Clann 03 - Consume (11 page)

“The council is in agreement. This Jim Williams has clearly staged a coup within the Clann. It was unfortunate that your human family was involved and you were forced to kill a descendant in self-defense. But you have been cleared of all wrongdoing against the Clann.”

My family...involved? They were a heck of a lot more than just involved. My mother had been murdered! I crossed my arms and stared at him, my back teeth grinding together.

Easy, Tristan,
Savannah thought, resting a hand on my upper arm.
He doesn’t understand. He thinks you probably hated your family for casting you out of the Clann. Not to mention he’s like two thousand years old and doesn’t even remember what it’s like to have a human family in the first place.

I took a deep breath then let it out slow through my nose.

“Then we are free to go?” Michael asked.

“Soon. However, the council has asked for a...shall we say, show of good faith on your part?”

Michael froze.

I read the council leader’s mind. “They want to know that we’re on your side.”

Caravass froze as well, losing all trace of humanity in the process. I’d seen wax figures at museums with more life to them. Finally he forced an attempt at a smile. “I forgot that you two are able to read all vampires’ minds regardless of whether they are your elders.” His Adam’s apple worked as he swallowed. “I would prefer to discuss the council’s...requests in a more comfortable venue, if you will permit.”

We need to get back to Mom and Emily,
Savannah thought, her fingers tightening on my arm.

I know. But Caravass and the council seem to be trying to play nice. For now. Let’s see where he’s going with these new demands. Maybe if they’re not too bad and we can play along, we’ll get out of here soon and keep the council off our backs. The last thing we need is to have both sides hunting us down in the middle of a war.

“Lead the way.” I worked to make my tone and smile as diplomatic as I could, an accomplishment managed only by Dad’s endless speeches and my brief stint as the Clann’s leader.

“Wonderful! I promise you will not regret it.” Caravass led us down the tunnel a few steps, then hesitated and turned back, his smile sheepish now. “Ah, I nearly neglected a bit of security measures. I deeply apologize, I realize this is completely inhospitable, but unfortunately it is also necessary to maintaining the secrecy of our humble chambers’ location.”

A nearby guard vamp blurred over to us with two blindfolds.

I held my smile in place. “Of course. Your caution is understandable now more than ever.”

We allowed the older vamps to tie our blindfolds back into place before leading us out of the tunnels through a different route than before and back up to the street level. We were guided into a car, which smelled and felt like the same one that had picked us up from the airport. But this time, Caravass got into the front seat with the driver, and Mr. Colbert sat in the back on the other side of Savannah.

Caravass gave directions to the driver. Twenty minutes later, the car stopped.

The front passenger door opened then shut. Mr. Colbert got out, as well. Then he and Caravass helped Savannah and me out of the car, four steps over what felt like cobblestone and through a glass revolving door into some sort of building, gauging by the way the air pressure changed around us. A hand at my elbow—Caravass’s, according to his thoughts—guided me forward across soft carpeting and through a wide opening of some kind into a room I could instantly tell was cavernous because of how every sound seemed to echo on and on. Ahead, a bit of light filtered through the black cloth over my eyes, and I could hear music and the murmur of voices.

“You may remove your blindfolds,” Caravass murmured.

I pulled the blindfold off, felt Savannah do the same at my side, and then heard her gasp of pure delight.

We were in some sort of theater or opera house. Row upon row of red velvet seats spanned in every direction. When I looked behind us, I discovered there were two tiers of private boxes surrounding three sides of the huge space, which was crowned with a highly detailed central molding design Savannah was silently squeeing over. Ahead of us stretched the biggest stage I’d ever seen, even bigger than the Broadway stages my mother had dragged our family to in New York year after year.

And Savannah was in love.

I looked at her, with her hands pressed together before her parted lips, her eyes wide and darting from side to side as she watched the dancers rehearsing on the stage, and I was nearly hypnotized by the light shining out of her. For just a moment, she was so bright she made me forget all the darkness surrounding us.

Caravass smiled and spread his arms wide with the stage behind him. “Welcome to our hidden gem of an opera house, where our very own dance troupe will be performing tonight to what is sure to be a packed house.”

