Crave (26 page)

I held on to the open door. And noticed her hands were shaking on the steering wheel. “You know this thing between us isn't gonna go away, even if you ignore it. Clann rules or not. It's not about them. It's about us.”

Staring at the dashboard of her truck, she whispered, “It doesn't matter. We can be friends, but that's all. I can't date you.”

“And if I keep asking?”

One corner of her mouth tightened. “Anne's right. You are spoiled.”

“No, just determined.” I shut her door for her. Then she started the engine and pulled out of her parking space.

At least look back at me,
I thought.
Come on, just one little sign.

As she left, I caught her looking at me in her rearview mirror.
Yes!

Maybe I hadn't totally blown my chances with her. I just needed to find some way to get past this whole family-rules hang-up of hers. After all, some rules really were made to be broken.

Savannah

The glow singing through my body faded as soon as Tristan was no longer visible in my rearview mirror. I couldn't believe I'd kissed him. I hadn't even been that stupid in my dreams about him. What had I been
thinking?

Oh, that's right, I hadn't. I'd gotten caught up in my emotions. Again.

I always got emotional during the few stolen minutes each week when I could safely have the dance room all to myself.
Maybe it was the fact that I had to keep my dancing ability a secret that made it that much more of a pure pleasure.

Whatever the reason, I'd been lost in the moment and the flood of emotions as I moved. And then I'd felt him there. But the usual ache from his nearness had been intensified to the point of pain, as if magnified through the lens of my other emotions.

The pain might have gone away eventually, if he hadn't kept poking at my feelings about things. I'd tried to push on, to ignore the pain and focus on getting back to work.

But then Tristan had moved to stand so close to me, his warmth at my side, his crisp cologne like a pile of autumn leaves I just had to dive into. The ache in my chest and stomach had exploded, and I'd lost all common sense. Something had driven me to stare into his eyes, to put my hands on his shoulders. Only one thought, one need had pounded through my veins. I'd wanted him to kiss me.

I'd used my gaze on him again.

I groaned and slapped the steering wheel. “Idiot, idiot,
idiot!
Sav, how could you? Twice on the same guy?”

I really should be locked up.

How long would it take for the gaze-daze effects to wear off him this time? Would repeated exposure make it take longer, or less time? Probably more. I hadn't been brave enough today to check his eyes for that possessed-stalker look after ward. I would have to find the courage and check tonight at the game.

Crap. This time I'd used my gaze on a guy I worked with almost every day. And was frequently alone with. How could I do that to Tristan? And just when things seemed to be clicking between us again.

If he—no,
when
he did, because they always did—when
Tristan went into stalker mode, I might have to ask Mrs. Daniels to take him off the team.

No. I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to him, especially since I was the one who had messed up and used the freaky vampire gaze on him.

I'd have to be the one to leave the team. It was only right. My throat closed up at the idea.

 

That night at the game, I got to lead the pre-drill girls in their first bleacher routine. It was fun, it took my mind off the afternoon's disastrous events…

And it got me away from Tristan.

I couldn't understand why he affected me the way he did. Even last week, before everything had gone haywire between us again, sitting beside him in the bleachers had been excruciating. Tonight was way worse. Though frequent glances at his profile showed that he didn't seem bothered at all. At least my standing at the head of the pre-drill section put several yards and people between us so I could breathe easier.

And the ache in my chest and stomach wasn't as bad as it had been this afternoon.

Though if he kept staring at me while I danced in place with the pre-drill girls, it would be. I didn't even have to look his way; I could feel his stare. And because of it, tonight's game was very long and tense.

As the fourth quarter began, my phone beeped to let me know I'd received a text message. But who in the world would text me? Team rules forbade cell-phone usage of any kind during a game, except when we took our third-quarter break. Feeling conspicuous, I nudged my already unzipped bag open farther so I could see my phone's lit display inside.

Want 2 grab some pizza after the game?

It was from Tristan.

I nearly squeaked. Without lifting my head, I peeked at him through my eyelashes. He was staring at the field as if watching the game. But I noticed a cell phone barely visible in his hands.

While pretending to search for something in my bag, I quickly text messaged back, Sorry, we can't. Then I turned off my phone and zipped up the bag so I wouldn't give in to the urge to check it again.

Sitting beside him now was excruciating. I only stayed in my seat a couple minutes longer, my cheeks burning the entire time, before I retreated to the pre-drill section and worked on teaching the freshmen a new bleacher routine. Mrs. Daniels's idea to give them something to do. When the game ended, I tried not to notice how his denim “escort” shirt accentuated his wide shoulders and narrow waist.

 

When I got home, I was surprised to find Mom in the kitchen, just removing a pizza from the oven. “Hey, hon! How was the game?”

“Oh, you're home! And to what do we owe this honor?” I joked as I gave her a quick hug.

“I know, I haven't been home much lately. What can I say? I've got demanding customers.” She slid the pizza onto a plate then took it to the table.

I grabbed us two sodas from the fridge and sat down with her. “Where's Nanna?”

“She already ate, and since she's got an early get-together with her crochet club in the morning, she went to bed already. It's just you and me, kiddo.”

We chewed in silence for a while. Nanna's snoring traveled through her closed bedroom door and echoed faintly up the hall to us, making my lips twitch with the urge to laugh.
Then I looked at Mom and saw she was trying not to laugh, too. We both burst out in laughter at the same time.

“Lord, that woman snores like a freight train,” she gasped when the giggles died down.

“Definitely.”

She sighed, still smiling. “You know, I really miss hanging out with you.”

My throat tightened. “I miss you, too.” I took a careful sip of my drink then found myself asking her, “Mom, why did you ever start to date my dad? I mean, weren't you scared to, since he was a vampire and all that?”

