Crave (4 page)

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.

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?