Covet (7 page)

“He was the future leader when I was growing up. Of course I knew who he was.”

That didn’t really answer my question. Safely dry-eyed now, I risked a glance her way. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard her tanned knuckles had turned white.

“He mentioned you,” I said. “You know, when Dad and I were at the Circle.”

She didn’t look at me.

The seconds ticked by.

“Mom?”

She sighed. “I dated Sam Coleman when we were in high school.”

Whoa, totally not the answer I’d expected. “Was it…serious?”

“Serious enough that he asked me to marry him at the beginning of our senior year.”

“But you didn’t because…you met my dad?”

She shook her head. “I told Sam I couldn’t marry him months before I ever met your father. I didn’t even want to be in the Clann, much less married to its future leader, no matter how much I cared for Sam. So we broke up.”

“And then you met Dad and ran off with him.”

She nodded.

“Did you really love Dad? Or was it just because he was a vampire?”

She looked at me then. “Oh Savannah. Not everything’s so cut and dried. I think, looking back now, that it was probably a little of everything. Michael was so handsome, and dangerous, and yet so polite and protective of me. It was easy to fall for him. The fact that loving him finally gave me the perfect way out of the Clann just added to my feelings for him.”

“I thought anyone who wanted out of the Clann could leave anytime.” She made it sound like some kind of gang or something.

“They can…if they don’t have a mother like mine. Mom was determined to keep me in the Clann as long as she could. She always thought I’d change my feelings about our abilities, that I’d come around eventually and take up my training again.”

“But then the Clann found out about you and Dad and kicked you out.”

“Yes. Unfortunately my plan backfired a little. I never thought they’d blame Mom for my choices and kick her out, too.”

I was starting to get why she’d run away from Jacksonville with Dad for years and come back only because of me. And why she’d chosen a sales rep job that kept her on the road so much of the year.

She wasn’t just running away from Jacksonville or the Clann here, or avoiding causing me to feel the bloodlust around her. She was trying to run away from Sam Coleman and her past, too.

I couldn’t blame her for that. If I thought leaving Jacksonville would really help me forget all my mistakes, I would run away from home so far and so fast and to heck with what the vamp council wanted.

Unfortunately I wasn’t as good at living in denial as Mom was. No matter how far away from this town I ever managed to get, I would never escape the reflection in my mirror or the memories of the choices I had made.

But if running away made Mom happy, then that was what she should do. At the very least, she’d be safer away from the Clann headquarters. And from me and Dad.

It was a relief to arrive at the RV dealership. Normally Mom was a real pain to shop with because she tended to fall in love with everything in sight and become unable to choose. But this time Mom had done her research ahead of time and was surprisingly decisive about what she wanted in her new home on wheels. She test drove only two before she settled on a sleek travel trailer that could be pulled behind her truck so she could leave the trailer at campgrounds while she went into the fields and woods delivering chemicals and safety equipment to forestry clients.

She wore a triumphant smile as she signed the paperwork then towed it home. As she showed off the long-awaited trailer’s updated interior features to Dad, her voice glowing with pride and excitement, I realized I was just the tiniest bit jealous of her.

At least one of us had her freedom.

The funeral on Saturday was even harder to endure than I’d expected. I couldn’t look at Nanna’s body, lying in the open casket at the church where she’d played the piano every Sunday, couldn’t let myself think about her death or its possible causes, couldn’t look at my mother who, despite all her excitement over her new home, was sobbing and clearly brokenhearted at having to say a final goodbye to her mother. When the new pianist played Nanna’s favorite, “In the Garden,” it was all I could do not to join my mother in sobbing.

The preacher’s words were a blur both at the church and at the burial site in the Larissa Cemetery outside town, where all our family were buried. Even though it was only April, it was already hot enough to make everyone sweat under the glaring sun. The heat baked the mounds of carnations covering the casket, pushing their sweet perfume out into the air. I tried not to breathe deeply, but the stench of those flowers of death seeped inside me, clinging to the lining of my throat and lungs.

