Crave (8 page)

“Here, let me see again.” This time, Anne's voice was far from its usual command.

And suddenly, I did
not
want to make eye contact with her. I didn't want to see my best friend look at me and become afraid. Then again, maybe it was all in
how
I was looking back at them, and I just needed to relax. Maybe then they would settle down and it would be no big deal.

I slid my gaze up and over, seeing Anne's chin first, then her mouth and nose. I hesitated, took a deep breath, focused on being calm and hopefully projecting soothing thoughts with my eyes, then made direct eye contact. And heard her gasp.

Well, crap. That didn't work, either. My gaze dropped to the tray of food I no longer wanted as my head began to swim.

After a minute, Anne took a deep breath before saying, “It's okay, Sav. Your eyes aren't that different, at least not in a way I can really describe. They just seem kind of…intense for some reason.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Michelle said. “Reminds me of how my mom looked at me when I accidentally broke the coffee table last month. Like she wanted to kill me.”

“But I'm not mad!” I blurted out. “In fact, I was pretty dang happy a minute ago. That guy who just came over, Greg Stanwick, is a junior and a varsity soccer player. He just introduced himself out of the blue while we were in the food line. It was kind of weird actually….” Weird didn't even begin to cover all the recent things I'd been going through since last week. And couldn't talk about with them. How in the world could my friends believe me, much less understand? They hated the Clann. Michelle thought witches sacrificed small animals, Carrie was too practical to ever believe in vampires and Anne's Pentecostal family would
never
let her be friends with a half vampire/half witch. They barely liked her hanging out with a bunch of Methodists and Baptists. And I still hadn't figured out how she'd convinced them to let her wear jeans every day and cut her hair. The other Pentecostals on campus had to wear skirts and couldn't cut their hair, which they wore down to their knees.

“He's a junior?” Carrie said, her stiff posture melting around the edges a little.

“Ooh, and a varsity soccer player, too?” Nothing like a new piece of gossip to make Michelle sound like her old self again. She claimed she wanted to be a nurse and help Carrie in the operating room someday, but Anne and I had a private bet that she would end up working for a gossip magazine instead.

A little of the tightness in my chest eased as all three of my friends attacked the juicy news, and gradually the tidal wave of everyone else's emotions fell away. I forced a smile as I answered their questions about Greg and ended up giving a word-for-word playback of my earlier conversation with him. But I was careful never to look higher than their noses while I spoke. I didn't want to risk freaking them out again with my eyes.

My vampire eyes.

“Oh, speaking of boys acting weird,” Michelle said. “Savannah, you seem to have another fan.”

As soon as Michelle said the words, I could feel it. Tristan was staring at me from the Clann kids' table across the cafeteria. I didn't know how I knew it was him, but I would have bet a lot of money on it.

“And he's staring at you right now,” Michelle added with a grin, completely unsubtle in trying to bait my curiosity.

“Tristan Coleman, right?” I tried to keep my voice calm, hopefully even bored-sounding.

“How'd you know?” she gasped.

Because I can feel his gaze boring into the back of my dang head,
I wanted to growl. Instead I shrugged and tried to act like it didn't bug me.

“Well, I bet you didn't know that he was asking about you last week.” Pride flooded her voice. “He said he and the Clann girls at his lunch table had heard you were sick and were worried about you.”

Whoa. Tristan had noticed I was gone and asked about me? Out of personal interest, or for the Clann?

Anne snorted. “Oh, please. As if any of those spoiled brats care about anyone outside their elite little circle.”

Unless their parents had told them all about me, and now they were worried I would attack them in the halls.

“Well, why would he lie about it to me?” Michelle said.

“Maybe because he'd already asked me and I told him to mind his own business,” Anne said.

I stared at my best friend in surprised horror.

“Well, in so many words,” she added in a mumble.

“Why didn't you just tell him how I was doing?” I said.

“Because I honestly didn't know, okay? All your grandma would say was that you were sick and they weren't sure when you'd be back at school, but you weren't in the hospital. Besides, he's a mega…mega…” Anne scowled, her nose scrunching as she searched for the word she wanted.

“Megalomaniac?” I offered.

“Yeah. That!”

I sighed. “I'm sorry if I worried you. I really was…sick. In fact, I don't remember most of last week beyond Monday afternoon. I think I scared Mom and Nanna, too.” There, that was the truth. Mostly.

Three faces stared at me with open shock once again. I tried not to cringe in reaction. All this unexpected attention today made me want to find a hole to hide in.

“So what was wrong with you?” Anne said.

