SAVANNAH
The next morning, as soon as I ended the dream with Tristan I ran downstairs, found Dad in the living room reading a newspaper and told him what had happened to Tristan's father.
He jumped to his feet then froze, losing the few humanlike traits he had. Finally he breathed and blinked again. "This is...quite disturbing news."
"Has the council made any headway in tracking down the New York Clann killer?" Restless and needing something to focus on, I started looking around for the paperback I'd dropped here last night when Tristan called.
"They have Gowin working on it."
That explained why I hadn't seen him around much lately.
"I do not believe they have any new clues," Dad continued. "I have not spoken with him in some time, though, so I am not sure. He has been quite busy with the investigation and reporting to the council. Whom I must now call with this news regarding the Clann's leader."
"Um, while you have them on the phone, maybe you could see if they want to keep in contact with Tristan, just in case he gets chosen as the new leader?" I dropped down onto my knees and peered under the couch. No paperback book. "It might be a good idea for them to start working on some kind of friendship. Or maybe the council has an official ambassador or something who could represent them in talking with the Clann?"
I stood up again in time to catch Dad's frown. "No, we do not have anything like that. Peace was created only a few decades ago."
He was kidding, right? I rested a hand on one hip. "Okay, I know you're hundreds of years old, so to you maybe a few decades doesn't seem that long. But to a descendant, that could literally be over half a lifetime. You really need some kind of official rep who can meet with the Clann elders every so often to make sure everything's all good between the groups."
He continued to frown at me. "We always assumed any vampire who attempted to make contact with the Clann leader would be set on fire or staked."
What a drama vamp. "I'm pretty sure the tradition of killing the messenger went out of style a few centuries ago."
"You would be surprised."
"Well, I'm just saying Tristan might become the new Clann leader in a week, and it would be smart if the council made some kind of official outreach effort to him. His dad was just murdered by what looks to be a vamp attack. Not to mention the tiny fact that the council kidnapped Tristan last spring. They haven't exactly made the best of first impressions on him and his family, you know."
Dad had covered the couch with pages of newspaper, making it impossible to sit down anywhere. I began gathering it up.
After a minute, I heard him say, "Perhaps you would make the ideal ambassador."
I whirled around in horror. "Me? No way. Leave me out of it. I hate that vampire politics crap-"
"Though I did not actually speak those words, that is indeed what I was thinking," Dad muttered, his face darkening into a scowl.
Oh crap. I'd read his mind. Not good. And now he knew it, and soon the vamp council would too...
There went any hope of a normal life I might have ever had.
"Forget it, Dad. I don't care what the council says or demands." I shook a handful of wadded-up newspaper at him. "I'm not going to spy on the Clann for you guys. And I'm not going to be any ambassador, either. I mean, come on! Besides the fact that I'm only seventeen and completely clueless about playing the political game, I want to have a life of my own. A normal life, or at least as normal as possible. Playing peace ambassador doesn't fit in with that." Seeing how I'd mangled one sheet of the newspaper already, I gave up trying to refold the rest of it and settled for tossing the whole stack onto the coffee table so I could check under the sofa cushions for my book.
"At least consider it." Dad remained standing, staring down at me. "Now that you quite obviously can read vampire-and I assume Clann-minds, you are uniquely positioned to always be able to discern the truth from the lies that either side might attempt to employ. And you already have a...connection to the descendant who, as you pointed out, may very well become the next Clann leader. The...friendship has already been forged."
"Your...pauses already point out why that's a bad idea." Aha! There it was, under some papers on the floor under the coffee table. I snatched up the paperback and tried to figure out which page I'd stopped at last night.
"Or a very good one. He listens to you, values your opinion."
"I'm not using my history with Tristan to push the council's agendas."
"You are seeing it from the wrong angle. I am merely suggesting that, rather than having to get to know some strange and as you would say 'ancient' vampire, Tristan already knows one who is his age. Someone he trusts and is capable of having logical discussions with. Someone who also happens to be the daughter of a former councilman who-"
"Who clearly is still looking for a way back onto the council," I grumbled.
"-who still converses regularly with the council and could easily pass on any of Tristan's concerns or requests," he finished with a glare.
I really hated to see his point. But I did. Still, it seemed an invitation to trouble at the same time. And then I had the perfect argument.
"The council will never go for it. Remember? They made me promise to stay away from him."
One thick black eyebrow arched. "They have also been known to change their collective minds when it suits their needs."
Whatever. They would still never choose me as vamp ambassador. Not as long as Tristan was my contact with the Clann and there was any risk that my feelings for him might overwhelm my reasoning and cause me to lose control and kill him. Dad was just trying to lose the argument gracefully. I flipped through the pages until I found the spot where I'd last read.
"Also, you are not going to school this week," he ordered, walking from living room to kitchen to parlor to living room and back. Where is that blasted cell phone? And why must the makers forever insist on making them smaller and smaller?
He'd managed to lose his cell phone somewhere in this house yet again. What was this, the seventeenth time? Or the twentieth?
"Fine. Want me to call it?"
"Call what?"
"Your phone. That's what you're looking for, right?"
Pulling himself up straight, he puffed out his chest and scowled. "Stop reading my mind, please. It is rude. And I am a vampire. I do not lose things."
"I can't help the mind-reading thing any more than you can help overhearing my phone conversations when I'm in my room. It doesn't have an on/off switch. And even vamps can lose itty bitty phones that tend to fall out of the pocket of their slacks every time they sit down to read the newspaper." On a hunch, I dug in between the cushions and the back of the couch to my left, then held up his phone.