“There’s a vampire dance company?” Savannah’s eyes had widened and she spoke fast. Even without the ability to read her mind or hear her now racing heartbeat, we all would have recognized how excited she was.

Caravass nodded, his smile finally managing to warm up his icy silver eyes. “And I would very much like it if you three would do me the honor of joining me in my private box for it.”

Savannah’s breath caught in her chest. Her dazzling smile melted like a candle sputtering out as her shoulders slumped, and inside myself I felt that empty, black pit that had taken over the moment I’d seen my mother’s body once again open up and try to suck me down.

“Ah, we have loved ones back in the States who require our assistance in hiding before this Jim Williams is officially voted in as the new Clann leader,” her father explained for us. “It is our sincere worry that as soon as he does so, he will waste no time in declaring war against our kind.”

Caravass’s eyes flared wide then narrowed. “Is that so?”

Both Michael and I nodded.

“Mr. Williams is a real vamp hater,” I added, fighting to separate Savannah’s disappointment with my own feelings. “He’d love nothing more than to wipe every last one of us off the face of the planet if he can.”

“Hmm.” Caravass crossed one arm over his chest and tapped the index finger of his other hand against his mouth. “That is worrisome. But perhaps we could find some way to reach out to him and—”

I shook my head. “There’s nothing anyone can say that’s ever going to change his mind. He’s what you’d call a hard-core racist against vamps.”

Caravass sighed. “Then my worst fear has come true. After so many peaceful decades of working with your father and his father before him, I had so hoped we had managed to usher in a long-lasting era of peace. I will have to warn the council so that we can make preparations.” He half turned, frowned at the stage then nodded. “Yes, I can see this evening’s festivities must be cut short for everyone on our council. However, surely there is still enough time for you to at least meet the troupe before you go?” He addressed his question to Savannah.

She bit her lower lip and turned to her dad, and I could both feel and hear her yearning for his permission while also bracing for his denial due to lack of time. I had to forcibly stop myself from adding my own begging to hers as the mind connection once again blurred the lines between her feelings and mine.

Michael looked at her for two agonizing seconds, then nodded.

“Are you sure there’s time?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper as hope shot her heartbeat into the stratosphere.

He nodded again.

She made a tiny, closed-mouthed squeal through her nose and vamp blurred down the aisle to the edge of the stage. Caravass followed at her heels to introduce her to the troupe.

Her blast of happiness was like four shots of espresso injected straight into my veins, rocking me back on my heels and making my eyes snap wide-open.

Enjoy, my daughter,
Michael thought as we watched her jump up onto the stage to meet each of the dancers.
Enjoy while the world is still capable of allowing you to, for soon all dreaming will come to an end.

Onstage, the troupe’s director began to teach Savannah part of a routine. Although she was hesitant at first from the habit of hiding her abilities around humans, her face was still filled with a childlike wonder. She was like a little girl opening presents on Christmas morning.

“You are among friends, Savannah,” the troupe’s director said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “On this stage, no vamp ever has to hide her gifts.”

Savannah took a deep breath then gave it her all, performing the short piece of choreography as it was meant to be danced. She whirled so fast human eyes couldn’t have possibly followed her, her wild red curls flying out behind her and threatening to come loose from her ponytail holder in the process. Thinking of nothing but the choreography and ignoring her falling hair, she did some complicated little sequence of steps before launching herself into the air in a split leap that rose impossibly high. She seemed to hover there, almost making me believe vamps could fly after all, before landing so lightly her feet didn’t make a sound on the stage’s wooden floor.

In that instant I remembered the first time I’d caught her dancing in the Charmers dance room at our high school and how even then, not yet fully evolved as a vampire, she’d still moved with that same alien grace and lightness. It should have been my first hint that she wasn’t completely human. But then, as now, she had only been my Savannah, so achingly beautiful that she literally robbed me of breath for a few seconds. God I loved her, and every time I thought I couldn’t possibly love her more, she took my feelings for her to a whole new level.

I closed my eyes and immersed myself in her thoughts, forgetting who I was and concentrating only on what she thought and felt. As if her body were my own, I felt the way her blood rushed through her veins so fast that it seemed she really might be able to fly right up to the ceiling and beyond.

