Covet (Clann)

There was the stream, which ran across the mossy circular clearing where we’d danced and talked for hours. But where was the short waterfall that always spilled past the boulders and fed the stream? Maybe that had been an imaginary addition from Tristan?
    Both sides of the stream were filled with descendants, too many of them to count. They gathered like giant crows circled round the harvest, their faces hidden in shadow beneath their blue and black umbrellas. Had my mother come here as a young girl with Nanna for the Clann meetings, maybe carrying her own dark umbrella in case it rained? It would explain why Mom liked to work in the forestry industry…she’d grown up trampling through woods rain or shine for social gatherings.
    On the far bank of the stream, where in our dreams Tristan and I usually sat or lay on a picnic blanket talking, sat a stone chair occupied by Tristan’s dad, the Clann’s leader, Sam Coleman. Behind him hovered Tristan’s mother, Nancy, and Tristan’s sister, Emily.
    Yep, this was definitely the Circle. And we were so in trouble.
    Then I looked up and gasped. Floating several feet above the stream, as if hung by invisible wires, was Nanna.

CHAPTER 2
    TRISTAN
    Savannah’s grandmother, Mrs. Evans, appeared to be awake but immobilized in the air. The Clann must have caught her before she could get dressed; her long cotton nightgown floated around her legs and bare feet in slow motion as if she were a ghost. Savannah took a step toward her, and the descendants began to mutter. Hearing them, Savannah froze, her eyes narrowing and turning moss-green. A sure sign she was beyond ticked off.
    “Mom, Dad, what are you doing?” I shouted to be heard over the wind and across the Circle’s clearing. I had to put a stop to this before somebody got hurt.
    “Tristan!” Mom screamed, darting out from behind Dad’s throne. She took two steps toward me then stopped, her joyous smile flashing into shock, then fear, and finally settling into horror as she stared at Savannah. “No, it can’t be true. Tristan, how could you? I told them you would never—”
    “Son, do you know what she is? What her father is?” Dad’s voice boomed throughout the clearing. “They’re—”
    “I know,” I said. “But obviously I’m fine. There’s no need to do this. Let her grandmother go.”
    Savannah looked up at her trapped grandmother again. Mrs. Evans’s papery face twisted horribly, as if she were silently screaming in pain. Eyes shining with unshed tears, Savannah reached for her grandmother’s feet, but even her toes were out of Savannah’s reach.
    This was insane. What did the Clann think it was doing, dragging an old lady out of her own home and off to the woods in her nightgown? Mrs. Evans would have every right to hex us all the minute they freed her.
    “Let her down,” I yelled, losing control over my temper.
    The wind died, but the smell of ozone sharpened the air with the promise of more rain.
    In the resulting silence, Dad said, “It’s not that simple.”
    What?
    Rocking back on my heels, I searched his face for some clue as to what he could possibly be thinking. I could tell from his overly formal tone that he was still in Clann leader mode, probably too aware of the audience of descendants surrounding us. But he wasn’t thinking right. This wasn’t about Clann and vamp politics. No matter what, no matter how powerful the Clann was, we didn’t do this .
    “It is simple,” I said. “This woman had nothing to do with my disappearance.”
    “We know where you were,” Dad said. “We know the vampires—that…girl’s father—kidnapped you. Now tell us the truth, son. Are you okay? Did they hurt you? What questions did they ask you? Are they trying to figure out our weaknesses?”
    Savannah took a step forward. “They’re not trying to start another war, Mr. Coleman. They just brought him in to test me, to see if I’m a danger to anyone. And my dad wasn’t the one who took him. No one in my family had anything to do with Tristan’s involvement.”
    “They didn’t kidnap me. I went voluntarily to help Savannah,” I said, desperate enough to lie at this point.
    “Tristan, don’t,” Savannah hissed.
    I didn’t look at her, my gaze locked on the only person here who had the power to decide. My father.
    Dad’s face darkened. “So Dylan was right. You are dating her.”
    I didn’t hesitate to answer him. “Yes. I love her.”
    The descendants gasped. Savannah