I had to read it three times, twice to get over the numerous injuries listed, and a third time to make sure I'd read the last part right. The phone's plastic case creaked in warning as I gripped it too tightly.

Brake failure. Just like Dylan had oh-so-casually suggested.

Could he really be behind it?

He could have heard about it from someone else in the Clann, or even from someone at the sheriff's department and used the rumor to mess with me, as Anne had suggested.

But if Dylan hadn't tampered with Tristan's brakes, then why had they failed?

An image flashed through my mind of a dark silhouette ducking into the woods after Tristan's wreck. Could it have been Dylan?

But how would he know where and when the brakes would give out?

Anne was right. Dylan probably wasn't that smart.

Unless he was smart enough to pretend he wasn't.

Okay, this was getting ridiculous and giving me a headache. I was just being paranoid. Brakes failed all the time, right?

In a relatively new, perfectly maintained truck? Sure they did.

I got dressed in the bathroom across the hall, then gathered up my things as quietly as I could. The girls must have stayed up pretty late last night after I conked out; Michelle and Anne always snored, but Carrie didn't usually unless she was pretty tired. All three were sawing the logs loudly this morning.

I carefully stepped over Michelle and Carrie on the floor and tapped Anne on the tip of her nose where she was ticklish.

"Mmph?" she asked, one eye cracking open as her hand flopped up to rub her nose.

"I've gotta go. Family stuff."

"Mmkay," she muttered.

I started to turn away, then remembered. "Oh, can I ask you a huge favor? Could you burn my dress for me please?"

Her eyes squinted open at that. "Huh?"

I checked to make sure Michelle and Carrie were still snoring, then whispered, "It's got you-know-who's blood all over it." It was black so you couldn't really see the bloodstains. But if I brought it home, Dad would definitely smell the blood and know I'd been around Tristan right after his wreck.

Her nose wrinkled. "Well, that sucks."

I started to reply, then caught her grin. Vampire jokes. "Oh ha ha. Think you're funny?" Grabbing the corner of her pillow, I gave it a quick jerk out from under her head, then dropped it on her face.

Her snicker, along with her promise to get rid of the evidence, came out muffled.

As I eased out the front door and down the sidewalk to my truck, I tried to hold on to last night's sense of relief and gratitude that Tristan was okay. But those question marks at the end of Emily's message kept bugging me.

Tristan had nearly died last night. If Emily and I hadn't gotten there in time, or if Emily hadn't known how to heal him, he would have.

Could someone actually have tried to kill him? And if they had, would they try again?

When I arrived home, Dad was waiting for me in the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate. He must have nuked it as soon as he heard the sound of my truck in the driveway.

"Thanks," I said and took a sip, grateful for the warmth. Then I peeked at him over the cup. "Did you hear about the wreck?"

He nodded. "I have a connection at the hospital."

I didn't even want to know what for. I focused instead on keeping my tone calm and even. "Emily texted me this morning. She said he's okay other than a few stitches and some broken bones the Clann will help to heal faster. But he said his brakes failed and that's why his truck wouldn't slow down for the curve in the road. Also, there might have been somebody in the distance, watching."

It wasn't a lie. I just didn't clarify who actually saw the watcher in the distance. Everything Dad knew, the vamp council would too the next time he was called to Paris to report to them. They would read his mind and pick up everything whether he wanted them to know it or not.

If Dad suspected I wasn't telling him everything, he chose not to question it.

"This is disturbing news," he muttered. "Is there any reason to believe the brake failure was an accident?"

"Emily doesn't seem to think so. Tristan's truck was new, and he was serious about taking care of it." He'd even nagged me a few times about getting my truck's oil changed for winter. "If the brakes quit working, it's either some kind of manufacturing problem, or..."

"Or someone is attempting to start another war," Dad finished, going still as only the older vamps could. "I will alert the council."

He disappeared into the living room. I stayed in the kitchen at the small table, letting the heat from my mug seep into my hands. I was so tired of being cold all the time.

He caught me shivering when he returned to the kitchen. "Cold?"

I nodded. "I was thinking of getting a little heater for my room."

"You are anemic. It is a symptom of the change. We must train you how to hunt and feed soon."

The small amount of hot chocolate in my stomach threatened to make a comeback. "Gross, Dad. Forget it. I'm never going to...feed." Even saying the word was utterly repulsive.

