Covet (14 page)

I straightened up, the edges of the seat belt digging into my hands as I clutched it. “How did you know—”

“Everybody knows,” he said. Darkness emanated from him like a bad cologne, making me want to shrink away. Somehow I managed not to flinch. “Rumor has it that Romeo tried to off himself inside his truck tonight.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” I said, trying to sound confident.

Dylan shrugged. “Rumor also has it that his brakes might have failed.”

Everything inside me went still. “Who told you that?”

“Oh, a little birdie.” He smiled.

An awful thought came to me then. “Did you do something to his truck?” I leaned toward him now, ready to grab him by the throat if he said yes.

His eyebrows shot up, and he drawled, “Now why would I do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re evil,” Anne said.

He stared at her over my shoulder. “Be careful or you might find out just how evil I can be, Albright.”

Was he threatening my best friend?

I would kill him.

I reached for my seat belt, so mad I couldn’t get the stupid buckle to work. “If you so much as—”

He laughed. “That’s right, Colbert. Now you’re getting a clue.” He leaned in close and whispered, “So why don’t you just leave town before anything else bad happens to someone you care about?”

“Oh please,” Anne said. “Do you really think you’re scaring anyone?”

His gaze flicked to her. He smiled slowly. “You know, I’m really looking forward to school next year. It’s going to be fun teaching you to respect the Clann.”

On pure instinct, I reached out, intending to grab him, slap him, something. I couldn’t even see straight, I was so furious.

Laughing, he dodged my hand then turned and strolled back across the raised cement area between the rows of vehicles to his own car.

I would
kill
him. I would find a way and I would rip his throat out. If he’d hurt Tristan tonight… And he’d just threatened to hurt Anne next…

Dimly I heard someone saying my name, felt someone grab my wrist.

“Savannah! You’re going to break the seat belt!”

I blinked a few times, turned toward the voice, found Anne biting her lower lip as she tugged at my hands, which were still scrabbling at my seat belt buckle.

“Whew! When did you get such a temper? I thought I was the one who needed anger management courses around here.” She grinned.

I stared at her. “Did he just say that he was responsible for Tristan’s accident tonight, or was I hearing things?”

Her smile faded. “I think he was just messing with you about that. He’s a piss-ant, nothing more. He’s not smart enough to attempt murder without killing himself in the process. Can you see him even figuring out where the brake lines on a truck are? He’d probably wind up rolling the truck over himself if he even tried looking for them.”

“But he did threaten to hurt you,” I said. “You heard him say
that
at least, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh please. He’s all talk and no bite. Besides, if he did try to come after me, I’d just shoot him with my new bow and arrows.”

Did I hear her right? “Uh, bow and arrows?”

“Yeah. My grandpa sent me the newest pro series Firestorm compound bow for turkey season. I’ve been dying to try it out.”

“Since when did you take up bow hunting?”

“Since I was five. It’s a family thing. My grandpa owns a company that manufactures them. Don’t you remember me talking about it? I must have mentioned it at least a thousand times by now.”

I vaguely remembered her grossing us all out at lunch with stories about deer hunting every November with her uncle. I definitely remembered her mentioning that deer hunting included dousing herself in deer urine. But I sure didn’t remember her ever mentioning what kind of weapons they used. “I knew you like to hunt, just not with bows and arrows. Isn’t that kind of…old-fashioned? Why not just use a gun?”

She took a long, deep breath. “Oh dear lord. Promise me you’ll never say that again. First off, no one goes hunting with a gun. Guns are for hunting
people
. Rifles are for hunting
animals
. And secondly, my grandpa would skin me alive if he ever heard I was using anything other than a compound bow made by his company. Besides, compound bows are more fun to use than a rifle and a heck of a lot harder to shoot yourself with.” Her face wrinkled into a frown. “Though I guess if you were a complete idiot you might accidentally shoot yourself in the foot. Or if you had the worst luck on the planet, a crappy shaft could explode and stab you through the hand. And of course you have to use proper technique so you don’t derail the string and kill your arm or take out an eyeball or something…”

Before she could get any further on a roll here, I jumped in while I still could. “Has your grandpa’s company been making bows a long time?”

