Covet (34 page)

Mom grinned down at the dog, stroking the long glossy hair at the back of its head. In an apparent attempt to make the thing cute, a pink-and-brown polka-dotted bow held up a tuft of hair between its pointy ears. The bow was now in danger of falling off due to the energy the dog was throwing into its every bark.

“She just needs to get used to you,” Mom said, raising her voice to be heard over the barking. “She’s usually a real sweetheart! Your dad and I went halvsies on the fee for her, but I picked her out myself at the breeders’. She’s a purebred Yorkie.”

More like a purebred demon spawn from Hell. “That’s great.”

“Want to hold her?”

Which was like saying Do you want to have your fingers chewed off?

“Um, maybe we should let her settle down first.”

“Okay.” Mom moved to sit on the couch. Holding the dog to her chest with one arm, she freed the other to pat the seat beside her. “Come catch me up on everything. Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Keeping an eye on the dog as its beady black eyes watched my every move, I sat down across from Mom.

The demon dog switched from barking to snarling. “She’s really lovely.”

“Isn’t she the best?” Mom beamed down at the dog, raising it up to her face. My heart stopped as visions of the thing gnawing off her nose raced through my mind. But it only licked her cheek, then returned to growling at me. “She’s such a good protector. And a great little friend to have around, too. I’ve gotta admit, I’m going to miss her company. But at least I can always come for a visit with both my girls, right?”

“Right.” I tried to imagine that furry thing in my house. It would probably either claim the underside of the couch as its own, biting the ankles of all who passed by, or else it would wait under my bed like an assassin, waiting for me to enter my bedroom unsuspecting.

Of course, there was always that face-eating option when I was asleep and at my most vulnerable, too.

“So whose idea was it?” I asked.

“Your father’s. He called me a couple of days ago and asked if I could pick out a toy-size dog for you. He let me choose the breed and everything!”

Dad had suggested they get me a dog? That must mean vamps didn’t terrify all dogs. Just this one. Either that, or there was something else specifically about me that it hated.

“You should hold out a hand, let her get used to your smell,” Mom said.

Everything inside me said, Oh heck no!

“Go on,” Mom said.

Holding my breath, I slowly inched a hand out toward them, Mom all encouraging smiles, the dog all bared teeth and eyes full of don’t you dare. When my hand was inches away, the dog tried to lunge out of Mom’s arms and bite me. Only my vamp reflexes saved me from losing who knew how many fingers.

Holy crap.

Mom frowned and tapped the dog’s nose with her finger, which I guessed passed for punishment. “Lucy, no! You have to be nice to your new mommy so she’ll love you.”

“Er, Mom, I was thinking…I’m so busy with homework and Charmers and tai chi training, I wouldn’t really have time for a pet right now. I mean, she’s cute and all…” The demon dog growled louder. “But she’d be alone most of the time. Maybe you could keep her for me, just for a while till my schedule settles down?”

“Oh, sort of like Grandma babysitting her grandbaby?” Mom looked down at the furball and crooned, “Would you like to stay with your meemaw? Would you?” It licked the end of her nose several times, and I tried not to barf. “You would, wouldn’t you? Aww, Lucy loves her meemaw!” Mom raised her head, all smiles. “I think that’s a great idea! She can keep me company, and the minute you’re ready for her, you just give me a call and we’ll be here in a flash.”

Right. Don’t hold your breath for that one. “Thanks, Mom.” I started to lean forward and hug her, nearly forgetting the demon dog. It snapped a reminder at me, and I darted back.

She put the dog in her bedroom again so we could talk in relative peace, though it kept yapping from behind the closed door. We talked for an hour, getting caught up on Mom’s work gossip and what little news I could pass on about Anne and Ron’s breakup, which Mom had been following like a soap opera via updates from me every time she called.

“That Ron Abernathy boy…he’s a good friend to you?” she asked oh-so-casually.

Misunderstanding her tone, I laughed. “I have no interest in dating Anne’s ex. He and I are friends and study buddies for chem and English lit, but that’s all.”

“Ah. So you’re pretty good friends then.”

I shrugged. “Mostly we talk about homework and chem labs and Anne. He’s still in love with her, I think. And she’s definitely still hung up on him, though she’d rather die than admit it. I’m hoping they’ll get back together eventually.”