I knew I would hate the smell of those flowers for the rest of my life, however long that turned out to be.

After the preacher’s final words were delivered, Mom spoke to all of Nanna’s many friends while I gave Anne, Carrie and Michelle each a quick hug of thanks for coming. As soon as I saw my friends, I realized how much I’d both missed them and dreaded seeing them again. But for that day at least, none of them seemed to expect me to explain anything, which was a relief. Then my parents and I returned to Nanna’s home to change and finish the last of the packing.

Dad had already found a house in town. It was a decrepit, crumbling two-story that might have once been a Victorian. The house looked like something the Addams family might live in. Worse than its appearance was its location, though…it was right across the railroad tracks from the Tomato Bowl, where the local high school and junior high football and soccer games were held. The only upside was that I wouldn’t have a long walk after the home football games next year.

Dad said he’d chosen the house because it was the perfect renovation project to showcase his historical restoration company’s abilities. I hoped they worked fast. Really fast. At least money would be no object. According to him, one of the advantages of being an ancient vampire with the ability to read human minds and actually live through several centuries of history was that he’d gotten really good at picking stocks.

On Sunday, Mom and I said a long, silent and teary goodbye to our home and each other. Then Dad and I moved in to our new home in progress, and Mom moved into her travel trailer and hit the road. True to his word, Dad had the movers set up my old bed in the new house. At least I wouldn’t feel weird sleeping in an unfamiliar bed tonight, just a strange and dusty room surrounded by boxes of my things. I’d washed all my clothing before boxing it up, though, so I would have clean clothes until the washer and dryer were delivered and hooked up sometime next week.

Now if I could only get used to all the creaks and groans of my new home.

Nighttime, when I had nothing to distract me while I waited to fall asleep, was the worst. Even as little kids, Tristan and I had used our built-in abilities as descendants to psychically reach out and connect our minds in our dreams. We’d dream connected so often, especially during our recent months of dating, that it felt weird
not
to dream about him now. Another habit I was struggling to get used to breaking.

It would be so easy to close my eyes and reach out to him with my mind. To meet him like the hundreds of times I had before, always in the moonlight, usually in an imaginary version of the backyard behind his house or the Circle in the Coleman family woods. To see him smile, feel his fingers lace through mine, his lips against mine…

I lay there in my old bed in my new bedroom in the dark, watching the pine trees in the backyard sway in a breeze as if they were dancing. Dancing like Tristan and I used to do with our arms wrapped around each other as if we were two trees that had grown intertwined, never to be pulled apart. I had been so stupid, so naive to think he and I could make it last in spite of all the people and beliefs and fears against us.

Stifling a groan, I curled into a ball and pressed my pillow over my head, wishing I could press the memories out of my mind.

* * *

The alarm went off way too soon the next morning. Between fighting nightmares of Nanna and memories of Tristan, I hadn’t gotten much sleep. Groaning, I slapped the clock’s off button. Ugh, time to get ready for Charmers practice before school.

The thought made me freeze. Would Tristan be there?

I’d called Mrs. Daniels yesterday to let her know I’d be returning to practice today. I should have asked if Tristan would be there, too. Surely he wouldn’t. His parents would keep him as far away from me as possible. Maybe I’d get extra lucky and they had even pulled him out of the history class we shared every other day, too.

I tried to relax as I got ready for school. I’d considered microwaving a bowl of oatmeal in the kitchen in a feeble attempt to recreate Nanna’s cooking, but one look at the grubby mousetrap of a room and I changed my mind. Vampires couldn’t eat regular food, so Dad probably wouldn’t think to renovate in there for a while. There was no way I could choke down anything from that nasty, cobweb-draped dungeon until I cleaned it up. Besides, knowing my luck lately, if I tried to use the microwave I’d probably end up starting a house fire from the old wiring.

I should tell Dad I was leaving. But where was he? I followed the sound of hammering to the living room—then my feet skidded to a stop. My father had his head stuck inside the fireplace, his entire upper body swallowed within its cavernous darkness. Clouds of soot poofed out with each blow of his tools.

