by Kristie Cook
“Alexis, what’s—” Tristan didn’t finish his sentence. He stiffened, and his eyes scanned our surroundings. He sensed their presence. “Owen!”
As soon as Tristan called out his name, the buzzing exploded into different voices and random words and phrases, as if that one word had broken some kind of dam holding everything back.
“—I’ll wait—”
“—yes—”
“—she’ll come—”
“—maybe we should—”
“—no—”
“—stupid moron—”
“Ha! How lovely!” Even drenched in sarcasm, the words sounded like a breeze caressing silver chimes. A musical voice. A voice I’d already come to know too well.
“Vanessa,” I whispered. “She’s here.”
On the other side of the car, under the shade of a clump of mangrove trees, a white figure emerged. She remained in the shadows, but I could feel her piercing blue eyes on us. Her stone-white lips stretched into a grin. Then I noticed the other figures behind her. Vanessa stayed in the cover of the trees, but the others started moving toward us.
“Go!” Owen yelled. “Before they get too close!”
He thrust his hands out at the approaching Daemoni, and one of them collapsed to the ground. Someone laughed. Then a blur of a figure shot toward us.
The next thing I knew, Tristan had me scooped into his arms. Then I felt that pull on the air in my lungs, and a fraction of a second later, I sucked in a chest-full of air. Before I could take another deep breath, Tristan leapt several yards. Then he set me on my feet and pulled on my hand. I stumbled over wild ferns and other brush, scraping my arm against a palmetto’s fronds. Our beach house stood thirty yards away. We were within the safety of the shield.
“They’re back! But not Owen. I don’t smell him. Where is he? I need him!”
Panting, I leaned over, my hands on my knees and my elbows locked to support me, as I tried to figure out what was going on. The words made no sense. I didn’t recognize the female voice. Nobody should even be here. Was I confused? Was the adrenaline shooting through my veins messing with my head? Had Swirly decided to return?
“If Owen doesn’t get here, Seth will kill me!”
I shot up and stood perfectly straight, frozen in place. Only the Daemoni called him Seth.
Chapter 15
A string of profanity flew out of Tristan’s mouth. He didn’t need to hear the female’s thoughts. He knew she was there. His nostrils flared. His eyes sparked. He crouched in front of me, in a protective stance. I didn’t know if my mind put up some kind of wall to block her thoughts out of fear, if her mind went blank, or if she’d disappeared, but the female’s thoughts fell silent.
I opened my mouth to ask what happened to Owen, then clamped it shut when an unfamiliar scent wafted below my nose, the odd mixture of honey, mesquite, and dirt. Then I saw movement in the brush about ten yards away and froze. The top of a sapling wavered. Something snapped, the sound of a thick branch breaking under a heavy weight. Then a face appeared next to the rough bark of a palm tree. My heart sputtered. I blinked several times. The figure wasn’t human. It wasn’t even an animal that belonged on this continent, except in a zoo.
Large, yellow cat eyes stared back at us, framed with black and white stripes. A long, orangish-tan nose ended in a rounded muzzle with whiskers poking out of the sides. Round, black ears, pointed backward, twitched and then rotated forward. The huge feline head dipped down, but the eyes never ceased their careful watch on us. An orange paw as big as my head moved forward. Tristan soared at it.
“Tristan! That’s a freaking tiger!” I shrieked.
He landed on the big beast’s back, and his arms wrapped around it. They rolled twice and stopped with Tristan on top. His muscles bulged as he squeezed the barrel chest. The cat struggled under him. Long claws dug into the dirt. Its tail whipped side to side. Lips pulled back, revealing curved fangs as long and nearly as thick as my index finger. But the tiger never growled or lashed out at Tristan.
“Tristan, wait!” Owen yelled from right behind me, and I spun on him in surprise. I hadn’t even noticed his return, too worried about Tristan. His blond hair stuck out everywhere, and black smudges marked his face. A slash in his jeans gaped open just above his knee.
