When I woke up the next morning, Dad said Gowin had stayed overnight to be sure I reacted well to the donor blood. He'd left early this morning, but he would be back; Gowin had rented an apartment in Tyler so he could visit anytime the council felt it was a good idea.

A council member was moving to East Texas. The Clann would be so thrilled.

I had a hunch exactly who they would blame when they found out, too.

I didn't bother to mention how much I did not enjoy the blood memories. I was pretty sure the look on my face said enough. Dad promised I should need to feed only once a week, which I would be allowed to do on weekends so I could recover from the blood memories by the start of each week.

Being forced to relive a confused jumble of moments from someone else's life was terrible. While it lasted, I was completely out of control of my own mind. But at least the donor blood meant I didn't have to go around biting people. Or deal with the bloodlust while at the Charmers boot camp, which lasted from seven till eleven every day for the last week of summer. The team used this week to bond with the Indies, or sophomores, who were just joining the team. The Braves, or juniors, seemed to enjoy no longer being the newbies on the team. But the Chiefs, or seniors, and the new captain and her lieutenant officers, definitely were having the most fun. They spent the week endlessly whipping the newbies into shape with laps around the track and push-ups and sit-ups, mixed in with actual dance practice as everyone learned the first new routines to be performed at the upcoming fall pep rallies and football games.

When I wasn't working the sound system on the practice field for the team, I was getting to know the new sophomore managers while we worked together to clean and organize Mrs. Daniels's office. It was hard not to smile when they whined about how hot it was on the third floor without any air conditioning, which wouldn't be turned on again until next week when school began. To me the heat felt good, thawing me out so my constantly tense muscles could finally relax.

On Wednesday several boxes of new poms came in, so we spent the entire morning crinkling each strand of every pom by hand so the metallic strands would be fuller and catch and throw more light when the Charmers danced with them. I tried not to think about how it would feel to dance with a pair of poms at a football game. That was a dead dream better left forgotten.

Other dreams were harder to forget while I took inventory of all the stage props and backdrops. More than once I caught myself lost in the memories, fingertips pressed to my lips as they tingled with the haunting sensation of the way he'd kissed me over and over here in the dark that last night before Dylan caught us together and it all started to fall apart.

It didn't help to know that the varsity Indians had their football practices at the same time as the Charmers in an attempt to avoid the rising heat of the day. Which meant Tristan was somewhere on this same campus every morning, probably getting all hot and sweaty in the back practice field with the other varsity players in a see-through practice jersey

Unfortunately Charmers boot camp in the mornings and magic practice in the afternoons didn't fill up my evenings. So I started doing tai chi in my room at night in an attempt to battle the rising tension that kept my muscles kinked in knots.

But it was increasingly hard to find any peace from my emotions. Maybe I wasn't trying hard enough, or focusing properly. Or maybe it was the fact that the new school year would begin in a few days, and I felt anything but ready for it.

The Friday night before the last weekend of the summer, Dad found me in my room trying as hard as I could to think of nothing beyond the next tai chi move.

At his knock, I called out, "Come in."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then hesitated and stood there with a frown, watching me practice.

"What? Am I doing it wrong?" I asked, waving my hands like clouds passing across the sky as he'd taught me.

"No. But..." He studied me for a few more seconds. "You look miserable doing it."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered.

"It's supposed to bring you peace and tranquility."

"I know."

"Is it?"

I sighed and moved on to the next step. "I'm probably just not focusing enough."

"Maybe you should dance instead."

I froze, the anger a quick rush of heat blooming in my stomach. "Excuse me? I thought dancing was off-limits."

"In public. The council said nothing about dancing in the privacy of one's own home."

I took a long, slow breath for patience. "Well, they didn't say I could, either. So maybe I'd better just stick with the tai chi instead." At least until they banned that, too.

I restarted the routine from the beginning.

"But dancing made you happy, correct?"

I shrugged one shoulder. "It causes problems. Why push the issue?"

Besides, I didn't feel like dancing. I hadn't ever since Nanna died. Every time I tried to dance, I remembered how proud Nanna had looked, sitting in the audience of the local Lon Morris College's theater with my mom and dad at my first and only dance recital. And in the too short, too few weeks afterwards, how Nanna used to sit in a lawn chair in the backyard and loudly cheer me on while I practiced for my doomed Charmers team audition.