“Yep, going on forty years now. Want to see some pictures?” Before I could answer, she dove across the seat, opened the glove compartment and rooted around until she found a catalog. “Check out my new Firestorm.” She jabbed a finger at a page. “Isn’t it awesome? Mine’s black, though. I’m gonna call it the Black Widow. I can’t wait to take it on night hunts for wild hog.”

She had to be joking. “Er…wild hogs?”

She nodded quickly several times, her eyes round. “The durn things are taking over everywhere! They’re a total menace, which is why you can hunt them all year round without a license. Uncle Danny and I already went on a couple of hunts this year, mainly just to scout out the local population, and nearly got ourselves killed the first time out. Those hogs are crazy aggressive.”

I studied the complicated-looking device in the catalog. Compound bows weren’t anything like what I’d expected a bow to look like, consisting of a futuristic design with a lot of holes for the main part. At each end of the main section were even stranger looking pulleys and not one but three strings stretching between them. It looked like something out of an
Aliens
movie. How did one even go about
shooting
this thing?

I flipped through a few pages and had to stop as the color of one particular design leapt off the catalog page. “They make them in pink camo?”

She grinned. “Yep, that’s one of the Rookie models. I had one kind of like that for my first bow.”

I tried to visualize a preschool aged Anne running through a field with a giant hot pink compound bow and shooting arrows as Dylan ran away screaming like a little girl. A reluctant half smile loosened the muscles in my jaw. Now that would be fun to see. Unfortunately, in real life Dylan would never run away. He’d just stand there and hit her with a magically produced fireball or something.

I handed the catalog back to her, my attempt at a smile fading. “Listen, Anne, you really should be careful. I know you think you’re tough enough to handle anything Dylan might throw at you. But the Clann…they’re way more powerful than you realize. Even Dylan’s got a few tricks up his sleeve that a compound bow probably wouldn’t be much use against.”

“Pfft. Bring it on. I’d like to see him try. He’d never even see or hear me before it was too late.”

She pretended to hold a bow in her left hand and pull back an imaginary arrow with her right. She made a short whooshing sound, apparently to simulate releasing the arrow, followed by a soft whistle and a grin.

I shook my head and sighed. Anne already knew the Clann could do magic. She’d heard the rumors right along with everyone else in Jacksonville. And she’d even seen some of their spells’ smaller effects when she helped Tristan hide charms in my duffel bag and locker to block my gaze daze victims’ stalking attempts last year. But what she hadn’t seen was just how quickly descendants could throw power at people to knock them off their feet and even almost kill them.

If she’d been there the night Tristan and Dylan had gotten into a magic fight, she wouldn’t be so quick to wave off my warning now.

Michelle and Carrie pulled up beside us a few minutes later with their dates. The driver’s side window was down, and I heard them saying my name then something about Tristan and Emily and a car wreck. Hot news spread fast in Jacksonville, and no topic was hotter than Tristan.

Carrie glanced up at me, grabbed Michelle’s hand, and they both turned pink.

“Um, what do you guys want to eat?” Carrie said to everyone in the car.

While they placed their order, I checked my phone for missed calls or messages. Nothing yet. Just to be sure, I double-checked the signal. Maybe Emily hadn’t had a chance to go somewhere private and call me?

When the food arrived for Carrie and Michelle’s car, Anne got out to bug them through the passenger windows while they tried to eat. But I was rooted to the seat with worry.

Emily should have sent an update by now. What was happening at the hospital with Tristan? Was he going to be okay? Maybe no news meant he was still undergoing X-rays or something. Unless…

No, I refused to think like that. He was going to be all right. He had to. Emily had done enough to keep him alive until he could get to the hospital and the Clann could take over. And there was no way they would allow their future leader to die.