I shrugged and braced for the necessary lie. I would have to tell them it had been the flu. But the bell rang, cutting short the conversation. Thank goodness, too, because I really sucked at lying. And there was no way they would ever believe even half the stuff my family had told me this weekend. Hopefully they would just forget that I'd been out sick and had weird eyes now.

If I was lucky, maybe I could forget, too.

Tristan

My knees bounced beneath the descendants' table as I ate my lunch and watched the clock on the cafeteria wall. Two hours left until fourth-period algebra.

I'd made the lunch-chair trade with Dylan permanent, though he wasn't happy about it. But I'd had to pull rank on him; the view was better from his old seat. Or at least it had been, until the view showed a dark-haired boy, short and wiry, stopping at Savannah's table.

Probably one of her friends' boyfriends.

Except the guy was standing inches from Savannah and talking to her, not the others.

My knees stopped bouncing.

A classmate asking for help on an assignment? No, he looked too old to be a freshman like us.

I leaned sideways toward my sister. “Who's that guy?”

“Huh?” Emily looked around then smirked. “Oh, you mean the one talking to a certain—”

“Yeah.”

She got the hint and whispered, “Tell you in a minute.” Then she pretended to return to her lunch. But I noticed her casually scoping out the cafeteria every few seconds.

The guy braced one hand on Savannah's table, another hand on the back of her chair, and leaned down toward her.

I sat up, my hands clenching into fists on my thighs.
Back off. Now,
I thought to the would-be Romeo, adding a little magical push to the thought. Some humans were too thickheaded to pick up on Clann mental commands. This guy wasn't, thankfully. His head shot up and he looked toward me.

I knew I should be acting more casual in case the Clann noticed. But I'd lost control. I glared back at him, willing him to take a silent hint and get lost.

After a few seconds, he straightened up and walked away.

I eased down in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. But I still wanted to hit something.

Once the guy was several yards away from Savannah, Emily
leaned over and threw an arm around my shoulders. “That was Greg Stanwick. He's a junior. Plays on the varsity soccer team, so apparently he's good. I've heard he's pretty charming and doesn't mind dating younger girls. Like freshmen.”

A growl started in my chest. Not Savannah, he wouldn't. She needed someone…taller. Someone who didn't smile like a freaking game-show host.

“Youch. Want to ease up on the energy level there, little brother?” Emily peeled her arm from my shoulders and rubbed her skin through her shirtsleeve.

“Sorry,” I muttered and glanced around our table. Everyone was staring at me. “Sorry,” I called out to the entire group. Several of them rolled their eyes and rubbed their arms or the back of their necks, but everyone seemed to accept the apology and looked away again. Everyone except Dylan, who kept watching me with raised eyebrows. I shrugged in answer to his silent question. He could be nosier than a girl looking for gossip sometimes.

“You know that wouldn't happen if you would focus on your training,” Emily said.

“And you know I don't care about all that crap.”

“Too bad. The energy doesn't go away if you ignore it. It only gets worse.”

I tried ignoring her.

“Tristan, don't be moronic. If you don't learn to ground better—”

She nagged worse than our mother. “I grounded all weekend.”

“Are you sure you're doing it right?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. Then you might want to try grounding at school, too.”

“And how do I do that without looking crazy?”

She surprised me with a laugh. “Find a tree.”

“And then what, hit it?”

“No, make like a car and gas pump but in reverse. Siphon off some of your energy through the tree to the ground.”

“Good idea, sis. I'll keep that in mind for next time.” I faked a grin, hoping a little charm would convince her to drop the subject and get off my back.

She shook her head, seeing through me, but at least returned to her lunch.

Relaxing in my seat, I finished eating then headed for the trash cans. On my way back, I saw Stanwick at a table with two other guys. The soccer jerk was staring in Savannah's direction with a look on his face. The kind of look that said he was thinking about asking her out.

I should hit the guy now and save time. Except Jacksonville High had a zero-tolerance policy against fighting on campus. I would get suspended if I got caught. It would go on my permanent record, and colleges weren't thrilled about accepting students who went around beating up their classmates. And no college meant no chance of playing for the NFL.

Too bad Stanwick didn't play football instead….

Scowling, I returned to my table and grabbed my books. Our entire table froze, their heads turning to stare at me.

“Tristan Glenn Coleman,” Emily hissed. “Outside. Tree. Now.”

“I'm going, I'm going,” I grumbled and headed out the door for the nearest tree.

I found one a few yards away between the cafeteria's rear exit and the math building. Perfect. Now how to ground without looking like an idiot? I couldn't exactly hug the thing, not with all those students at the outside picnic tables for an audience. But I had to touch the tree with my hands somehow for it to work.

