Covet (Clann)

that worked in the end?”
    Did I ever. My body had ended up going to war with itself last year and I’d nearly died until Nanna’s spell-laced teas flushed out of my system.
    “But what about Nanna’s bloodlust-dampening spell? Doesn’t it affect the fundamental nature of vamps?”
    “In a way, yes. See, the vamp wards work on your brainwaves by putting out a kind of targeted energy field that interferes with certain frequencies of thought. But that’s almost like creating a sonar signal set to a frequency our ears can’t pick up. That’s not affecting anything on a cellular level.
    “The bloodlust, however, isn’t about your mind or emotions—it’s in a vamp’s genetic coding to crave blood. So the bloodlust-dampening spell has to work on that same DNA level. And that is some deep magic. It’s like nothing the Clann normally teaches descendants nowadays. Which is why Nanna had to turn to the old ways from our Irish ancestors to find a way to make the dampening spell. She said there’s a reason the Clann doesn’t use the old ways anymore, because they’re too dangerous. She even hinted that she had to make some sort of personal sacrifice every time for it to work. That’s why she refused to write down the process or teach it to anyone. She was afraid other descendants would be desperate enough to try the spell regardless of the consequences.”
    I stared out at the highway ahead, both my mind and my heart racing. Dr. Faulkner had said Nanna died of heart complications, that her heart had years worth of scar tissue on it. But she’d never told us she was having health problems.
    Could her heart disease have been connected to the bloodlust-dampening spells she’d done for my parents for years, and later on our own home so I could continue to live with her and Mom safely?
    No. No, I was already at fault enough for the Clann imprisoning Nanna in the Circle. My vamp side couldn’t be even more of a cause for her heart failure. She’d died because she’d fought against the Clann too hard that day, and because of the high cholesterol foods she ate, because she never exercised, because her genes had predisposed her to heart disease.
    And yet…it fit, didn’t it? If she were giving up part of her life or her health in some way in order to overcome the vamp’s basic craving for powerful Clann blood, she wouldn’t tell her daughter what Mom’s love for Dad had cost. And she definitely wouldn’t discuss it with her half vamp granddaughter.
    Oh God. Nanna, what did you do to yourself?
    I stared out my open window, biting my knuckles to keep from crying out loud as tears slid down my cheeks. The guilt, ever present in my gut, rose up to claw at my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I couldn’t break down, not here, not now, when Mom was so excited about picking out the RV she’d always wanted. I’d already taken so much from her. I couldn’t ruin this day, too.
    “You okay, hon?” Mom said. “You got awful quiet there all of a sudden.”
    I cleared my throat, grateful the wind had dried the tears on my cheeks almost as soon as they fell, and forced a smile into my voice. “Sure! Just looking forward to seeing which RV you pick out.”
    “So what’s with all the Clann questions today?”
    I shrugged one shoulder. “You know, just…thinking about things.”
    “Missing your Nanna?” Her murmur was low and heavy with sympathy, nearly causing more tears to spill from my eyes.
    I nodded. Closing my eyes, I tried to make my mind go blank. And yet flashes of that day in the Circle still managed to slip through…all those descendants watching Nanna die, watching me fall apart, listening to us as Mr. Coleman offered his condolences.
    There had been something odd in Mr. Coleman’s tone, a strange little catch as he’d almost said Mom’s first name.
    Desperate to change the subject, I blurted out the question, “Did you know Sam Coleman very well?”
    “He was the future leader when I was growing up. Of course I knew who he was.”
    That didn’t really answer my question. Safely dry-eyed now, I risked a glance her way. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard her tanned knuckles had turned white.
    “He mentioned you,” I said. “You know, when Dad and I were at the Circle.”
    She didn’t look at me.
    The seconds ticked by.
    “Mom?”
    She sighed. “I dated Sam Coleman when we were in high school.”
    Whoa, totally not the answer I’d expected. “Was