by Kristie Cook
And just like that, Blossom had our conversation turned in a whole different direction.
“Sonya’s still in early recovery mode, which means she’s more like a zombie than a vampire, pretty much doing nothing but listening to Sheree’s lessons. Charlotte’s busy with all the other safe houses, which are staying pretty full with the Daemoni attacks. They’re definitely trying to build an army.”
“And we do the same, which takes away from their numbers, right?”
“Right. So Charlotte’s working her butt off, and all the other safe houses are so full, they can’t spare any team members to join me down here. I can’t help them, though, because I’m not experienced enough, but Char’s too busy to train me. It’s a catch-22.” My annoyance rose, causing my brush to slip and paint a streak of pale aqua on the white ceiling. I swore to myself. “I supposedly have all this power, but I’m completely useless.”
Blossom murmured something under her breath, and the blue streak on the ceiling disappeared. “So why don’t you go into the field?”
I sighed. “You know me. I can’t leave Dorian for that long. Besides, Rina says Tristan and I are only to leave here to retrieve the pendant since we have no protector. But still, the stupid vampire bitch plays her game of hide-and-seek.”
Over the last couple of months, Blossom had watched Dorian a few times while Tristan and I tried to find Vanessa in her normal hangouts, but if she were anywhere around, we couldn’t draw the vampire out from her hiding spot. I thought she would have given in by now, too obsessed with killing me to stay away, but she either had more self-control than any of us gave her credit for, or she was distracted by something even bigger and better than we could imagine. Which was a pretty scary thought, considering the last time we knew of her whereabouts, Owen had been with her.
I still hadn’t figured out that whole situation, and I tried to follow everyone’s advice not to worry—“he can take care of himself”—but my heart still ached for him. His voicemail greeting changed every now and then, which meant he was at least alive and kicking. I called or texted him daily, hoping this might be the time he answered. He hadn’t answered yet. I began to believe he truly hated me for what I’d done to his father.
“Yeah, it all pretty much sucks,” I said. “At least if I had a team here, I’d feel like I was somehow helping the cause.” A thought occurred to me then. “Blossom, you were born into the Amadis, right?”
The witch looked up at me as she finished the last patch of our first wall, a strange expression on her face. She seemed to ponder whether to tell me something, but then, after a deep breath, she let it all spill.
“Sort of. I was never part of the Daemoni, if that’s what you mean. My father—sperm donor, as you’d call him—was a Daemoni wizard who raped my Norman mother. Aunt Sylvie, his sister, had converted to Amadis years before, and she found out about my mother, took her in until I was born, then changed her memories so she thought she’d miscarried, and sent her on her way.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “How horrible.”
“Yeah. Rape is pretty common among the Daemoni. Sick bastards.”
A thought needled into my brain, and my stomach clenched. Had Tri— I immediately pushed the thought away. I didn’t know if I ever wanted that answer.
“How awful that you never knew either of your parents, though,” I said. “Why did your aunt do that to you and your mother? How could she do that to you?”
“Good intentions, believe me. If my father found out he’d gotten my mother pregnant, he’d come after me, knowing I’d have magic. He would have killed her and raised me Daemoni, and Aunt Sylvie wouldn’t allow that. Yeah, I’m a result of a really effed-up situation.” She shrugged. “But Aunt Sylvie loves me, even when she’s annoyed at my screw-ups. She and the rest of the coven raised me well.”
I climbed down the ladder and moved it to the next wall, then returned the conversation to the idea I’d had. “So did Sylvie ever teach you to use your Amadis power?”
“In case you couldn’t tell when you met her last year, Aunt Sylvie isn’t big on getting involved like that. She and her coven prefer staying out of the limelight.”
“Hmm . . . is it something—”
“Hey, Mom!” Dorian yelled as he ran into the living room, Sasha right on his heels.
“Hey, little man,” I said. “Watch out for the wet—”
Too late. Sasha’s tail swished across the wall we’d just painted, leaving an ugly streak in the paint and a pretty blue tint on the tip of her white tail.
