Crave (Harlequin Teen)

endanger their peace treaty?
    Were they really that afraid of what I might do?
    As the council returned my stare, I tried to imagine myself in their position. What must it be like, to be in charge of an international world of immortals, each one strong and blood-thirsty…? To know that my eternity would be spent trying to keep such a society secret from the world around us and at peace with the equally powerful Clann…? And then to be faced with such a mixed creature as myself, one that could potentially help or ruin us all…?
    They must have wanted to avoid possible disaster and simply kill me as soon as I was born, if not before my birth. Yet they had agreed to let me live and see how I would turn out. And how had I repaid such a monumental risk on their part? I had threatened to expose them to the human world, secretly dated the future leader of the Clann for months and refused to even give them direct updates about the changes I had gone through.
    Their methods were definitely medieval at times. They never should have kidnapped Tristan. But then again, we shouldn’t have run around breaking the rules for months, either. So maybe Dad wasn’t the only vampire I had misunderstood.
    “We have reached our decision,” Caravass said. “You do seem to have the bloodlust under control. For now. So you are free to go, but under a few conditions.”
    I raised an eyebrow in silent question.
    “You must be taught the vampire rules and ways by your father.”
    “Of course.” I would need all the help I could get.
    “You will return here every six months to undergo testing. We want to stay abreast of your developments as a vampire, as well as monitor your magical power.”
    Now both my eyebrows went up. “Testing?”
    One corner of Caravass’s mouth tightened. “We will not be using a descendant for future tests.”
    I gave a single nod in agreement.
    “And you must stop seeing the witch boy outside of school.” Caravass tilted his head toward the still-uncovered window.
    From the corner of my eye, I snuck a peek at Tristan, his shoulders slumped, his eyes dark and haunted. I looked away again.
    “The only reason he has not destroyed us all is because of the drugs in his system at present,” Caravass warned. “He is a danger to all within our world. You included.”
    Shouldn’t that be the other way around? Weren’t we vampires the danger? “So you still intend to let him live?” A tiny crack spread in the layers of imaginary ice that encased me.
    “Your father has made a wise point. Harming this descendant would destroy the peace between ourselves and the Clann. But you must not be alone with him anymore. We cannot risk your losing control around him and single-handedly destroying the peace treaty.”
    I almost frowned, then stopped. No, I would not think about this. I already knew what needed to be done. “Agreed. But…may I have a few days to handle this in my own way?”
    Silence filled the room as the council discussed telepathically. Then Caravass nodded. “Your father will keep you under close supervision until this is accomplished.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Meeting you has been…insightful.” Caravass nodded at the guard, who opened the door for us again. “I hope to learn much from you and your developments over time.”
    I gave a short nod and followed Dad out of the chamber.
    We waited in the dank hall as the guard entered the interrogation room. After a few minutes, he led Tristan out. Tristan’s wrists were still cuffed behind his back, but he seemed less sluggish now and able to walk fine. I carefully avoided looking at his face.
    Dad put a blindfold over his eyes, checking around the edges to be sure Tristan couldn’t see. He repeated the procedure with me. But then Dad did something surprising. He grabbed my wrist, tugged me over a few feet and placed my hand over Tristan’s. Tristan’s fingers immediately laced and locked with mine.
    Had Dad done this to keep Tristan calm and cooperative?
    Dad walked behind us, using gentle nudges on our shoulders to guide us back out of the tunnels to the street. The entire time, Tristan’s heated grip on my cold hand never loosened.
    The vampire inside me wanted him to let go. His touch created too much warmth, steadily melting the chill within me as Dad shepherded us out. How could I stay safe and numb when his skin was so hot against mine, nearly burning me from the contact?
    At the car, we paused in the darkness while Dad removed