“Well, he’s a pretty good friend for you to have around.” Her tone was all approval. “I’m glad you reached out to him.”

Whatever. I still wasn’t going to date him, no matter how much Mom not-so-subtly nudged me in that direction.

When it got late, I reluctantly hugged Mom goodbye, thanked her for “watching my gift,” then headed back into the house. Gowin had left. I found Dad alone in the kitchen taking down the decorations.

I jumped in to help, and he tried to wave me off. “It is a school night. You should get some rest.”

“It’s not that late. And the least I can do is help the host clean up after my surprise party. Thanks for throwing it, by the way.”

He nodded and smiled. “I am glad I could finally be a part of your birthday party celebrations. So how did you like your surprise gift?”

Knowing he expected the truth and wouldn’t get offended, I didn’t hesitate to answer. “Oh lord. Dad, that thing is a demon dog. It hates me!” Hastily I added, “But don’t tell Mom, okay? She thinks I’m letting her keep it because my schedule’s too busy for a pet.”

One corner of Dad’s mouth twitched. “I thought that might happen.”

“Really? Why?”

“You are half vampire. Animals do not generally take to us all that well. They sense the predator within us.”

“And yet you suggested Mom get me a dog.” Then I read the truth in his mind. “It was never really for me, was it?”

Dad shrugged. “Your mother has always wanted a little dog. But her pride has never allowed her to buy one. She felt having one would be too much of a personal indulgence. However, her tone when she calls you has held a certain note of loneliness of late, and she is in need of some protection while on the road. A small dog seemed the perfect solution. So I simply…manufactured an opportunity for her to finally have one at half the cost.”

“Why not just buy her one and be upfront about it?”

“She would never accept such a gift from me. She would not even allow me to pay for the dog outright when it was supposed to be your gift.”

“Yeah, she mentioned you two went in on it together.” Leaning a hip on the counter, I crossed my arms and studied him. “You still love her, don’t you?”

He did not look at me, intently focused on taking down the crepe paper looped through the antique chandelier over the banquet. “Love does not necessarily die just because the other person involved no longer wishes to be with you.”

A wave of longing swept over me, so intense I couldn’t tell if it was my father’s heartbreak or my own I was feeling.

Swallowing hard, I said, “You know, I think I’m tired after all. I’m going to bed.”

“Good night, Savannah. And happy birthday.”

On the way out of the kitchen, I spotted Gowin’s gift on the counter, still gleaming in its silver-and-pink wrapping. After a couple seconds’ hesitation, I grabbed the box of high-tech gear and took it upstairs. At least I had one birthday gift that wouldn’t try to eat me.

* * *

As soon as my dreams began later that night, I found myself in Tristan’s backyard.

I looked around, knowing he had to be here somewhere. The dream felt too real, too sharp and vivid to be anything other than a connected dream. I could practically feel his presence on my skin.

But even though I could feel him watching me, Tristan was nowhere in sight. I sat down on the grass, pulled up my knees to my chest under my long nightgown, and used my legs as a pillow for my cheek. I closed my eyes, wondering how long it would take for him to lose his patience and show himself.

A mouthwatering smell drove my dream self’s eyelids open again in fear. Descendant blood?

Nope. It turned out to be a birthday cake, round and several layers thick, sitting on a silver platter to my left in the perfectly trimmed grass. And I knew just what kind of cake it would be.

I poked a finger into the top layer, scooping out a little. Red velvet cake with vanilla frosting. My favorite. Tristan had remembered.

But he obviously hadn’t remembered something else…I was a vampire now. I couldn’t eat this stuff anymore without barfing it back up.

Except…in real life my birthday cake had smelled awful.

Hesitant, I took a small taste and moaned. Just the way red velvet cake was supposed to taste.

I imagined a fork, and one appeared on the plate’s rim. “Thanks Tristan,” I whispered to the cake’s creator before digging in.

* * *

On Thursday at lunch, Anne was acting weird. I put it down to her argument with Ron at my party last night. Tempted as I was to read her mind for confirmation, I resisted the urge. My patience was partially rewarded when she walked out with me at the end of the break.

