Dangerous Devotion

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by Kristie Cook




  Dangerous Devotion

  Soul Savers, Book Three

  Kristie Cook

  Ang’dora Productions, LLC

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  Soul Savers, Book three

  DANGEROUS DEVOTION

  By Kristie Cook

  Ang’dora Productions, LLC

  Punta Gorda, Florida

  About This Book

  Now that she’s received her extraordinary powers, Alexis has much to learn about her new life, her new world, and the people in it—vampires, mages, shifters, and more. Nothing is what it seems on the surface, including the matriarch’s council members, who are hardly different than their human counterparts—seedy, power-hungry, greedy politicians. Alexis’s first assignment is to use her gifts to identify the traitor who lurks among the council. Not an easy task when she learns that everybody’s hiding secrets, including information about a girl who just might be her daughter.

  When the enemy attacks, Alexis and her family are forced to run, so they set out to find the girl who might offer hope for the future. But the search for answers leads only to the revelation of more betrayals by those closest to Alexis. Her devotion is put to the test—devotion to her husband, to her family, to her people, and to her beliefs—leaving her to question whom she's fighting for and why she should even bother. But if she won't fight . . . who will?

  Books By Kristie Cook

  Soul Savers

  A Demon’s Promise

  An Angel’s Purpose

  Dangerous Devotion

  Dark Power

  Sacred Wrath

  Unholy Torment

  Fractured Faith

  Genesis: A Soul Savers Novella

  Awakened Angel: A Soul Savers Novella

  * * *

  Supernatural Chronicles: The Wolves (A Soul Savers Tie-In Novella)

  * * *

  Wonder: A Soul Savers Collection of Holiday Short Stories & Recipes

  The Book of Phoenix

  The Space Between

  The Space Beyond

  The Space Within

  Copyright © 2012, 2015 by Kristie Cook

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  Published by

  Ang’dora Productions, LLC

  Mailing Address:

  24123 Peachland Blvd C4

  Port Charlotte, FL 33954

  Ang’dora Productions and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Ang’dora Productions, LLC

  * * *

  Cover design by Regina Wamba at MaeIDesign.com

  Print interior by Nadège Richards at Inkstain IBD

  * * *

  Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the owner of this book.

  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  First Edition February 2012

  Updated November 2015

  ISBN: 978-0-9846990-4-9

  For my parents, Valerie, and Dan and Keena

  Thank You

  Chapter 1

  I stood in the sitting room of the ancient Amadis mansion, stared at the giant tapestry spanning the entire stone wall, and wondered how I could change the future it told for my son. A long vine, embroidered with gold and green thread and with leaves on each side, wound and climbed its way across and up the wall-hanging, a golden name on each leaf. These were the names of my ancestors. The Amadis Family Vine only showed the mothers and their children, the fathers deemed irrelevant in our matriarchal society—most had died young, long before their widows knew their real heritage.

  Silvery-green thread outlined most of the leaves—the ones with female names, the daughters—but some were brown and separated from the vine. The names on the brown leaves were all male, a twin to a green-leafed sister, and each had an asterisk next to it. A seemingly insignificant little symbol ominously marking the fate of each boy. The meaning looked disproportionately large on this huge hanging:

  *Converted to the Daemoni.

  A much smaller rendition of the image spread across the inside cover of the leather-bound book I hugged to my chest: The History and Life of Alexis Katerina Ames Knight. My history. The book explained that not only Angel blood coursed through my veins, but so did the blood of vampires, were-animals, and mages. I was the ultimate hybrid. The book, which I’d already devoured beginning to end, was full of such fascinating details.

  I stared at the enormous vine in the wall-hanging, however, because it better reflected the magnitude of my feelings than the tiny one in the book. At the top of the Family Vine, right above my leaf, scripted in gold like all the others, was the name Dorian, my son. His leaf, unaccompanied by a female twin, an anomaly in itself, was brown, though not separated from the vine. Yet, anyway.

  I had no idea what I would do to keep it that way. I was too new to this Amadis life. But I vowed to do something. I could not let my son become part of the Daemoni, our innate enemies, servants to Satan himself.

  “Ma lykita,” murmured a smooth, sexy voice from the doorway, “staring at it doesn’t change anything.”

  Tristan stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, sending electric currents under my skin.

  “I know,” I said with a sigh. “I’m just thinking about what we can do that will change it.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “We’ll figure something out. Fortunately, we have a few years.”

  “According to the book and history, yes. But if he’s anything like me or you, unique in so many ways, he could go early.”

  “But not tonight or tomorrow or anytime soon. Right now, we have more pressing matters to worry about.”

  “More pressing than our son’s life?”