I turned back to Tristan and the beast, just in time to see the big cat begin to shrink. The orange, black, and white fur appeared to retract into its skin. The limbs narrowed and transformed. The claws became fingers. Tristan jumped to his feet, landing fifteen feet away, his palm faced toward the morphing shape.
“Easy, Tristan,” Owen said, taking a few steps toward them. “It’s okay. She’s with me.”
The figure became a naked woman, long and lean, thin but with well-defined muscles. She lay on her stomach, her long, dark hair shrouding her face. Bruises covered her body—some new, probably from Tristan, but others a greenish-gray. She didn’t move, and for a moment I thought she was dead. But it was Tristan holding her still with his paralyzing power.
Tristan kept his hand toward her, even as Owen rushed to her side. He pulled his shirt off, knelt beside her, and lay his shirt over her, trying to tuck it in under her body to cover her.
“What do you mean, she’s with you?” Tristan growled. “She’s a fucking Daemoni!”
The woman whimpered.
“Can you at least let her sit up?” Owen asked.
Tristan’s eyes blazed, but he must have let up. The woman rolled into a sitting position and tucked herself into a protective ball. She slowly lifted her head to look up at us, and I recognized the young woman’s face. Her brown eyes were full of the same fear I’d seen in them the other night in Key West, when the vampires were threatening her. But then she froze, and I assumed Tristan paralyzed her again. Her head twitched, as if she’d tried to move but couldn’t against Tristan’s power.
“She wants to convert,” Owen said. “She doesn’t want to be one of them.”
Another growl rumbled in Tristan’s chest.
“Please help me,” she whispered, her eyes pleading with us.
“It’s a trick, Owen,” Tristan barked. “What the hell are you thinking?”
“No,” she said, her eyes looking wild with protest. “Please. I don’t want to be them. I never did. What they did to me . . . I hate that life. You have to know, of all people.”
Tristan’s hand never moved, but his eyes exploded in flames. “Of all people, I know the trick of pretending to want to change.”
“But you did want to change, Tristan,” Owen reminded him.
“She’s not me!”
Owen stood to his full height, only a couple of inches shorter than Tristan. His eyes looked hard as sapphires as he glared at his best friend. “You’re not the only one who hates that life. We’ve converted thousands who never wanted to be like them, but were forced against their wills.”
They stared at each other, as if in a standoff. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the woman. Her stringy hair draped around a dirt-smudged face. Her high cheekbones and angular jaw might have given the impression of strength at any other time, but right now she looked scared and weak. Actually, she looked downright pitiful. I could hardly believe that just a minute ago she’d been a deadly beast.
“This is what we’re supposed to do,” Owen finally said to Tristan, breaking the silence. “This is part of being Amadis. It’s our obligation to help her, to save her soul.”
“It’s not what we do, Owen!” Tristan bellowed, making me jump and pulling my attention away from the girl. “Not you or me. That’s what Rina and Sophia and some of the others do. Not us. We can’t do it, and you’re putting Alexis’s life on the line. Your job is to protect Alexis.”
Owen’s eyes darted to me, to the woman, and then back to Tristan. “She’s been here since yesterday morning. She’s had plenty of opportunity if she wanted to do anything.”
Tristan’s eyes narrowed as he leaned toward Owen. “I don’t know what you’re tryin
g to pull here, but I would have sensed her.”
“I had her under a separate shield, blocked from you. But I couldn’t guarantee both shields would hold while I was gone, so I put her under this one right before I left.”
Tristan responded with a long growl deep in his chest. His anger frightened me. If he lost control, he might do something he would regret later. He had every right to be angry with Owen, of course. This Were’s presence could have posed a danger to us . . . if she weren’t so damn pathetic looking.
Tristan rocked back on his heels.
“You could have warned us,” he finally said to Owen, anger still in his voice but not as heated as it had been. “I still think it’s a trap.”
“He’ll never believe me. Night’s coming. They’ll come looking for me. I’d rather him kill me than go back to them.”
