CHAPTER 8


Emily finished talking to someone on her phone. Then she reached past me and touched her brother's shoulder.

"Oh God," she gasped. "Tristan, don't you dare die on me!" She yanked repeatedly at the door handle, her once smoothly styled French twist flying loose in all directions.

"Together on three," I told her, grabbing the windowsill of the door, ignoring bits of glass as they ground into my hands. "One, two, three."

We jerked as hard as we could, and the door burst open so quickly we landed on our butts in the grass. I scrambled to my feet, fighting the stupid heels as they sank into the soft dirt. Emily must have more practice with heels. She was already back at Tristan's side, her hand pressed to his shoulder again.

"We have to get him out," she muttered. "Then I can work on him better."

"Do you know what you're doing?" I asked. What if moving him made his injuries worse?

"We have to try. The ambulance won't be here for another five or ten minutes. And his pulse-"

"I know." I didn't want to hear her say what I already knew, that his heartbeat was way too weak. That we were losing him.

We couldn't lose him. I couldn't lose him. I didn't care if I couldn't be with him. I had to know he was alive in this world somewhere. Otherwise I'd go crazy.

"Okay, get his feet," I said as I grabbed his shoulders and tugged him toward me. Emily squeezed in between me and the door and freed his feet from the twisted frame and steering column.

Somehow we got Tristan out of the truck and onto the ground. I cradled his head in my lap, stroking the blood away from his forehead, while Emily knelt on her knees at his side.

"There's so much broken," she whispered.

"Please," I murmured, begging her, begging God, begging a universe that had been nothing but cruel to me, in the hope that maybe it would finally answer just one request.

Emily closed her eyes and pressed her hands to Tristan's chest as if she were about to do CPR. But she never pushed down. Instead, she sat perfectly still, her palms laid flat on the stained red and white shirt. The skin on my arms and the back of my neck erupted in prickles of pain far stronger than I'd ever felt before, even when Tristan was using magic while fighting Dylan. That had been a fire ant attack. This was like being in the middle of a swarm of really ticked off wasps. God, she was a strong witch. But was she strong enough?

If only I'd been allowed to learn how to use magic....

I bent over him, the pain in my chest my own now, the staggering force of it curling me over. Blood streamed from a gash in Tristan's forehead near his left temple, and the bloodlust was there in the distance, wanting my attention. But nothing could dull the sheer terror pounding through my veins now, not even the bloodlust.

"Please, Tristan, stay with me," I whispered against his forehead, my lips moving against the only clear area at his right temple, his hair brushing my nose and cheek.

And then I heard it. A strong, solid heartbeat, followed by more of the rapid, barely-there taps.

"Again, Emily," I whispered.

More pinpricks stabbing at my arms and neck as she ramped up the energy level.

Another strong heartbeat beneath my fingertips. And another. And another, each one evening out the rhythm into a steady pulse again.

Tears streamed down my face now. I looked up at her for confirmation, needing to know I wasn't imagining it.

"He's coming back!" she cried out, grinning.

"That's it, Tristan," I murmured, stroking bits of glass out of his hair. "Keep fighting. Come back to us." Come back to me.

Wailing in the distance. The ambulance was here. They pulled to a stop on the road, two figures jumping out from the cab to unload a gurney from the back end of the vehicle.

"He's going to be okay now, I think," Emily murmured. "A few stitches here and there and some broken bones that'll have to be reset, which I'm sure the Clann will help heal faster. But he'll be okay."

I held Tristan's right hand as the emergency workers wrapped a brace around his neck then got a stretcher under him so they could lift him up onto the gurney. When they carried him toward the van, I kept holding on, walking beside Tristan. He still hadn't woken up. I needed to see those green eyes looking back at me before I could be sure he'd be all right.

"Ma'am," one of the emergency workers said to me. "You have to let go so we can load him."

"I want to go with him."

Emily laid a hand on my forearm. "You can't. I called my parents. They're on the way to the hospital already. They'll be there waiting."

"I don't care. I have to go."

"You can't," Emily said, more firmly this time. "You know what will happen."

"Please," I begged her. "I have to know he'll be all right."

"He will be. But you have to let him go now." She leaned in close and whispered, "Please don't make me use magic on you to save you. I know you love him. I promise I'll call with updates."

At that moment, I almost hated her. But some more logical part of me made me let go of his hand and step away.

"What's your friend's number?" she asked as the emergency workers slid Tristan into the ambulance.

"What? Why?"

"Because I've got to follow them. You need someone to come pick you up."