"Savannah, it is what you were born to do."

Yeah, thanks to him and Mom deciding to break the rules and hook up.

He sighed. It was one of the few human things he still did. "Resisting your nature is both foolish and unnecessarily dangerous to any human you come into contact with."

"Giving in to my vamp side is what's dangerous," I argued. "I don't need blood to survive. I'm still half human." So far.

"And yet you continue to lose weight," he said.

"So my jeans are a little loose lately. It's just stress. I'll gain it back soon."

"Not if you do not obtain the proper nourishment to meet your body's changing needs."

"They're not changing. I'm fine eating regular food still." I tried to put on my best poker face. Like I even had one.

"What do you eat, precisely? And do not attempt to lie to me anymore. I have seen the food stores in our kitchen, as well as how little you spend on lunch each day. Why do you think I encouraged you to shop for your own groceries? You are free to buy anything you wish to eat, and yet you still eat nothing."

Stupid credit card receipts. I should have known he would use any and all means to watch me.

I drew in a breath through my nose, held it, then let it out slowly so I wouldn't give in to the urge to throw a tantrum like a kindergartner. "If you're going to spy on everything I do, you can have the credit card back."

"It is for your own safety. And others'. Or do you intend your first victims to be your friends?"

"Of course not!"

"They will be, unless you take better care of yourself. Your body will force you to find nourishment sooner or later. Either you choose what that nourishment is, or it will decide for you."

"Fine," I snapped. "I'll try to eat better, okay? But human food only."

"Why do you have to try? Is it not easy for you to eat?"

I stared down at my still mostly full mug. A few months ago, I would have chugged it down in a matter of seconds. "Everything smells gross lately."

"It is another symptom. Soon you will have the bloodlust for humans as well as descendants."

I really didn't want to hear it. "Do we have to talk about this right now?"

"You cannot run from what you are, Savannah."

"I can try," I grumbled.

"You will fail. And when you do, innocents will be harmed, and you will never be able to forgive yourself."

I glanced up at him. "You sound like you're talking from experience."

He didn't reply, which meant the answer was yes.

So my seemingly perfect dad had screwed up once or twice, too. That was both disturbing and comforting in a weird way. If he hadn't always been perfect, then he couldn't expect me to be perfect, either.

"You must face the facts. You are unique with unique needs."

"How can I forget it, what with you and Mom and the Clann's constant reminders." My hot chocolate had gone cold. I jumped to my feet to reheat it in the microwave.

"Reminders?"

"Savannah, how are you feeling?" I deepened my voice to mimic him. "Savannah, how was your day? Anything strange happen today, Savannah?" The microwave dinged. I grabbed my mug, set it on the counter, jerked the silverware drawer open to get a spoon, and the drawer handle came off in my hand.

Growling, I held out the flimsy hardware to him. He accepted it without a hint of surprise.

"Stupid knob. That's twice since yesterday!" I muttered as I grabbed a spoon then hip bumped the offending drawer shut again.

"Your strength is increasing. We will need to practice hiding it when you are in public."

"Forgive me if I don't jump at the chance to play vampire." Maybe extra marshmallows would make the hot chocolate taste better. I dug through the pantry for them.

Suddenly Dad was standing beside me, his white-silver eyes boring into mine. "You cannot play at what you are. Like it or not, your vampire side is growing stronger. You are my daughter and my responsibility. I will see to it that you learn how to survive in this world we are forced to deal with. You will learn how to feed properly and safely. And you will learn how to control your abilities enough to blend in with human society. I will not see you killed by the council or turned into some sort of lab experiment by humans because I loved you too much, gave in to your wishes and neglected to teach you how to evade detection."

Yeesh! I'd never seen Dad furious before. He was pretty darn impressive at it. I swallowed hard. "Fine. Whatever makes you happy, sir." I mimicked a little salute.

"What would make me happy is if you start your training right now."

"Now?" I squeaked. I'd been awake for barely an hour. And it was a Sunday. Couldn't I go to my room and chill out for a while first?

"Now." He pointed at the living room.

Grumbling about dictatorial control freak vampires, I stomped into the living room. I turned and faced him, my arms crossed over my chest.

"Teenagers," he muttered before doing that annoying vamp blur thing to reappear a couple of feet away from me.

