by Kristie Cook
He spun at me. “He’s snapped, Alexis. Something’s made him completely lose it.”
One part of my brain heard him, but the other part focused on the scene.
“Holy hell!” My hand flew to my mouth.
He didn’t look like my Tristan. His back pressed against the front of the refrigerator, and he struggled forcefully, the fridge moving back and forth as if tied to him, I assumed by magic. His muscles bulged and strained against his clothes. He growled at me, his lips peeled back from his teeth like an animal. And his eyes. There were no whites, no green or gold. Just fire against blackness.
“Why do you have him tied up like an animal?” I cried, tears of anger and compassion burning my eyes.
“Because he’s a beast,” Mom said. “Stay away from him!”
“How did this happen? Did I do this to him? Is it because he took all that evil energy from me last night?”
“We are not sure,” Rina said, her voice more calm than anyone else’s. “Last night probably did not help matters, but I believe the Daemoni planted dark magic in him. Something to respond to you only. I think the energy change in you has set it off. Your Amadis power won, Alexis. You overcame the Daemoni force, and when that force left you . . .”
“He took it again, didn’t he?” I asked.
Rina’s dark expression answered my question. “Not like he did last night, no. Not on purpose. I believe it found him, as a . . . how do you say . . . an already open vessel. And now Tristan is losing.”
As Rina spoke, I wondered if Tristan was in a place like my meadow, fighting himself for his soul. Although my life had been far from perfect, I’d always been surrounded by love and light. Overcoming the evil temptations came relatively easily to me. But Tristan had known only the darkness for hundreds of years. And now he’d been separated from the Amadis, not receiving that regular dose of good power for so long. He’d been unstable when he came back, and last night could have only made it worse. But I knew he wanted to be good. If he were in that strange meadow, part of him would still be fighting. The part that needed me.
“I can’t hold him much longer,” Owen said, his voice strained with effort. “We need help.”
“When you lift the shield, there will be Daemoni, too,” Mom warned. “They’ll hear him.”
“I know,” Owen said. “Protectors are waiting to get in, though. We just have to hope there’ll be enough.”
While they debated this, I took a few timid steps toward Tristan. My heart picked up speed as a part of me feared for my life. His power rolled off in waves from his tensed body, dark energy crashing over me like a hot, violent sea. And his eyes absolutely terrified me.
But I knew my Tristan was in there. He had to be. And I had to bring him out. So I gathered my courage and held up the wall in my mind while reaching out to him with my mental cloud. I focused intensely on his mind, saying what had always worked before.
Tristan, it’s me, baby. I love you. I trust you.
He struggled wildly. The refrigerator slammed against the walls, the drywall cracking and big chunks crumbling to the ground. The floor quaked, and the kitchen cabinets shook. Their contents rattled and crashed. A cabinet door swung open, popping the bottom hinge, and the door continued swinging, the corner of it crashing into Tristan’s temple. He took no notice of it.
“You disgust me. I’ve been waiting a long time to tear your throat out and watch you die.” The thoughts didn’t sound like his voice at all, but as a wretched, throaty growl. A devilish sound. My mind filled with images as seen through his eyes—him attacking me, snapping and crushing my bones with his power, my body going limp as his teeth dug into my throat.
Tristan, stop it. You’re not going to kill me. You love me!
The muscles in his face and neck strained, purple veins popping out, the scars severely red. He snarled ferociously, a wild beast threatening its prey.
I thought he just needed to feel my touch, to be reminded of me and our love. I reached my hand out, and it trembled fiercely. I held it in midair for just a second, terror almost forcing it back to my side. I trusted my senses he was still in there, that he wasn’t Daemoni, but he was much more powerful than I’d ever realized and even the slightest movement could possibly kill me. I’m stronger now. Yes, the Ang’dora made me less fragile, and I had my own powers. I doubted they were anything close to his, but I had to do something for him. So I moved my hand closer and just barely touched his arm with my fingertips.
Electricity zapped between us. It broke the magic. A lion-like roar rattled my bones as he lunged at me.
