Mom dished up bowls of the Jell-O "cake" to everyone. She made my portion half the size of everyone else's, sneaking me a knowing smile and a wink as she set it on the table before me.
"Ready for your presents, birthday girl?" she said.
Michelle and Carrie jumped up and started passing me gifts. Usually I liked to take my time opening presents, enjoying the suspense. But this time I ripped through the packages, pretending to be too busy opening them to eat. The mound of gift wrap grew before me, covering my untouched bowl, which Mom carefully made sure to take away along with the paper later and sneak into the trash.
Dad's creative excuse for not eating was that he'd eaten earlier and was still full. He kept busy by taking photos of the entire event with Mom's camera, which I later realized also gave him the perfect excuse to avoid appearing in any of the photos.
Maybe I should have been taking notes. Watching him at this event was like sitting in on a demonstration in Sneaky Vampire 101.
I could tell from everyone's thoughts that Dad had already given Mom and the girls a tour of the place before my arrival. They were bowled over by how much nicer the house was compared to their expectations. Anne had told Carrie and Michelle that she'd nearly gotten into a fight with her mother just to get permission to enter the "lead-filled rat's nest" tonight. Now they were all having the opposite problem, trying not to show how intimidated they were by Dad's newest showcase while worrying that I'd become too rich to want to hang out with them anymore.
I tried not to laugh out loud, but it took some real effort. If they only knew how much I feared they wouldn't want to be my friend anymore because of my family secrets...
To help set them at ease, after the presents, I talked Michelle, Carrie, and Mom into joining me in the newly refinished parlor to sing on the karaoke machine Michelle had brought over. We went through several songs from our favorite movie and TV soundtracks, as well as my favorite, "Raise Your Glass," which I threw myself into at the top of my totally untalented lungs. Like riding four-wheelers at Anne's party, it was a much-needed chance to forget myself for a while, and it helped everyone else relax and loosen up.
Well, everyone but my dad, Anne and Ron, that is.
At some point, Mom left to join Dad in cleaning up the kitchen, and I noticed Anne and Ron were missing. Movement outside the parlor windows drew my eye to the front porch. They were out there talking, the streetlights turning them into featureless silhouettes as Ron braced his hands against the front railing and Anne paced. Unfortunately the windows and front door were all closed, blocking me from hearing their voices or their thoughts.
What was going on? Were they finally working through their issues?
Part of me wanted to go outside, see if they needed a mediator. Especially with Anne's hotheaded temper.
"Oooh, let's do this one!" Michelle jabbed a finger at the back of a CD case in Carrie's hand.
"What do you say?" Carrie asked, turning to me with a smile. "Ready for one last number before we have to leave?"
"Leave?" Michelle whined. "But..."
Carrie held up a hand. "Don't even start! You know I've got to study for that test, and you promised you'd help me with the flash cards."
Grumbling, Michelle bent over to start the new song.
This time, I had to force myself to go through the motions of singing with them. Halfway through the song, the shadows at the window disappeared, and seconds later Anne and Ron came back inside, Ron staying back to shut the door.
"What's up?" I whispered to her.
She shook her head, her lips pressed together, her arms hugging herself for either warmth or comfort. She entered the parlor but didn't join us at the karaoke machine, choosing to flop into an armchair by the window across from us instead.
Ron hovered in the parlor's arched doorway, leaning against the shiny white molding with the worst frown I'd ever seen on his face.
I focused on Anne's thoughts. She was already replaying the tail end of the conversation and regretting it.
You can't be serious! she'd snapped at him then instantly wished she'd said it in a nicer tone. Savannah doesn't need to know this stuff any more than I did.
Well, my parents and I all think you're wrong, Miss Know It All, he'd said. They gave me permission to tell her. And I think it would help her feel a lot better about herself.
And just when and where do you plan on springing this crap on her?
I don't know. Maybe tomorrow where I always go? Why?
So I know when to expect her totally ticked off phone call, of course!
Anne... He'd reached out to her, touched her bare arm, made her shiver before she'd turned away from both his touch and that yearning in his voice.
