Crave by Melissa Darnell Read Free Book Online

Nanna’s house since the Christmas when I was seven, and he and Mom got into an argument that ended with her throwing plates and ice-cube trays at him.
    Nanna leaned forward to touch my forehead and cheeks for signs of a lingering fever. “Hey, hon, how are you feeling?”
    I tried to swallow. My throat was raw, as if someone had rubbed sandpaper down it. “Thirsty,” I managed to whisper.
    Mom handed me a glass of water. I moved to sit up, but my aching lower abdomen made me freeze and moan. It felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to my stomach. “Did someone beat me up?”
    Mom laughed, but it sounded weak. “Not quite.”
    I settled for lifting only my head so I could sip some water to ease my throat. When I had finished, I said, “What happened to me?”
    All three of them shared glances with one another. Talk about übercreepy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even seen them all in the same room together, much less doing that annoying wordless-communication thing with their eyes that all adults seemed to love to do.
    â€œMichael, you should tell her now,” Mom said, moving to sit at the end of the bed by my feet.
    With a curt nod, Dad clasped his hands in front of him as if he were a preacher about to speak at a funeral. He couldn’t have been here long. Dressed in his usual dark blue suit, he looked like he always did…immaculate, not a wrinkle in sight, not a single strand of wavy black hair out of place. He stared down at me with the same eyes as mine. Unfortunately, his had always been better at hiding his emotions, staying an icy gray no matter what. Mine had an annoying habit of turning colors depending on my mood, making it impossible for me to hide anything.
    â€œSavannah, there are certain things you need to know about yourself,” he began.
    â€œBecause I was sick for a day or two?”
    â€œTry five,” Nanna said.
    I was sick for five days? “That was some flu.”
    â€œYou did not have the flu,” he said. “You are changing.”
    â€œChanging. Meaning…?”
    â€œI am a vampire. And your mother is a witch, along with your grandmother. This makes you a rarity in both our worlds, because my species of vampires are not supposed to be able to procreate—”
    â€œWhoa, whoa, whoa. Did you just say you’re a…a vampire? Do you mean like the role-playing kind, where you get dressed up with plastic fangs and go to weird parties?” Was this some kind of twisted, late April Fools’ joke?
    Nanna moved to sit on the bed at my hip. She wrapped her warm, papery hands around mine. “Savannah, honey, I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Your father is a vampire. A special kind, called an incubus.”
    â€œA demon? ” I gasped, finding I could still breathe, after all. I’d heard about the incubi, read something about them on the internet or in church. But my mind was way too foggy to remember the details. All my thoughts kept circling around the same thing…Dad was claiming that he was a demon vampire. A real demon vampire. Which didn’t even exist. And my mother and grandmother were supposed to be witches. But that was impossible. They both went to church. Nanna even played the church piano every Sunday morning. Shouldn’t they burst into flames as soon as they set foot on holy ground or something?
    â€œNot quite a demon,” Mom said. “At least not full-blooded. He’s from a line of vampires that mixed with demons a long time ago.”
    Oh, that made it all better.
    Nanna added, “This gives them the ability to get energy two ways…through the traditional methods—”
    â€œBlood. You’re saying you…you drink blood?” I gulped, looking at Dad.
    He nodded. “We can also take energy through a kiss.”
    â€œEnergy from a kiss.” My voice came out flat.
    They were all nuts.
    I slid my