“Um, maybe you two should go to your room,” I said.
“But I wanted to show you what I taught Sasha. Will you watch?”
I lowered my brush and nodded. With a big smile, one I’d give anything to see the rest of my life, my son proceeded to kneel down on all fours. The lykora, looking like a normal white dog at the moment, stood next to him, both of their butts toward Blossom and me.
“Ready, Sasha?” Dorian said, and Sasha bobbed her head. “1 . . . 2 . . . 3.”
They both let out the loudest farts I’d ever heard. Dorian howled with laughter as he rolled on the floor, and Sasha danced circles around him, barking and wagging her tail with pride.
“I taught her how to fart on command!” Dorian gasped with glee, as if that was the best and funniest trick ever.
Speechless, I looked sideways at Blossom, whose body silently quaked as she held her hand over her mouth.
“Boys,” I whispered, shaking my head, and unable to keep it in any longer, we both doubled over with laughter, joining Dorian’s hoots.
“Sasha, that is so unladylike,” I admonished the lykora as I wiped my eyes.
“She’s not a lady, Mom. She’s a dog! And the best one ever.” Dorian threw his arms around Sasha’s neck, and she returned his love with a tongue up the side of his face. “Mom, I think our guy in our book needs to have a pet dragon.”
“A dragon?” I asked, confused. He referred to the children’s story we were writing together. The book would probably never get published since there was no Amadis purpose for Rina and Mom to pull their strings with their contacts, but it gave Dorian and me something to work on together. He enjoyed that part of his language studies, but his comment came out of the blue. “Why not a dog?”
“Duh, Mom. Because a dragon can fart fire!”
Blossom still hadn’t stopped giggling, and this idea made her crack up harder, sending Dorian and me into hysterics again, too. Dorian abruptly quieted.
“Mom,” he said, and my laughter stopped immediately at the serious tone of his voice. “What’s wrong with Sasha?”
The dog stood at the window now, her nose pressed against the glass. Her all-white fur began to show shades of her lykora stripes. Dorian hurried over to see what she saw, but the hair on the nape of my neck already began to rise.
“What’s out there?” I managed to ask over the lump in my throat.
“Two babes getting out of a taxi,” Dorian said. “They have funny hair, though. One’s blue and the other’s purple.”
I blurred to the window. Crap. Crap, crap, crap.
“Dorian, you need to go to your room now. I’m sure you have more studies to do,” I said, kneeling down to stroke Sasha’s back. My fingers grazed over knobby ridges where her wings would come out, and her baby powder scent filled my nostrils, stronger than usual with her heightened awareness. “It’s okay, girl,” I whispered.
“But I want to meet the pretty girls,” Dorian whined.
“Maybe later,” I said absently, watching the faeries as they paid the cabdriver. “Now go.”
I picked up Sasha and whispered in her ear. “Protect.”
She bounded out of my hands and trailed Dorian down the hall to his room. The faeries had never done anything to hurt us—had in fact helped us more than once—but they couldn’t be trusted. The only faerie we could trust completely was Bree.
“Should I get Tristan?” Blossom asked, standing next to me at the window.
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I considered it for only a moment. “Nah. I need to be able to take care of things on my own.”
Blossom peered at me with doubt. “Faeries, though? Are you sure?”
I nodded. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“You don’t even want to know.” She shook her head. “I’m staying, though. I’m not leaving you alone with them.”
The doorbell rang, and Blossom accompanied me to the front door. The faerie sisters beamed beautifully, both dressed in halters, short-shorts, and four-inch-high wedge sandals, looking like models ready for a shoot on the beach.
“Hey, Alexis!” Lisa, the blue-haired faerie, exclaimed, her southern drawl pronounced. “How ahr yew?”
I blinked. “Um, fine, I suppose.”
“Not happay to say us?” Jessica asked, a fake pout on her lips painted the same lilac color of her hair.
“Oh, no, of course not. I mean, it’s always good to see you,” I stammered. I stepped back from the door. “Please, come in.”