She surprised me by laughing. “Why does anyone ever break the rules? I thought they were stupid. Growing up, I heard so many stories about how terrible vampires were. Then I met your dad, and he was the complete opposite of everything I'd expected. He was kind, and funny, and charming. He made me laugh. And of course there was that whole mystery element to it, since I couldn't read his mind. Being with him was peaceful, a break from the constant chatter of the rest of the world. I thought the Clann was just unfairly prejudiced against vampires, especially after I fell in love with him.”

“You couldn't read his mind at all?”

“Nope. And it was such an unbelievable blessing! See, we witches can read the minds of fellow witches and humans. And vampires can read the minds of vampires and humans. But witches and vampires can't read each others' minds. It's probably a safety mechanism that developed over the years after warring with each other for centuries.”

Then another thought made it even harder to swallow or breathe. “Does that mean…you and Nanna can read my thoughts?” Just saying the words made my heartbeat race like
crazy. I clenched my hands into fists under the table so she wouldn't see them start to shake.

“No, we can't. Trying to read your thoughts is like trying to read your father's. It's like hitting a wall, even for a fairly powerful witch like your nanna.”

“So if you can't read my mind, does that mean I'm turning into a vampire for sure?”

“Not necessarily. It could just be that you have some vampire genes. Your father wasn't able to read your mind, either, last time you saw him. Who knows? Maybe the mix of genes will make you permanently immune to both sides' abilities.”

I could sure hope so. Otherwise, they would find out about Tristan, and my feelings for him, in no time. “So if being around Dad was so peaceful and all, and you were in love, why did you ever break up?”

She sighed, relaxing back in her chair. That made me relax and my hands were again reaching for pizza. “Because I grew up, and breaking the rules got old. Especially after you were born. The idea of constantly being on the run from not one but two international societies of witches and vampires with a baby on board was just too much. We started fighting all the time, over little things at first, then bigger issues, until it got to the point where I couldn't remember why being on the run with him was even worth it anymore. That's when we both realized it was over. Going against the flow might seem adventurous at first, but eventually you get worn-out. The river always wins.”

Something in her words, or maybe the softness in her voice, made my chest ache, like a heavy weight had just been dropped onto me. My eyes burned, and I had to blink sudden tears away.

“Oh, hon, don't be sad.” She leaned forward and covered my hands on the table with one of hers. “I had some good
times with your dad, too. And, hey, I got you out of the deal. What more could I ask for?” She grinned.

But I wasn't really feeling sad for her, so much as for myself and Tristan. Because Tristan was asking me to do the exact same thing my father had once asked of my mother…to go against the flow. To break the rules. To be adventurous.

Except I had a feeling Mom might be right. How could we ever win against both the vampire council and the Clann, if they found out about us?

The river always wins….

But even that didn't change how much I wanted him.

 

“Have dinner with me?”

Tristan had added something new to our morning and afternoon routine. Telling him no should have gotten easier, considering he was now asking me twice a day. But nothing about fighting the attraction between us was getting any easier.

Probably because deep down I didn't
want
to fight it.

By the end of a solid week of his new routine, I thought I really might go nuts. Five days of telling him no, I could not go out with him, twice a day, and every time he asked, all I wanted to do was shout
yes.
By Friday morning, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed a break from him. He was trying to wear me down with temptation. But he didn't understand; this wasn't about what I wanted. Mom and Nanna trusted me to follow the rules. I absolutely could not go out with him.

Still, I couldn't get the memory of our kiss out of my mind, and he seemed to find a thousand different reasons to be close to me or accidentally touch me. Every time I looked at him after yet another casual brush or bump, he seemed unaware of the contact. But no way did he not know what he was doing.

I wanted to scream.

The situation had started to affect my memory, too.

Tristan stunned both me and Mrs. Daniels at the start of Friday morning's practice by interrupting our pre-practice chat for the first time.

“You forgot this,” he said to me, handing me the director's headset for the MegaVox.

Oh, crap. I'd
never
forgotten her headset before. But why didn't he just hand it directly to Mrs. Daniels? I accepted the headset from him, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. His fingers brushed mine. Oh, of course. If he'd given the headset directly to Mrs. Daniels, then he couldn't touch my fingers and drive me even more crazy.

My temper shooting up, I snapped, “Thanks.”

I finished the conversation with the amused director, then stomped down the metal bleachers, my footsteps ringing clear as bells despite the fact that the captain was yelling out instructions for the team.

“Miss Savannah,” one of the freshmen managers said as I returned to the sound system. “Are you ready for us to go put out the game-day locker notes?”

“Yes,” I replied out of habit without looking up. We switched out this duty every other week with the cheerleaders and had it down to a science. Then I had an idea. “On second thought, wait. Let's change things up. Tristan needs to know how to do that, too. So one of you stay with me, and one of you go with him to put up the notes.” It was pure genius. Why hadn't I thought of this before?

“Which one—”

“Either, I don't care.” I was snapping at the poor freshmen now. Great. I took a deep breath, made myself smile a little and said in a softer tone, “You two decide.”

My forced smile turned into a real one when the girls had
to resort to a quick game of rock-paper-scissors to decide who would go. The victor gave a short squeal of delight.

Tristan scowled at me before walking off with the winner toward the school buildings.

Once he was gone from sight, I sighed and rolled the tension out of my shoulders. Carrying the sound system back to the office this morning wouldn't be fun, but I'd done it most of last summer without his help. I'd carry the heavier MegaVox so my manager could have the much lighter jam box. It would be worth it just to have a break from the relentless need I felt when around him. Plus, he wouldn't have a chance this morning to ask me out, since he always asked right after we locked up the sound system at the end of every practice.