CHAPTER 12
SAVANNAH
The summer break couldn't come fast enough.
All I wanted to do was hole up in my room and escape the constant bombardment of everyone else's emotions slamming me every time I left home. I'd thought the ability had calmed down. But lately my own emotions had been a nonstop roller-coaster ride, making it harder to control sensing others'. Thankfully, I was about to get several blissful weeks of solitude. As usual, my friends' parents had filled up their summer with family babysitting for Michelle, candy-striping and volunteering at a nursing home for Carrie, and church camp and helping bale hay out on her uncle's farm for Anne. Even the Charmers wouldn't need me for a couple of months. The team would be going off to dance team camp for a week, then the officers would be at leadership camp, then we'd have all of July off and wouldn't meet back up until the team's annual boot camp week and slumber party in August just before school started again.
All I had to get through was the junior summer party that first Saturday after school let out for summer break.
But what should have been a simple lake party turned out to be way tougher than I'd expected. I'd braced myself for the onslaught of emotions that hit me when I entered Bethany's family lake house and dropped off two bottles of Sprite, my contribution to the food table. But then I headed downstairs and out onto the private pier just in time to hear Bethany telling everyone that she was dating Tristan now.
Tristan was already dating again? He'd just gotten out of the hospital! How could you go on dates wearing two casts and covered in staples and stitches?
For a few seconds, I couldn't even move from the doorway, the slapping of the waves of water against the pier doing nothing to soothe me or cover up Bethany's voice as she chattered on about how she was driving him to his physical therapy sessions three times a week and home from school every day in between, and where they'd eaten lunch together, and how bravely he was fighting through the physical therapy to recover as fast as he could for football training season.
If I'd eaten any lunch, I would have lost it all over the pier right then and there.
Tristan was dating Bethany. Not just taking her to a single dance. Actively, continuously dating her.
A few heads turned my way, and someone nudged Bethany's shoulder. She looked up, saw me standing there, blushed, and stopped talking.
Feeling too many eyes on me, I pasted on a smile, waved hello to everyone then went to sit at the edge of the pier with the two girls who had been managers with me this year until they'd re-auditioned and made the team for next year. I pretended to listen to them, though I actually had no clue what they were talking about.
Bethany resumed recounting all her recent dates with Tristan, this time in a whisper. But of course my stupid vamp hearing had no trouble picking up every word.
I'd thought I knew Tristan, but lately I couldn't figure him out. Even before the wreck, Tristan's decision to take Bethany to the dance had confused me. First he'd promised to find a way for us to be together and even asked my dad to turn him. A week later he was taking someone else to the dance. At the dance, I'd thought I heard him telling me to have faith in us, that we'd find a solution. I'd helped his sister save his life. And then, right after he got out of the hospital, he was back to dating someone else again. To make me jealous? As a decoy to make his parents think he was moving on?
Or maybe he really had given up on us and was moving on.
I stayed at the lake party for an hour, which was as long as I could stand to sit around forcing a smile. Then I made up an excuse about my dad being sick and needing to get home to take care of him. It was all I could do not to run to my truck and speed the whole way home.
Parked once more in the driveway, I took long, deep breaths and tried to think it through.
Okay. So he was dating someone else.
You knew this could happen. That it probably would happen, I thought, resting my forehead on the steering wheel as the heated air from the cab finally began to warm my clammy skin. Maybe I'd imagined hearing him at the dance because some instinct had made me realize he was in danger, and it just got all twisted and crazy for a few seconds. Then my abilities sorted themselves out, and I felt his physical pain instead.
If that was true, then he'd never done a spell to tell me to have hope that we'd find a way to be together again. He really had moved on.
There was zero reason for me to feel betrayed. I'd broken up with him, not once but twice. Now that he understood it was truly over, he was dating someone new, trying to find some happiness in life again.
And I would be happy for him. I would. Because it could be so much worse, couldn't it? Would I rather he be dead, or alive and happy with someone else?
When I texted Anne at church camp with the news, her reaction wasn't quite so nice. In fact, it was filled with a whole lot of four-letter words I was pretty darn sure the church camp counselors wouldn't be thrilled to see her typing if she got caught.
She was convinced he should never date again. She wanted him to spend the rest of his life moaning about the love he'd lost with me, and die a miserable and lonely old man.
While her staunch loyalty was appreciated and did make me smile, and maybe a teeny tiny part of me might agree with her, the larger part of me knew we were both being unreasonable.
Thankfully I had two and a half months to make my heart agree with my head before I would be forced to see him again at school.
