Crave (40 page)

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Authors: Melissa Darnell

BOOK: Crave
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COVET:
Book 2 of THE CLANN

The world hummed around us in our luxurious surroundings of white leather, exotic wood trim and gleaming gold accents. The boy I loved more than my own life sat beside me, a slight smile curving his lips, his arms wrapped around me. Protecting me even in his sleep.

I should have been protecting him instead.

He had to be uncomfortable, sleeping while sitting upright against the side of the private plane. I'd tried to get him to move to one of the reclining leather chairs when his eyelids had begun to droop. But Tristan had refused, claiming he preferred sitting on the floor so he could hold me properly.

And knowing what was coming for us, I'd given in. I wasn't too eager to let go of him, either.

One stray, golden-blond curl, rebellious like its owner, flopped over his forehead. Carefully I reached up and smoothed it back.

He sighed and snuggled me closer. Though I was practically already in his lap, my legs draped across his thighs, so I wasn't sure how much closer we could get.

I studied Tristan's face, relaxed and peaceful in sleep, and another tear slipped down the side of my nose. Stupid tears.
I hadn't managed to stop crying since we'd safely exited the council's underground labyrinth of tunnels. Knowing what I had to do for Tristan's own safety after the plane touched down outside of Jacksonville, I feared the tears would never stop.

So many perfectly logical and good reasons why I was all wrong for him, why I had to do what everyone else wanted and stop seeing him. My mind understood. Why couldn't my heart agree?

I closed my eyes and burrowed closer against him. I would do it. I would keep my promise to the council and to myself. Just…not yet. A few more hours while we were on this plane together, a few more precious memories to make before we landed so I would remember how it felt to be held and loved by him. How it felt to wrap my arms around his waist, feel his hard chest beneath my cheek, hear his heartbeat pounding beneath my ear. To feel safe within his arms, his strong hands holding me like I was a precious treasure…

“Savannah,” a familiar voice whispered like an annoying mosquito near my ear.

“Mmm,” I mumbled, wanting that voice to go away. Only one male's voice was welcome right now, and that one wasn't it.

“Savannah, wake up,” Dad insisted.

Scowling, I cracked open one eyelid. Quieter than the sound of a breath, knowing his vampire ears would still hear, I sighed. “Yes, Dad?”

“We are an hour away from landing, and the pilot warned that we will be landing in bad weather. You should call your grandmother and mother and let them know.” He held out his cell phone.

I took it, and he left again, disappearing toward the front of the cabin.

I tried to ease from Tristan's arms. But as soon as I moved, he woke up.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I need to make some calls. Go back to sleep.”

“No, I'm okay.” He tugged me back onto his lap, nuzzling my nose for a kiss. At the last second, I turned my head so his lips touched my cheek instead. He leaned his head back to search my face, his heavy-lidded gaze hurt and confused.

“We shouldn't…not until we land and you can draw some energy.” His ability to pull up energy from the earth through direct contact with the ground was the only thing that had saved him a few days ago after too long a kiss with me and a fight with Dylan Williams. Otherwise he might have died that night.

He frowned but nodded, letting me up but holding on to my hand. His unusual need to touch me constantly over the past few hours made me wonder. Did he somehow know what the council had made me promise to do? Or had the council's test simply left him on edge and worried about me?

I moved to the nearby leather chair and dialed my home phone number one-handed.

The phone rang four times, then the answering machine clicked on. I glanced at my watch. It was 10:00 a.m. on a Sunday. Nanna, who my mother and I lived with, should be home and getting ready for church. Why wasn't she answering?

I tried again, thinking maybe she was in her room getting dressed. Again, I got the answering machine. This time I left a message.

Weird. Unease crept in as I called my mother's cell phone next. She was probably still on her latest sales trip.

Mom answered on the first ring, startling me. Unlike Nanna, Mom seldom had a signal while she was delivering emergency safety products and chemicals to forestry clients out in the fields and woods.

“Hey, Mom. Just wanted to let you know I'm okay and—”

“Savannah! Oh, thank God. I, we, your grandma…” Mom
sounded hysterical. “I was at a convention. I'm on my way home now. But I'm still hours away from Jacksonville and—”

My hands convulsed around both the phone and Tristan's hand involuntarily. “Mom? What's the matter? Slow down.”

Tristan rolled up to his feet and moved to sit in the chair beside me, his thick eyebrows drawn together. He was a beautiful distraction I had to look away from, even as the strength of his hand kept me grounded.

“Sav, they took your nanna! They called me, and—”

“Whoa, what? Who took her?” Cold fear ran through my veins, along with disbelief.

“The Clann. They called me, asking about that Coleman boy as if I would know where he is. For some reason, they think you two are involved or something. I tried to tell them that was a mistake, that you'd never break the rules like that. But they didn't believe me.”

I cringed and tried to tug my hand from Tristan's, but he simply encased my hand between both of his. The heat from his hands made me realize how cold I was becoming. A symptom of the vampire side within me kicking in. Not good.

“But they insisted he was with you,” Mom continued. “I told them he couldn't be, that you were on a trip with your father, and they went crazy. They said they have your nanna, and they won't release her until we bring the Coleman boy back. I tried calling her, but she's not answering. They couldn't really have kidnapped her, could they?”

Holy crap. “Mom, hang on and let me talk to Dad.”

Dad must have been listening in the front cabin, because he immediately joined us and took the phone. While Mom told him what was going on, I stared at Tristan and tried to absorb my mother's words.

“The Clann…they've kidnapped my grandmother,” I told him, still in disbelief.

“They wouldn't do that,” Tristan insisted, his full lips
pressing themselves into thin lines. “There's been some mistake.”

I told him word for word what my mother had said. When I finished, he sat back in his chair, his normally tan face turning pale.

“I'll fix this. Give me a phone and I'll call my parents,” Tristan promised me.

“Joan, we are half an hour from landing now. I will handle this and call you back when I have news.” Dad ended the call then handed the phone to Tristan, his face as stoic as ever.

Tristan tried his father's cell phone first, then his mother's and even his sister Emily's. But no one answered. Frowning, he tried a few other Clann descendants' home and cell phones. No one was answering.

“I don't understand. Wouldn't they be waiting for your call?” I said.

“Yes. Unless…” Tristan looked away for a moment, then his gaze snapped back to mine, his jaw clenching. “Unless they're already meeting at the Circle and using power. It could block all incoming radio and cell-phone signals, if they've raised enough power together.”

“Why would they raise a lot of power together?” I asked, not sure I really wanted to hear the answer.

Tristan stared at me, obviously unwilling to hurt me.

I couldn't look at him anymore, my throat so tight it hurt just to breathe. If anything happened to Nanna, if Tristan's fellow descendants did something to her, the fault would be completely ours. We'd broken the rules to be together. I'd thought the vampire council was our only real worry, that the Clann couldn't do anything more to my family since we were already cast out.

I was wrong.

ISBN: 978-1-4592-1534-4

CRAVE

Copyright © 2011 by Melissa Darnell

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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