“Who says they need to know how the information will be used? You know Dad’s been waiting for you to start taking your training seriously. So why not make our dear old dad happy for a change?”
I stared ahead into the gloom of the dim garage, thinking over everything Emily was and wasn’t saying.
She was right. Dad did want me to “buckle down and train harder”—harped on it, in fact. And self-defense was the first thing he’d taught Emily after she’d learned to ground her energy. So the odds were pretty good that I could get him to start on the same type of stuff with me. A hint or two from me about being ready to focus and needing help in the self-defense area should do it. But would I learn what I needed to fast enough to help Savannah? The Creepy Three might come to their senses with a little distance, time and sleep tonight. Or they might not. What if they were making plans right now to catch her alone somewhere?
“What time did Dad say he’d be home tonight?”
Emily glanced at her watch with a smile. “In half an hour.”
I jumped out of the car, leaving my books on the seat. “I’d better go change.”
“Don’t you need your books?”
I shook my head and gave her a grim smile. “I’ll be too busy. Got a different kind of homework tonight.”
“Okay. Just be sure to ask Dad how to do a targeted memory confusion spell. Every time those creeps try to get near Savannah, they’ll become confused and go away again. Put it in something small to hide in her backpack, and you’re all set.”
“Thanks.” I shot her a grin then ran inside and up to my room.
Savannah
I thought about telling my family about today’s algebra class. But they all seemed stressed about me already. I knew if I told them, Dad would have to tell the vampire council. Both the Clann and the council already thought I was a ticking time bomb. If they knew I was changing already, what would they do? Would they take me out of school? Would they take me away from Nanna and Mom and my friends?
So on the way home from dance class, I decided to give it another day and see what happened. Then if I felt like I really couldn’t handle things, I would ask for help.
“Hey, hon, how was your day?” Mom called from her couch office as Nanna and I entered the house. Mom seemed tense, her elbows braced on her knees, her cell phone strangely quiet for once. Had she been waiting for me to come home and report?
“It was fine. But I really need a shower now. Ballet and jazz class were …” Great. Fabulous. Amazing. “Brutal.” I made a beeline for the bathroom so neither of them could see my face while I lied. “What’s for dinner?”
I should have known avoiding them wouldn’t be so easy.
Mom came into the bathroom just as I was pouring on the shampoo. Great, now I was trapped for at least the next few minutes. Knowing my mother, she’d probably timed it that way, too.
“Did you have any … issues today?” she asked, obviously trying and failing to sound casual.
My throat choked up. Part of me was desperate to wimp out and tell her everything.
I slid open the frosted-glass door an inch and peeked at her. Worry lines creased her forehead. I shut the door again and scrubbed my hair faster. “It was fine. Though dancing today was … different. My dancing is a lot better now.”
Silence.
Finally, she said, “Define ‘a lot.’”
“Um, like I was able to get my splits down to the floor finally. And I learned how to do high kicks and turns and leaps without taking out any of the other students for a change.”
She laughed. “Well, that sounds good, then. Anything else?”
Besides the fact that I seemed to have created a scary new fan club and my friends couldn’t stand it when I looked them in the eye? “Nope.”
“Okay. Well, I’d better go help your grandma get dinner ready. I’m glad you had a good day.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll be out in a minute.” My stomach, already knotted and rolling with acid, cramped at the idea of eating. Lying could make a really good diet plan for me, if it didn’t kill me first.
She left the room, shutting the door behind her, and I found I could suddenly breathe again.
Now all I had to do was pray that tomorrow would prove none of us had anything to worry about in the first place.
Tristan
I took a deep breath at his study door then knocked. “Come in,” Dad’s voice boomed out. Inside, I was surprised to find Emily already there. She gave him a hug.
“Thanks for listening, Daddy,” she said as she walked toward me and the door.
“Anytime, Princess,” he replied, a big smile barely visible beneath his bushy silver beard.
Huh? I searched Emily’s face, trying to figure out why she was here. She never came to Dad’s study, preferring to chat with him either at the dinner table or while they played golf together.
She gave me a sneaky two thumbs-up before she passed me and left the room. She was up to something. I’d have to trust that it was helpful somehow.
“Hello, son. Come and have a seat.” He sounded stern, his smile gone now.
Trying to act relaxed, I sat in one of the two leather chairs before his massive oak desk.
“Dressed for sports?” He loosened his tie and sat back down in his desk chair.
I glanced down at the hoodie and sweatpants I’d changed into. “Yeah, training practice.”
“Hmm. Yes. Well, that reminds me. I’m glad you came in here. I heard you had a bit of trouble today at school?”
My hands nearly clenched up before I could stop them. What had Emily told him? “Yeah, a little.”
“She also said you needed her help?”
Emily wouldn’t have ratted on me about our conversation in the car. Would she?
“I see.” He must have misunderstood my silence for an answer. “So the grounding training hasn’t helped?”
Oh. So Emily had told him about my power spikes instead. “Well, sort of. She told me how to ground by using a tree at school. And it helped.”
“Mmm-hmm. But it sounds like you still have a lot of excess energy?” He took another sip of his drink, picked up a letter on his desk and began to read it in silence.
I was losing his attention already. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about, sir. I’ve still got a lot of energy sometimes, even with the grounding. And I was thinking today that maybe it keeps building up because I’m not putting it to good use.”
His sharp green eyes bored into me. He dropped the letter and set down his drink on his desk blotter, the dull thud loud in the too-quiet room. “Go on.”
Had I already messed up? “So I was thinking … maybe it’s time for me to really focus on my training. Emily said the powers won’t go away by ignoring them. But if I could learn how to use them—”
“Stop right there.”
Crap, I’d already screwed up somehow. I held my breath.
He rose from his chair and came around the desk toward me. “You’re saying that, after months of refusing to work on your training, now you’re ready to buckle down and learn?”
I cleared my throat,