  Tristan sighed. “Nothing is more important than Dorian’s life. But there’s a difference between important and urgent, and for now, the issue isn’t urgent. We have time. But tomorrow morning—in a few hours—we have a council meeting, and I expect it’ll be intense. It’s late and you have to be tired.”

  My body did feel heavy with exhaustion, not surprising with the combination of jet lag and a lack of sleep. Excitement to learn about my heritage combined with being overwhelmed by my new mind-reading ability prevented me from sleeping on the flights from Miami to Athens. I’d been awake for nearly forty-eight hours, which included fighting a psycho vampire intent on killing me. I didn’t think I could shut my mind down, though. Between all the information I just learned about my history and my genetic make-up and figuring out what to do about Dorian, there was too much to think about.

  “How am I supposed to sleep?”

  “I put Dorian to bed. Let me take you. You might be surprised once you let yourself relax. And, if you can’t relax,” he kissed my ear, giving me goose bumps, “I can help with that, too.”

  “That’s stimulating, not relaxing,” I said, my body already trembling for his touch.

  “Hmm . . . good. After all, we do have that other matter and the council will want to know we’re working on it.” He nuzzled his face int
o my hair, pressing his lips against my neck. As usual, my body immediately responded. I couldn’t help it—he’d always been irresistible to me.

  “We do need to keep trying,” I conceded with a smile. “And it has been a while.”

  “It’s been way too long.” He took my hand and led me up the stone stairs, lit by torches affixed to the stone walls.

  Two days certainly felt like a long time, for us, anyway. We’d never before gone more than twenty-four hours without making love—if you didn’t count the seven-and-a-half years while he was held captive by the Daemoni. Our eight-year anniversary was less than four months away, but we were still newlyweds in a very real sense, having had a total of three weeks together as husband and wife.

  We also had a mission to accomplish: we needed a daughter for the survival of the Amadis—my family, our society. And if the Amadis didn’t survive, neither would humanity. It would be lost to the Daemoni.

  “Can’t we flash to our suite?” I asked as we continued up the stairs to the third floor.

  “If you flash everywhere, you’ll get lazy, and I won’t have a lazy wife,” Tristan teased. “More importantly, you don’t want to create bad habits. We’ll have to mainstream soon, and you can’t be flashing all the time around the Normans.”

  “I know. But I’m not being lazy.” I slid my hand down his back and over the perfect roundness of his ass and gave it a squeeze. I finished the thought telepathically. I’m just horny.

  “Ah. Why didn’t you say so?” He picked up the pace, and we practically flew through the long hall.

  As we entered our wing, I slowed. A door on the left led to Mom’s suite, and I sensed she was still awake, probably reading. I stopped at the door on the right—Dorian’s room.

  “I stayed until he was sound asleep,” Tristan whispered, but I cracked open the door anyway, needing to see him. A little-boy snore rattled in the darkness, and his dream appeared in my head—he was swimming with his dad and happily fighting sharks. I could only imagine the embellishments Tristan had added to Dorian’s favorite bedtime story. With a smile, I closed the door.

  We entered the front room of our suite at the end of the hall, and once we were alone, I was instantly in his powerful arms, locked into a kiss.

  “Not in here,” I reminded him, remembering Mom’s warning of the antique furniture in the front sitting room.

  We made our way to the bedroom, which was specifically designed for our kind, completely bare except for a large, stone platform with a two-foot thick pad and lots of pillows—the bed. A stone pillar stood at each corner and blue gossamer hung in curtains between the posts. The bedding was either easily reparable or replaceable—a necessity considering our kind tended to destroy things in moments of passion.

  Tristan lifted me with one arm and carried me to the bed, his satiny lips never leaving my tingling skin. Making love with him had always been intense, but since the Ang’dora, my heightened senses made it so much more sensual and our powers made it so much more fun. With expert skills, Tristan quickly took me over the edge. The loss of control crumbled the mental wall I so carefully held up to block out others’ thoughts . . . and to protect my own.

  All at once, my feelings flowed out as the mental images flooded in. Thankfully, Dorian still dreamt of sharks, but Mom stiffened in her reading chair then shook her head, thinking, “Alexis!” Solomon and Rina, in their own bed, exchanged knowing looks. Owen felt surprised and confused and . . . excited? The sheet over his lap began to rise. Oh, shit!

  My mental wall flew up, feeling more solid than ever, in fact, solid as steel. I could almost hear a metallic clang as it slammed into place, like the thick, heavy door of a vault. Everyone’s thoughts disappeared. Mine were my own again. I panted, my body as rigid as the steel wall in my head, as I still clung to Tristan, who was pressed against the ceiling. I forced myself to relax and let go, fell to the bed, and lay there on my back.

  “Oh, shit?” Tristan said as he joined me on the bed, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. “That’s a new one. I think I prefer ‘Don’t stop’ or ‘Right there’ or even ‘Love you, baby’ to ‘Oh, shit.’”

