Dad grabbed my shoulders, his hands ice cold as usual.
Distracted, I frowned down at his hands. Ice-cold hands …
“Savannah, stop this right now,” he said. “We are trying to have a serious conversation with you. You are not asleep. You are perfectly awake and lucid. And you need to learn what you are, and what you may become, before anyone gets hurt. There are certain … symptoms you will need to watch out for now.”
The first glimmer of anger flared up in my stomach. Ordinarily I was careful about what I said to him, always trying so hard to be what he wanted, to say the right thing so he would be proud of me, love me. But I was too tired and freaked out right now to try and be perfect. And I’d had more than enough of this family prank.
“Dad, you can stop worrying. There’s no way I’m gonna be jumping on anyone or sending things flying Carrie-style at school….” A sudden memory flashed through my mind of that Christmas when Mom sent plates and other objects flying at him. Weird. I couldn’t remember the plates actually leaving her hands now. Goose bumps raced over my skin.
“Well, of course you won’t turn into Carrie.” Mom laughed. “Because we won’t be teaching you magic.”
“It is the bloodlust we are more concerned about,” Dad said. “And if you do not learn to control it, you very well might end up jumping on people at school.”
Giving in to the insanity for a second, I huffed out a short sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ve got a question for you. Why now? I mean, let’s pretend y’all are serious, you’re not messing with me here, and I’m not hallucinating. If you’re truly vamps and witches, then why tell me now and not before?”
“Because we couldn’t wait any longer,” Mom said, rising to her feet and taking my hand. “We wanted you to have a normal life for as long as possible. But when the teas stopped working and we couldn’t prevent your first monthly cycle any longer—”
“Oh, ew!” Dad was right there! Then I realized what she’d said and frowned. “Wait. Did you just say you gave me tea to … prevent … that?”
Nanna nodded. “We gave you a special tea every day that delayed your puberty.”
“Until I was fifteen?” Horror made me shriek. All my friends had had their periods since they were twelve and thirteen. All this time I’d been feeling like a freak of nature because I was such a late bloomer. “Why would you do that to me?”
“Because puberty’s done exactly what we feared,” Nanna snapped. “It’s triggered your dormant genes. Now they’re all waking up, and heaven only knows what’s going to happen next. And watch your tone, missy—we’re still your parents.”
Reaching behind me, I felt for the bed then sank onto the edge of it before my knees could give out.
“Hon, I know it’s a lot to absorb all at once,” Mom said. “I swear, if we could have avoided telling you, we would have. We were so hoping you wouldn’t take after either side and would be … well, normal. But it’s just too dangerous now for you not to know. Your being sick for a whole week is a strong sign that one or both sides might begin to kick in. Which means you could start developing any number of abilities or impulses. If and when you do, we all need to be ready so we can help you learn to control them.”
Impulses. Abilities. What was I, some sort of wild animal about to go out of control?
Mom sat down beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “You could try to think of it as if you were learning you have just an ordinary hereditary illness. Your parents’ genes have predisposed you toward developing certain … issues in life. But they might or might not affect your daily life. We just have to all be prepared in case they do.”
“You mean, in case I start to develop a taste for blood?” I couldn’t believe I was even saying this.
Dad’s nod made it even more surreal. “You could begin to crave human blood. Your gaze might begin to have adverse effects on others when you look at them. Heightened reflexes, physical speed and mental processes are all possible. And then, of course, there is the possibility of fangs.”
Fangs. O. M. Freakin’ G. He sounded like one of those drug-commercial announcers rattling off possible side effects.
“Or strange things may start to happen when you get upset,” Mom added. “Like … “
“Like flying plates,” Nanna said, a hint of a snicker in her voice. As if any of this were funny.
Mom glared at her. “That wasn’t an accident. Now if I’d set the kitchen on fire …”
And that’s when I realized they were serious about this. This wasn’t a prank, and unless I woke up soon, I wasn’t dreaming, either.
Which meant … I was half vampire, half witch. And all freak. Just like the Brat Twins had been saying for years. Oh, crap. “The Clann. Do they all know …?” I remembered the way the Brat Twins called me “freak” all the time and seemed scared of me sometimes…. They definitely knew. Did Tristan know, too?
“The adults know. The kids don’t,” Mom said. “At least, the elders swore they wouldn’t tell the younger descendants after they cast us out. Only the adult descendants were supposed to be warned.”
Nanna grunted. “Now, whether the elders actually kept that promise …”
“Why do the adults know about me? And what do you mean, cast out?”
It was Nanna and Mom’s turn to look confused. Mom was the one to answer. “We thought you’d figured that part out already. Our family used to be in the Clann, too. Magic is what ties all of Jacksonville’s founding families together in the first place. I’m sure you must have heard at least a rumor or two about it.”
Jacksonville’s gossip grapevine had it right, then. “So the Clann are all witches. Like a coven.”
Mom and Nanna both nodded.
“But … we go to church,” I argued, trying to wrap my mind around the idea that the Brat Twins were witches in more than just a figurative way. Not to mention Tristan.
Holy heck. Tristan was a witch.
“Magic isn’t a religion for us like it is for Wiccans,” Nanna said. “Most of the Clann’s descendants are Christians who just happen to be gifted with the ability to do magic. It’s genetics, not a lifestyle choice.”
Yeah, and I was sure everyone here in the Bible Belt of East Texas would really understand that distinction.
When I could make my brain work again, another thought hit me. “Wait. Dad, if you’re a vampire, how can you go out in the daylight? And what about garlic, and holy water, and—”
“Vampires are like any other species, Savannah. We have evolved over the years. Sunlight no longer hurts us. Garlic and holy items never did—that was just religious propaganda. We all started out as humans with souls. Only our bodies have been changed by the hybrid vampire blood.”
I pressed a shaking hand to my forehead, which was pounding out a rhythm I couldn’t keep up with. “Okay. So you’re saying I might, or might not, start turning into an even bigger freak.”
“Stop saying that word,” Mom grumbled. “The proper term is dhampir.”
“So there are others like me?”
“No,” Dad answered. “Until your birth, dhampirs were a myth among our kind. We did not believe our race of vampires could procreate because of the demon mix in our origin’s lineage. And no vampire in our