I continued watching the young woman as she trembled on the ground, Owen’s light blue shirt fluttering around her. Her eyes turned to me and focused on mine. She seemed to plead with me for understanding.
“Tristan, I think she might be for real,” I said quietly.
“Yes! She’ll do it! She can change me!”
“Alexis—”
I held my hand up to stop him and tried to indicate with a lift of my brow that I heard more than our spoken words. I wanted nothing more than to block out this woman’s thoughts. I was already tired of people entering my brain, with no way to control it. I didn’t know why some thoughts were so loud and clear and others were annoying hums and buzzes. I really wished it would all go away, that I could at least turn the ruckus off at will. But I couldn’t. And this woman didn’t know I could read her mind. She wouldn’t be trying to fool me with telepathic lies. Her thoughts were real.
“Please help me,” she whispered, her eyes still holding mine. “Please say she believes me. Please, please, please!”
“We’re supposed to help her, right?” I asked, looking at Owen. I knew little about the Amadis, but Rina once said the Daemoni tried to destroy human souls and our job was to protect them, to save them. Owen nodded. “How?”
His body noticeably relaxed. “I hoped you could—”
“Have you lost your mind?” Tristan growled. “She can’t do anything! She’s not ready!”
My eyes went wide, and I shook my head. “Owen, I don’t . . . I can’t . . .”
I didn’t know what he expected me to do. I had no idea how to convert souls. I knew Mom used her power of persuasion, and I also knew the physical actions she used to lead people to do as she said. But I didn’t know how she actually persuaded them. I didn’t have that power. At least, I didn’t think I did.
“She just needs Amadis power right now, to keep her subdued,” Owen said. “I’ll call for Amadis help when we leave for Atlanta in the morning. For now, just share your power.”
I stared at him with disbelief. The girl’s eyes jumped back and forth between us, her expression mixed with hope and fear. I felt bad for her and wanted to help her. But what Owen asked . . . I didn’t know if I could do it.
“She’s not strong enough,” Tristan said, and I looked at him.
“You said you could feel it,” I reminded him.
He shook his head. “Not enough to do what this . . . this monster needs.”
“Please,” the girl said. “Just try. Anything.”
I looked at Owen, and he nodded. Then I looked at Tristan. The fire in his eyes had died down to just sparks. He was coming around.
“She’s not a monster. She might not be exactly human, but—”
“She’s Daemoni,” Tristan said.
“Which is why I have to try,” I said to him, and then I looked at the girl. “What’s your name?”
“Sh-sh-sheree.”
“I make no promises, Sheree,” I said. “I have no idea what I’m doing. And if you try anything, these two will stop you in an instant. Understand?”
Her head twitched again, but she still couldn’t move it. I wasn’t willing to take the chance of asking Tristan to lift his power. He might be right. This could truly be a trick. I took the twitch as a nod of understanding, raised my right arm, and turned my palm toward her, pushing that warm energy out of it.
“AAAAHHHH!” She screamed. Her body convulsed as if in agonizing pain, even against Tristan’s power. I jumped back, jerking my hand to my chest.
“No! Don’t . . . stop,” she begged through panted breaths. “It hurts . . . but . . . it’s working. I can feel it.”
I tried again, but I could tell the energy came too weakly to make a difference. I barely felt the pull through my arm and out my palm. Sheree trembled, her face twisted in pain, but the quivering quickly slowed. Tears fell down her cheeks. I strained, pushing harder, but nothing more came. I, too, began to shake, all of my muscles feeling like jelly.
“That’s all I have,” I admitted. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s all you can project,” Owen said. “It’s harder from a distance. Maybe if you touched her, held her hand, like Rina does . . .”
“No!” Tristan roared. His free hand twitched, and I soared into the circle of his arm. He held me tightly against him. “You’re not going anywhere near her. She could kill you, Alexis. Hell, for all we know, you could kill her.”
“I don’t care,” Sheree said, her voice rough and pleading. “They’re going to kill me anyway, after this. I’d rather die trying than die . . . evil . . . damned to Hell.”