I told her Anne's number, and she punched it in. She didn't have to say much before Anne agreed to come get me.

"She says she'll be here in ten minutes," Emily said after ending the call. "Now what's your number?"

I looked at her in confusion, my mind too focused on the closing ambulance doors to be able to process her question.

She touched my shoulder. "Savannah, I need your number so I can call you with updates."

"You'll really call me?" I asked.

A smile tugged at her lips. "I said I would, didn't I? Didn't Tristan ever tell you I always keep my promises?"

So I told her my number. Then I wondered where exactly I'd left my phone. Maybe Anne had it.

She punched the number into her phone. "Are you going to be okay till she gets here? Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No!" Panic made me nearly shout. The driver for the ambulance threw a quick glance over his shoulder as he climbed in behind the wheel. "No, please follow them." She would be my only contact at the hospital. My only way of knowing if Tristan got worse.

She hesitated then gave me a quick, fierce hug. "Hang in there. He's going to get better. Then he'll be right back to his usual spoiled-rotten self in no time. And, Savannah?"

The ambulance drove away, its taillights fading down the road toward town. "Mmm?"

"Thank you."

I looked at her then. "Thank me with updates."

"I will. I promise."

And then she was gone, her car's lights following the ambulance.

Suddenly I found myself in a field at night all alone with only Tristan's wrecked truck to keep me company. And yet I couldn't manage to dredge up a single ounce of fear. As long as Tristan was going to be okay, nothing else mattered much.

A bit of movement in the distance at the edge of the woods drew my attention. In the moonlight, it looked like a person entering the woods. The figure was too far away for me to make out details before the trees and the darkness swallowed it up. A neighbor come to watch the local drama? Probably.

My gaze dropped to the heap of metal between the tree line and where I was standing. I stumbled back to the totaled vehicle, stopping by the driver's side opening. Remembering the sight of Tristan slumped there unconscious and bleeding. As if they had a mind of their own, my fingers reached out to trail over the ripped leather headrest, and I shuddered.

I had nearly lost him tonight.

Anne found me there some time later. She touched my arm and gasped. "Sav, you're like ice! Are you okay? What's going on?"

"Tristan totaled his truck. Emily said he'll be okay."

"Come on, let's get you warmed up."

I followed her to the road where she'd left her truck running. We climbed inside, and she cranked up the heater as she headed back into town.

"Do you have my phone?" I asked, feeling numb from head to toe. I couldn't even feel the heat that my ears said was blasting out of the dashboard vents. "Emily promised to call with updates."

"Sure." She started to toss it to me, hesitated then just set it on the seat between us. I grabbed it between both hands and held it to my chest, vowing to sleep with the once hated device if necessary till I knew Tristan was okay again.

"I told the girls we'd meet them at the Sonic as planned," Anne said as she turned onto the main strip.

I glanced at the clock on the radio and was shocked to see that it was nearly time for the dance to be over. How long had Emily and I worked in that field to save Tristan?

I could feel Anne's curiosity like a steady hum as she drove. But she managed to hold her questions at bay until we found a parking space at the Sonic and she placed an order large enough to sink a ship.

"Want anything?" she asked.

"A Coke float would be good." It was all I figured I'd be able to keep down, as bad as my stomach was twisting. Mom always claimed the combination of acid and dairy products in a Coke float could balance out any upset stomach. I was about to put her theory to the test.

Anne kept the heater blasting until after the food arrived. Then she turned it off. "Sorry, but I'm dying here. Are you still cold?"

I honestly couldn't tell. I was always cold lately. "I'm fine, thanks. And thanks for coming to get me and everything."

"No problem. But could you at least tell me what the heck is going on? You took off with Emily like a pair of bats out of Hades. Next thing I know, she's calling me and asking me to come pick you up from some field in the middle of nowhere by Tristan's wrecked truck. I didn't know you two were even friends."

"We're not. Not really. I just..." Oh lord. I was a crappy liar on the best of days. How in the world would I ever even begin to tell a lie well enough to cover up tonight's events?

I rested my head on the seat's headrest and closed my eyes, my earlier exhaustion returning with a vengeance. I was so done with all of this. The secret keeping, the loneliness, the guilt. I just couldn't handle it anymore. Maybe Carrie and Michelle didn't need to know. Carrie would never believe me anyways, and Michelle would end up accidentally blurting it out to someone someday. But Anne was like the Fort Knox of secrets. She'd never once betrayed someone's secret, no matter how mad she might be at them.

So I told her the truth. "I'm half vampire, half witch."