by Kristie Cook
“At least she has thoughts now,” I said. “I just can’t tell what they are.”
“Well, that’s better than the complete blank you were getting before,” Mom said.
“I hope they clear.” I squeezed Rina’s hand, giving her as much Amadis power as I could. Between sharing it with her and Lilith for so long, however, pushing all that I had into them to heal their bodies and souls, I was drained.
“Alexis, you need a break,” Mom said. “I’ll stay with her today and tonight.”
“I’m fine.” I laid my head on Rina’s bed. “I just need to rest a little.”
“You need to sleep,” she corrected. “You need to recharge and regenerate.”
“Rina needs me,” I said sleepily.
“She needs your full power. Go. Get some real sleep. Spend some time with your family. You need it.”
I opened my mouth to protest. I didn’t care what I needed. Not when I’d failed Lilith because I hadn’t given her enough of what she needed. Not when I could still fail Rina.
“Your family needs it,” Mom said, cutting me off. “Rina needs you to do it.”
She knew how to get to me. I sighed with resignation, but couldn’t bring myself to move from Rina’s bed. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d slept in her bed, but as long as I did while keeping my hand tightly around hers and feeding her my Amadis power, I’d never truly regenerate. Mom was right. I was depleted. Exhausted. Too tired to even move.
The next thing I knew, I woke up in my own bed.
A large, hard body pressed against the back of mine, and a heavy arm draped over me and held me tightly. I wrapped my hand over Tristan’s and entwined my fingers with his. A thick, strong river of his love washed into me, filling every cell as though I’d immersed myself under a waterfall of emotion. Besides sleep, this was exactly what I needed. I drew on his love with a hunger I hadn’t realized I’d had, as if my soul had been starving for this connection. How blessed I am to be his, I thought as my power began to rebuild within me.
Then Tristan stirred, and his mind signature brightened with consciousness as he awoke. And the strength of the love flowing from him diminished into a narrow stream.
That thought pricked at my heart. Why would his love lessen? That couldn’t be right. No, not an actual lessening. Just normal restraint. We all do it. Of course that was it—consciousness kept his emotions in check. Tristan was so good at controlling his emotions, but I’d never before realized how much he kept his love hidden, even from me.
“Good morning, ma lykita,” he whispered against my ear.
I peered around the darkness of our suite.
“It’s still night.”
“Hmm . . . I’d say about three a.m. Technically morning.” He rolled away from me, onto his back. I turned over, saw his eyes still closed, and laid my head in the soft crook between his shoulder and chest.
“Still night,” I said, closing my eyes. His mind signature relaxed again, and his current of love strengthened. I drank it in as I drifted to sleep.
“I don’t want to go!” Dorian crossed his arms over his chest, flipped his light blond hair out of his hazel eyes, and scowled at me as I leaned against the wardrobe in his room at the mansion, having delivered the news that he and Tristan would be going home tomorrow. “I don’t want to leave you. Why aren’t you coming with us?”
He gave a football on the floor a kick across the room. Good thing the wall was made of stone; plaster would have been ruined with the force. I pressed my lips together and breathed deeply through my nose, practicing my own emotional restraint.
As much as I hated being separated from my two men, I needed to stay to help Mom with Rina and with everything else. Mom couldn’t do it all—manage the entire Amadis as acting matriarch and also nurse Rina back to health—on her own.
“I’ll be coming home as soon as I can,” I promised. “As soon as Rina’s all better. And look on the bright side—you’ll have Dad all to yourself.”
He didn’t respond to this, but I could see in his eyes that he liked this perk.
I hated it. Well, for me. It would be good for Tristan and Dorian to have some extended one-on-one time together, but I hated that they had to leave. However, it was unavoidable and not unexpected. Dorian had celebrated his eighth birthday a couple of months ago, and the older he became, the more likely he’d keep memories into adulthood—memories of Amadis secrets he’d take with him when he went to the Daemoni. If he goes to the Daemoni. IF, dammit. I refused to accept its inevitability.