The faeries pushed past Blossom and me as they sauntered inside and down the hall, their heads bobbing to and fro as they unabashedly scrutinized my house worse than a mother-in-law.
“We’re painting,” I said, as if the mess didn’t make it obvious. “It’ll dry if we don’t keep going, so if you don’t mind . . .”
I led them into the half-painted living room where they both stood off to the side since I’d removed all the furniture.
“Um . . . I don’t think I have any tea. Would you like some water?”
“Water will do,” Jessica said.
“No lemon, though,” Lisa quickly added with a stunning smile.
They each sank down onto the covered floor as I went into the kitchen to fill two glasses with ice cubes and water.
“So what’s up?” I asked as I handed the glasses to the faeries, trying to be calm and casual.
“Well, aren’t y’all business?” Jessica said with a giggle.
I picked up my paintbrush and dipped it into the pan. “Somehow I doubt you’re here for a girls’ night out.”
Lisa’s face lit up. “Oh! Wouldn’t that bay so much fun?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jessica agreed. “Alexis, you should totally go out with us some time.”
“Um . . .” Crap. What had I gotten myself into? I couldn’t imagine these two in a club full of single men. Utter chaos I didn’t want to be a part of. “Maybe sometime. But that’s not really why you came, though. Is it?”
“Oh, of course not. We do have a few things to discuss.” Lisa looked over at Blossom, who had resumed painting, and back at me.
“Blossom can stay,” I said. “She pretty much knows everything. I trust her.”
The words came out of my mouth before I realized what I was saying, but I knew they were true. Blossom had proven herself trustworthy time and again.
Jessica cocked her head as she studied Blossom. “Huh. Are we seeing the beginnin’s of your council, Ms. Alexis?”
My face heated. The idea of needing my own council when I became matriarch seemed so far off that I’d never considered it. Rina’s council was largely made up of those she’d known the longest, those she trusted more than anyone. I supposed Blossom was that to me. Maybe she would be part of my council.
“I guess we’ll see one of these days,” I finally said as I climbed the ladder and looked down on them. “But let’s focus on right now. Did you find Owen?”
The faeries exchanged a significant look. Lisa spoke first.
“We did. We tried to distract him, as you requested when we were on Amadis Island, but he was, well . . . we didn’t have the same effect on him as we used to,” she said cryptically.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“He wouldn’t cooperate,” Jessica said. “We tried to have a little fun with him, but in the end, we couldn’t get him to return to the Amadis.”
“Well, I know that much already because, obviously, he’s not here, and you are. So where is he?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the faeries exchange another look, then shrug.
“Not our place to get involved anymore,” Lisa said. I fought a groan of exasperation.
“Then why are you here?” I demanded, flipping my hand out. Paint spattered off the tip of my brush, and the faeries jumped to their feet and moved backward a few paces, out of harm’s way.
Lisa put her fist on her hip. “We’re here to collect. You owe us.”
I turned on the ladder to stare at them with my mouth hanging open. “But you just said you failed.”
Jessica’s pretty lips lifted into an ugly grimace. “We didn’t fail. It’s not our fault he didn’t cooperate. We went out of our way, did everything we could at your request, and now you owe us.”
“But you didn’t deliver!” I protested.
“You dare deny us?” Jessica snarled, and I pulled back, not realizing I’d been leaning halfway off the ladder toward them. “Don’t be stupid, young one. You do not want to ignore faeries calling on your debt.”
Lisa placed a hand on Jessica’s arm. “Relax, little sister. Let’s tell her what we want first. She’ll come ’round.”
I narrowed my eyes. Maybe repaying them wouldn’t be so bad. “What do you want?”
“Well,” Lisa began, “if y’all haven’t figured it out, Kali the sorceress is still alive and well. Her soul had found its way off Amadis Island and into a new host. A young, redheaded Daemoni witch.”
I shifted on the ladder, mostly to fight the shiver trying to make its way up my back. “And?”
“We want her soul,” Jessica said bluntly.
My eyebrows popped up. “Seriously?”
“It’s not right, what she can do, moving herself from body to body. It puts everythin’ off balance, and those in the spirit realm require balance.”