Just stop. It's never going to work between us, and you know it. I was never the right girl for you. You should...you should be with someone like you. One of your own kind.
And though Anne hadn't said it out loud to him, she'd thought to herself, someone who isn't so plain and boring and hopelessly clueless about all of this stuff. Someone who could possibly be interesting enough to keep you from getting bored with her.
And that's when she'd headed inside with Ron on her heels.
Oh Anne, I thought, shaking my head and wishing I could admit I'd heard her thoughts so I could cross the room and give the both of them a hug.
Why were they so determined to be stubborn?
And what the heck was Ron planning on telling me that worried Anne so much?
Ron slipped away to the kitchen. I heard him murmuring something to my mom, but they were too far away for me to pick up their thoughts.
"Okay, that's it, pack it up," Carrie ordered Michelle when the song ended a few seconds later. "Study time."
Grumbling, Michelle took the CD out of the karaoke machine and returned it to its case.
The machine seemed heavy, judging by the grunt Carrie made when she tried to lift it by its handle. Smiling, I said, "Here, let me. You guys get the CDs and the mike."
Carrie rolled up the microphone's cord while Michelle collected the CDs. Then we lugged our respective loads toward the foyer.
"Don't mind us doing all the heavy lifting here," Carrie called out to Anne as we passed her.
Lost in thought, Anne muttered, "Okay."
Carrie, Michelle and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised, then continued on through the foyer and out to Michelle's car. I thanked them for everything, watched them leave, then headed back inside just as Ron was leaving the kitchen.
"See you tomorrow," he murmured to me while glancing through the parlor doorway at Anne. "And, uh, happy birthday."
"Thanks. Bye."
Rubbing the back of his neck, he left through the front door.
Anne twisted in her chair in time to watch him through the window. I waited till the throaty rumble of his car had faded away before saying her name.
She jerked back to face me with a scowl. "Crap, you scared the crap out of me!"
"Well, crap, sorry about that," I teased, hands on my hips. "And sorry about the unexpected guest."
She shrugged one shoulder, her fingers drumming on the arm of the chair. "It's fine. Sooner or later we would have been stuck in the same room together anyways."
"Are you okay?" I murmured.
"Sure," she answered automatically. "Why wouldn't I be?"
I didn't have to read her mind again to know that was a lie. But I didn't press her.
After a minute of silence, she sighed and seemed to realize where she was again. "Hey, where'd Carrie and Michelle go?"
"They left to go study for Carrie's next big test."
She frowned. "Oh. Guess I didn't hear them leave." She rolled up to her feet. "Well, happy birthday."
"Thanks."
I walked with her to the front door. She paused at the threshold, turning back with her mouth parted as if to say something.
"Yes?" I prompted her. She looked like a robot that had run out of batteries.
"Um, nothing. G'night. See you tomorrow." With a little wave over her shoulder that reminded me of Ron, she slowly walked out to her truck.
Several minutes after she'd climbed into the cab, Anne's truck finally backed out of the driveway into the street, the back right tire running up over the curb before she pulled forward toward her home.
Wow. That was the most distracted I'd ever seen her. Whatever was going on between her and Ron was really messing with Anne's mind.
Blowing out a long and loud breath, I went back inside the house to see what emotional destruction my parents might be wreaking upon each other in the kitchen.
They were sitting at the banquet opposite each other. And they looked...peaceful.
It was way more shocking than if I had walked in on Mom throwing plates at Dad again.
"Er, what's up?" I asked them, searching Mom's face then Dad's, unsure I dared to go a step further and check their thoughts. I might not like whatever I'd find there.
"Hmm?" Mom asked. "Oh, nothing dear. Just reminiscing about the day you were born."
Dad smiled. "You were so beautiful, so..."
"Amazing," they both said at the same time, then grinned at each other.
Okay. "That's...nice. Um, Mom, shouldn't you be...?" I jerked my head in the direction of her RV.
"Oh! Right. That reminds me, we have one more present for you!"
