Covet (The Clann #2)

Covet (The Clann #2) Page 35

TRISTAN

It had been the week from hell. Mom had self-medicated through the weekend, but on Monday she came back to life with a vengeance. Every time I walked into the kitchen past Dad's open office door, there she was in Dad's chair behind his desk on his phone with the descendants, destroying all of Dad's and Grandpa's hard work on the peace treaty.

Not that she saw it that way.

"Listen, Beth, you've got it all wrong," she snapped, her voice carrying down the hall to where I was digging through the fridge for a snack. "The vamps absolutely can not be trusted, and Tristan knows it better than anyone else. He's anything but a vamp lover! He made the mistake of falling for that little vamp's innocent façade, only to be tricked into being kidnapped by her and her father then drugged and carted off to the vamp council like some kind of trophy, where they tortured him and tried to get him to spill everything he knew about us. But Tristan is a Coleman, and four generations of Colemans haven't led our people for nothing. He was strong, just like his father. He withstood everything they put him through, and then some. My son has been to war, he's been in the trenches as deep behind enemy lines as you can get, and he survived. If that alone doesn't make him worthy to be our next leader, I don't know what does!"

A long pause before she replied, "So I can count on your family's vote for Tristan this Saturday? Excellent! I look forward to seeing you and John then."

I walked down the hallway, coming to a stop in the office doorway as she hung up the phone and made a note in the Clann address book.

She glanced up with a tight smile. "Got another family's vote for you. Honestly, son, I think we just might have this in the bag."

Yeah, but at what cost? "You know, the peace treaty was really important to Dad. It took both Grandpa and Dad's entire lives to get it instated and keep it going."

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes, well, your grandpa was delusional, and your father led a sheltered life. Sam had no clue what the vamps are really like, nor did he want to see the truth. I tried to tell him. Now look what his naive optimism has gotten him. But don't you worry, son. I will see to it that his murder is avenged. Starting with securing your leadership. Then we'll turn our sights toward making every last vamp pay."

I opened my mouth to tell her I had no intention of ever becoming a vamp hater like her. But then I shut my mouth and walked away. What would be the point of arguing with her now? She had just lost the love of her life. There would be no reasoning with her for a while. And who knows? Maybe if I had seen what she'd seen, lost as many loved ones as she had to vampires, maybe I would be just as filled with rage.

I only hoped I could undo whatever damage she might cause this week. If I got the majority vote.

I didn't see much of Emily all week. Mostly she kept to her room. The few times I did see her emerge from her room, we didn't have anything to say to each other. I wanted to forgive her for her "memory loss," but I just couldn't. Not yet. Every day that she couldn't remember or wouldn't tell the truth was one more day the trail of clues was allowed to fade away.

The funeral Saturday morning was a total circus. I'd expected a pretty big turnout as hundreds of descendants from all over the world flew in to honor the loss of our leader. What I hadn't prepared for was all the non-Clann people and media who showed up. People who had worked at Dad's manufacturing plant, local politicians, and local media mixed with recognizable celebrities in the business world and national media.

I'd had no idea Dad was so well known and loved outside the Clann. Realizing it made me miss him all the more.

I had to read a speech, which had taken me days to try and get just right. Afterward, I couldn't even remember giving it. All I remembered was the sight of that coffin with Dad closed up inside it, hidden from view so no one would see the supposed fang marks high on his neck.

After the funeral, Mom held a Clann-only gathering at the country club, where descendant after descendant got up to talk about Dad. I didn't remember much of it, either. I was too busy worrying.

Because now that it was real, now that I had seen my father buried in the ground, the upcoming vote was also all too real. And so were the possible consequences.

Savannah was right. I had to become the next Clann leader, for her sake, for her dad's, for the safety of all these men, women and children gathered today in the banquet room.

If the Williams family took control of the Clann, no one here would be safe. Once they started another war, it wouldn't be just a single, organized battle. It would be ongoing and everywhere...in public places and private, spilling over into Clann homes and businesses. They would make sure it was as dirty a war as possible, and no one would be spared, not even the kids. And it wouldn't just affect the Clann and the vamps. Ordinary humans would also get caught in the crossfire.

I'd done my research this week, talking with Dr. Faulkner by phone so I could get caught up on the details of the Clann's history with the vamps. The last war had been fought on and off for hundreds of years, with historians mistaking it for all kinds of world wars and plagues and mob-related violence. Thousands had died on both sides, including ordinary people recruited to help each side.

We couldn't let another war begin. I couldn't, not if I could do something to stop it. Savannah was right. There was no way to run from my responsibilities. If I was selfish, if I turned away from the Clann, she and I would never be safe again anywhere on this planet.

I had to become the next Clann leader.

Maybe then, with enough time and effort and reasoning, I could bring the Clann around. I could help them see that we could coexist with the vamps, not just under an uneasy peace treaty, but with a better understanding for both sides. We didn't have to live our lives in fear like this.

Dad was right. Someone was behind the Clann killings, and there was no way it was just some rogue vamp. It couldn't be a coincidence that both the Clann's leader and extended family had been targeted. The obvious reason for the connection was that there was some kind of political agenda behind it.

Someone wanted another war. But who? Who had the most to gain from such a war?

Figuring that out would be my first and most important goal as Clann leader.

Savannah's dad had put me in touch with Caravass, the council leader for the vamps. I'd spoken to him several times this week, and though neither of us had any updates to share, we'd both agreed that someone must be trying to play off our groups' fears and mistrust. I couldn't be sure yet that Caravass was trustworthy, other than my instincts, which Dad had always told me to pay attention to. Only time would really tell. But for now, my gut said he was a necessary ally, and I was hopeful we could work together to put an end to the killings.