And finally I understood what dancing meant to her. It was indescribable for a reason. I had to experience it with her through her own senses, filtered through her emotions, in order to truly get it. I’d always thought dancing for her was like playing football used to be for me, but it was completely different. For me, football had always been a challenge to prove myself to my teammates, my coaches and even my parents. It was about beating all the obstacles and pushing myself to my limits and beyond over and over again.

For Savannah, dancing was the complete opposite of all that. Instead of having to push toward or through something, she was letting go of everything. As she moved, she set herself free, allowing her body to do what came naturally. When she danced was when she
stopped
fighting.

And in that short moment as I forgot who I was and simply enjoyed Savannah’s experience up on that stage with her, I learned how to stop fighting, too.

And then my skin exploded with the stabbings of a million tiny unseen needles a second before the entire city was rocked by a series of rumblings, first in the distance, then closer and closer toward the opera house.

CHAPTER 12

Savannah gasped and froze for less than half a second. I was already running down the aisle toward her when she leaped off the stage and met me halfway. Caravass, Michael and the dancers joined us as we all ran up the aisle toward the exit then skidded to a stop in the foyer as the street beyond the glass doors erupted in a geyser of fire. Sirens began to wail throughout the city, and several of the dancers behind us hissed in alarm and took a few steps back.

“What is this?” Caravass asked Michael.

“The Clann,” I muttered as Savannah’s hand darted to the back of her neck and her gaze collided with mine. “I think they’ve found your headquarters.”

Caravass turned round, icy white eyes toward me.

I held up my free hand in surrender. “No way. I swear we had nothing to do with this.”

Savannah thrust out her wrist. “Take our blood as proof. The blood memories will show you. We didn’t lead them here or tell them anything about this place.”

She was right. The council leader might not be able to read our minds, but he could still read the memories in our blood. I stuck my own wrist out beside hers.

Caravass hesitated, then faster than our eyes could even track, his hand darted out and reappeared at his mouth as two thin slices welled with blood across Savannah’s and my wrists. Even as Caravass tasted our blood and read our most recent memories, the cuts began to heal. I had to tear my focus away from the amazing healing process in order to follow his thoughts.

He nodded, his eyes narrowing. “It is as you say.”

“It’s got to be Mr. Williams,” I said. “He must have called an emergency vote already.”

“But how could he have set this attack up so fast?” Savannah said, turning to look at the flames still roaring a good ten feet up into the air. Smoke was quickly filling the street and darkening the skies above. “And how did he know where the headquarters were?”

“He had to have already sent a team to get into position before the vote,” Michael said.

“It is what I might have done if I were him,” Caravass said.

“If the Clann’s here, we need to leave,” I told him, bracing for who knew what he might say in return. Would he demand we stay and fight at his side?

He stared at me with narrowed eyes then sighed. “I suppose it is too soon to ask you to join us in this war?”

War,
Savannah gasped silently.
Oh, God. It’s really happening.

I shook my head. “I can’t. If Williams has declared war, then we’ve got to get back to the States to my sister and her mother. They’ll be in danger, too.”

Caravass scowled. “Fine. Michael, I trust you will remain at their sides at all times?” Silently he added,
To ensure they do not act against us at least?

Michael nodded. “Of course. I will call you with any news I have. Will you flee the city?”

Caravass shook his head, his jawline hardening. “I must try to find any surviving council members so we can discuss our next move. If this Williams truly demands a war, then who are we to refuse him?”

We all pushed through the revolving doors, coughing as soon as we exited the building and the smoke slammed our faces and lungs with the smell of a thousand unknown things on fire. The sirens were a hundred times louder out here, forcing Savannah and me to let go of each other’s hand so we could cover our too-sensitive ears before the sound could drive us to our knees.

Michael vamp blurred around the car still parked at the curb, getting into the front passenger seat while Savannah and I dived into the back. Caravass shouted directions to the driver as we slammed the doors shut.

Then we were careening on a madhouse ride through the city’s streets, every one of them ablaze with shooting flames from both the streets’ many access points into the maze of sewers and underground tunnels that seemed to match the city’s layout of streets exactly. We didn’t get too far, however, before traffic jams brought us to a halt.