A creak of the front door was our only warning before we heard Gowin call out from the foyer, "Hey, did I miss the party?"
Dad and I exchanged horrified looks.
"Mom, you should go," I hissed. "Out the back. Quick!"
Too late. Footsteps announced Gowin's arrival in the kitchen. I turned to face him, my heart hammering like mad in my chest.
Two vamps, one half vamp, and a descendant all in a room that suddenly felt way too small.
It was like the beginning of a bad joke. Unfortunately, this was no laughing matter.
"Oh, I interrupted a family moment!" Gowin rocked back on his heels, fidgeting with a silver-and-pink-wrapped present he'd brought in. "My apologies. I just wanted to drop this off for Savannah."
He held out the present, staying where he was in the doorway.
I crossed the room to him and put on a smile. "Thanks. You shouldn't have."
He shot me a quick grin. "It's the latest tablet. I figured you could use it for doing homework or tweeting or something."
"Oh. Great! Thanks." I sounded like an idiot. Or a cheerleader robot. But it was all I could do not to throw myself in front of my mother for protection. Not that doing any such thing would save her if Gowin lost control.
Mom rose to her feet. "Wow. That was very generous of you," she murmured as she crossed the room with her right hand extended. "I'm Joan Evans, Savannah's mother. You must be..."
Oh geez, she had to be Miss Manners now?
Visions of Gowin lunging for Mom's throat, followed by Dad either trying to fight him off or else joining in on the bloodbath, robbed me of the ability to breathe. Mom couldn't do magic, so she'd be completely vulnerable. And even if Dad tried to step in and save Mom, Gowin could simply order him to stop and Dad would be helpless not to obey the older vamp's command. Which would leave one wimpy half vamp with only minimal magic skills as Mom's sole protector.
Dad was at her side in the same instant Gowin accepted her hand between both of his. "This is Gowin. My sire, and currently a council member."
Mom froze. "Oh! Uh...it's nice to meet you, Gowin."
"I have heard so much about you," Gowin said, his voice soft and low.
Was that the faintest bit of a wolfish gleam in his eyes, or was it my imagination?
Gowin turned to me, but I noticed he still held Mom's hand captive between his. "I thought I might be still early for the party since your truck isn't outside. Did your father gift you with a new car?"
"Um, not exactly," I said. "My truck died. My friend took a look at the engine and said the electrical system is fried. He had to give me a ride home."
Gowin made a face. "Now that stinks. And on your birthday, too."
Mom smiled, but it looked a good deal less warm this time. "That's what I told her earlier. Well, no worries, I'm sure your father can have it towed to a repair shop tomorrow."
"Or to a junkyard," Dad muttered.
Mom scowled. "Don't start, Michael. It's a perfectly decent first vehicle for any teen."
"It was a rust bucket long overdue for retirement," Dad replied. "And I for one am glad its life span has finally reached its conclusion. It makes the perfect opportunity to get her a proper vehicle. Perhaps one of her own choosing this time?"
"That is so like you," Mom snapped. "Why fix something perfectly good when you can simply throw it away?"
Dad stared at her. "I believe that is more your usual method, actually."
Silence filled the room as Mom's face turned bright red and she glared at him. I was blocking all three of their thoughts as hard as I could right now.
After a long moment, she said, "Fine. You're in charge now. Do whatever you want. But no motorcycles. At least give me that much. She doesn't have a license for them. And she's only seventeen."
Dad nodded as formally as if this were some kind of major vamp/Clann negotiation. "Agreed. No motorcycles."
I took a deep breath then let it out slowly. And my friends wondered why I didn't want my parents to get back together. If I had to deal with this kind of crap on a daily basis, I'd have to run away from home!
I cleared my throat. "Um, thanks for the gift, Gowin. Mom was just headed out. She has to get on the road for a sales meeting early in the morning. Right, Mom?"
She glanced at me, then Gowin, then my dad. "Right. Sav, will you come with me for that one last present I promised? It's in the RV."