We’d been able to keep him on the island this long because Tristan and I both had reason to be here. With Lilith gone and Bree leaving, though, we were out of excuses for Tristan’s presence, which meant he could take Dorian home. Especially now that Rina was awake and we all knew it wouldn’t be long before I could leave, too.
“I’ll miss you,” Dorian said. He looked away from me and stared out the window. “I’ll miss this place.”
I felt his pain. Since Dorian had discovered the village on the other end of the island and the people within it, we began taking him there on occasion. After all, if we couldn’t somehow break the curse that would allow the Daemoni to claim him, it wasn’t as though the fact of a village or magical people living here would be such a great secret for him to share. The Daemoni already knew about that.
He hadn’t exactly made friends here—the adults didn’t appreciate the idea of Dorian, their future enemy, getting too close to their kids, as if the curse, if there even was one, might rub off on them. But at least the kids here didn’t make fun of him as they had at the Norman schools, and they understood him better than any Norman kids ever would. Even if he hadn’t forged a tight bond with any of them, he obviously felt a sense of community here.
I opened my arms to him. He ignored me for a moment, his fists on his hips and the corners of his mouth still pulled down. But then he rushed across the room to me and threw his arms around my neck.
“I’m sorry, little man,” I said, hugging him tightly. “You still have Dad and me and Sasha, though.”
“But not . . . not Uncle Owen.” And the dam that had been containing his tears burst. He sobbed against my shoulder. “Why did he leave us? Is he ever coming back? What if you don’t come home, either?”
I blinked away my own tears at the realization of his true fear. He didn’t want to leave here, but his feelings had less to do about where he was, and more about whom he was with. Since Tristan had been gone most of his life, he feared that we’d each disappear on him. He didn’t want to lose his loved ones. This is good. He needs to know love as deeply as possible. I counted on love—ours for him and his for us—to help fight the curse or whatever it was that compelled our sons to convert to the Daemoni.
“Uncle Owen will be back,” I said for the hundredth time, praying it was true. “And I’ll definitely be coming home. I can’t stay away from my two men for long.”
Dorian pulled away just enough to look at my face. “Maybe Rina will be better tomorrow, and you can come with us.”
I chuckled. “That would be wonderful. But really, little man, don’t worry. I’ll be home with you and Dad before you know it.”
After some more coaxing and soothing, he finally gave in, and we spent the remainder of the day together as a family. I needed their love to rejuvenate me and took advantage of the last chance I had to absorb it and boost my Amadis power. I already missed them. I’d been spending so much time bouncing between Rina and Lilith, I hadn’t been able to spend nearly enough time with my own little family. And now they’d be leaving.
After putting Dorian to bed that night, Tristan and I snuck off to our private place on the island, a little clearing in the woods, far from the mansion and even farther from the village. Having to stay here for so long and my little problem with my gift during sex had led us to finding a place far enough away that I could let my shield down. We were right on the edge of the island, not far from where we held the funerals.
“I wish there was another way,” Tristan murmured, turning to press his lips to my temple. His warm breath tickled my ear. “I already miss you.”
“I know.” I burrowed my face against his wide, muscular chest, and inhaled deeply, tasting his tangy-sweet scent of mangos, papayas, lime, and sage on my lips, on my tongue. “Me, too.”
He trailed his hand down the length of my side, sending a current over my skin. “I already miss this.”
“Me, too,” I breathed against him. “Not long, though, right?”
“Rina looked good when I saw her today. As good as can be expected anyway. She’ll be back to herself soon, I’m sure, especially with your power.”
My hand slid up his rippled abs and hard pecs, along his neck, and up to his velvety soft face where I held him. My thumb stroked his cheek. “I love you, my sweet Tristan.”
“I love you, too, ma lykita.” He showed me again with his body exactly how much.
