Melissa Darnell - Consume

“Bethany, can’t you see he’s just using you to tick me off?” I said.

They stopped kissing and Bethany smiled. “I don’t think so. We started dating while you were gone, and we’ve been dating for months without you here to see it. If all he wanted was to make you jealous, why wouldn’t he wait till you came back before asking me out?” Still smiling, she cupped Dylan’s cheek. “I know my baby loves me. And for the record, if you’re so worried about someone hurting me, maybe you should look in the mirror. Because Dylan has done nothing but treat me like a queen, which is more than I can say about you.”

Dylan slid a hand around her waist and pulled her hard against him for another kiss. “That’s right, baby. But don’t be late for class because of me. See you after Charmers practice?”

Bethany nodded, threw me one last smirk, then walked down the catwalk with an extra swing in her blond ponytail, her thoughts full of confidence now that she believed she had two guys fighting over her.

Savannah glared at her fellow Charmer’s back with one thought. Ugh.

Bethany stepped off the catwalk and headed down the sloping grounds’ cement steps. The second she disappeared into the math hall on the sports and arts building’s ground floor, I got in Dylan’s face. “If you’re leading her on, all the Clann abilities in the world aren’t going to be enough to save you.”

“Oh, yeah? And if I was, what are you going to do about it?”

My hands ached to grab handfuls of his shirt. Instead I clenched them down at my sides. “You really don’t want to find out.”

“Maybe I do,” Dylan murmured. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want, to see what the big bad Tristan can do now that he’s turned. Why don’t you prove how badass you are now, Coleman?”

“There’s no audience around to save you now,” I reminded him. Why was he pushing me so hard?

Savannah was right. Something was off. Dylan was obviously trying to push every button I had.

It smelled like a trap.

I took a step back, and his eyes flared then narrowed. Something bitter, like lemons, waved off him like a cloud. I checked his thoughts.

He was...afraid?

Told you, Savannah thought. His dad’s probably demanding he push us over the edge at school where everyone will see us lose control so either the council or the Clann will come after us. It’s what he tried to do to me earlier this year.

Yeah, but why? The Clann already kicked me out. What’s the point of getting rid of me now? I’m not in his dad’s way anymore.

“What’s the matter?” Dylan said through gritted teeth. “Afraid to take me on now? I never knew you were a coward, Coleman. Did your daddy’s death destroy you?”

Son of a... I breathed slowly, pushing the anger down again. “Shut up, Williams. You’re not getting what you want here. I’m not going to give your dad the ammunition he needs to force the Clann to take us out.”

Dylan’s breathing sped up. He closed the distance between us, and this time it was his turn to grab my shirt and get in my face. “My father has nothing to do with this. This is all about you two freaks being where you don’t belong....” He went on, spit flying in my face. But I didn’t even hear him speaking anymore. It was all cover noise. The real truth was in his thoughts, in the memories of Mr. Williams’s hand raised palm-out in the air, in the sounds of sizzling as spell after spell slammed into Dylan.

“Do it!” Dylan screamed in my face. “You freaking bloodsucker, you know you want to kill me. Just do it already!”

I grabbed his forearms, their bulging veins taunting me, calling to me. I pushed him away from me an inch at a time, watching as Dylan’s eyes rounded and the muscles in his neck corded with the effort to fight me. But the physical difference between us was too much for Dylan to even have a prayer.

“What does he want, Dylan?” I asked. “He told you to tick us off, to push me over the edge. Why? I’m cast out. I can’t be the leader anymore. So what does he want this time? What’s the point of trying to get rid of me? Nothing I do will make my mother look bad now. She’s washed her hands of me.”

He’ll kill me. The thought echoed over and over inside Dylan’s thoughts as his chest heaved. He tucked his chin down, and I recognized that look.

As he ran at me, I whirled to the side and avoided the tackle. Dylan had always sucked at tackling. It was why he’d been so much better in the quarterback position.

Snarling, he turned around and came after me again. This time I grabbed the back of his neck as he missed me again. I pushed him against the metal railing, a bong vibrating down the entire length of the catwalk.

“Tristan,” Savannah said.

I shook my head at her. Still in control.

Out loud I said to Dylan, “You know I can hear every thought inside that peanut-sized brain of yours. Why don’t you just save us both time and tell me the truth?”

“Or what? You’ll torture it out of me? Go on and try!” He whirled around, his fists flying through the air toward my face. I leaned to the left, then the right, neatly avoiding each blow.

“Tristan, the bell’s about to ring,” Savannah muttered.

Time was up. I grabbed him where his left shoulder met his neck, driving him back into the nearest pole. “Don’t make me lose my patience.”

Dylan closed his eyes. “Just do it already.” If you don’t kill me, he will.

“Why would he kill his own son, Dylan?” Savannah asked.

“Get out of my head, you b—” Dylan tried to scream.

Shaking my head, I tapped his left cheek with my open palm. I’d meant to barely slap him, but his pupils dilated and he started to slump. Cursing, I held him upright.

Turn me, Dylan thought as he fought to hold on to consciousness. Just turn me or kill me.

Whoa. Surprise almost made me let go of him. I regained my grip on his shoulder before he fell all the way to the cement. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes rolled as he blinked slowly. “I know she can do it. She pulled it off with you.”

“You don’t mean it,” Savannah muttered. “You can’t really want this.”

But he did. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision enough to stare at her. “You don’t know him. I’m dead either way. At least if I were like you...”

Heat built in my chest, but this time the anger had a whole new target. Mr. Williams. “If your dad’s using magic on you, tell the Clann. They’ll put a stop to it—”

Dylan let his head drop back against the pole. “You don’t get it. They don’t care. Besides, it’d be my word against his. He’s got too many friends on his side. The Clann will never stand against him.”

“My mother would.” The words slipped out of me as quickly as I thought them. Then I realized it was true. For all her faults and fears against vamps, she would never knowingly allow any Clann kid to be abused.

“She’s not as powerful as she thinks,” Dylan whispered. His pupils slowly contracted to their previous size.

What did he mean by that?

At first, I thought he was still trying to tick me off. But his tone was wrong, flat and unemotional now. Like he was just stating a fact.

“She’s the Clann leader,” I said. “Not even your dad would be stupid enough to mess with her.”

He looked me in the eye, uncaring whether he got gaze dazed in the process. “Want to bet?” Before I could react, he looked away again. “Now either kill me or let me go, man.”

Noise as other students drifted out of the cafeteria and headed in our direction.

“Tristan,” Savannah murmured, her tone a warning.

I released Dylan and stepped back, lost in thought. He hesitated for a second then slunk off, shoulders hunched, hands shoved in his front pockets, his head hanging. He looked like a freshly beaten dog.