And then I figured it out. Leaning back against the tree like I was waiting for someone, I held my books against my thigh with one hand and let my free hand hang at my side. A turn of the wrist and my empty palm touched the rough bark. Taking a deep breath, I mentally reached inside, found the boiling flow of energy and willed it out through my hand to the tree.

The bark heated up. Aw, hell, I was going to start a fire. I slowed down the energy flow until the bark cooled. Better. I felt the resulting calm as the excess energy left me, and grinned. Yeah, that was much better.

The cafeteria doors opened, and four girls exited, one of them with red hair that seemed to glow in the sunlight. Savannah. She was laughing about something when a nearby table full of boys yelled out a greeting to Anne. Anne yelled back, and the group of girls split up as Anne and Savannah walked over to the table.

I gripped my books tighter.

Anne did all of the talking, stopping at one point to lean over and point out something in an open math book. The boys nodded and looked up at her. I recognized them from our algebra class.

I could tell the exact second when the boys noticed Savannah. Almost in a wave, one by one they froze, their easy smiles melting into blank stares. If not for Savannah's reaction and the fact that she wasn't in the Clann, I almost would've guessed that she'd just put a spell on them. But her smile faded away, too, and her chin ducked down to her chest. She hugged her notebook against her stomach and tugged on Anne's wrist. Anne studied the boys and scowled. Then the girls beat a fast exit.

Savannah looked back, maybe because she felt the boys still staring at her, and walked away faster. As the pair drew even
with me, Anne glanced my way then muttered something to Savannah. I was no expert at reading lips, especially from a distance, but it looked like she'd called me a stalker.

I almost laughed out loud. Me, a stalker? Please. But a glance back at the table of boys made me frown instead.
I
might not be a stalker, but…they were still staring at Savannah, their expressions zombielike. Savannah might be earning a stalker or three, after all.

Great. As if that Stanwick guy wasn't enough of a pain. If she kept this up, Savannah would have a line of dazed idiots trailing after her soon.

The tree bark started to burn again. I ripped my hand away and gave up on grounding for now. I'd have to be dead to get rid of all this extra energy. The descendants on campus would just have to get used to my power spikes for today.

Tristan

When I strolled along the catwalk toward algebra class an hour and a half later, I knew the descendants would all be feeling the power spikes yet again.

The creeps from lunch had cornered Savannah outside the math building.

The closer I got to the building, the better I could see her face. Any other girl who had three guys flirting with her would probably have been thrilled. But she wasn't. She looked murderous.

Yards away now, I noticed that her face was even paler than usual. Her movements were jerky, her shoulders hunched, her hands fisted around her notebook and backpack straps. Her fans seemed too dazed to notice her emotions, though, their pathetic faces eager as they continued to compete for her attention.

She glanced past them to me for a second. For help? Her cheeks turned red just before she looked past me like I was invisible.

She took a step sideways toward the building door. The creep on that side leaned against the wall, blocking her escape. She said something to him in a voice too low for me to make out. He laughed but didn't move. She tried to take a step between him and the guy in the middle. But all three closed ranks, leaving her no room to get through.

What the…?

Her eyes widened, and I was close enough now to see them turn moss-green. She stomped on the foot of the guy standing between her and the building entrance. He acted as if he were wearing steel-toed boots and couldn't feel a thing.

Time to step in, whether she wanted my help or not.

“Hey, Sav. You got a problem here?” I stopped a few feet away.

Her mouth opened like she was going to answer. But then she shut it and shook her head. Her chin rose a notch, and she looked through me again. Stubborn girl.

“Hiya, Sav, sorry I'm late,” Anne called out from behind me as she jogged up to us from the catwalk. Ah, so that's who Savannah had been looking at. “Excuse me, boys.” She barreled right through the creeps, grabbed Savannah's arm and kept going toward the building entrance like a bulldozer without brakes. “I got held up in English. Thanks for waiting for me.”

The girls made a quick escape into the building, Anne playing bodyguard at Savannah's board-stiff back. Huh. So it was okay for Anne to come to the rescue but not me. Not a surprise, but that actually kinda stung.

I stared at the three guys. They didn't notice me, their eyes blazing now as, like magnets, they shambled after the girls into the building. Whoa, now that was extra creepy. They looked like a bunch of possessed zombies.

What would these guys do if they caught Savannah
somewhere more private on campus, like in the girls' restrooms or a locker room or something?

I slammed the building door open, wincing as the metal handle hit the brick exterior.
Gotta get it under control, Coleman.