Her words struck me like a mallet hitting a gong, reverberating throughout my body and into my soul. If she died right now, would she be damned to Hell? I didn’t know the answer, but that wasn’t a risk we could take. We had to help her. Her soul lay on the line.
“You can handle her easily if anything happens,” I said to Tristan.
“You have no idea what the process is like,” he said through clenched teeth. “It’s draining. It sucks your energy dry. Both of yours. And you’re already unstable as it is.”
“But between the three of us, we can at least help her fight it,” I said. “You can help me.”
Tristan looked at Owen. “Why don’t you just call for someone right now? Someone who can handle this better?”
“The Amadis are all fighting. There are attacks everywhere, remember? The closest ones are finishing the battle I just left to make sure you two were okay.”
Tristan swore under his breath. He looked down at me, and I raised my eyebrows in a silent plea. He gave in with a groan.
“Let’s get out of the damn brush, at least. Owen, take the Were to the balcony. And Owen . . .” Tristan paused until he knew he had Owen’s full attention. His voice came low and threatening. “I swear, if anything happens to Alexis, you will live a long life full of painful regret. I personally guarantee it.”
Owen inclined his head in acknowledgement, then helped Sheree to her feet. Her knees knocked together, and I was surprised she could hold herself up. She looked so feeble. She pulled the shirt tightly together in the front, but she was so tall, Owen’s button-down shirt barely reached far enough to cover the important lower parts.
Tristan strode off toward the house, his hand wrapped around mine, tugging me along with him. He slammed the door as soon as we were inside.
“I can’t believe this,” he growled. “This is senseless.”
“It’s not for long. We’ll get help,” I said. “Right?”
“I just don’t get it. This is not like Owen. He wouldn’t jeopardize your life like this. What is he thinking?”
I gently pushed on Tristan’s chest, backing him against the kitchen counter. He slumped down and pulled me into his arms. I placed my hands on each side of his face.
“He’s thinking like an Amadis,” I said.
“No. He’s thinking with his dick.”
“Tristan!”
“There’s no other way to explain it.” He put his own hands on the sides of my face and pulled it up toward his. His lips pressed down on mine, but he broke off too soon. “I think we’re too
much for him.”
“I wasn’t done kissing you.” I’d felt something besides normal desire when he kissed me, so I crushed my lips on his. The longer we kissed, the stronger I felt. His love boosted my Amadis power. I finally pulled back, though, before I passed out from lack of oxygen. I forced myself to remember how to breathe. “That’s how we’re going to do this. She needs to feel love again.”
“Then let Owen give it to her. We’re busy.” His lips left an electric trail down my chin, around my jaw and down my neck. His hands slid over my back, one traveling lower, squeezing my butt. My hands glided along his head to the ponytail and pulled him back.
“I don’t think it works like that,” I murmured over the pounding of my heart. “She needs love. Not lust.”
“Mmm . . . it makes me feel better.” A small smile tugged at his delicious lips, and to be honest, I wanted to let him take me right there on the kitchen counter. Apparently, he wanted the same thing because his thought of lifting me up and yanking off my panties floated in my mind. But Owen paced the balcony outside, making impatient sounds with each turn. Tristan sighed and gave a sideways glance out the sliding glass doors. “At least he put some clothes on her.”
I peeked out the window. Sheree sat on the balcony floor, her knees pulled to her chest in a ball. Seeing her human form in a different setting made it even harder to believe she shifted into a killer feline. She still wore Owen’s shirt, the sleeves rolled up to just above her wrists, and she now wore a pair of red-and-blue-plaid boxer shorts, as well. I couldn’t have provided any better. Not only were nearly all of my clothes dirty, but she was tall and thin. I was short and, at least when I came here, fat. My own shorts only fit me by rolling the waist several times or with a pin. They would fall right down to her ankles.
“Is that what started this? Her being naked?” I teased.
He chuckled. “No, my love. Seeing your naked body through that little dress is what started this.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Is that another power you haven’t told me about? X-ray vision?”