And then I somehow stood in the family room.
I must have flashed because Tristan hadn’t touched me and I’d felt nothing push me there. I stood in the kitchen in front of him, and then I didn’t. The suddenness disoriented me, and I lost my balance, falling into the chair.
Tristan bowled through the kitchen island, smashing through the wood and granite as if they were hollow props. He stood where the island once had, the fire-eyes on me, his muscles twitching and jerking. Mom and Owen stood in fighting stances, their hands held out toward Tristan. They had some kind of power on him. I didn’t know what, but knew it couldn’t be good.
“Stop it,” I yelled, jumping to my feet. “You’re hurting him!”
But Tristan’s face showed no pain. Only fury. He flicked his hand casually, and Mom and Owen flew backwards several feet, their powers released from him. Tristan flashed into the family room, less than five feet from me. He started to lift his hand toward me.
“I have to do it,” Owen yelled. The air in the room whooshed upward, followed by popping noises as four more people appeared. They immediately crouched, hands and wands out, focused on Tristan.
“NO!” I cried, throwing myself in front of him, my arms held out protectively. “Don’t hurt him!”
Tristan roared again. More popping outside and then cackling. Daemoni! My old sixth-sense alarms weren’t sounding. I had a feeling my new “gift” replaced that other sense. Instead, I identified the Daemoni with an instantaneous conviction. I could physically feel their dark energy nearby. The noises outside momentarily diverted everyone else’s attention. Tristan took advantage of their distraction. He snarled ferociously, and his arm suddenly snaked around my waist, pinning me to his body.
Evil! Good! Evil! Good! Again, not my sense, but a physical feeling of the powers battling within him. The pain I’d suffered as the same forces had battled inside me only hours before remained fresh in my memory. I had to help him win. I had to bring him back to us.
The protectors’ eyes flew from Tristan to me to the glass doors. The popping outside continued like popcorn in a hot pan.
“Go,” Mom commanded the others. “Outside. Owen, we need more help!”
“Already on it,” Owen yelled.
“Alexis, you can do this,” Rina thought calmly. “His heart is yours. His soul is yours. Use your Amadis power.”
Confidence filled her silent voice. Confidence that felt unworthy. I knew the truth in what she said about his heart and soul. They belonged to me. Or, at least, they had. I didn’t know what, if anything, remained. The evil energy—the Demon, the Daemoni force, whatever raged inside him—was so strong. Even if I could beat it, I couldn’t help but wonder what the evil power had already done to him . . . what would be left of him . . . if he would still be my Tristan.
The energy in him is so strong, Rina. Stronger than Sheree’s. I can’t do this. You and Mom have to.
“Use your Amadis power,” she repeated.
It’s not strong enough. I’m not risking our lives again. I can’t do it, Rina!
“Yes, you can, darling. Your power is stronger than even mine. You can do this, Alexis.”
Tristan put the debate to an end. He flexed his bicep and forearm, squeezing me tighter so I could barely breathe. One more move like that and he would crush my ribs. Maybe even snap my spine. But because he hadn’t done so already, I knew he still fought for us.
Somewhere deep inside, he resisted.
“Trust me, Alexis. I am here if you need me, but only you can reach Tristan.”
I closed my eyes, inhaled as deeply as possible, and focused on harnessing the Amadis power. I could feel it concentrating and then expanding, creating a bubble within me. Then I heaved the air I’d been holding and forced the bubble outwards from my core. A growl rumbled in my own throat as I impelled the Amadis power away from me. The bubble exploded from my body.
Electricity zapped between Tristan and me, violently separating us, and I soared into the shelving against the wall. Glass shattered around me and rained to the floor. Tristan flew to the opposite wall. He crashed onto the couch, which broke with a crack under his force. He raised his hand. His power pinned me against the wall as he stood up. I remained motionless for several moments, knowing from previous experience that his power paralyzed his victims. But I realized I wasn’t completely paralyzed. I am strong enough.