Then I got a strange call that totally changed my summer plans.
"So how did your final exams and Charmers party go?" Mom asked when she called during the first week of summer.
"Um, okay I think. "
Actually, I was finding out that this choosing to be grateful and happy business was a heck of a lot harder than it seemed in all the self-improvement books Mom had given me while we'd packed up Nanna's house.
Silence filled the phone. Finally Mom said, "Listen, you know that box of books I gave you?"
"Yeah. I'm working my way through them now. I'm about halfway through Love Yourself and Change Your Life. " Not that it was helping any.
She cleared her throat. "Well, you might want to skip to the bottom of the stack. And do it when your dad's not around. "
Okaaay. "Why?"
"There are a few of your grandma's books at the bottom. "
Nanna's books? Nanna used to read all the time. Her favorites were celebrity biographies. She used to say their lives were far crazier than anything she'd ever had to live through, so they made her feel normal by comparison. Of course, none of them had died after being magically kidnapped and held hostage by a bunch of ticked-off descendants in the woods.
More silence from Mom.
"Okay, Mom, what's your point?"
"They're not. . . normal reading. "
I was starting to get a funny feeling here. "You mean, they're like. . . "
"Something we shouldn't discuss by phone. And nothing your dad should ever see. Okay?"
I dug through the box, which was almost as high as my waist. At the bottom I found old leather books filled with hand-drawn sketches and handwriting. Spell books. I gasped.
"Mom! Why on earth would you-"
"She made me promise to give them to you if anything happened to her! She knew I never wanted the ability. So it's only right that they're passed down to you. Not that I'm condoning anything, or even want to know anything about what you do with them. I'm just keeping my promise to her. Oh, and she said to be sure to tell you that she and I made the promise to the Clann, but you never did. "
Her words sent goose bumps racing down my arms. I'd thought the same thing two weeks ago after Tristan's wreck and the "chat" with Dylan at the Sonic.
She sighed. "Now maybe she'll stop showing up in my dreams every night and bugging me about this. "
"Nanna's haunting you?"
"Well, maybe not her actual ghost. I don't know. The
dreams are so real, it feels like I'm awake. Anyways, whatever it is, maybe it'll stop now that I've done the magic queen's bidding. " Her tone was more than a little cranky.
Okay, this was getting beyond creepy.
After ending the conversation with Mom, I decided to put all of Nanna's spell books into a smaller box. Then I considered where to hide them. Under my bed? No, Dad might find them there if he ever got around to refinishing the hardwood flooring in here.
Dad wasn't home today. He'd gone to Tyler to pick up some crystal drops for a chandelier.
Before I could change my mind or lose my courage, I sent him a quick text saying I had to do some Charmers fund-raiser stuff and would be back later this evening.
Then I grabbed Nanna's box of contraband and carried it out to my truck.
As soon as I pulled into the pine-needle-covered driveway of Nanna's former house, so many emotions welled up within me. . . surprise at the lack of a rental sign out front, relief that it looked untouched, homesickness, sadness, and above all the guilt. It was worse than visiting Nanna's grave could ever be. The memories of Nanna weren't in some lifeless cemetery. She was here at the front stoop, watering her potted plants, now dying, that hung from hooks at the sides of the porch roof. She was in the front yard, fighting a futile and endless battle with a rake against the needles that fell constantly from the towering pines that both shaded and threatened the brick house with their leaning trunks and branches. The haunting memory of all I'd once known and called home reached out to me everywhere I turned.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the box of books and carried it around the side of the carport to the backyard. I set it on the metal stool I used to sit on and spin for hours as a little kid beneath the old pecan tree.
The garden was starting to go wild. Nanna used to work daily to keep it under control and tidy.
She should be here, sweating under the East Texas sun while Mom and I begged her to take it easy and come inside. She should be kneeling on that green spongy cushion she used to save her knees while she talked to the plants as if they were her children, making this little section of the world beautiful and useful and helpful to others with its produce of herbs and strawberries and pecans and peaches.
She would have been here still, if not for the Clann.
I ran a hand over the box lid, thinking about its precious contents. Contents created by Nanna's own hands, filled with her thoughts, and maybe those of other Evans before her.
If I tried very hard, I could almost hear Nanna now.
Okay, Savannah. You've had time to think it over, and you know just sitting back isn't working anymore. Those descendants have grown far too big for their britches. Now what are you going to do about it? Because we Evanses do not just sit around all helpless and moping when times get dangerous or hard, do we? Especially not when our loved ones might be in danger.
