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 ubercreepy. I couldn't remember the last time I'd even seen them all in the same room together, much less doing that annoying wordless-communication thing with their eyes that all adults seemed to love to do.

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

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

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

"Because I was sick for a day or two?"

"Try five," Nanna said.

I was sick for five days? "That was some flu."

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

"Changing. Meaning...?"

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, that made it all better.

Nanna added, "This gives them the ability to get energy two ways...through the traditional methods-"

"Blood. You're saying you...you drink blood?" I gulped, looking at Dad.

He nodded. "We can also take energy through a kiss."

"Energy from a kiss." My voice came out flat.

They were all nuts.

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

Mom frowned. "Sweetie, don't you have any questions?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, of course you won't turn into Carrie." Mom laughed. "Because we won't be teaching you magic."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mom glared at her. "That wasn't an accident. Now if I'd set the kitchen on fire..."

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

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

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

Nanna grunted. "Now, whether the elders actually kept that promise..."

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

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

Jacksonville's gossip grapevine had it right, then. "So the Clann are all witches. Like a coven."

Mom and Nanna both nodded.

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

Holy heck. Tristan was a witch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So there are others like me?"

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

"Because...?"

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

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

"But you didn't," I said to him. "Why?"

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

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

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

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

"Well, I could, but-"

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

"So I'm supposed to...to just deal with it?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh, not that I'm exactly friends with any of them any ways, but...why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Joan, I must go." Something dark edged at Dad's tone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My vampire father.

Holy crap.