  “Did I say it out loud?” I asked hopefully.

  “Mmm . . . no.”

  I groaned, automatically reaching for the necklace that no longer hung around my neck. Playing with the ruby pendant Tristan made for me had been a nervous habit for years, but now Vanessa the evil vampire bitch had it.

  Tristan rolled onto his side, facing me. He took my hand from my neck and kissed my palm. “What’s wrong? I thought that was pretty great myself.”

  “Of course it was.” I brushed his hair, still long and darker than usual, away from his face, to see the gold in his hazel eyes sparkling brightly with my affirmation. I dropped my hand with a sigh. “And that’s the problem.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a problem?”

  I threw my arms across my face, trying to hide. “Everyone in the mansion heard me!”

  He chuckled. “Their hearing isn’t that good, especially through stone walls.”

  “That’s not what I mean. You heard me, right? In your head?”

  “Ah,” he said with understanding. And then he laughed.

  “Tristan, this is so not funny! I’m . . . mortified.”

  He kept laughing, though. I dropped my arms from my face and stared at him. I wanted to punch him. He took in my glare and, a smart man, silenced his guffaws.

  “Lexi, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. They all expect it. In fact, they want us to do it. They want a daughter, too.”

  “But you know how I can make you feel what I’m feeling through my thoughts? I just did that with them!”

  “Then I’m sure they enjoyed it.” He flashed my favorite smile, then pulled me into his arms. “I bet Rina and Solomon are having their own fun now, Sophia won’t care, and Owen . . . well, at least he’ll have good dreams.”

  I didn’t know about anyone else, but I didn’t sleep long enough to dream. Although exhausted, I tossed and turned throughout the night, my mind unable to turn off. The words of my history book churned in my head, particularly those pointing to the fact we would lose Dorian. Every male of the direct Amadis bloodline went to the Daemoni. Every. Single. One. Since the beginning, when Jordan, the first male twin purposefully sought them out and eventually became leader of their army.

  Obsessed with the idea of gaining immortality and any other powers he could have, he and a witch created Jordan’s Juice. The powerful potion infused the best qualities of vampires, were-animals, and mages—the magical race encompassing witches and wizards, the more powerful warlocks, and the strongest of them all, sorcerers—into my ancestors’ DNA. For the girls, the Ang’dora brought into full effect the creatures’ endowments, as well as powers given by the Angels.

  The boys, however, were different. And ever since, all of the boys followed Jordan’s path to the Daemoni. With Tristan born and raised by them and my own sperm donor one-hundred-percent evil, Dorian had a lot more Daemoni blood running through his veins than he did Amadis. Everything told me he was doomed—nothing in the book provided any kind of escape clause or even the mention of one—but I couldn’t believe it. I rolled over again. There has to be something we can do.

  The next morning, I procrastinated in our suite as long as I could, not wanting to face everyone. If I had any chance of talking to Rina, my grandmother and the only other telepath to exist in many centuries, I would have been the first one downstairs, asking her to teach me better control. But with the council meeting, I knew she wouldn’t be able to help much today.

  “Alexis, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Tristan said. “Can we please go eat breakfast? This meeting could last all day.”

  I leaned against the doorway to a small balcony wrapped with wrought iron, a white sheer curtain puffing around me in the spring breeze. The hem of my dated sundress—one of the few items of clothing I owned—fluttered against my thighs. Our
suite was on the third floor of the mansion and the mansion on a hill, so I could just barely see the blue-and-white-capped Aegean Sea beyond the ancient cypress treetops.

  “Go on and eat. You don’t have to wait for me,” I said without moving.

  He placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him. The wide ring of emerald green in his eyes shone brightly, the gold sparkles surrounding the pupils glinting. His skin almost seemed to glow, as it had on our honeymoon, the morning after our first time. He was happy. This place was good for him. He’d been to hell and back, and he needed the Amadis power—you could almost feel the energy pulsing from the island itself—to strengthen his goodness.

  “I see what you’re doing,” he said with the devastating smile that made my heart flip. “You have to face them some time. Do you really want to do it by yourself, or would you like me next to you?”

  “Of course I’d like you next to me. Always. But . . .” I hesitated.

  “But what?”

  I dropped my head, staring at the floor. “But you think this is funny. I can already hear the jokes.”

  “Hmm . . . yeah, I’m not the least bit ashamed of what I can do to you.” He lifted my chin with his fingers, brushing his thumb across my lower lip. Then his hand trailed down my neck, between my breasts, along my stomach . . . and lower. I shuddered. He smiled proudly. “So I guess I’ll go down by myself, and we can all have our laughs without you.”

  He kissed me and winked, then turned and walked out the door. I stared after him in a daze, and when the fog cleared, I hurried after him.

 

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