Crave (21 page)

He glanced at the twins with raised eyebrows. They answered with tiny shakes of their heads. Then his angry gaze shot over to me.

That's right. Now you're getting a clue,
I thought.

He sighed, and his energy level backed down. But he still didn't look sorry.

Then Savannah leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

He jerked away, scowling again. “Pick up your own crap, Ice Princess.”

Smiling, she straightened up and strolled to the front of the room to gather her things. I wanted to help her, but I could feel three pairs of spying eyes watching me.

So I stayed stretched out in my chair, staring at the dry-erase board that ran the length of the front wall. But to punish and warn the other descendants, I kept my energy level high. Vanessa hissed my name, wiggling in her chair, and I grinned. Maybe this would teach her and her sister not to help Dylan mess with innocents anymore.

Strangely, Savannah's forearms broke out in goose bumps. Frowning, she paused to rub them for a few seconds, then finished gathering her papers and books and returned to her desk.

She'd done that before when I was ticked off. Could she somehow be sensitive to the Clann's powers?

As soon as Mr. Smythe opened the classroom door, I pulled the energy level down to normal, showing them a little of what my dad had taught me over the past month. I'd worked hard for weeks to develop control over my energy levels. No more emergency grounding for me.

I wasn't surprised when Mr. Smythe glanced at all four of us descendants with obvious suspicion. Every descendant on campus had to have felt the energy spikes Dylan and I had just released. But instead of trying to send me out for yet another emergency grounding session, Mr. Smythe dived into his daily lecture.

Not that I listened much. History was easier to remember when I read about it at home. Besides, I was too busy reconsidering my friendship with Dylan.

He was waiting for me outside the building after class. “What was that crap in there?”

I waited for the last students to get outside of hearing range before I replied, “A reminder. You seemed about to lose your control.”

“Unlike some people, I don't lose control.”

I ignored the insult. My issues with energy control were old news. “Then you were about to use power against an innocent on purpose.”

“She's no innocent. Not with those freaky eyes of hers.”

Because my energy wanted to spike out of control, I lashed out in a different way. “What did she say that scared you so badly?”

“She didn't scare me, she threatened me! She said if I wasn't careful, she'd use those eyes on me. Have you heard what some of the guys are saying about her, about what she can do?”

“Then maybe you should leave her alone.”

“Are you siding with her?”

“I'm saying leave her alone. She's done nothing to you, so just back off.”

“Or what?” His energy level jumped. “You going to fight your best friend over her?”

I studied the ugly look on his face. We had been best friends once. But in the past year or two, Dylan had changed. I didn't even know the guy anymore. Now all I saw when I looked at him was a power-hungry bully who preyed on others. Had he always been this way and I just didn't see it?

“I will if I have to.” Because no true friend of mine would attack an innocent. My energy flared out to match his then shot up a level higher. His hands flexed then fisted, the muscles in his arms cording as the greater energy stabbed at his skin.

He held my stare a few seconds longer then hissed, “See you at the game.”

I dipped my chin in acknowledgment, then watched my former best friend turn and walk away. Something inside my chest tightened. Why did I get the feeling this conversation wasn't over?

 

Tonight's game against Herndon High, Jacksonville's biggest rival, had been a tough one so far. Apparently their defensive line didn't like Dylan any more than I did right now, because they'd been after the quarterback especially hard all night. Unfortunately as an offensive tackle, it was my job to protect Dylan's sorry butt. As a result, I'd been taking hits intended for him all night, when what I really wanted was for one of their defensive line to take Dylan's head off and save me the trouble.

Seeing Savannah running herself ragged helping the Charmers in the bleachers didn't improve my mood any. Why she was helping them was beyond me.

Body aching, I stood on the sidelines while our defense took over for a while. I should be focused on my team's efforts out on the field right now. Focusing on the field had been easier last year on JV, because they didn't have the Charmers or pre-drill classes at their games. The varsity team, on the other hand, got all the school-spirit groups at our games. As a result, my gaze kept straying sideways and up to the home bleachers. Third quarter now, time for the Charmers to take their break. Which meant Savannah would be in the concession-stand area instead of with her duffel bag and the protective charms I'd created for her. If they were even still in there. I'd have to get Anne to sneak a peek into Savannah's bag at lunch next week and make sure.

In the meantime, I'd just have to hope that none of her stalkers tried to mess with her right now.

After a few minutes, Savannah returned to the Charmers
bleacher section. My heart rammed into my throat as a breeze grabbed her long ponytail and toyed with the red strands, spreading it out like dark fire around her head.

“Playing with fire?” Dylan removed his helmet as he walked over.

I jerked my gaze back to the field. “No clue what you're talking about.”

“I'm talking about Freaky Eyes up there.”

I turned to face him. “Man, what is your
problem
with her?”

“My problem is with
you
. I just can't get it out of my head how you're willing to side with her over your best friend.”

“I'm not siding with her. I'm just saying we don't attack innocents. You know the rules.”

He closed the foot of space between us. “Screw the Clann's rules.” He waved an arm around us. “These people are sheep, and you and I both know it. We should be ruling this town, not hiding in it.”

“Keep your voice down,” I warned, glancing around us. But everyone was focused on the game.

Dylan sneered. “You're pathetic. Look at you, afraid someone might hear us talking about the Clann. But everyone already knows! That's the real joke. Everyone knows about us, and the elders are still holding on to their stupid, outdated rules. What we need is new rules. Maybe new leadership, too.”

It was my turn to sneer. “Like who? Your dad? You?” The Williamses had always been nothing but a bunch of butt-kissing weasels. I'd thought Dylan was different. Today he'd showed me I was wrong.

“Why not? The Colemans aren't the only ones who can lead. Why not give somebody else a chance for a change?”