"Hmpf." He took the phone and flipped it open, then paused. "Now about your missing school this week-"
"Are you going to call the school, or should I?"
He stared at me through narrowed eyes. "You are not arguing with me about it?"
"Nope. Why would I want to be anywhere near that campus this week? Do you have any idea how bad the descendants will be now that their leader's been killed? Besides, it's exhausting dealing with them all the time as it is."
And now with Tristan gone all week... He would be preparing for his dad's funeral. And becoming even more out of my reach as a boyfriend.
The memory of his breaking down in front of me last night jolted through me. I'd never seen him like that. At first, I hadn't realized he was even crying while I held him. He had been so quiet. It was only when he leaned away and I felt the dampness on my shoulder that I'd understood my shirt was wet from his tears.
He'd always been so...strong. So confident and sure and capable of handling absolutely anything.
Every time I thought about how much he must trust me in order to lose control in front of me like that, I got choked up and teary-eyed.
"I am glad you see this my way," Dad said. Then he circled around in front of me and frowned. He tilted my book so he could read the title on the cover. "The Art of War makes you tearful?"
I sighed and rubbed the back of a hand over my cheeks. "I'm not seeing it your way. It's just common sense. Sun Tzu says you have to pick your battles, so that's what I'm doing. And don't worry about the tears. I was just...remembering something sad."
"Other than the constant tears, which were also an unfortunate habit of your mother's, your mother was never this easy to deal with." He searched my face as if he thought I was plotting to sneak out the first chance I got.
I resisted the urge to read his mind for confirmation. "Mom isn't a vampire."
"Hmm. Yes, there is the blessing of my genes to factor in. Now, do I want to know why you are reading Sun Tzu?"
"School assignment," I lied without even looking up. Actually, I had started reading it thinking it would help me pick and choose my battles with the Clann. Now that Tristan might become Clann leader, I wanted to read it today in case he ever needed some leadership advice. But Dad didn't need to know that.
Maybe this was how vamps got to be good at lying. They were forced to do it so much that it became second nature.
"Hmpf." He dialed a series of numbers on his phone so fast that even I couldn't make out which buttons he pushed. Into the phone he said something in another language that sounded vaguely like French at super high speed. After a few seconds, he walked away, speaking in English to Caravass about Tristan's dad and the elections.
Alone in the living room, I tried to read. But every few seconds, I caught my attention drifting. I was too restless. My body didn't want to sit still. I needed something more physical to do. Maybe some tai chi? Sighing, I tossed the book onto the coffee table and returned to my room.
I turned on my MP3's docking station, scrolled past all the songs I usually listened to, and found one I hadn't heard in a while.
Soon Florence and the Machine was thumping out a catchy beat. Even the lyrics about shaking off regret called to me.
It seemed I'd felt guilty and full of regret for so long for so many things...for breaking the rules and causing Nanna's death, for what I was and how I endangered Tristan's life with our every kiss, for the secrets I was forced to keep, even for my birth and all that it had cost my parents.
What was that saying about hindsight being 20/20? It was so easy to judge myself looking back at those decisions now. And yet, at the time of each choice, I had thought I was making the right one.
Tell me you don't think about us every day and regret breaking up with me.
I had told Tristan the truth last night. I did wish we could still be together. But I didn't regret doing what was needed to protect him. And I never would.
It was the one path I'd taken so far that had left me completely regret free.
And that was why, when I woke up this morning, I hadn't cried. Seeing him, talking to him, being held and kissed by him last night, had been painful to lose at the dream's end. But I had been able to face the day strong this time because I knew all the way to my core that I was right. He had to become the new Clann leader for the sake of so many people. It was his destiny, and our being together would endanger that. Only he could help teach all the descendants to let go of their fear.
I thought of the Brat Twins and Dylan, trained for years to fear me and all vampires. I used to wonder why they couldn't just let go of that fear.
But maybe, if it was so easy to let go of a negative emotion, then I could have let go of my own guilt and regrets by now.
Maybe it took conscious effort to let it go. And in my case forgiveness, not for others' mistakes, but for my own. I had to find a way to forgive myself for not being perfect, for screwing up even when I tried my hardest not to. For not being able to foresee the future and the consequences of every action I took.
I set the song to loop, then walked over to the vanity, my footsteps instinctively matching the beat. Leaning over, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. The outside seemed so perfect, made flawless by the vamp genes. But the inside was full of flaws.
"I forgive you," I whispered, smiling because it felt a little silly.
I forgive you, I told myself again, silently this time.
The smile went away. This was starting to feel not so easy now.
I tried it again. I forgive you, Savannah Colbert. I forgive you for not being perfect. For being only half a vampire and half a witch and probably a horrible failure at both. And for having to drink human blood once a week.
I hesitated then dived into the toughest part, determined to finish it. Staring into my reflection's eyes, I thought, I forgive you for falling in love with Tristan, and for dating him in spite of the rules. And most of all, I forgive you for causing your grandma's death and for taking away your mother's mother before any of us were ready.
Now the tears came, rushing over onto my cheeks. But this time it was okay, and I didn't curse myself for being weak and crying. Because I forgave myself for that, too.
I'm not perfect. And I don't have to be. I can figure it out as I go, and as long as I do the best I can, it's okay if I still screw up.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. I felt...lighter. Better. Like maybe, just maybe, some of the guilt weighing me down was gone.
I gave in to the urge to sway with the music, letting it wash over and through me.
Then, for the first time in months, I truly danced again.
