council." Dad stepped outside for a few seconds, reaching for his phone in his pocket even before his feet touched the ground. The door swung shut behind him, only to jerk open again ten seconds later. He reentered the trailer, shut the door behind him and cleared his throat. "They...have requested a meeting with us."
"Why?" The word squeaked out of me.
"They want to hear a firsthand account of what happened. They..."
I read the rest of it in his thoughts. "They think we started this? That we lost control or something? Didn't you tell them about Mr. Williams and his hit team of descendants?"
Dad nodded. "My words did not matter. They demanded to meet with both of you. Immediately. They are sending a jet to the nearest airport for us."
"Absolutely not!" Mom snapped. "Savannah had nothing to do with this."
"Neither did Tristan," I told her. At least, not the part where his mother died.
But he had lost control and killed Dylan.
He turned his head to look at me, his eyes narrowing. I didn't lose control tonight.
I swallowed hard and looked away. "We can't go right now. Tell them Mom and Emily need us here."
"They will not care," Dad said.
"Fine. Then we'll go with you-" Mom began.
"No," Dad said. "I will not take you or Emily into my kind's territory. You will be safer here in the States for now. You will hide together in this RV in some remote park far from the Clann until we return."
Emily moved behind me and grabbed her brother's arm. "Please. Please don't do this. Tristan." She looked at him with pleading eyes. "Please don't go. You're all the family I've got left. What if you get there and they keep you prisoner or...or..."
Tristan looked at my dad. "What if we refuse to meet with the council?"
"Then they will consider us as having sided with the Clann and will treat us accordingly."
We would become enemies of both the Clann and the council.
Just like my parents had been for years before Mom couldn't handle the stress of a life spent on the run.
Tristan read my mind. He turned to his sister and rested his hands on her trembling shoulders. "Sis, I've got to go." She opened her mouth to protest. "I've got to get everything cleared up with the council. We can't be enemies of both sides, especially if war breaks out."
Tears spilled down Emily's cheeks as she stared at him for a long moment. Finally she nodded and stepped away.
"I will drive us to the airport," Dad said as he exited the trailer.
TRISTAN
Sav's dad coordinated everything by phone while driving us to the nearest airport. I didn't know where we were or which airport we'd be f lying out of, and I really didn't care.
All I could think about was the terrified look frozen by death on my mother's face...the same look of terror that had twisted Dylan's face, too, just before I'd thrown him across the living room of what had once been my home...the sound his spine had made as he crashed into the fireplace.
We all stayed in the trailer in silence during the fast and bumpy ride to the airport, then waited in the RV until Michael came back to the trailer to tell us it was time to go. I gave my sister one last hug. Her growing tummy bumped into me, a silent reminder of how vulnerable she was now. I hoped I would return in a couple of days to look out for her. Her words about how I was the only family she had left kept echoing inside my head.
Savannah hugged her mother in silence. Her mother was sobbing loudly and making no effort to hide her fear.
"Joan, we must not delay any longer," Michael murmured, and she reluctantly released their daughter. "Get as far north as fast as you can then find a state park or RV park somewhere to hide in." He pressed a credit card into Joan's hand. She scowled and opened her mouth to protest. "No, no arguments this time. At least give me this one small reassurance that you will have enough funds for anything you need in my absence. Do not let that foolish Evans pride further endanger yourself or Emily and her unborn child."
He stared hard into her eyes until Joan finally nodded.
I followed Savannah out of the trailer, Michael right on my heels until we were all down the metal steps. Then he took the lead toward a jet on the runway. A man at a side gate frantically waved at us to hurry over to him, then he slid the gate open just enough for us to slip through before shutting and locking it behind us. We jogged at a human pace behind the man in gray coveralls, across the tarmac and up to the jet's long line of white metal stairs.
Savannah paused for just a second to wave to her mother, wishing she could take away her mother's fear, wishing she wasn't afraid, too.
Then we boarded the plane and braced ourselves for the trial to come.
The last time we had walked through the maze of underground tunnels that led to the council's headquarters beneath the famed City of Love, I had been handcuffed and blindfolded. So I was looking forward to finally getting to see exactly what we'd been led through. Unfortunately, the council was still cautious as always, insisting we wear black blindfolds from the time we were picked up in a black sedan at the airport and later while we were led through the winding maze of tunnels, until Mr. Colbert stopped us outside the council's meeting room. Only then were we allowed to remove the blindfolds, which was pretty disappointing but understandable.
Then we stepped inside the meeting room and I was even more confused.