"Sure!" I tried not to wince at how overly bright and chirpy that came out.
"It was a pleasure to meet you." Gowin gave my mother's hand a quick squeeze then released it. Finally! I thought he was going to chop it off and keep it as a souvenir or something.
"And the same to you," she said. She looked at Dad, and a wave of sadness and regret projected from her to add its weight to my shoulders. "Good to see you again, Michael."
"You, too," Dad murmured, his eyes warm. Then he stepped aside so we could pass between him and Gowin.
As Mom and I headed for the foyer, I glanced back at the kitchen. The vamps were still facing off in the doorway. Were they about to fight like territorial animals?
My rising panic allowed the vamps' thoughts to slip through.
Still in love with what you can't have, old friend? Gowin thought with a smile and a shake of his head. You always were a bit of a masochist.
Dad sighed. Do not worry, I have learned my lesson amply. I will not risk giving in to the bloodlust around Joan. And with her mother gone and all traces of her bloodlust dampening spell along with her...
Mmm, Gowin thought in sympathetic regret. Such a loss, that one.
I hustled Mom out the front door and down the porch steps.
As Mom stepped onto the lawn, she hesitated, and I caught her thought. I'm in the dark alone with a new vamp and no protective charms.
I froze, glad she couldn't read my mind or see my face as the hurt from her fear slammed through me.
No, she decided a second later. She is my daughter, Michael said she has good control, and I will trust them both.
She continued across the lawn and up the steps of her camper trailer, pausing at the door to look back at me in confusion. "You coming, kiddo?"
Smiling, I made sure I walked human-slow across the lawn to join her.
As soon as we entered the RV, I heard the yapping. "Is that...a dog?"
Mom's face turned mischievous. "That, sweetie, is the surprise." She hurried past the wall containing an electric fireplace and flat screen TV combo to the master bedroom, scooping up a furry brown-and-black miniature missile as it attempted to careen past her feet toward me. "Meet Lucy, your birthday gift!"
The dog wouldn't stop barking. I worried Mom's arms were in danger while holding it, but the thing seemed to want to eat only me for now. "Wow. You, um, shouldn't have."
Mom grinned down at the dog, stroking the long glossy hair at the back of its head. In an apparent attempt to make the thing cute, a pink-and-brown polka-dotted bow held up a tuft of hair between its pointy ears. The bow was now in danger of falling off due to the energy the dog was throwing into its every bark.
"She just needs to get used to you," Mom said, raising her voice to be heard over the barking. "She's usually a real sweetheart! Your dad and I went halvsies on the fee for her, but I picked her out myself at the breeders'. She's a purebred Yorkie."
More like a purebred demon spawn from Hell. "That's great."
"Want to hold her?"
Which was like saying Do you want to have your fingers chewed off?
"Um, maybe we should let her settle down first."
"Okay." Mom moved to sit on the couch. Holding the dog to her chest with one arm, she freed the other to pat the seat beside her. "Come catch me up on everything. Feels like I haven't seen you in forever!"
Keeping an eye on the dog as its beady black eyes watched my every move, I sat down across from Mom.
The demon dog switched from barking to snarling. "She's really lovely."
"Isn't she the best?" Mom beamed down at the dog, raising it up to her face. My heart stopped as visions of the thing gnawing off her nose raced through my mind. But it only licked her cheek, then returned to growling at me. "She's such a good protector. And a great little friend to have around, too. I've gotta admit, I'm going to miss her company. But at least I can always come for a visit with both my girls, right?"
"Right." I tried to imagine that furry thing in my house. It would probably either claim the underside of the couch as its own, biting the ankles of all who passed by, or else it would wait under my bed like an assassin, waiting for me to enter my bedroom unsuspecting.
Of course, there was always that face-eating option when I was asleep and at my most vulnerable, too.
"So whose idea was it?" I asked.
"Your father's. He called me a couple of days ago and asked if I could pick out a toy-size dog for you. He let me choose the breed and everything!"