But that didn’t mean a few descendants might not still want Tristan out of their way. And if anyone had a motive for wanting to hurt Tristan, it was Dylan. What had he said the night he’d caught Tristan and me kissing after Charmers practice? Something about how the pictures he was taking of us would ensure the Clann would remove Tristan’s dad as Clann leader.

Sounded like a motive to me.

Part of me agreed with Anne. Dylan seemed way too stupid to manage something as complicated as messing with someone’s brake lines. Then again, maybe he’d finally discovered how to use the internet or read a book. Miracles could happen, especially for someone as driven as Dylan. He was dedicated to getting Tristan’s family ousted as the Clann leaders, enough to get into a spell fight with Tristan on school grounds and nearly kill him in the process. How much further would he have really had to go to tamper with Tristan’s truck tonight?

And if he was capable of messing with Tristan’s truck, then he was also more than capable of going after someone else. Someone outside of the Clann without any power. Someone like Anne, whose working parents had few if any political connections around here.

What if his idle threat had really been a promise to try to hurt her next year?

I had to find a way to protect both Tristan and Anne.

If I’d only grown up learning how to use magic like the rest of the descendants, I could make protection charms for them. I could also help heal Tristan, if only from a distance.

But I couldn’t protect or help anyone, because my mother and grandmother had promised the Clann that they would never teach me to do magic.

Which seemed incredibly unfair. Why shouldn’t I be allowed to use an ability I was supposedly born with? If I did have any of the Evans magic in my blood, then it was as much a part of me as having two hands and two feet!

Dylan and the Brat Twins only messed with me and my friends because they knew my family had promised never to teach me how to protect myself against them.

Then again, Mom and Nanna had made that promise.
I
never did.

If only I had access to some spell books…

“Finally!” Anne said as she helped Carrie and Michelle and their dates throw away their trash. Then she hopped back into her truck and started the engine. “Time to party!”

Half an hour later and minus Carrie’s and Michelle’s dates, we all crowded into Anne’s room in our PJ’s and settled in for a movie fest. Thankfully the girls chose a comedy instead of their usual romantic favorites, and they pretended not to notice my phone attached to my hand all night.

Emily texted at eleven to say Tristan was okay and sleeping peacefully. Finally I could breathe deeply again. It was going to be all right. I still didn’t know how to protect him or Anne from Dylan. But Tristan was alive and recovering. For now, that was enough.

As my friends alternated between laughter and gasps over the movie, I let their happiness soothe my raw nerves. It was the first time I’d found a good use for my usually annoying ability to sense others’ emotions. Slowly but surely, the tension eased out of my neck and shoulders, and I found I could even smile sincerely again.

When I’d watched the ambulance take Tristan away, I had thought I would never survive the night. At the very least, I’d expected to pace for hours alone in my bedroom, sick with worry and fear. No way would I have imagined spending the rest of the night in my comfy cotton pajamas with my three best friends, huddled around the TV in Anne’s bedroom, alternately groaning or grinning over a movie about a crazy bunch of bling-wearing, Segway-riding vamps. And yet, that’s exactly how one of the hardest nights of my life ended.

Tonight, I had faced my two greatest fears. Almost losing Tristan had shown me that, as long as he was alive somewhere on this earth, I could survive pretty much anything else the world had to throw at me. It had given me the courage to face my second biggest fear and tell my best friend the truth, something that I’d been too scared to even attempt for over a year now. And I’d discovered that Anne was capable of being a far greater friend than I’d ever given her credit for.

The resulting relief meant, instead of being able to outlast everyone like I usually did, this time I was the first one to crash, my phone still clutched like a magical talisman in my hands under my pillow. I thought I felt Anne throw a comforter over me at some point, which made me smile. Who knew she had a mothering bone in her body? Then I was out cold.

* * *

A buzzing in my hand woke me the next morning at eight-thirty. Emily’s text message read:

24 stitches on head, 26 staples on lft. arm, 2 brkn ribs, lft. leg brkn 2 places reset & cast, lft. wrist brkn reset & cast. T pretty as ever. Says brakes failed???

CHAPTER 10

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.