And, although he made me feel as incredible as always, something seemed to be . . . missing.
Chapter 3
Rina’s eyes glassed over as she looked away from Mom and stared out the open French doors to the balcony, though she didn’t appear to be gazing at the view of the cypress trees with the Aegean Sea sparkling behind them. She sat in her oversized bed, propped by a mountain of pillows, but her mind had traveled to another place . . . to another time. Perhaps to when she’d first met the people whose names Mom had just mentioned, or maybe to when she’d ordained them to her council.
“Adolf and Shihab,” she murmured, dabbing a finger at the corners of her eyes. “And you said others?”
“Yes, but we don’t need to discuss this right now,” Mom said, studying Rina’s haggard face as she adjusted the covers. My grandmother’s brown eyes looked even larger than usual in her thin face, accented by dark purple half-moons under her lower lids.
Tristan had been both right and wrong about Rina’s quick recovery—she regained a good portion of her mental capacity the day after he and Dorian had left and had continued showing improvement in the ten days since, but physically she struggled. With as many hours of the day that she slept, her body should have restored itself twenty times over by now, but her cells weren’t regenerating as they should have been.
“Yes, we do need to discuss it right now,” Rina said, shooing Mom’s fussing hands away with a flick of her own.
Mom pulled back and instead made herself busy by pouring Rina a cup of tea. “Mother, it can wait—”
Rina’s eyes snapped to Mom’s face. “My people are dying, Sophia. It can not wait!” Her chest rose and fell in a calming breath before she took the teacup and saucer from Mom. “Who else?”
Mom pinched the bridge of her nose and squinted her eyes. She looked as tired as I felt. Now that Rina was awake and coherent, Mom and I had been spending more time in here with her, gradually bringing her up to date on the state of the Amadis. As her mind began to clear, one of Rina’s first questions had been about whether Tristan and I had recovered the pendant yet.
I hadn’t been surprised she’d focused on the pendant, especially since we hadn’t yet told her about all of the Daemoni attacks. But they probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference. The next Amadis daughter would always remain a top priority, and the pendant housed the stone I needed in my possession to ensure Tristan’s fertility. Although it wouldn’t guarantee a daughter, I would definitely never conceive Tristan’s baby without the stone. The Angels may or may not have instilled the faerie stone with additional qualities, but if they had, the Daemoni could possibly turn it against us, making it a weapon. We needed the pendant, but we hadn’t been able to find it or the vampire-bitch who had stolen it until two weeks ago. Who knew when we’d find her again?
“Alexis, I will need you to take further risks now. We need that pendant,” Rina had said. “It will be our top priority. You and Tristan will lead the operation, and I will give soldiers to assist.”
Mom and I had exchanged a glance, but said nothing at the time to Rina. The matriarch had been returning to her authoritative self, which was good, but she didn’t have the full story then. She hadn’t known about the increase in Daemoni attacks or that our soldiers were already stretched thin. We hadn’t wanted to bring up all of the Amadis deaths until Rina’s health improved.
Now, only a few days later, we could no longer avoid that discussion.
“Who else?” Rina repeated.
Mom didn’t need to answer. The memories others had shared with me flashed through my mind, and I passed them on to Rina. My grandmother closed her eyes, and the teacup rattled in the saucer as she watched the gruesome images of the fights Adolf and Shihab had been in with the Daemoni. Fangs flashed and blood splattered as limbs and heads were severed from bodies. Wolves, cougars, and lions transformed into human bodies as they died on the battlefield. Some of the German and Arabian troops had fallen with their leaders in the violent battles. Then more abhorrent visuals played of the Daemoni attacking Armand and his people as they tried to gather intelligence for us. My own memories of the funerals on the cliff also flashed for Rina, and I could feel her despair deepen with each one.
“The last one we sent to the Angels, before Lilith, was Armand’s second-in-command, last month,” Mom finally said.