I eased the box lid up an inch.
I'd lost so much because of the Clann. . . Nanna, Mom, Tristan, my home. And now Dylan might be planning to go after Anne next year. Unless I stopped him.
I would have two and a half months to figure it out. The question was. . . could I do it? I had no one to teach me other than the words written in this single box of books. No one to turn to if I got confused or frustrated or screwed up. Learning how to use power might even be dangerous, for all I knew.
But if I found a way to stand up to Dylan and the Brat Twins and the rest of the Clann and protect the people I cared about, the risk would be worth it.
Maybe my imagination was still running wild, but I almost could have sworn I felt Nanna's arm around my shoulders, reassuring me as I flipped the box lid open and took out the first book.
* * *
It was incredibly slow going. No wonder descendants started training early and practiced for years.
I'd expected to be able to do at least something that first day. But nothing happened, no matter how hard I tried. Maybe it was because I'd started with the first lesson in the book marked for beginners, which was on grounding. I didn't need to siphon off any extra energy. Unlike most descendants apparently, I was already tired all the time. I needed to gain energy, not ground it off.
The first day was a bit of a letdown. But I wasn't ready to give up. So the next day, I told Dad I had Charmers stuff to do every day of the week for a while. I was scared to death that he'd see the truth on my face, but he was too busy flipping through paint samples for the upstairs bathrooms. He simply made me promise to keep my phone with me at all times and to call him if I started to feel weird.
So I ended up spending the summer days at Nanna's. My key still worked on all the doors, and the house stayed empty. The company that had bought it didn't seem too anxious to rent it out anytime soon. They hadn't even put a sign out front to let people know it was available. And yet they'd kept the electricity and water on, so I was able to go inside for a drink from the kitchen faucet or use the bathroom if I needed to. I left the air conditioner off to avoid running up the new owner's electric bills, which might give my presence away. Plus, I enjoyed the heat from the greenhouse effect as it thawed out my muscles each day.
I felt like I was going camping, sneaking out rolls of toilet paper and a comforter to kick back on in the empty dining area for reading. It was the most fun I'd had in months.
And unlike at my new house with its many views of the Tomato Bowl where I'd watched Tristan play football, at Nanna's there were hardly any reminders of him, which was a huge relief.
But after the first month of reading spell books and practicing the exercises they recommended, the fun wore off. I was ready to do magic. Now.
Had I waited too long to try to develop my descendant side's abilities? Mom said doing magic was like using a muscle. . . if you didn't use it, it would atrophy. She'd purposely made hers weaker by refusing to do magic.
Maybe my vampire genes were just too strong?
A door slammed shut outside. Squeaking, I had just enough time to throw the comforter over the stack of books beside me on the dining room floor before Dad showed up in the backyard. He turned and peered at me through the patio glass door.
"Savannah? What on earth are you doing here? I thought you had Charmer things to do. "
I jumped to my feet, opened the patio door and stepped outside. "Oh. Um, I was just. . . you know, hanging out. What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to check on the place to make sure it is still okay. "
"Why?"
"Because you should always keep an eye on your property. "
"You. . . own Nanna's house now?" Had he bought it from the new owners? That would explain why there was no rental sign outside.
"I own the company that purchased it from your mother. I knew the day would come when either you or your mother would grow homesick and want to revisit the house. It was also your mother's childhood home, you know. "
Yeah, I knew that. "But you paid too much for it. If you'd just told us you wanted to buy it, we could have stopped the whole bidding war and let you have it way cheaper. "
"I own both the companies that bid on it. And your mother never would have knowingly permitted me to purchase her childhood home. "
He had to be kidding. "Why would you jack up the price like that?"
"Your mother told me many times how much she wanted to see the world in an RV, to have complete freedom to travel as much as she wanted. And of course I wanted to ensure that you would have adequate funds for any sort of college education that you might choose. But your mother's pride would not allow me to directly fund either of these goals. "
"So you purposefully paid way too much for the house. "
"Yes. "
"And lied to Mom about where the money was really coming from. "
"Actually, she never asked who owned either of the companies that bid on the house. So technically I never had to lie to her about my involvement. "
Holy crap, he was
devious. I couldn't tell if his actions were romantic or just really sneaky.
"You should be aware that the house has been set up to become yours when you turn eighteen," he added. "You may then do anything you choose with it. . . sell it, rent it out as an investment property, or even use it as your own home if you so choose. Until then it will remain empty and available for your use as needed. "
Wow. I didn't know what to say to that. "Um, thanks. "
"You are more than welcome. "
"So, if I wanted to come here and hang out sometimes, it would be okay?"