He was wearing…jeans? I’d never once seen him in anything but a suit.

“Uh, Dad?”

He ducked out of the fireplace. “Good morning, Savannah. Sleep well?”

Oh yeah, like a baby.
“Um, you’re working on the fireplace yourself?”

“Yes. It just needs a little cleaning to remove the nests inside. Then it should work fine.”

I had a sudden vision of him trying to start a fire and blowing up the house. I cringed. “Shouldn’t you hire a professional?”

“I am more than qualified to serve as a chimney sweep, Savannah.”

Maybe he had a point. He was old enough that he’d probably been around when chimneys were invented. “I’ve got to go. Charmers practice.” I checked my watch. “Which I’m going to be late for if I don’t get moving.”

He nodded. “What time will you be home this evening?”

“I don’t know. We’ve got more practice after school.”

His dark eyebrows shot up, hiding themselves under the wavy black hair that had flopped out of its usual precisely combed style onto his forehead. “You do not know what time the after-school practice will end?” His tone sounded either suspicious or accusing, I couldn’t figure out which.

I stared at him. The man had had almost no involvement in my life for years. Now he’d decided to be a control freak just because I’d been forced to move in with him?

“Savannah, I am not your lackadaisical mother or grandmother. I will need to know your daily schedule with precise times at which to expect you home each day.”

Lackadaisical
? Did anybody even use that word anymore? And besides, my mother and grandmother had raised me just fine. Just because I made one mistake that caused a huge mess…

Fine. I saw his point. “Usually I do know what time practice will end. But right now the Charmers are getting ready for our annual Spring Show in a week. So we’ll be practicing every morning before school starting at 6:45 a.m., and again after school until at least seven or eight o’clock. I never know when the evening practices will end exactly, because it depends on when each group of girls decides to quit for the day, and I have to stay until the last person leaves so I can lock up the building. So that’s really the best guess I can give you. Would you like me to call when practice ends each day?”

“Yes, please do. I programmed my number into your phone.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out my phone and tossed me the digital dog leash.

I dropped it into my blue leather Charmers duffel bag and turned toward the freedom of the front door.

“And Savannah?”

I stopped and looked back over my shoulder, trying very hard not to huff out a sigh of impatience. If he kept this up, I’d never get to practice on time.

“If you begin to feel strange in any way, do not wait to call me.” His tone was a stern warning.

Or else I might go on a killing spree before he could get to me and stop me? Yeesh. “Yes, Dad,” I muttered then made a hasty escape.

Annoyance continued to knot my stomach during the short drive across town to the school’s front parking lot.

As I walked across the dark campus, I remembered how scared I had been with the watchers there. Now that I was turning into a full vampire, I was the scariest thing imaginable here.

Shaking my head, I headed up the sports and arts building’s cement ramp toward its blue painted rows of doors and then had to stop as a sharp pain spiked through me.

For the first time in months, Tristan wasn’t waiting for me.

My steps became jerky as I forced my legs to move. I swallowed hard and searched for the right key to unlock the doors.

This is all wrong
, a voice at the back of my mind moaned. He should be here, leaning against the doors, as perfect-looking as a catalog model. He should be reaching out to hold my thermos of tea, made fresh by Nanna, while I struggled to think straight.

But I didn’t have my usual cup of tea from Nanna. And I was alone.

Inside, I stopped, too aware that I was the only person in the dark, empty building. I scowled. I had been just fine before Tristan came along. I’d been in this building alone countless times and had never felt lonely.

I had to get used to being on my own again.

I trudged across the foyer, flicked all four light switches up in one swipe, then continued up the stairs, my footsteps echoing in the half-lit stairwell, every step seeming to whisper, “Alone. Alone. Alone.”

Gritting my teeth, I pulled open the upstairs hallway door and entered the pitch-black third-floor hall. The door slammed shut behind me, making my shoulders hunch up.