Consume. Melissa Darnell

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      “Okay, so she might hate my guts,” I said. “But if she’d wanted to take me out, she could have done it last night in the Circle.”

      “With such a mixed audience of both Clann and vampire councilmen present?”

      Hmm. I saw his point. A chill spread over my skin. “Still, she’s Tristan’s mom. She knows he needs me to help train him now.”

      “Unless she decides you and Tristan are too great a threat to the Clann after all. Especially now that you have proven your blood can turn descendants where no other vampire’s has been able to before.”

      My stomach twisted. I took a slow and careful breath. “She wouldn’t do that. Not to her own son. She adores Tristan, no matter what I’ve turned him into.”

      “For all our sakes, let us hope you are right. Let us also hope that she gains control over the Clann quickly before any descendants can decide to take matters into their own hands and seek retribution against you for turning their leader.”

      “Tristan was only their leader for about two minutes.”

      “Even still, he was their leader. And now he is cast out and all but dead to them. You turned him into that which they fear above all else in this world. It is not likely that they will forget that fact soon.”

      I stared at the seemingly endless miles of surrounding woods now turning to shades of gray in the fast growing dusk. “Even if the Clann comes after us, they can’t find us out here. We didn’t leave a trail, and no one knows about this place. Right?”

      “They do not have to know about it. If the Clann is determined to find us, the odds are in their favor that they will. Do not forget, they have both spells and the Keepers to aid them.”

      Oh, lord. I had forgotten about the Clann’s alliance with the Keepers, a group of families also originally from Ireland who, in the old country, had agreed to have a shapeshifter spell placed upon them that spanned generations. Once they shifted into the form of giant black panthers, the Keepers could read both Clann and vampire minds, including mine and probably still Tristan’s, too. My best friend’s boyfriend, Ron Abernathy, was one of a long line of Keepers.

      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 СКАЧАТЬ