I took a deep breath as I entered the classroom. Mr. Chandler had just started class. Great. I'd have some time to think up a solution and make sure those guys left Savannah alone for good. Or maybe my sister would have some ideas. She was excellent at getting rid of creeps without their ever knowing it. It was one of the first things our dad had taught her once she'd started magic training.

I spent the lecture staring at the shaking strands of Savannah's ponytail and thinking about how best to convince Emily to break the rules and teach me herself. I was so busy planning that it took twenty minutes to notice the difference.

Savannah had done something to her hair.

I'd thought it was just the lighting in the cafeteria earlier. But her hair was definitely different. It used to be more of a fiery orangish-red. Now it was darker, with strands of deep red and brown running through it. And it was shinier, too.

And oh, man, did she smell good.

She still smelled like lavender. But the scent was stronger, warmer. More mysterious. And her skin looked extra good today. Especially right above the collar of her sweater…

I gulped and leaned back in my chair again as I tried to think straight. To remember all the reasons why kissing that curve where her neck and shoulder met would be a bad idea.

I had to pity the three creeps then. There was something about Savannah that went way beyond the normal attraction. I was only surprised that every male in the school hadn't gathered around her outside the building today.

A foot kicked my left leg.

My head shot up and I looked around. The lecture had
ended, everyone was working on the assignment…and Anne seemed ready to punch me. What now?

She wrote in big letters across her paper,
Quit staring!

I wasn't,
I wrote on my own paper big enough so she could read it.

Yes, you are. All you guys are such creeps,
she added on her paper.

Confused, I looked at her and mouthed the words
all you guys,
raising my eyebrows. What was she talking about?

Her head jerked to the right and back before she pretended to return to her work. But I could see she was just doodling on her paper.

I waited a minute then faked a silent yawn and stretch so I could glance behind us at the rest of the class. Sure enough, three pairs of male eyes were all locked in Savannah's direction. Their dark expressions said their thoughts were anything but nice.

The guys had gone well beyond stalker level straight to “lock me up, I'm a serial killer” in just two hours.

Oh, yeah, I was definitely going to have to do something about this. The question was…what? And how much time did I have to work with? I wrote,
I am NOT like them. But don't worry about those creeps. I'll take care of it.

Anne's eyebrows shot up, but she didn't write anything else on her paper.

When the bell rang, I took my time gathering up my books. Then I sensed somebody coming toward our group of desks. A quick glance behind me showed it was the Creepy Three. I spun out and around my desk, positioning myself between Savannah and them.

“Hey, Ron, think we've got a shot of making the varsity team next year?” I said to the guy seated in front of Anne at
Savannah's left. I wasn't surprised by Abernathy's confused expression as he looked around at me. Though we'd both played offensive JV football this year, Ron's family had just moved to Jacksonville last year, and he hadn't made many friends yet. He seemed like the quiet type, and until today we'd never spoken to each other outside of team time.

Ron must have been raised by parents who believed in being polite, though, because he didn't blow me off. “Maybe. I heard Coach Parker's getting desperate for some solid second-string players on varsity.”

I could feel three people hovering at my back, no doubt wishing I would move. Smothering a nasty grin, I spread my feet, crossed my arms over my chest and settled in. “That'd be sweet if we got moved up. Think we'd get any actual field time then?”

Ron shrugged. “Probably. You know how it is. Between grades and injuries, we might stand a good shot.”

Someone had the guts to tap my shoulder. I ought to break off those fingers. Instead, I ignored them and kept talking with Ron, discussing who might be most likely to get benched next fall for injuries or failing grades.

Unfortunately, Savannah and Anne appeared to be too deep in their own whispered conversation to notice the prime opportunity I'd given them to escape. Girls. They picked the worst times to turn chatty.

When Ron leaned away to grab his books, I cleared my throat. Anne looked up. I shot her a look that hopefully told her to get her skinny rear in gear. She got the hint, grabbed Savannah, and within half a minute the girls were leaving.

Just as I started to relax, I sensed the Creepy Three shifting as if to follow the girls.

“See you at practice,” I said to Ron then headed for the door, lengthening my stride so I would reach it before
the creeps. At the doorway, I turned and gave them my ugliest look.

They had the nerve to glare back at me, even though all three of them were a good half a foot shorter than me. Not to mention they couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds combined.

“I know you're not thinking what I think you're thinking,” I growled. Behind me, the math-building exit door banged shut.

They stared up at me. Man, they just had no clue what kind of danger they were in. I could beat all three of them into pulp in ten seconds flat and not even work up a sweat.

“Is there a problem, boys?” Mr. Chandler said from his desk.

“Yes, sir,” I said, working not to smile. “I could've sworn I just heard these three call you a fat, bald-headed little pig.”