I lifted my left arm and twisted my hand at him. The power surged through my arm and out my palm—not a thin thread anymore, like yesterday, but now a thick rope pulling through my veins. Blue lightning shot out, hitting Tristan in the chest. His shirt sizzled and fell to the floor in pieces. I pulled back slightly, for some reason afraid I could actually hurt him. I made the current strong enough to hold him still as he continued to hold me with his own power.
Owen and Mom both moved to take advantage of the opportunity.
“No,” Rina said. “Alexis needs to do this.”
“Mother!” Mom gasped.
“She can do it, Sophia. She needs to do it. She is the only one who can.”
“And what if she can’t? She won’t be able to kill him.”
“Her powers are very strong already,” Rina said.
“Even if she could physically kill him, she doesn’t have it within her. She won’t bring herself to do it.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not going to kill him. We don’t kill!” I shouted, confused and astonished at what my own mother said.
“See, Mother?” Mom seethed. She turned her eyes on me. “Alexis, if it’s your life or his . . . you’ll have to kill him.”
“She will not have to,” Rina said. Her voice remained amazingly calm. “Alexis, you can do this.”
“We’ll do it if she can’t,” Owen muttered. “But it’ll take all of us.”
Pain shot through my chest as my heart squeezed. “Nobody’s killing him!”
Even while this whole debate went on, even while I held the current on Tristan, another part of my mind assessed the situation outside. The popping noises had stopped, and I heard fighting, but no one made their way up to the house. The protectors held the Daemoni back . . . at least for now. I had to keep Tristan away from them, keep him with us. Because if they had any influence on him, I might really lose him forever.
Mom was right—I could never kill him. Even if I lost him again. In fact, I thought I would just follow him this time and make everyone’s lives easier.
But what about Dorian? The Amadis?
They needed me, and I needed him. I had to fight for him. He had to still be in there.
Tristan, listen to me, baby. It’s me. Your Lexi, your wife, your soul mate. You love me. You don’t want to hurt me.
He growled and increased the pressure on me. I could barely hold the current on him.
Tristan, you don’t want to do this. I love you. I trust you. I know you’re in there, and I know you love me. Please, baby, come back to me.
My love and trust had always worked before. Mom and Rina even emphasized love when working on Sheree. But it seemed to only anger Tristan—or the monster within him. I felt his power gaining on me, pressing my flesh tighter to my bones. I started to panic and lost control of the current. It jumped, singeing a hole in the wall. The break was exactly what the monster inside Tristan needed.
He lunged at me again.
I wasn’t quick enough this time.
He coiled his arms around me as if tackling me in a football game. We flew through the air, crashing headfirst through the sliding glass doors, through the railing, and over the edge of the balcony. We landed hard on the ground below—hard enough to loosen his hold. I rolled free. We both jumped to our feet, facing each other. He let out a roaring bark and threw a flame of fire at me. I jumped out of the way and shot electricity at him.
Mom and Rina leapt from the balcony, landing to my right with the soft sound of bending grass blades. Owen followed with a harder thud, but still landed on his feet, his hands out and ready to throw magic. I noticed all this out of the corner of my eye while keeping my main focus on Tristan.
Everyone else had stopped fighting, holding each other at bay while watching Tristan and me. White noise, like static, buzzed in my head—everyone’s thoughts agitated and louder than normal with the promise of bloodshed. My wall started to crumble, and I had to make a point of keeping it up. But the attention to the wall made me realize that if I could keep it up and focus on Tristan, not on talking to him, but listening to him, I would at least know his next move.
It was a good defense. Every time he moved at me or tried to use a power, I eluded it. He lunged. I stepped to the side. He shot a fireball at my legs. I dodged it with a hop. He shot another, but higher. I dropped to my knees and leaned back, my shoulders nearly touching the ground as the flame soared over me. From my upside-down viewpoint as I looked behind me, I watched Mom extinguish the fire with a shot of water from her hand. The shock of never knowing she could do that consumed my mind, but my body moved on its own, jumping back to my feet to face Tristan. My evasions infuriated him, and his chest rumbled angrily. His thoughts filled with frustration, and we stood in a standoff.