As soon as we reached the catwalk, she grabbed my elbow to stop me. “Listen, there’s something I’ve got to tell you. Or at least I want to, but I can’t. See, it’s someone else’s secret, and I promised I’d keep it….”

Pinpricks of pain erupted along my neck and arms, and Anne’s voice faded away from my mind. Tristan must be around somewhere.

I half turned in time to see Dylan start up the ramp that led from the cafeteria’s sidewalk up to the catwalk where we were standing not ten yards away. Great.

Instinctively my shoulders began to hunch up toward my ears. I forced them down, lifted my chin, and worked to stay calm.

He stopped not six inches away from me, his height forcing me to crane my head back to look up at him. On Tristan, the height difference was nice, making me feel protected, sheltered. With Dylan, it was the definition of looming. He towered over me, he knew it set me on edge, and he liked it.

“I guess I should say thanks,” I said, keeping my voice even though it wanted to shake.

He grinned. “Oh yeah? What for?”

“My truck’s electrical system is fried.”

“Aw, that’s too bad. Do you need a ride to school? I could swing by your crypt in the mornings for you.”

“That won’t be necessary. My dad’s getting me a brand-new car to replace it.” I let the acid drip into my tone now. “Which is why I should thank you. If not for your…help…yesterday, I might still be stuck driving that old truck instead of a sleek, custom new ride soon.”

Dylan’s smile faded, and mine grew.

He leaned over me. “Stick around, and your electrical system won’t be the only thing that gets fried around here.”

Yawning, I pretended to study my nails. “You’ve really got to get a new routine. This one’s beyond boring.”

His eyes flared then narrowed. “I keep repeating myself because you’re not hearing me. Why can’t you get a clue? Nobody wants you here. Get out of Jacksonville.”

Spit flew from his mouth and landed on my cheek, and everything inside me wanted to take a step away from him. But I was sick of running and hiding, and I’d trained for months for this moment. So I calmly wiped my cheek, lifted my chin and dared him to make eye contact with me.

“This is my hometown, Williams. I like it here. I’m not going anywhere.”
So what are you going to do about it?

He stared down at my mouth, and the darkness within him ramped up several notches. But underneath it, the driving emotion was fear. He was…afraid. Of me? I dug deeper into his mind. No, his dad. He was afraid of what his dad would do to him if he couldn’t find a way to push me hard enough.

But his dad didn’t really want me to leave town. That was Dylan’s wish, and the reasons behind it were too jumbled to make out. His dad wanted…something else. Something bigger. Something too complex for me to understand from the too-brief images and snatches of conversation swirling within Dylan’s mind.

“What does he really want?” I murmured. As I leaned in close to him, I heard his heart beat faster. “Tell me, Dylan. What does your dad really want?”

Fear swamped him. “You can read Clann minds now? What did you hear?”

Before I could react, Dylan’s hand shot out and clamped around my throat, lifting me onto my toes as I gasped for air. He backed me up until I was pressed against the metal railing of the catwalk.

“Get out of my head!” he shouted, his eyes wild. “Do you hear me? Stay out of my head!”

But I could barely hear him over the noise of his thoughts, ramped up to full volume apparently by the contact of his skin at my neck.

In his memory, Dylan screamed, his body on fire from head to toe, as his father stood over him shouting.

Why haven’t you done what I asked?

I tried! Dylan said. But they’re too smart. Savannah’s never going to let him break the rules again.

You will find a way, son, or so help me…

Anne hissed out a curse at my side. Then there was a loud thunk as a small, tanned fist crossed my field of vision and connected with Dylan’s nose, followed by a crunching sound.

Shock filled his eyes a split second before the pain registered, driving him to release me. Dropping his books, Dylan bent over with a groan and held his nose with both hands.

But he wasn’t the only one in pain.

Anne had turned the other way, hunched over at the waist, cradling her right wrist against her body as she moaned.

“Anne!” I tried to touch her wrist to see how badly it was hurt.

“Oh ow! Stop!” she cried out. “Oh God, I think it’s broken.”

Behind us I heard movement. I looked back. Dylan had straightened up. He held his nose between both of his flattened palms and made a shifting motion. There was another crunching sound that made my stomach roll over as he realigned his nose.