Dad had suggested they get me a dog? That must mean vamps didn't terrify all dogs. Just this one. Either that, or there was something else specifically about me that it hated.
"You should hold out a hand, let her get used to your smell," Mom said.
Everything inside me said, Oh heck no!
"Go on," Mom said.
Holding my breath, I slowly inched a hand out toward them, Mom all encouraging smiles, the dog all bared teeth and eyes full of don't you dare. When my hand was inches away, the dog tried to lunge out of Mom's arms and bite me. Only my vamp reflexes saved me from losing who knew how many fingers.
Holy crap.
Mom frowned and tapped the dog's nose with her finger, which I guessed passed for punishment. "Lucy, no! You have to be nice to your new mommy so she'll love you."
"Er, Mom, I was thinking...I'm so busy with homework and Charmers and tai chi training, I wouldn't really have time for a pet right now. I mean, she's cute and all..." The demon dog growled louder. "But she'd be alone most of the time. Maybe you could keep her for me, just for a while till my schedule settles down?"
"Oh, sort of like Grandma babysitting her grandbaby?" Mom looked down at the furball and crooned, "Would you like to stay with your meemaw? Would you?" It licked the end of her nose several times, and I tried not to barf. "You would, wouldn't you? Aww, Lucy loves her meemaw!" Mom raised her head, all smiles. "I think that's a great idea! She can keep me company, and the minute you're ready for her, you just give me a call and we'll be here in a flash."
Right. Don't hold your breath for that one. "Thanks, Mom." I started to lean forward and hug her, nearly forgetting the demon dog. It snapped a reminder at me, and I darted back.
She put the dog in her bedroom again so we could talk in relative peace, though it kept yapping from behind the closed door. We talked for an hour, getting caught up on Mom's work gossip and what little news I could pass on about Anne and Ron's breakup, which Mom had been following like a soap opera via updates from me every time she called.
"That Ron Abernathy boy...he's a good friend to you?" she asked oh-so-casually.
Misunderstanding her tone, I laughed. "I have no interest in dating Anne's ex. He and I are friends and study buddies for chem and English lit, but that's all."
"Ah. So you're pretty good friends then."
I shrugged. "Mostly we talk about homework and chem labs and Anne. He's still in love with her, I think. And she's definitely still hung up on him, though she'd rather die than admit it. I'm hoping they'll get back together eventually."
"Well, he's a pretty good friend for you to have around." Her tone was all approval. "I'm glad you reached out to him."
Whatever. I still wasn't going to date him, no matter how much Mom not-so-subtly nudged me in that direction.
When it got late, I reluctantly hugged Mom goodbye, thanked her for "watching my gift," then headed back into the house. Gowin had left. I found Dad alone in the kitchen taking down the decorations.
I jumped in to help, and he tried to wave me off. "It is a school night. You should get some rest."
"It's not that late. And the least I can do is help the host clean up after my surprise party. Thanks for throwing it, by the way."
He nodded and smiled. "I am glad I could finally be a part of your birthday party celebrations. So how did you like your surprise gift?"
Knowing he expected the truth and wouldn't get offended, I didn't hesitate to answer. "Oh lord. Dad, that thing is a demon dog. It hates me!" Hastily I added, "But don't tell Mom, okay? She thinks I'm letting her keep it because my schedule's too busy for a pet."
One corner of Dad's mouth twitched. "I thought that might happen."
"Really? Why?"
"You are half vampire. Animals do not generally take to us all that well. They sense the predator within us."
"And yet you suggested Mom get me a dog." Then I read the truth in his mind. "It was never really for me, was it?"
Dad shrugged. "Your mother has always wanted a little dog. But her pride has never allowed her to buy one. She felt having one would be too much of a personal indulgence. However, her tone when she calls you has held a certain note of loneliness of late, and she is in need of some protection while on the road. A small dog seemed the perfect solution. So I simply...manufactured an opportunity for her to finally have one at half the cost."
"Why not just buy her one and be upfront about it?"
"She would never accept such a gift from me. She would not even allow me to pay for the dog outright when it was supposed to be your gift."