The cement block walls had been painted red and covered with old-fashioned-looking tapestries in an apparent attempt to spruce up the joint. But not much else had been done to hide the fact that this room was built primarily for security from outside attack. I'd expected something a little more lavish and a lot less fortress.
Then I looked at the long table draped with a red cloth. Behind it sat a line of nine very old, very ticked-off vampires.
The air became tinged with a bitter f lavor I could almost taste on my tongue, like some kind of mixture of crushed herbs and weeds.
Fear, Savannah thought, her gaze unwavering from the council. You are sensing their fear.
Of what? I thought.
Fear that the peace treaty with the Clann has failed. Fear of what is to come. But most of all, probably fear of us.
Huh. So the council was afraid of us. That seemed a good bit of info to store away for possible use later.
"Tristan Coleman and Savannah Colbert," the vampire in the middle greeted us with a somber tone. "You stand before the council today in order to report what has recently transpired within the Clann."
I decided to take the lead, because Savannah's heart was hammering so loudly I was sure the council could hear it even if they couldn't hear our thoughts. "Yes. We came here of our own free will to tell you about the death of..." Suddenly my throat choked shut.
"Of Nancy Coleman," Savannah finished, reaching out to take and squeeze my hand.
Quickly she related how my mother had invited us to dinner at her house, how we'd showed up to find the security gate and front door open and the house filled with smoke and descendants already attacking my family, and how we'd battled them in order to save Emily, though my mother had been beyond saving.
I worked to keep my face impassive and my breathing steady. But it was a challenge, because as she told them what had happened, I could see it all again within my mind...how the smoke had clawed at my eyes and throat and lungs, making it hard to see the descendants. And yet the adrenaline rush had made everything seem to move in slow motion, giving me far too much time to think and fear.
And then Savannah's scream from downstairs, running down with Emily to find her and Mom there in the living room...
Realizing that Mom was dead, that we were too late to save her...
Dylan hunched over her...
The crack of his bones when he hit the fireplace...
Tristan! Savannah thought so loudly it was practically a shout, shaking me from the memories. Did you hear them? They asked what happened to Dylan.
I cleared my throat. "Yes, Dylan Williams. He helped his father and several other descendants attack my family. When I first saw him in my-that is, my family's house-he was bent over my mother's body."
"And then?" the vampire in the middle prompted. He looked familiar. Then I recognized him. Of course. He was Caravass, the leader of the council, the vampire who had come with his council members to the Circle last year because another council member, Gowin, had led them there with lies meant to create a war.
I'd expected Caravass to be wearing some kind of goofy robes like a monk or something that would show off his position as leader of all the vampires in the world. Instead, he wore a crisp black suit with clean modern lines to it, paired with a navy blue shirt and silver tie. If not for the pale, superthin skin and color-changing eyes, which kept shifting every few seconds from icy white-gray to blue and then green, I might have had trouble recognizing him as a vamp.
Savannah, remembering the last time she had faced the vamp leader in this room, had no such trouble. She knew all too well exactly who he was and the power he wielded.
"And then I killed Dylan," Savannah blurted out.
I turned to stare at her. What are you doing?
You're my fledgling and my responsibility. I'll take the blame.
I silently cursed. Turning back to the council, I said, "No, I killed him."
"He's trying to take the blame for me, your...er, honors. But the truth is I lost control and killed him, and I'm really really sorry." Savannah had a death grip on my hand.
This was ridiculous. I opened my mouth to argue again.
Caravass raised a hand. "So what you are saying is that one of you two killed Dylan Williams after he and his father and their allies attacked your family and both of you, as well?"
"Yes, but it was me-" I started to say.
"I believe we have heard enough," Caravass said. "Please step outside while we deliberate."
"But-" I said.
"Outside now," Michael murmured, half turning and jerking his chin toward the door we'd come in through.
Savannah hesitated then tugged me toward the door, her dad's firm hand on my shoulder a second propeller pushing me to make my exit.
Growling under my breath, I stepped out into the tunnel, its curved walls and ceiling lit an eerie greenish hue by the f luorescent lights that ran along the ceiling for as far as the tunnel went until it turned at either end. The metal door to the council's chambers clanged shut behind Michael.
He turned to gape at it.
"What were you thinking in there?" I asked Savannah.
She rolled her eyes but didn't answer, either out loud or silently.
Women. Even when you could read their minds, they still managed to make no sense sometimes.
"Look, I don't care how much blood you gave me to turn me. That still doesn't make me or anything I do your responsibility."
I love you, she said silently, her chin poking out. If I have to lie to the council to save you, then that's what I'm going to do. I won't see them hurt you.