Tai chi was never going to help me relax as long as he was standing there critiquing me. I stopped and propped my hands on my hips. "Do you need something?"

Frowning, he strolled over to my closet and opened the door. "School starts on Monday."

"I know." Believe me, I know.

He lifted a sleeve on one of the button-up shirts I'd had for years. I had a quick flash memory of Tristan's hands gliding down my arms within those sleeves.... "I would have assumed that you would want or need to go shopping to prepare for the new school year."

"I will. I figured I'd go late tomorrow night to Walmart when the store's mostly empty and buy my school supplies then."

"What about your wardrobe?"

"What about it? I haven't grown any, so everything still fits."

"But this is not what the magazines show the teens to be wearing now."

"No one cares what I wear, Dad."

He turned to face me, arms crossed. "That is not a good strategy for blending in."

"Uh, actually it's a great one. No one's going to notice the wallflower with three-year-old clothing. Trust me, I'll be practically invisible."

"No, you will not. You will... How would your mother put it? Stick out like a..."

"A sore thumb?" I finished for him.

"Precisely."

I let my stare show him how much I agreed with him.

"Perhaps we should discuss this with your mother. Skype is showing her as online now if you would like to webcam with her."

Ha! Mom would totally side with me on this. She was all about the waste-not want-not mentality. "Fine." I sat down at my desk, booted up my laptop and logged into the program. Sure enough, as soon as I appeared online, Mom sent me a video chat request. Within seconds we were able to see each other onscreen.

She gasped.

"What's wrong?" I asked, half rising from my chair out of instinct, as if I could actually do anything to help her from here.

She gaped at me, leaning toward the screen and adjusting her laptop, judging by how the angle of my view of her changed.

"Is it weird lighting or...?" she asked.

"No, it is not," Dad said, standing behind me. "Which brings us to why I suggested Savannah webcam with you this evening."

"I see what you mean," Mom muttered.

"What?" I asked, gripping the edge of my desk. "What's wrong?"

Mom made that face she always made when she was trying to choose her words carefully. "Well, dear, it's been a while since I've seen you, and you look so...different."

"Like a vampire," Dad said, his tone flat.

"Really?" I touched my cheeks with both hands. It felt the same to me. Of course, I hadn't taken a good look at my reflection in weeks, not since Anne's birthday. There hadn't been any reason to as I stayed at home all the time now and saw only Dad and Gowin.

"Perhaps it is due to the feedings," Dad murmured.

I glared at him over my shoulder. "I told you it was a bad idea!"

"Hon, it was necessary," Mom said. "None of us could stop the change. And it's not like you're ugly now. In fact, you've become quite...beautiful."

So why did her tone sound so weirded out about it?

"I have been trying to convince our daughter that she needs a new wardrobe this year," Dad said. "One that is fashionable enough to be a distraction."

"He means he wants to waste money on stupidly expensive clothes," I corrected. "All my old stuff still fits just fine. There's no point in spending a lot of money on a whole new wardrobe. Right, Mom?"

She cringed. "Well, sweetie, your dad might actually have a point this time."

Huh? Okay, maybe I was going deaf instead of developing better hearing. My penny-pinching, world's-most-frugal mother did not just say she agreed with her ex-husband about blowing a wad of cash on unnecessary clothing.

"Think of it as camouflage," Dad said. "Like birds. If you return to school wearing the same clothing you have always worn, everyone will have no choice but to notice every single change in your physical appearance. But if you show up wearing not only new clothing, but highly fashionable attire that most of the other teens will not have, their attention will be drawn to that instead. Then any physical changes they do notice will simply be written off as part of your makeover."

"This is so dumb," I muttered, flopping back in my chair and crossing my arms. I couldn't believe Mom had sided with Dad this time. They never agreed on anything!

"Oh come on, Sav," Mom teased. "Shopping is supposed to be fun, not torture."

I looked away as I confessed the truth. "But...I don't read magazines. I don't even know what's in fashion now." Heck, I didn't even know which fashion magazines were in fashion right now!

"Ah, but I do," Dad said with a smile.

I stared up at him with one eyebrow raised. He had to be kidding.

"What?" he asked. "It is important that vampires do not draw attention by being old-fashioned."