I just had to secure the majority vote tonight. Which was why, when I spotted Mom mingling throughout the banquet like the First Lady working for last-minute votes during a presidential election, I didn't try to stop her. Her methods might be crappy and cause me more work to have to undo later, but if they got me in as Clann leader, so be it.

I was starting to understand why politicians all had a certain underlying ruthlessness to them. In order to do good, it seemed like a whole lot of compromise and strategic maneuvering was required first.

I just hoped, a year from now, I could still stand to look at myself in the mirror.

By the time the banquet broke up and everyone prepared to head out to the Circle for the vote, I was strung tight and having a hard time not showing it.

Unlike Mr. Williams. He stood on the opposite side of the clearing's stone chair that had been my family's all the way back to my great-great-grandpa, and he should have looked nervous. Instead, Mr. Williams was nothing but cool, calm and confident. Where I felt like a kid playing pretend in my suit, he looked ready to become the next U.S. president, never mind leader of the Clann.

For the first time in my life, I hated being young. If I were a couple of years older, he wouldn't look so smug.

The stone chalice was passed throughout the crowd. You had to be eighteen to vote, which was probably a major point in my favor since it meant Dylan and the Brat Twins couldn't vote yet. The teenaged descendants had been allowed to attend, though, while younger descendants had been excluded from the gathering in order to keep the event as orderly and formal as possible. The vote itself was a magic-based process. Mom had explained it to me this afternoon. Descendants had to use power to make their mark on the ballots, ensuring that each vote's maker could be traced, thus preventing any ballot stuffing.

Finally Dr. Faulkner brought the chalice to rest on the seat of the stone chair.

He tapped the chalice once, twice, three times, and a fourth, each time at a different compass point on its rim. Then he turned to face the gathering.

"And now for the results of the vote!"

SAVANNAH

It had been the single longest week of my life, made complete by the longest day today. I hadn't been able to sit still. Dancing for hours hadn't helped, though it had taken the edge off and kept me loose and warm. As a last resort, I'd even tried grounding in the woods behind my house. But all that did was leave me panicky that I wouldn't have enough energy in case the vote went wrong and Mr. Williams's first act as the Clann's new leader would be to come after Dad and me. So I ended up drawing more energy instead until I felt like a cup ready to overflow.

Listening in on Dad hadn't helped, either. He'd been on the phone speaking in French to someone all day. The problem was, he was also thinking in French. Since I'd taken Spanish instead of French in school, I was beyond lost as to what he was up to.

At six o'clock, my phone rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Was this it? Had they voted already, and Tristan was calling to let me know?

"Hey, how you holding up?" Anne asked.

The breath whooshed from my lungs. "Um, fine, I guess. Kind of nervous. Sick to my stomach. Can't sit still." I'd told Anne about the Clann's vote earlier in the week.

"Want to come outside and kill time for a while? I'm in your driveway."

"Why didn't you just knock on the door?"

"Because your dad's home and he's got that whole mind-reading thing going on, too, and I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to know about him and the Clann and the Keepers and the vote, and yet it's all I can think about today!"

Oh. Right. "Okay, I'm coming out."

I ran downstairs and told Dad I would be in the front yard talking with Anne. He waved and nodded, then went right back to arguing with someone in French.

Ron was sitting on the far side of Anne on the tailgate of her truck when I joined them.

"Having car problems?" I joked.

"Nah," he said with a grin. "We just needed the truck to go hog hunting earlier."

"Without me?" I gave Anne a pointed look. Did this mean she'd finally taken my advice and called him to apologize, and I had been right?

Anne cleared her throat, her cheeks turning pink beneath their tan. "I needed a safety buddy, and I didn't think you'd be up for it. But don't think you're getting out of that hunt you promised me. You owe me one."

Oh. So he hadn't taken her back immediately.

I read her thoughts. Yes, I finally got the nerve to call him and apologize. But he insisted we meet and talk about it some more face-to-face over lunch the next day. So technically he didn't accept my apology until a day later.

"Ah," I said. "Then I guess I do owe you a hunt."

She grinned. "That you do." And by the way, thanks for helping me yank my head out of my butt.

I returned her grin. "Anytime." I sighed, happy that at least someone around here was finally getting their happy ending. Then I winced as a pungent stench wafted up my nose. "I take it you guys had a successful hunt?" I pressed the back of my hand to my nose to try and block some of the smell.

"Oh, sorry about that," Ron said. "Yeah, we caught one and delivered it to the butcher so they can process it. They donate their services and the meat to local food banks. The thing is, Anne's not supposed to go hunting again without telling her parents first, and it was kind of unplanned today. So we were hoping..."

"That maybe you'd loan me the use of a garden hose and some water?" Anne finished with her best hopeful smile.

"Ugh. Fine. Have it. I'll get some bleach." I headed around the side of the house, entering through the back kitchen door where I thought I remembered seeing a bottle of bleach under the sink.

Dad blurred into the room, his face phone free for the first time in days. "Savannah. We have a problem."

Great. Now what?

I sighed. "What's up?" Had he read Anne's mind or something?

"I just got off the phone with the council. They are coming here."

"Here, as in to Jacksonville and the Clann's headquarters?" It came out as a squeak.

He nodded. "They have already landed outside of Rusk and are on their way by car."

"What for?" Oh crap. Oh crappity crap! Had they figured out somehow that I could do magic now?

"They heard about the Clann leadership vote. However, they have been led to believe that the vote is a cover. They think the Clann is actually meeting in order to strategize the beginning of the next war."

My jaw dropped. "You've got to be kidding."

"Unfortunately I am not. I have been attempting all day to convince them that their intel is wrong, but none of the council members are listening to me."

So now the council was headed out to meet the Clann in the Circle. And Tristan was there....