“We must make a run for it from here,” Michael shouted over the wailing sirens and shouting humans as he opened his door. To the driver he said, “Make sure the pilot knows we are on our way so he can ready for immediate takeoff.”

The driver nodded.

Savannah gave me one last round-eyed look of terror, then we jumped out of the car on opposite sides and started running, struggling to keep her father in sight as we used every bit of vamp speed available to hide our passage through the city on foot. Mr. Williams’s attack team had to still be in the city somewhere. The last thing we needed was for them to spot us before we could get out of Paris.

Finally Michael led us back to the airport and onto the jet. None of us dared sigh with relief until we were actually in the air, though, especially since both Michael and the pilot had to do some serious negotiating to get the locked-down airport to allow us to take off. We were lucky the vamp council apparently knew somebody working in the control tower today.

As the jet circled the city, all three of us stared out the nearest windows at the city below. The City of Lights and Love was filled with a whole new kind of light now, one that flickered and did its best to devour every building and body in its path.

And the States were probably next.

SAVANNAH

It was a really, really long flight back. And not just because we were worried about another war starting, or getting back to Mom and Emily and hopefully finding them as safe and sound as we’d left them.

It was because Tristan spent the entire return trip planning different ways to get close enough to Mr. Williams to make him pay for Mrs. Coleman’s murder.

Worse, he didn’t just want justice for his mother’s death. He wanted to see Mr. Williams tortured slowly first, then kill him with his own bare hands. And possibly his fangs, too.

At first, I tried to remember that Tristan was still grieving for his mother, dealing with the shock from her death, and anger was probably part of that process. Anyone would be furious and heartbroken.

But when his fantasizing passed the five-hour mark and got downright bloodthirsty, I discovered I could only take so much. I dug into my pockets, found my trusty MP3 player and earbuds, and put on some music to drown him out inside my head.

When we finally reached our last airport stop, disembarked and headed over to a rental car Dad had arranged midflight to have waiting for us, I got into the backseat, assuming Tristan would join me there. Instead he took the front passenger seat by Dad.

Okay. Maybe Tristan needed a little space to work through his emotions.

I sat behind Dad, which gave me a view of Tristan’s profile.

Are you okay?
I silently asked him.

Sure.
And then came more of the same plotting to kill Mr. Williams.

Ugh. It was like being forced to listen to an all-day horror movie fest, whether you liked horror movies or not, and none of the movies were of your choosing. I stuck my earbuds back in and cranked up the music again until I fell asleep against the car door.

We stopped sometime later at a car rental place, where we waited in the parking lot for another hour till Mom and Emily showed up with the truck and RV trailer. This time their tears were happy ones as they hugged us. Then they retired to the trailer to rest while Dad, Tristan and I all opted to ride in the truck for a few hours. Dad wanted to drive a little farther north.

This time I rode in the front seat of the truck with Dad, letting Tristan have the entire backseat to himself so he could stretch out his long legs. As we headed down the road again, Tristan threw a forearm over his eyes, and I thought he might finally rest. It had been too long since I’d seen him even grab a nap. Not since the attack at his family home, in fact.

But even then he didn’t sleep, his thoughts swirling back and forth between his mother’s death, Dylan’s last words, everything Mr. Williams had said and done that night, and wondering where the new Clann leader might be holed up now with his battalion of descendant bodyguards.

Enough was enough.
Do you want to talk about it?
I silently asked, turning to look over the front seat at him.

What’s there to talk about?

I swallowed, the raw pain and endless rage in his thoughts filling me with a horrible ache I hadn’t felt since my own Nanna’s death last spring.
Look, I know how you feel. When Nanna died—

No, you
don’t
know how I feel, Savannah. You have no clue. You lost your grandma. But at least your parents are still right here. You can talk to them anytime you want.

His words stung. They might have seemed true to him, but he was wrong. I’d only lived with my dad for about a year now. Before that, I’d lived with my mother and grandma, and with Mom always on the road for her sales rep job, Nanna had been my only constant parent for years. So while my parents might be alive, losing Nanna had still felt like losing a parent to me.

