Could the Clann force Ron and his family to help them hunt us?
I swallowed against a growing knot in my throat. We were buried deep in the woods two states away from the Clann’s Jacksonville headquarters. How would the Keepers scent us down—by following the smell of our car exhaust?
“I took every precaution possible during our trip,” Dad said. “And we will stay away from the surrounding towns to lessen the humans’ knowledge of our presence here. Nevertheless, we must remain cautious. If you sense any sort of magic being used, you must let me know at once. They may try to use a spell to track us down if they become truly determined.”
Oh, great. I hadn’t thought of that, either.
Like all Clann descendants, I had the ability to feel when magic was being used nearby. It would hit me as a sensation of pins and needles stabbing the back of my neck and arms. But I was still new to using my Clann abilities and, as an outcast of the Clann since before my birth, I was also completely self-taught. There was so much I didn’t know about magic. How far away could it be used on someone? Would I feel that spell if the user was physically far away from me?
Then I remembered who I was talking to and froze.
Both the Clann and the vampire council had demanded my mother and grandmother never teach me how to use magic. But I’d broken that rule and secretly learned how to anyway. Until last night, I’d worked especially hard to keep my growing Clann abilities a secret from my dad, because the vampire council could read his every thought.
This was the first time Dad had openly acknowledged he knew I could use magic.
He must have seen me throwing defensive spells last night in the Circle. The council members probably had seen it, too. During the heat of the battle while blocking and returning spells, hiding my new abilities had been the absolute last thing on my mind.
I didn’t know whether to be relieved that my final secret was out, or even more worried. “Has the council said anything to you about my new...um, skills?”
He shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line. “I suspect they are waiting to see how Tristan’s training turns out first. It would not be strategically wise of them to risk upsetting the only two vampires in the world who also have magical abilities, especially when one of them is currently so unstable and the treaty with the Clann is in question. But eventually I do expect them to call both of you in for...a discussion.”
Great. The last time the council had summoned me to their headquarters in Paris, they’d kidnapped Tristan and used him to test my ability to resist the bloodlust for Clann blood, the most powerful temptation to any vamp alive. I’d passed the test, but barely.
I had zero desire to see how a ticked-off, newly turned Tristan would react to facing the council in their headquarters.
I pressed a shaky hand to my pounding temple. One crisis at a time. First we had to stabilize Tristan, make it safe for him to be around others again. Then we’d deal with the council.
“So about Tristan’s training,” I said. “You’ve got a plan, right?”
“Not exactly.”
I turned to stare at him. “You’re joking, right? You’re over three hundred years old. You’ve probably trained tons of fledglings by now.”
“You are my only fledgling still alive.”
“What happened to the ones who came before me?”
“There was only one. In the first hundred years of my immortal life, Gowin was busy with his many other fledglings and I became lonely and disillusioned by my existence. I foolishly attempted to turn a dying friend so that I might have a companion, someone to speak with about our unique trials and tribulations.”
My heartbeat raced. “What happened?”
“I failed to help him overcome the initial hurdle of the bloodlust.”
“So the council...?”
“My fledgling was out of control despite my best efforts, and ultimately I could not argue with the council’s decision to put him down.”
Put him down?
Oh. He meant they’d killed his first fledgling.
And since I was a dhampir instead of a full vamp, my version of training probably didn’t count toward Dad’s true track record as a vamp sire. Which meant Dad didn’t know what he was doing, either.
“Why do y’all have to call it that?” I whispered, trying not to picture Tristan facing the council’s wrath if Dad and I failed to teach him self-control. “They’re not animals to be ‘put down.’ They’re people.”
“When the council decides to end a fledgling’s existence, believe me, it is not because that fledgling is exhibiting any higher form of civilized traits. They are animals, driven by nothing other than the base need to feed. ‘Putting them down’ is the only apt way to describe it. It is an act of compassion made with the understanding that the person that fledgling once was can never be brought back in any shape or form, thus hopefully saving both the fledgling’s soul along with all the souls of the lives they would otherwise take from this world.”
I stared at my dad, sensing both the quick buzzing quality of his emotions in the air between us and hearing his thoughts. I’d never seen him so wound up like this, both afraid and desperate and ashamed all at the same time. Ashamed of his previous failure, fearful that we would fail again and this time it would be my fledgling who would face the council’s ultimate punishment.
But my dad was a three-hundred-year-old vamp and a former member of the council. He was supposed to have all the answers.
“What about asking the council for advice?” I said.
“Even council members occasionally fail with their fledglings. You become a council member for your age and political skills, not because you know more than everyone else in the community. Besides, our situation with the council is already exceedingly tenuous, and I have no desire to further sway them toward making any hasty decisions. As it is, they are alarmed beyond measure at the thought of not one but two vamps with magical abilities who might one day rise up against them. If they believe we are incapable of training Tristan to control himself...”
He didn’t have to finish that thought. My imagination could fill in the gap all too easily.
“What about asking for help from other vamps not on the council? Somebody out there’s got to have this training stuff down by now.”
He continued to stare off into the distance, letting silence answer for him.
“So we just have to figure this out on our own?” I couldn’t breathe as the enormity of what we were facing crashed over me.
“I am sorry to disappoint you, Savannah, but there is no Vampire Training for Dummies guide to assist us, no vampire fledgling school to send him to. Every fledgling is a unique case, this one more so than ever. I can only try the methods my sire utilized with me during my initial days as a vamp while you attempt to keep Tristan calm and guide him to avoid using his Clann abilities. It is the best that we can do.”
So we were alone in this. Pass or fail, it was all up to us and only us to figure out how to bring an irrational, moody amnesiac vamp with magic skills far beyond my own back from the proverbial ledge. And to do it, we would be using antiquated training methods that had already failed my dad once. Worse, those training methods had been passed down from the very same vampire councilman who had gone rogue, tried to rip out Tristan’s heart and caused this entire mess in the first place.