Mr. Chandler stood up. “Well. Sounds like maybe you three should stay for a little chat with me.”

Confused, they turned to the teacher and started stammering. That ought to hold them for a while, at least long enough for the girls to reach the parking lot and their rides. Satisfied, I headed outside in time to see Savannah get into her grandma's car.

What I wasn't expecting was to see Anne stalking back toward the math building.

Curiosity made me call out to her, “Hey, where are you going?”

The building door opened behind us. I glanced back. The Creepy Three slunk through, giving me pathetic excuses for scary looks before they headed down the catwalk.

Anne's glare was much more impressive as she stared after them. “I'm going toad hunting.”

“Uh, I think the situation's under control now.”

“They made her shake! And did you see that look they just gave you? Do you really think they're going to leave her alone now?”

Frowning, I watched the toads in question stop at the other end of the catwalk and huddle. No telling what ideas they were coming up with.

“All right, I see your point. But why don't you let me handle them?”

“Why, because you think I'll get hurt?” She sneered.

“No. I'm sure you could take them. But I think a simple man-to-man talk is a better solution.” I felt my mood darken with all the things I'd like that talk to include.

Her eyes narrowed. “You really like her, don't you?”

I blinked a few times. “Why would you think that? Just because I want to help someone out…”

“Jeez, all you boys are the same. What, did you grow up on stories about Camelot or something? You know, contrary to popular Southern male opinion, not every female is a damsel in distress just sitting around waiting to be rescued by Lance lot, or whatever. We can take care of ourselves.”

“Actually, I've always thought of myself more as a King Arthur type. You know, take charge, lead the troops and all that,” I joked.

She snorted. “Oh, of course your ego would be king-size.”

“Hey, whatever it takes to get the job done.”

“Uh-huh. Okay, Arthur, we'll see how you do with the toads.”

“That's
King
Arthur to you.”

“Don't hold your breath for that one.” She headed for the parking lot, then stopped after a few yards and turned back. “You really think I could've taken them?”

I laughed. “Oh, yeah. Easily.”

“Good answer, Coleman! You
might
actually be good enough for her someday,” she yelled back.

I cringed and glanced around, but thankfully no one seemed to be paying attention.

I checked my watch, cursed and broke into a jog toward the field house, bracing myself for the punishment I'd get for being late. Laps, probably, at least five of them. Maybe more depending on Coach Parker's mood today. Oh, well. It'd be worth it. Along the way, I tried to figure out what I would do about the Creepy Three. Or the toads, as Anne had called them.

I had to focus during weight training. Part of my punishment for my lateness was being paired up with some wimpy kid who needed a spotter to save him from the evil bench press every few seconds. But as soon as practice ended and I finished all ten laps around the outdoor track that ringed the practice field, my brain went right back to the problem at hand.

All joking aside, Anne's claim that she could take care of the boys herself was overconfident. Sure, maybe she and Savannah could handle one boy. Maybe two. But three at a time? No way. And what about when Savannah wasn't with Anne?

I had options, though none of them were great. Beating up the toads would make my fists happy and ensure the jerks got the point. But there was that whole problem with Jacksonville High's no-violence policy again.

I could settle for threatening them instead, but I doubted they'd be smart enough to listen and stay away from Savannah.

That left me with only one solution that couldn't be traced back to me, at least by normal methods, and would take the choice away from the creeps. For that, I'd need my sister's help.

I got to the car before Emily. Kicking back, I propped my feet on the dashboard and waited. I must have drifted off.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Emily tossed her poms onto my face as she got in. “Get those grubby feet off my dash, please.” Using her index finger like a wand, she magically lifted my feet in the air for a few seconds. Man, I hated it when she used telekinesis on me! It made me feel like a puppet. Seriously creepy. Not to mention the small pinpricks that raced over my skin whenever she used magic around me. And that was just from a tiny use of power.

Swatting away the annoying piles of plastic, I sat up. The sun was already setting. “What took you so long?”

“Cheerleading practice. Remember? Cheerleaders have to train hard, too.”

“Uh-huh.” I frowned at the fast-sinking sun then glanced at my watch and swore. I was running out of time, and no way could I risk waiting another day to get rid of Savannah's stalker club. “Listen, sis. I really need your help. And I know what you're going to say, but hear me out first, okay?”

Her eyebrows rose, but she nodded and started the car.

As we drove, I gave her a quick rundown about Savannah's newest fans and how scared she'd looked. I might have played it up a little, but they had acted half crazed over her, and she'd seemed pretty upset at the end of class. “So, I need your help.”