What a crybaby. “If the Clann thought your dad could lead better, they would have voted for him. They didn't. So get
over it. And get over the rules, too, while you're at it. I don't always like the rules, either, but you don't hear me whining about it all the time. If you've got a problem with the Clann's rules, take it up with the elders who made them.”

He stepped so close our face guards almost hit. “You might not make the rules, but your dear old dad does. And for someone who says he doesn't like the rules, you sure don't seem to mind enforcing them.”

“Whatever.” I was getting tired of this argument fast.

He cocked his head. “Or maybe you're not supporting Daddy.”

I scowled. “Now what do you mean by that?”

“You've never wanted to fight me before. Maybe this whole ‘protect the innocents' crap isn't about the rules at all. Maybe it's just about
her.
”

I clenched my teeth together. “You need to go away now, Williams.”

He smiled. “That's it, isn't it? Even after all these years, you've still got a thing for the redheaded freak! Wow, what a freakin' hypocrite. All that talk about following the rules, but really you want to break the biggest one of all.”

“I said drop it.”

“Ooo woo, your mommy and daddy would
love
that, wouldn't they? Their precious baby boy dirtying himself with the one girl who is off-limits. And a freak at that.”

Fury flash boiled my skin. “I told you, leave her alone!”

“What's wrong, Coleman? Don't like me calling her a freak?”

“Dylan…” I was on the edge, could feel the anger crowding out rational thought.

“Just remember, if the leader's son can get it on with the freak, so can I,” he murmured, his smile turning into a leer.

I snapped.

My hands shot out at Dylan's chest. To everyone else, it must have looked like a hard shove. But while my hands were still inches away from contact, my energy and will burst out, an invisible force that slammed into him. It knocked him off his feet and sent him sliding five yards away on his back.

For five short seconds, seeing the shock on his face was worth it. Until I remembered where we were.

Aw, hell, I was in for it now. No way had any descendants here missed that. Including my parents up in the bleachers.

 

Mom hadn't stopped shrieking for the past forty-five minutes. It was all along the same lines.

“What were you thinking, using power in public like that? You've jeopardized everything we have here. And not just our family, but everyone else in the Clann, as well! I can't believe I raised such an irresponsible idiot for a son.” Her heels were wearing a path in the rug. If she kept this up, she'd have to buy a new one for Dad's study soon. “How many times do we have to tell you? Our power here is fragile. If any of these farm-loving bigots ever found out what we can do, every one of us would be run out of town faster than you could say
witch hunt.
”

Up to that point, Dad had sat in a glaring silence propped up on the corner of his desk. But now he jumped in. “Well, now, I wouldn't go that far, Nancy—”

“And you! You're responsible for his training,” she snapped at him. “What were you thinking, teaching him to use power like that? We haven't taught combat training since the vampire wars ended, Samuel. And even then, they're to be used against that undead filth, not on our own kind.”

“But—” I began.

Dad flashed me a look of warning, and I shut up again, slouching in the leather chair in front of his desk.

“Nancy, why don't you head on up to bed and let me handle this?” he said.

“I want him off that team.”

No way. Mom couldn't do this to me. She knew I wanted to play for the NFL someday. I always had. If she yanked me out of football my sophomore year, it would look bad to the coaches and college recruiters. Not to mention hurting my stats.

“Nancy—” Dad tried again.

“No, Sam.” Her eyes blazed with determination as she stared down at me. “I never wanted him to play a contact sport, and you know it. It isn't safe for any descendant. Dylan shouldn't be playing sports, either. But at least he's not the future leader of the Clann. Tristan is. And tonight just proves my point. Tristan could lose control again, but worse. What if he really hurts someone? Or gets hurt by someone else? Where would the Clann be then?”

“Mom, I—”

“You screwed up, Tristan Glenn Coleman,” she shrieked. “You know the rules as well as everyone else. If we don't punish you, the Clann will. So no more football. Or basketball. Or any other sports. Maybe then you'll finally focus on your magic training instead of wasting your time.”

And that's when I knew the truth. I could see the victory in her eyes. Tonight, my stupidity had given her the perfect opportunity to make sure I never did anything other than school and magic training again. Exactly what she had always wanted.

Rage burned in my chest, but I held on to my energy with everything I had, keeping the power level down by sheer will alone.

“Your mother is right.” Dad sighed. “You have to be punished, at least for the rest of the year, and it's got to be a public
one. Otherwise the Clann will start making demands. At least if we're proactive with your punishment, we'll retain control over what that punishment is.”

“So, what, you want me to join the chess club now?” This wasn't really happening, was it? It was a bad dream. I'd wake up soon, right?

“Chess club, Spanish club, I don't care as long as it's not sports,” Mom replied. Then she left the room.

“Sorry, son.” Dad walked over to clap a heavy paw of a hand on my shoulder. “At least there was only a month left in the season.”

“But we're in the playoffs.”

“Well, there's always next year. If you keep your nose clean. And I better not hear about any revenge taken against Dylan, either. It's not his fault you couldn't control your temper.”

I glared at him.

“What do you want me to say? You really screwed up to night. The only reason the Clann's not ringing my phone off the hook already is because from the bleachers it looked like just a regular shove. What did you do to Dylan anyway? You and I both know I didn't teach you anything like that.”

I lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “I hit him with my energy.”

“Impressive. Did you think any spell words or…?”

I shook my head. I hadn't even meant to use magic on him.

“Wow, son.” He stared at me for a minute, his thoughtful frown nearly lost within his silver-white beard. “Well, guess we'd better add to your training time, then. Teach you how to control it better mentally.”

I managed a nod. “Can I go? I've got to figure out the least socially dead activity I can do now instead of football.” I choked on the last word.