I didn’t know what to do. Reading his mind protected me from his attacks, but it wasn’t a good offense. I didn’t want to hurt him, if that were even possible, but I had to do something to reach him—the Real Tristan imprisoned by the monster trying to kill me. I’d never fought before. I’d never even thought about fighting. This part of my life had arrived so soon and so quickly, and no one had prepared me. I didn’t even know what powers I had, how to use them or their strength.
And I fought the person I loved most in this world, the person I could not live without, my own husband, my Tristan.
No, not my Tristan. The Demon within.
Chapter 22
I had Amadis power and love, and those would have to be enough. But are they? I just didn’t know. Whatever the Daemoni had planted in Tristan proved itself powerful. He was the mightiest creature on Earth, and he couldn’t control it on his own. He needed my help. He needed my love. After everything we’d been through—everything we’d both suffered because of our love—surely it was strong enough to overcome this. Isn’t it? Tears stung my eyes with the possibility that the answer was “no.”
Owen’s words from just a couple of days ago echoed in my mind: “We always win.” Good always wins over evil, right? I’d lost my faith in that belief over seven years ago. And then Tristan came back . . . or so I thought. No, don’t think that. He is my Tristan. I just need to pull him out, help him beat the Demon.
A strong gust of wind blew through the grounds. My hair whipped around, slapping my face, and my dress thrashed at my legs. I glanced up for a split-second, the wind watering my eyes. A storm cloud formed directly over us, though the rest of the sky was the clear blue of a spring day. The cloud reminded me of our wedding, right when Tristan took his vow to the Amadis. A strange, angry storm had hovered over us then, too. Like that one, this dark cloud swirled and twisted and lightning shot across its belly. Evil brewed above us, preparing to strike at the opportune moment.
Tristan and I watched each other carefully. His muscles bulged with power, his hair blew wildly, and his eyes blazed with fire. He looked like a beautiful but enraged god of darkness. Everyone’s eyes remained transfixed on us as we moved side to side in a macabre dance. I monitored his thoughts, and a series of profani
ties flew through his mind. The monster was pissed. It couldn’t beat me. Yet. I wondered how long it would take for the monster to completely take him over. Can it take his soul? Will the gray meadow imprison him in its lifelessness? Will his soul be lost forever? What will I do then?
I snapped out of the pensiveness with the sound of a Pop!
A long-legged, white-blond female, clad in her usual leather, appeared about ten yards behind Tristan. Her red-blue eyes, almost lavender in the daylight, shifted from Tristan to me and back to him. Her lips peeled back in a wicked grin.
Damn it! Can we ever get a break?
The Daemoni cackled and cawed around us. For the first time, I noticed the white-blond, male vampire from Key West—Vanessa’s brother. To his right stood the vampire who’d threatened me in my room, the one I’d called Claudius. How can they be out right now?
“Uh-oh. Are we having a little squabble?” Vanessa sang as she sauntered over to Tristan’s side. She chuckled, the musical sound ringing in the air. “Looks like you finally came to your senses, lover.”
“Glad you could join the party,” her brother said. An Amadis protector snarled at him.
“The party’s just getting started. My Seth is finally coming back to me,” she crooned as she strutted around Tristan—too closely for my liking.
Tristan paid her no notice, but I was distracted. For a second too long. His power overtook me before I could react to the thought, and he held me in place. I could barely deliver the electric current, especially as the blond vampire bitch ranted on. She ran her hands over Tristan’s bare shoulders and arms, her eyes on me, mocking me.
“Are you going to kill her, darling? Or do you want me to do it for you?” she purred.
“C’mon, Seth, just do it,” one of the Daemoni jeered. “What are you waiting for?”
Some of the others followed with their own taunting, the last thing we needed right now. I just had to hope he ignored them as much as he ignored the snow-white bloodsucker hanging all over him. Granted he was trying to kill me, but at least I had his undivided attention.