"Yeah, she mentioned you two went in on it together." Leaning a hip on the counter, I crossed my arms and studied him. "You still love her, don't you?"
He did not look at me, intently focused on taking down the crepe paper looped through the antique chandelier over the banquet. "Love does not necessarily die just because the other person involved no longer wishes to be with you."
A wave of longing swept over me, so intense I couldn't tell if it was my father's heartbreak or my own I was feeling.
Swallowing hard, I said, "You know, I think I'm tired after all. I'm going to bed."
"Good night, Savannah. And happy birthday."
On the way out of the kitchen, I spotted Gowin's gift on the counter, still gleaming in its silver-and-pink wrapping. After a couple seconds' hesitation, I grabbed the box of high-tech gear and took it upstairs. At least I had one birthday gift that wouldn't try to eat me.
As soon as my dreams began later that night, I found myself in Tristan's backyard.
I looked around, knowing he had to be here somewhere. The dream felt too real, too sharp and vivid to be anything other than a connected dream. I could practically feel his presence on my skin.
But even though I could feel him watching me, Tristan was nowhere in sight. I sat down on the grass, pulled up my knees to my chest under my long nightgown, and used my legs as a pillow for my cheek. I closed my eyes, wondering how long it would take for him to lose his patience and show himself.
A mouthwatering smell drove my dream self's eyelids open again in fear. Descendant blood?
Nope. It turned out to be a birthday cake, round and several layers thick, sitting on a silver platter to my left in the perfectly trimmed grass. And I knew just what kind of cake it would be.
I poked a finger into the top layer, scooping out a little. Red velvet cake with vanilla frosting. My favorite. Tristan had remembered.
But he obviously hadn't remembered something else...I was a vampire now. I couldn't eat this stuff anymore without barfing it back up.
Except...in real life my birthday cake had smelled awful.
Hesitant, I took a small taste and moaned. Just the way red velvet cake was supposed to taste.
I imagined a fork, and one appeared on the plate's rim. "Thanks Tristan," I whispered to the cake's creator before digging in.
On Thursday at lunch, Anne was acting weird. I put it down to her argument with Ron at my party last night. Tempted as I was to read her mind for confirmation, I resisted the urge. My patience was partially rewarded when she walked out with me at the end of the break.
As soon as we reached the catwalk, she grabbed my elbow to stop me. "Listen, there's something I've got to tell you. Or at least I want to, but I can't. See, it's someone else's secret, and I promised I'd keep it...."
Pinpricks of pain erupted along my neck and arms, and Anne's voice faded away from my mind. Tristan must be around somewhere.
I half turned in time to see Dylan start up the ramp that led from the cafeteria's sidewalk up to the catwalk where we were standing not ten yards away. Great.
Instinctively my shoulders began to hunch up toward my ears. I forced them down, lifted my chin, and worked to stay calm.
He stopped not six inches away from me, his height forcing me to crane my head back to look up at him. On Tristan, the height difference was nice, making me feel protected, sheltered. With Dylan, it was the definition of looming. He towered over me, he knew it set me on edge, and he liked it.
"I guess I should say thanks," I said, keeping my voice even though it wanted to shake.
He grinned. "Oh yeah? What for?"
"My truck's electrical system is fried."
"Aw, that's too bad. Do you need a ride to school? I could swing by your crypt in the mornings for you."
"That won't be necessary. My dad's getting me a brand-new car to replace it." I let the acid drip into my tone now. "Which is why I should thank you. If not for your...help...yesterday, I might still be stuck driving that old truck instead of a sleek, custom new ride soon."
Dylan's smile faded, and mine grew.
He leaned over me. "Stick around, and your electrical system won't be the only thing that gets fried around here."
Yawning, I pretended to study my nails. "You've really got to get a new routine. This one's beyond boring."
His eyes flared then narrowed. "I keep repeating myself because you're not hearing me. Why can't you get a clue? Nobody wants you here. Get out of Jacksonville."