Oh, but it's okay for me to see them hurt you?
We were still glaring at each other when the door creaked open again and Caravass stepped out. He pulled the door shut behind him with a small smile.
"The council is in agreement. This Jim Williams has clearly staged a coup within the Clann. It was unfortunate that your human family was involved and you were forced to kill a descendant in self-defense. But you have been cleared of all wrongdoing against the Clann."
My family...involved? They were a heck of a lot more than just involved. My mother had been murdered! I crossed my arms and stared at him, my back teeth grinding together.
Easy, Tristan, Savannah thought, resting a hand on my upper arm. He doesn't understand. He thinks you probably hated your family for casting you out of the Clann. Not to mention he's like two thousand years old and doesn't even remember what it's like to have a human family in the first place.
I took a deep breath then let it out slow through my nose.
"Then we are free to go?" Michael asked.
"Soon. However, the council has asked for a...shall we say, show of good faith on your part?"
Michael froze.
I read the council leader's mind. "They want to know that we're on your side."
Caravass froze as well, losing all trace of humanity in the process. I'd seen wax figures at museums with more life to them. Finally he forced an attempt at a smile. "I forgot that you two are able to read all vampires' minds regardless of whether they are your elders." His Adam's apple worked as he swallowed. "I would prefer to discuss the council's...requests in a more comfortable venue, if you will permit."
We need to get back to Mom and Emily, Savannah thought, her fingers tightening on my arm.
I know. But Caravass and the council seem to be trying to play nice. For now. Let's see where he's going with these new demands. Maybe if they're not too bad and we can play along, we'll get out of here soon and keep the council off our backs. The last thing we need is to have both sides hunting us down in the middle of a war.
"Lead the way." I worked to make my tone and smile as diplomatic as I could, an accomplishment managed only by Dad's endless speeches and my brief stint as the Clann's leader.
"Wonderful! I promise you will not regret it." Caravass led us down the tunnel a few steps, then hesitated and turned back, his smile sheepish now. "Ah, I nearly neglected a bit of security measures. I deeply apologize, I realize this is completely inhospitable, but unfortunately it is also necessary to maintaining the secrecy of our humble chambers' location."
A nearby guard vamp blurred over to us with two blindfolds.
I held my smile in place. "Of course. Your caution is understandable now more than ever."
We allowed the older vamps to tie our blindfolds back into place before leading us out of the tunnels through a different route than before and back up to the street level. We were guided into a car, which smelled and felt like the same one that had picked us up from the airport. But this time, Caravass got into the front seat with the driver, and Mr. Colbert sat in the back on the other side of Savannah.
Caravass gave directions to the driver. Twenty minutes later, the car stopped.
The front passenger door opened then shut. Mr. Colbert got out, as well. Then he and Caravass helped Savannah and me out of the car, four steps over what felt like cobblestone and through a glass revolving door into some sort of building, gauging by the way the air pressure changed around us. A hand at my elbow-Caravass's, according to his thoughts- guided me forward across soft carpeting and through a wide opening of some kind into a room I could instantly tell was cavernous because of how every sound seemed to echo on and on. Ahead, a bit of light filtered through the black cloth over my eyes, and I could hear music and the murmur of voices.
"You may remove your blindfolds," Caravass murmured.
I pulled the blindfold off, felt Savannah do the same at my side, and then heard her gasp of pure delight.
We were in some sort of theater or opera house. Row upon row of red velvet seats spanned in every direction. When I looked behind us, I discovered there were two tiers of private boxes surrounding three sides of the huge space, which was crowned with a highly detailed central molding design Savannah was silently squeeing over. Ahead of us stretched the biggest stage I'd ever seen, even bigger than the Broadway stages my mother had dragged our family to in New York year after year.
And Savannah was in love.
I looked at her, with her hands pressed together before her parted lips, her eyes wide and darting from side to side as she watched the dancers rehearsing on the stage, and I was nearly hypnotized by the light shining out of her. For just a moment, she was so bright she made me forget all the darkness surrounding us.
Caravass smiled and spread his arms wide with the stage behind him. "Welcome to our hidden gem of an opera house, where our very own dance troupe will be performing tonight to what is sure to be a packed house."
"There's a vampire dance company?" Savannah's eyes had widened and she spoke fast. Even without the ability to read her mind or hear her now racing heartbeat, we all would have recognized how excited she was.
Caravass nodded, his smile finally managing to warm up his icy silver eyes. "And I would very much like it if you three would do me the honor of joining me in my private box for it."