"Are you going to teach me how to do that, too?" I asked, only half sarcastic now.

"Actually, I am going to teach you how not to do that. At least, not without deciding to. Moving faster than the human eye can see will come with time and feeding, along with steadily increased strength, whether you want these abilities or not. The point of our training will be to teach your body how to retain control and self-discipline so that you do not accidentally reveal how fast and strong you are around humans."

I groaned. Why did my parents always have to take the cool out of everything? I was half witch, but no one would let me learn to use magic. Now I was becoming a vamp, and no one wanted me to have fun with that, either!

"Fine. So then what, I just practice moving slow and acting weak all the time?" I made my voice as high as it would go and batted my eyelashes. "Oh no, this bag is just too heavy. Won't someone please help me carry it?" I reverted back to my normal voice with a grin. "Easy. Done. Training's over."

Dad glared at me. "Ignoring what will soon come naturally to your vampire body is not going to be so easy. You will have to be vigilant not to give away your true abilities. The best way to remember to do that is to make it a habit for your body to move slowly. It will feel awkward at first, so you must practice to allow your body to grow accustomed to the sensation. We will also work on teaching your muscles using kinetic memory."

I stared at him, completely lost now. "Connecticut what?"

"Kinetic memory. You have not heard of this?" His eyebrows shot up. "Dancers use it all the time. Your muscles have their own memory. If you repeat the same motions often enough, your muscles will begin to remember those movements for you. Then your mind will have to remember less for you, and moving humanly slow will once again feel natural to you."

I sighed. "If you say so. So what, I just pretend to be a mime and do everything in slow motion?"

One corner of his lips twitched. "I was thinking more along the lines of tai chi."

I stared at him. "Isn't that what old people do in the park?"

"People of all ages practice tai chi as a way to focus and quiet their minds while teaching their bodies to have control and self-discipline." He sounded a little huffy. Did vamps ever get self-conscious about their real age?

Then I thought about what he'd said. Control over my body. Now that I could get excited about. "All right. What do I do?"

* * *

We trained for two hours, slowly going through several tai chi moves that became almost like a dance routine. Well, a really flat-footed ballet routine, maybe. Still, there was something soothing about tai chi, even if it was a little strange at first.

It reminded me of when I first started taking dance in the ninth grade, before my vamp abilities began to develop and the vamp council banned me from dancing in front of others. Of course, I had a lot more grace now. But it was still new and awkward, learning the precise positioning of each move and trying to teach my body how to go through the new motions far slower than it wanted to. The challenge of it had the added benefit of taking my mind off other things.

And my mind could definitely use a break.

We stopped for lunch. I wanted to skip it, but Dad insisted we experiment with fruits and steamed vegetables I normally wouldn't consider eating much of. Since I refused to drink blood, he seemed bound and determined to find the healthiest human food I could stand to eat and then fill me up with a week's worth of it.

It wasn't all bad, though. I discovered that my new favorite foods were canned pears and steamed carrots. Their soft textures didn't hurt my extra-sensitive teeth, which seemed to ache all the time lately, and their flavors were subtle enough not to send my stomach into immediate revolt. I also found I could stand vegetable juice, though it had to be watered down so it wouldn't make my taste buds scream in pain.

Apparently vampires had extremely delicate palates.

We practiced more tai chi after lunch, focusing on breathing techniques this time, and the hours somehow slipped by unnoticed.

"Thanks, Dad," I murmured as the light streaming in through the wooden blinds at the living room windows began to turn more orange and fade. "I really needed this."

He returned my smile with a gentle one of his own, looking for a brief moment like any other human father might. "You are more than welcome. Tai chi has always brought me great peace when I needed it most. I can only hope it provides you the same." He glanced at the darkening world beyond the windows. "Unfortunately we will have to conclude today's training now. It is growing late and I have not fed in a week, so I must leave for a while."

Peaceful feeling gone.

He talked about feeding on some poor person as casually as if he were mentioning that he needed to make a quick run to the grocery store. Even if that person was a so-called evil-doer, as he referred to them, it was still wrong to go shopping for a blood donor like it was no big deal.

I went to my room, put on my headphones, cranked up the music and tried not to think about my dad and his "grocery shopping." Or how I might end up just like that soon.