I had liked Armand’s second a lot—much more than the French vampire himself who had been one of Tristan’s primary accusers last fall. His second had been a female were-bear and a much better leader than her boss. I’d only met her a couple of times, but admired her kind heart and tough demeanor. Hers was the only funeral, until Lilith’s, where tears had stung my eyes.
I’d shed no tears for Adolf, the German werewolf who had also been one of Tristan’s adamant accusers. Yes, he was Amadis, so I probably should have felt some remorse, and I supposed I did. A little. But only because we needed every last soul. I certainly held no personal affection for him beyond that.
“The rest of the Amadis are busy, but doing fairly well,” Mom added. “The Daemoni are focused on Normans.”
“How many are they infecting?” Rina asked as she shakily placed her cup and saucer on the nightstand next to her. “How bad is it?”
Mom shook her head. “We aren’t sure of exact numbers, but enough that Normans are taking notice. Some smaller countries have closed their borders completely, blaming the mysterious deaths and disappearances on foreign terrorists. It’s only a matter of time before leaders begin considering more drastic measures. If the Daemoni continue their current rate of attacks, or God forbid, increase . . .”
Mom trailed off as Rina rubbed her finger and thumb against her closed eyelids. I took her other hand and pushed more Amadis power into her. She squeezed my hand in return.
“This is too much for you, Mother. You need to rest,” Mom said.
Rina stopped rubbing her eyes and glowered at Mom. “I apparently have been resting for eight months while the world falls apart around me. Do you truly believe I can sleep right now?” She shook her head. “Continue. How many have we converted?”
Mom sighed and took a seat in the chair by Rina’s bed. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands clasped together. “Not enough. Not many at all. Our safe houses aren’t empty, but we don’t have enough conversion specialists to be more aggressive with the Daemoni’s victims. Charlotte has been doing what she can. So have our others. But you, Alexis, and I have the strongest Amadis power, and, well . . .”
Rina gave me a sideways glance and looked back at Mom. “You two have been here with me rather than out there helping.”
Accusation laced her tone, but what did she expect? She was family. Besides, she was the matriarch. We weren’t the only ones who needed her.
“The Amadis need a matriarch, that is true,” Rina said. “But we have a line of succession. If I had not
made it—if I still do not make it—we have you, Sophia. The infected need you more than the people need me.”
Mom opened her mouth, likely to protest, but Rina didn’t let her speak.
“That is knowledge for you to remember for the future. At the moment, however, I understand the predicament. Alexis is newly turned. She needs to be trained in the art of conversion. Or have you been, darling?” Rina turned her eyes on me. I shook my head.
“As you said, we’ve both been here the whole time,” Mom said.
“I did try with Lilith, but . . .” My eyes stung again at the thought of Lilith. I cleared my throat. “But I failed.”
“Alexis, darling,” Rina said, “you did not fail. Lilith’s soul is safe. I made sure of it before returning.”
My mouth fell open. We’d all thought Rina’s grunts when she’d first come out of the coma to be nonsense, perhaps a muttering of her last memory before she went down.
“You mean . . .” I stammered.
“The Angels took her soul, yes. I’d been holding the connection to the Otherworld for her, and when Lilith finally accepted your power and moved on, I was able to let go. You did well.” Rina tilted her head as she seemed to study my face more closely. “This explains your exhaustion, however. Your low power levels.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your Amadis power is low for you, Alexis. You have tried to do too much.”
I shrugged. “I had to. I had to help Lilith. And you . . . you . . .” The tears came against my wishes. The emotions I’d been trying to hold inside for days burst through. “Oh, Rina, I’m so sorry I doubted you before. You always take care of us, and I had thought . . . I had thought . . .” I couldn’t admit now the blame I had put on her for betraying Tristan and me, of keeping our daughter from us, and calling me a liar about it all. I’d been so wrong, so very wrong about her. “I’m so sorry, Rina. It’s my fault you were even hit.”