Spit flew from his mouth and landed on my cheek, and everything inside me wanted to take a step away from him. But I was sick of running and hiding, and I'd trained for months for this moment. So I calmly wiped my cheek, lifted my chin and dared him to make eye contact with me.
"This is my hometown, Williams. I like it here. I'm not going anywhere." So what are you going to do about it?
He stared down at my mouth, and the darkness within him ramped up several notches. But underneath it, the driving emotion was fear. He was...afraid. Of me? I dug deeper into his mind. No, his dad. He was afraid of what his dad would do to him if he couldn't find a way to push me hard enough.
But his dad didn't really want me to leave town. That was Dylan's wish, and the reasons behind it were too jumbled to make out. His dad wanted...something else. Something bigger. Something too complex for me to understand from the too-brief images and snatches of conversation swirling within Dylan's mind.
"What does he really want?" I murmured. As I leaned in close to him, I heard his heart beat faster. "Tell me, Dylan. What does your dad really want?"
Fear swamped him. "You can read Clann minds now? What did you hear?"
Before I could react, Dylan's hand shot out and clamped around my throat, lifting me onto my toes as I gasped for air. He backed me up until I was pressed against the metal railing of the catwalk.
"Get out of my head!" he shouted, his eyes wild. "Do you hear me? Stay out of my head!"
But I could barely hear him over the noise of his thoughts, ramped up to full volume apparently by the contact of his skin at my neck.
In his memory, Dylan screamed, his body on fire from head to toe, as his father stood over him shouting.
Why haven't you done what I asked?
I tried! Dylan said. But they're too smart. Savannah's never going to let him break the rules again.
You will find a way, son, or so help me...
Anne hissed out a curse at my side. Then there was a loud thunk as a small, tanned fist crossed my field of vision and connected with Dylan's nose, followed by a crunching sound.
Shock filled his eyes a split second before the pain registered, driving him to release me. Dropping his books, Dylan bent over with a groan and held his nose with both hands.
But he wasn't the only one in pain.
Anne had turned the other way, hunched over at the waist, cradling her right wrist against her body as she moaned.
"Anne!" I tried to touch her wrist to see how badly it was hurt.
"Oh ow! Stop!" she cried out. "Oh God, I think it's broken."
Behind us I heard movement. I looked back. Dylan had straightened up. He held his nose between both of his flattened palms and made a shifting motion. There was another crunching sound that made my stomach roll over as he realigned his nose.
Then needles of pain jabbed at the back of my neck and arms.
The trickle of blood beneath his nose stopped, reversed direction then disappeared.
The stabbing sensation all over my skin stopped, and Dylan sneered.
"There. It's good as new already," he said.
Anne tried to stand up straight, but the pain kept her hunched over. She glowered at him over her shoulder.
He laughed. "Looks like you might have broken your hand there, Albright. Let's see how you finish the volleyball season like that."
Still laughing, Dylan gathered up his books and sauntered off down the catwalk toward the main hall.
As soon as he was gone, Anne collapsed onto the cement, rocking and cursing. "Sav, my wrist...I think it really is broken!" She looked up at me, her face stark with fear and pain. "What do I do?"
I looked at it. Unless Anne had developed amazing flexibility in her wrist that allowed her thumb to naturally rest a mere inch away from her forearm, it was definitely broken.
"We have to get you to the nurse," I said, grabbing her shoulders and trying to help her up to her feet.
"No! I'll miss the tournament tomorrow."
She'd be missing way more games than that. She'd be out of commission for the rest of the year.
"Can't you do something to fix it?" she pleaded, shocking me.
"Like what?"
"You know, something witchy." She hissed that last part as if afraid others would hear us despite the fact that we were the only people on the catwalk.
I glanced at my watch, my heart racing even faster. We had only minutes till the bell, and the cafeteria would be emptying a flood of people soon. Including a lot of descendants. Already students were trickling in singles and pairs through its various exits, though most were passing below us to the other ground level areas of the campus.
Oh boy. Was I ready for this? Could I even fix it? What if I made it worse?