“So you want me to convert her?”
The faeries laughed.
“Oh, no,” Lisa said. “There’s no hope for her soul! We want her soul in our possession, so we can take it to the Otherworld and leave it there.”
“And how would Alexis do that?” Blossom asked.
Out of nowhere, a small, ceramic jar with a tightly sealed lid appeared in Lisa’s hand. “Trap it in here. You’ll have to kill her physical host—or at least disable it as you did with Martin—and when her spirit rises, trap it inside.”
“Wait—disable Martin? Is he still alive? The real Martin?” I asked. Maybe that’s what had Owen so preoccupied.
“That is an answer we cannot give. Not part of our problem,” Jessica said.
I cocked my head. “But Kali is. So you can tell me if she’s what Owen’s looking for.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “Possibly. At one time anyway.”
“So why don’t you ask him to do this?” Blossom asked. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to.”
“He does owe us for bringing Bree to Amadis Island, but we don’t trust Owen or his motivations right now,” Lisa said, then she turned her gaze on me, to drive home her point. “We don’t feel confident that he’d follow through.”
I snorted. “Of course, he would. I’m sure there’s nothing Owen would love to do more than take that bitch down.”
Lisa’s eyes remained locked on mine and something sparked in them. “Don’t be so sure, Alexis. Arrogance is dangerous.”
“What does that mean?”
Jessica grunted her annoyance, and stood. “I’m bored. Let’s get out of here, sis.”
Lisa nodded. “Ya know how to repay us now. We’re not goin’ to give ya a deadline. We don’t need to. The longer that unnatural thing remains in this realm, the worse it is for the Amadis. So you don’t wanna delay too long.”
Lisa set the jar down, and the thing was small on the vast floor, but its purpose made it larger than life, consuming the entire space.
“But don’t ignore us either,” Jessica warned, her eyes full of menace. “Y’all don’t need the faeries’ wrath with everythin’ e
lse y’all got goin’ on.”
“It’s for everyone’s good,” Lisa said. “Just as much yours as it is ours. Say? We’re really not so bad now, are way?”
I didn’t answer, but simply stared at the two at a loss for words. They wanted me to capture Kali’s soul. Capture a soul! How on earth or any other realm would I do that?
Jessica’s expression changed completely to her friendly, shiny self. “Let’s do that girls’ night out sometime. You pick the date and place and give us a call.”
Lisa made a face. “But not South Beach. That place has gone to hell. Literally.”
“What do you mean?” Blossom asked. “It’s been a while, but I go there all the time.”
As usual, the faeries didn’t give us a straight answer.
“Ask your new vampire friend,” Lisa said to me. Then both faeries disappeared without so much as a pop.
Chapter 9
“What is it about South Beach?” Sheree asked when Tristan and I arrived at the safe house one morning the following week. When we both served up a bewildered expression, she continued. “You two and Blossom have said something about it lately, and now Sonya’s been talking in her sleep about South Beach. It’s like the topic of some mysterious conversation, and I feel left out.”
I looked up at Tristan. “Oh, that reminds me. The faeries hinted that Sonya knows something about South Beach that we might find interesting.”
“Well, she keeps saying Vanessa’s there,” Sheree said, making a disgusted face as if the vampire’s name tasted bad on her tongue. “At least, that’s what it sounds like.”
Tristan shrugged it off. “She must still be a little delusional. Not quite right yet.”
Sheree shook her head. “Oh, no. Actually, she’s been pretty lucid. But I haven’t asked her about it myself—I didn’t think it my place to. She’s awake, though. Go see for yourself.”
I needed to sit with the vampire anyway and feed her my power, so Tristan followed me to her room. Sonya sat in bed, watching an extremely popular vampire-romance movie on TV. She picked up the remote and muted the sound when she saw us.
“Ridiculous,” she said with an eye-roll. “But I guess it would suck to look like a drug addict who rolled around in bat shit every time you stepped into the sun. Becoming a little weaker than normal doesn’t seem so bad in comparison.”