But Tristan was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to hear mine.
I’m never going to speak to my dad again, never know what Mom might have said...
But that line of thought was too painful for him to continue. The knot in his throat worked, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the tops of his thighs.
If I’d just been there a few minutes earlier...

We had been late because Charmers practice ran over and I’d had to take a shower, fix my hair and makeup, and try to figure out what to wear that might make his mother hate me less.

He wasn’t blaming his mother’s death on me, I reminded myself.

Your parents’ deaths aren’t your fault,
I told him.
You can’t blame yourself.

Silence. Finally, he thought very slowly and way too clearly to misunderstand,
I am going to track Mr. Williams down and kill him. If anyone’s to blame, he is.

I drew in a sharp breath through my nose, earning a curious glance from Dad before he returned his attention to the road.
There’s a huge difference between fantasizing about killing someone, accidentally ending someone’s life and actually setting out to intentionally hunt someone down like an animal. I know you didn’t mean to kill Dylan. And I know you don’t really mean to—

I didn’t
accidentally
do anything to Dylan. I meant to kill him, just like I mean to kill his father as soon as I can find a way to get close enough to him.

Tristan—

They killed my mother, would have killed Emily, too, if we hadn’t gotten there in time! That whole family is poison, and the only way to stop that poison from spreading is to end them.

It had been a long time since I’d heard Tristan shout, and he’d only ever dared to yell at me once. Even if this time it was from inside his mind, it still startled me, and I had to fight my own rising emotions. He wasn’t yelling at me. I couldn’t take it personally.

I took a deep breath to steady myself.
Dylan didn’t kill your mom. He didn’t even know his dad was going to do that.

He lied,
he thought with zero hesitation or doubt.

I read his memories—

Memories can be faked. Remember the one I showed you of me and Bethany Brookes kissing under the bleachers? Never happened. I just imagined it to make you jealous.

I took a deep breath and tried to hold on to my patience, but it was starting to feel like a losing battle.
Dylan didn’t fake this memory. He didn’t have time to. Besides, he was too busy being scared of
you
.

A memory, my own, flashed through my mind...the fear in Dylan’s eyes as Tristan grabbed him, then Dylan’s body soaring through the air, and the sickening thud and crack as his back slammed into the fireplace before he dropped into a lifeless heap on the hearth like a rag doll instead of someone I’d gone to school with, grown up with. Even though I’d seen Dylan’s death with my own eyes, it still felt surreal. I’d never seen anyone my age die, much less someone I’d actually known.

He played you, Savannah,
Tristan thought.
I can’t believe you’d be dumb enough to fall for it.

Okay, now he’d crossed the line. He did
not
just call me dumb.
Obviously you’re upset about your mother, and I don’t blame you. But I am not your punching bag, so quit taking it out on me. I’m on
your
side, remember? And how
dare
you call me dumb! Just because I think you should have tried to control yourself and figure out what really happened before losing it and killing someone doesn’t make me an idiot.

You are if you actually fell for Dylan’s crap. And I already told you, I didn’t lose control again! I knew exactly what I was doing.

I made one last attempt to stay calm.
Maybe we should talk about this later, after you’ve had more time to deal with everything.

“I would calm down a lot faster if you weren’t sitting there saying I don’t know what I saw! I was there, Savannah! I could see with my own eyes what happened and exactly who was to blame! So stop telling me I’m wrong!” The roar of Tristan’s words, shouted within the tiny space of the cab, punched at my ears over and over until I found myself actually leaning away from him.

Dad cleared his throat, but when he spoke, the words still came out in a growl. “That is my daughter you are speaking to. I will thank you to watch your tone, and do not shout at her again.”

That was it. I was done trying to talk with Tristan. I faced front again, my whole body shaking with an explosion of fury. And this time, the anger was all mine. My stupid eyes burned then flooded with tears, which only made me angrier. Why couldn’t I be more like a guy and punch something instead of bursting into waterworks? More than ever, I wished I could turn off the mind connection between us.

I also really wished I could get away from Tristan physically right now.

Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Dad, pull over.”

The truck slowed and eased onto the shoulder of the highway.