"Please," she whimpered.
Anne never whimpered. Or moaned. Or begged.
She'd broken her wrist and jeopardized the rest of her volleyball season for me. The least I could do was try.
"If this doesn't work, swear to me that you'll go to the nurse," I told her.
She nodded. "I swear."
"Hold out both wrists."
She did, and I carefully laid a palm on both of them, memorizing the shape and feel of her uninjured wrist so I could have some idea of what I was aiming for. Carrie, with all her medical studies and desire to be a doctor, would have been so much better prepared for this.
If I did this wrong, or somehow set the bones back incorrectly...
No. I would not paralyze my best friend. Anne was counting on me, and I would get this right. I had to. Besides, Nanna said all magic was created from my will and my intentions. And I intended to do this right.
I closed my eyes, focused on her broken wrist and envisioned the snapped bones within it realigning to match the good wrist. She started to cry out, then pressed her lips together so it became a whimper instead.
"Sorry, almost done," I muttered.
I told the bones, now realigned, to knit together, putting all of my will and determination into it. I imagined my energy flowing out of my left hand into her broken wrist.
"It's getting warm," she whispered. "And it's stopped throbbing. I think it's working!"
I nodded but kept my eyes closed, continuing to send my will and energy into the broken bones.
Then the bell rang and the cafeteria doors burst open. Time was up.
"How does it feel?" I asked.
"Better. Still hurts, but not as bad."
"Try not to use it," I said.
"For how long?"
"I don't know, I'm not a doctor!" I muttered, grabbing her books from where she'd dropped them on the cement. "Anne, are you sure you don't want to go to the nurse? I really think you should have it looked at. What if I set it wrong, or-"
Slowly she circled her right hand, then looked up at me. "I think it's okay."
I blew out a long breath and shook my head. "If it starts to hurt again, or feels weird or-"
"Yes, Dr. Sav, I will get it checked out by a professional," she said in an ultra deep and somber tone, one corner of her mouth twitching. She reached for her books.
"Use the other hand!" I blurted out.
But if Anne was joking around again, she must be feeling better.
"Yes ma'am!" She used her right hand to salute me. Then she grinned and relaxed. "And thanks, Sav. You just saved my volleyball career."
"No. Thank you for that awesome right hook."
"I can't believe he actually tried to choke you," she muttered as we walked along the catwalk. "Maybe I should make an anonymous tip to the principal or something. Then again, his dad's on the school board, so unless Sav agrees to press charges..."
Staring straight ahead of us, I clenched my back teeth. "At this very second, I would love nothing more than to press charges against Dylan. But then Tristan would hear about it and do something stupid, and that's what Dylan's dad wants. We can't give them what they want. So no anonymous tips, okay?"
I wasn't letting the fact that his father was abusing him with magic sway my emotions. Really I wasn't. Just because Dylan's dad was a magical bully didn't mean Dylan had the right to ever touch a female, much less choke one.
But I also refused to let my anger sway me into making the exact tactical error they wanted me to.
She stopped beside me. "Excuse me? I didn't say anything."
I stopped, too. "Yes, you did. You were going on and on about making anonymous tips and-"
"No, I didn't. I thought it, but I didn't say it." Her eyes narrowed. "You can read minds now, can't you! That's why he was so freaked out."
I gave her a sheepish smile. "Um, surprise?"
Growling, she started walking again. "If you hadn't just fixed my wrist, I swear... How long have you been able to read minds?"
I shrugged one shoulder. "A few months, I think?"
She growled. "And all you can say is 'surprise.' You know, I'm going to remember tonight that you said that. Oh, by the way, Ron said he'll be giving you a ride home after practice. He said he already worked it out with your parents last night at the party. He has something to tell you in private."
"Ron does?" I pretended confusion as I opened the heavy metal and glass main building's rear exit doors for her then followed her inside to the main hall. "About what?"
"You'll find out." With a dark, smug grin, she gave me a wave over her shoulder with her right hand. "See you later."
About time. This should be interesting.
