Covet (Clann)

tonight, she’d figured it out. All night, she’d been quiet and unsmiling, completely unlike herself.
    I had to find a way to fix this. “Maybe we should go somewhere and talk.”
    Her eyes rounded, and she shook her head fast. “No. Let’s just stay here and keep dancing. Everything’s fine—”
    “No, it’s not.” I stopped dancing, my hands resting on her shoulders left bare by her pale blue Cinderella gown. “I think you might have gotten the wrong idea about you and me. It’s my fault. I haven’t been thinking right for months. I thought you understood we were just friends. But I should have explained things to you that first day you showed up at the hospital.” I took a deep breath. “I can’t be the guy you need, Bethany. I’m still trying to get over someone else.”
    “You mean Savannah.”
    I hesitated then nodded, hating how the truth was hurting her, wishing I’d told her the truth from the start and avoided all of this.
    A tear slipped down her cheek. She reached up and wiped it away with a shaky hand. “You still love her. That’s why you’re always staring at her. I heard you were at her house last night, that you and your sister stopped someone from throwing a brick through her window. That’s where you ran off to, isn’t it?”
    “Yeah, but I didn’t go over there to see her.” At least not at first.
    “Did I do something wrong? Did I talk too much, or not enough, or—”
    My gut clenched. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
    “But I’m not the right girl. I’m not Savannah.”
    I nodded. God, I’d screwed this up. “I’m sorry—”
    She stepped back, her chin quivering. Looking away, she blinked fast a few times then shook her head. “I’ve got to go.”
    “Bethany—” What could I say to make this right?
    Obviously nothing she wanted to hear. Turning, she gathered up her long skirt and walked away, pushing through the crowd at the edge of the dance floor so she could escape to the foyer and her friends.

CHAPTER 26
    The Monday after the masq ball was a long day thanks to all the ticked-off Charmers who had sided with Bethany and believed I was the worst jerk on the planet. Since they were probably right, I didn’t bother to try and defend myself when they huddled in glaring, whispering groups in the halls and cafeteria. I just kept my head down, sat outside at my old grounding tree during lunch, and waited for the backlash to blow over.
    At the end of the day, I was only too happy to go home. All I wanted was to eat, tackle a little homework and then crash.
    After parking inside my family’s four-car garage, I got out of my truck and crossed the dim space toward the door leading into the kitchen.
    Halfway across the garage, I heard it…the worst kind of wailing I’d ever heard.
    I ran the rest of the way to the steps and threw open the door, sure I would find someone on the floor bleeding to death or something.
    Instead I found Dad standing with one arm around Mom while his free hand furiously dialed numbers on his cell phone. What the…
    He looked up as I opened the kitchen door, relief the barest flicker in his eyes. “Tristan, you’re home. Good. Call your sister for me, will you?”
    He tossed me his phone. I caught it out of reflex.
    “What’s—” I started to ask.
    “They’re dead!” Mom cried out, her bony fingers clutching Dad’s beefy arms like claws. “Cynthia, James, the girls. They were slaughtered like animals by those murderous undead filth. I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all!”
    Dad shushed her, hugging her to him and rubbing a big hand across her back. After a few seconds, he looked over her head at me, his expression intense.
    “The police found Cynthia and James and your cousins dead at their home. It appears they were murdered—”
    “By vampires,” Mom hissed, spit flying from her mouth, her eyes round and rolling wildly. I’d never seen her like this. She looked unhinged. And dangerous.
    Then their words fully registered and I had to grab the doorjamb for support.
    My aunt and uncle and cousins were all dead. Maybe from a vampire attack.
    We saw them once a year, so I wasn’t that close to them. But still, they were family….
    I pictured Katie and Kristie the way I’d seen them the New Year’s Eve before last, all smiles and freckles and bouncy blonde curls and giggles.
    They would have been ten this year.
    “Are you sure it was…”
    Dad nodded. “When your mother couldn’t reach Aunt Cynthia all