Savannah's breath caught in her chest. Her dazzling smile melted like a candle sputtering out as her shoulders slumped, and inside myself I felt that empty, black pit that had taken over the moment I'd seen my mother's body once again open up and try to suck me down.
"Ah, we have loved ones back in the States who require our assistance in hiding before this Jim Williams is officially voted in as the new Clann leader," her father explained for us. "It is our sincere worry that as soon as he does so, he will waste no time in declaring war against our kind."
Caravass's eyes f lared wide then narrowed. "Is that so?"
Both Michael and I nodded.
"Mr. Williams is a real vamp hater," I added, fighting to separate Savannah's disappointment with my own feelings. "He'd love nothing more than to wipe every last one of us off the face of the planet if he can."
"Hmm." Caravass crossed one arm over his chest and tapped the index finger of his other hand against his mouth. "That is worrisome. But perhaps we could find some way to reach out to him and-"
I shook my head. "There's nothing anyone can say that's ever going to change his mind. He's what you'd call a hardcore racist against vamps."
Caravass sighed. "Then my worst fear has come true. After so many peaceful decades of working with your father and his father before him, I had so hoped we had managed to usher in a long-lasting era of peace. I will have to warn the council so that we can make preparations." He half turned, frowned at the stage then nodded. "Yes, I can see this evening's festivities must be cut short for everyone on our council. However, surely there is still enough time for you to at least meet the troupe before you go?" He addressed his question to Savannah.
She bit her lower lip and turned to her dad, and I could both feel and hear her yearning for his permission while also bracing for his denial due to lack of time. I had to forcibly stop myself from adding my own begging to hers as the mind connection once again blurred the lines between her feelings and mine.
Michael looked at her for two agonizing seconds, then nodded.
"Are you sure there's time?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper as hope shot her heartbeat into the stratosphere. He nodded again.
She made a tiny, closed-mouthed squeal through her nose and vamp blurred down the aisle to the edge of the stage. Caravass followed at her heels to introduce her to the troupe.
Her blast of happiness was like four shots of espresso injected straight into my veins, rocking me back on my heels and making my eyes snap wide-open.
Enjoy, my daughter, Michael thought as we watched her jump up onto the stage to meet each of the dancers. Enjoy while the world is still capable of allowing you to, for soon all dreaming will come to an end.
Onstage, the troupe's director began to teach Savannah part of a routine. Although she was hesitant at first from the habit of hiding her abilities around humans, her face was still filled with a childlike wonder. She was like a little girl opening presents on Christmas morning.
"You are among friends, Savannah," the troupe's director said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "On this stage, no vamp ever has to hide her gifts."
Savannah took a deep breath then gave it her all, performing the short piece of choreography as it was meant to be danced. She whirled so fast human eyes couldn't have possibly followed her, her wild red curls f lying out behind her and threatening to come loose from her ponytail holder in the process. Thinking of nothing but the choreography and ignoring her falling hair, she did some complicated little sequence of steps before launching herself into the air in a split leap that rose impossibly high. She seemed to hover there, almost making me believe vamps could f ly after all, before landing so lightly her feet didn't make a sound on the stage's wooden f loor.
In that instant I remembered the first time I'd caught her dancing in the Charmers dance room at our high school and how even then, not yet fully evolved as a vampire, she'd still moved with that same alien grace and lightness. It should have been my first hint that she wasn't completely human. But then, as now, she had only been my Savannah, so achingly beautiful that she literally robbed me of breath for a few seconds. God I loved her, and every time I thought I couldn't possibly love her more, she took my feelings for her to a whole new level.
I closed my eyes and immersed myself in her thoughts, forgetting who I was and concentrating only on what she thought and felt. As if her body were my own, I felt the way her blood rushed through her veins so fast that it seemed she really might be able to f ly right up to the ceiling and beyond.
And finally I understood what dancing meant to her. It was indescribable for a reason. I had to experience it with her through her own senses, filtered through her emotions, in order to truly get it. I'd always thought dancing for her was like playing football used to be for me, but it was completely different. For me, football had always been a challenge to prove myself to my teammates, my coaches and even my parents. It was about beating all the obstacles and pushing myself to my limits and beyond over and over again.
For Savannah, dancing was the complete opposite of all that. Instead of having to push toward or through something, she was letting go of everything. As she moved, she set herself free, allowing her body to do what came naturally. When she danced was when she stopped fighting.
And in that short moment as I forgot who I was and simply enjoyed Savannah's experience up on that stage with her, I learned how to stop fighting, too.
And then my skin exploded with the stabbings of a million tiny unseen needles a second before the entire city was rocked by a series of rumblings, first in the distance, then closer and closer toward the opera house.