He glanced past me at the comforter on the linoleum floor. "I cannot see the sleeping accommodations as being all that comfortable since there are no furnishings left. I would prefer you come home in the evenings to sleep. And it would also be safer if you only come here alone. "
Meaning no secretly meeting Tristan here or throwing wild, unsupervised parties with my friends. "Sure. " Like I would do any of that anyways.
I only wanted to come here to learn magic.
"Well, everything looks fine, so I had better get back to the renovation efforts. I will see you for dinner? Say eight o'clock?"
Raging guilt made me press my lips together and nod, afraid if I opened my mouth I might blurt out what I was really doing here.
Then he walked back around the house to his car and left, and I could breathe again.
I had to do this, I reminded myself. Dylan and the Brat Twins and the whole Clann's hatred toward me and anyone I called a friend had forced me to do whatever I could to protect my friends and myself. Even Nanna's ghost, if it was hanging around Mom, seemed to want me to learn how to do magic.
If I used magic only for protection, how could the Clann or the vamp council complain about that?
Sighing, I grabbed the beginner spell book and went outside to sit in the cool dirt under the old tree at the center of the backyard. "Okay, Nanna. You wanted me to learn how to do this. How about a little help here?"
There had to be something in this book that I was missing. Tristan had told me once that descendants began training as soon as puberty hit, so I was definitely old enough. If a twelve-year-old could do basic magic, surely I could figure it out, too.
I flipped back to the very first lesson on grounding. I didn't need the effects from grounding, but it might be necessary to do every single lesson in order or something. Skipping ahead certainly hadn't worked so far.
Following the first lesson's instructions, I closed my eyes, pressed my palms flat against the grass, and tried to imagine pushing my energy out through my hands.
My palms tickled a little. Because the magic was finally starting to work, or because of the grass against my skin?
I tried again, determined not to leave this yard until I figured it out.
Sharp tingling spread across my palms, spreading to my fingers and making me gasp.
The grass was now darker in the exact shape of two handprints right where my hands had rested.
"It's working!" I squealed, then clapped a hand over my mouth. Nobody was outside in the only neighboring yard, but if I made too much noise and anyone was home, they might come out to investigate.
Okay, settle down, Sav, I told myself. You've got the grounding down. Now let's do the next step.
A flip of the spell book's page revealed the next lesson was to draw energy from the ground. So I just needed to reverse the process, right?
Closing my eyes, I pressed my hands to the ground again and tried to visualize the earth's energy entering my hands.
Nothing. No tingling, no warmth.
I reread the lesson's directions but didn't see anything that I'd missed. Grumbling, my back and head aching probably from sitting hunched over on the ground so long, I lay back on the sun-baked grass and tried again.
Come on, I thought, pressing my hands against the earth. Give me some energy already!
My hands grew warmer and tingled this time, and I sighed with relief. Finally, it was working. But when I tried to sit up, I couldn't move. It was like someone had parked a car on top of me.
Oh crap. What had I done?
I must have accidentally grounded off more energy instead of drawing it into me.
I opened my eyes in panic, opened my mouth to yell for help. But all that came out was a tiny squeak. And my phone was inside the house beyond my reach.
Okay, relax, Sav. You can do this. You figured out how to ground energy. Maybe too well. Now just chill out and do the opposite!
Less warmth in my hands this time, and my thoughts grew fuzzy.
The backyard seemed to grow dark. Was it time for the sun to set already?
I should feel cold, too, but I didn't. I didn't feel much of anything other than the need to sleep. Except a voice in the back of my mind said sleeping was a very bad idea. I should call someone.
I tried to roll toward the patio door. But I couldn't move any part of my body. Even breathing felt like an effort.
The yard was so quiet. I could hear the wind as it wove through the backyard, making the plants rustle and whisper.
If I could just find a way to tap into those plants' energy. . .
I should start watering everything. Nanna would have wanted that.
That was my last thought as even the tree branches overhead faded from view.
And suddenly I was free. I was floating above my body in the garden, held by only the thinnest of silver cords at my navel.
"Savannah, what on earth are you doing?" Nanna demanded as she walked through the garden toward me, her feet not quite touching the ground.
"Nanna! How-"
"Child, you're in the in-between world. Which means you've gone and done something pretty dumb. They sent me to come and send you back where you belong. "
When I frowned in confusion, she added, "You're dying, dear. "
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