This coming from the guy who couldn't speak a contraction to save his life.

I squinted, studying him, wondering if maybe I could get away with a spell to change his mind. On second thought, knowing my luck, not only would Dad figure out I'd used magic on him, but Gowin would too and then the whole vamp council would have a major freak-out session over it.

"Hon, trust your father on this," Mom said. "When we used to go out together, the waitresses never noticed how pale he was, or how little he ate. All they saw were his nice suits and shoes."

"Thanks," Dad said somewhat dryly.

"He's actually pretty good with the whole fashion thing," Mom added with just a hint of reluctance. "In fact, I even used to let him pick out a few things for me sometimes."

"Only when I grew tired of your garage-sale consignment-shop bohemian look," Dad replied.

Sensing yet another of their infamous arguments brewing, I sat up. "Okay. Fine, buy whatever you think is necessary, Dad. Happy?"

"Oh, and let's do a fashion show Sunday night so I can see your new look!" Mom said, practically clapping her hands in anticipation.

"Sure Mom. Talk to you later." And thanks for all the help with Dad.

She blew me a kiss and we ended the webcam connection.

I turned my chair to face Dad, expecting him to still be standing behind me all smug about winning the debate. Instead he was already in my closet pawing through the clothes.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing?" Maybe it was time to set some boundaries here.

"Seeing if anything can be salvaged."

"Uh, just because I agreed to new school clothes doesn't mean we're throwing out all my old stuff. I still get to wear what I want around the house, right?"

He sighed heavily. "Fine. Be ready early tomorrow morning. I researched area stores and the Galleria in Houston appears to have the brands you need."

Me, at a mall with my dad? "No, thanks."

He stared at me with a frown. "You just agreed-"

"To wear whatever you pick out. But you don't need me there to weigh in on any of it. Just take down my sizes from the perfectly good clothing I already have and use that." Whatever he chose I was bound to look ridiculous in. Everyone knew I was clueless about fashion. Fashionably hopeless was my look now. If he thought I'd actually help him turn me into a fashionista wannabe, which everyone was going to see right through within seconds and laugh in my face about, he was nuts.

They'd probably even blame my new wardrobe on some pathetic attempt to win Tristan back. I could practically hear the Brat Twins teasing me about it now.

"Fine," he snapped. "Forgive me for assuming you might want some input in this process."

"Well, I don't." I swiveled my chair away from him and back toward my desk.

"Fine!"

"Great!" I snapped back. "And don't forget, I have the Charmers slumber party tomorrow night." I threw that last part over my shoulder at his retreating back as he headed out the bedroom door.

He reappeared in the doorway. "I do not think you should attend that."

"They have it every year. I have to be there. It's one of the best parts of being on the team!"

He glared at me. "You will be locked within a room with over forty humans. What if the bloodlust should join the party, as your mother would say?"

I scowled. "I'll be fine. We're just going to play a bunch of silly games and listen to music." And exchange our old team bracelet charms for new ones while we learned the team motto and theme song for the upcoming year. And this time I'd be doing it all as the official head manager.

"I'll have my phone with me at all times," I promised, trying not to let a whine creep into my voice.

He stared at me.

"Please, Dad?" I said, giving up and letting the whine out.

Maybe I should use that mind-changing spell on him after all.

"In return, you swear you will wear whatever I choose for your school wardrobe this year? Including accessories and shoes?"

Okay, now this was starting to feel like a trap. "Well, within reason. I mean, it has to meet school dress code requirements or else they'll keep sending me home to change all the time."

He looked down his nose at me. "I have already consulted the school website for these dress codes and will keep them in mind while choosing your new attire."

"Fine. I'll wear whatever you pick out." Please, do not let it be too revolting or make people laugh at me too loudly.

"Fine. You may go to the Charmers slumber party tomorrow night. As long as you feed tonight."

I wanted to argue about that last part. But the look in his eyes said not to bother. And on second thought, maybe it was a good idea. Better safe than sorry, and if I fed now, hopefully the blood memories would have stopped by the time the party started at six tomorrow night.

"Okay," I grumbled.

He walked away with a satisfied air, and I got the distinct impression that I'd just been tricked somehow.

Whatever. At least I'd get to go to the party.