Dangerous Devotion

by Kristie Cook

Tristan shook his head again. “They would have been too protective. They wouldn’t have left you. And that’s not entirely what I meant. Rina would have heard someone’s thoughts about it. Sophia would have felt the truth there was already a daughter.”

  I paced again as I considered this and stopped in front of Tristan. “But if they can block Rina’s telepathy, they might be able to block Mom’s power, too.”

  We stared at each other as we continued to consider this possibility. What if I do have a daughter? She’d been out there for seven years without me, someone else raising her. Did she know about us—her parents, her twin brother? Who took care of her? How did they treat her? Do they love her? I sniffed against the tears threatening to fall.

  Tristan took my hands and pulled me into his arms. I fell into his lap. “Don’t cry, Lexi. If it’s even true, it’s good news. But we don’t know if it’s true. His thought wasn’t that specific, right?”

  “Hers,” I corrected.

  “Hers what?”

  “Her thought. It was a female voice.”

  “Well, that narrows it down. The only female mages on the council are Minh, Galina, and Charlotte.”

  “It definitely wasn’t Charlotte.”

  “I wouldn’t expect so. Of course, I wouldn’t expect any of this. You’re sure that’s what you heard?” His hazel eyes pierced into mine as if he expected I’d suddenly give a different answer.

  “Yes. ‘Of course Alexis won’t have a daughter. We already have the girl. We just need to keep her hidden . . .’ And then the thought trailed off.”

  “Trailed off or you lost it?”

  I considered his question and realized I wasn’t exactly sure. I’d been quite upset by then, so I may not have heard the rest.

  “I don’t know.”

  “So maybe there was more . . . something that explains it better.”

  “And what could that be? It sounds pretty clear to me.”

  Tristan blew out a heavy breath of frustration. He had no answer.

  “What if she’s out there, Tristan? What if we have a daughter after all this time?”

  He squeezed me tighter against him. “Then we find her.”

  I nodded. Yes, we would certainly find her.

  Though Mom, Rina, and Solomon were among the most graceful people on the planet, my powerful hearing picked up the whispers of their footsteps coming down the hall. The meeting must have adjourned. There was a soft knock on the front door of our suite, then they all, along with Owen, entered. I quickly moved out of Tristan’s lap to sit in the middle of the bed against the pillows. Mom and Rina sat next to me, on the other side from Tristan, and Solomon and Owen stood at the end.

  Rina took my hand. “What did you hear, my darling?”

  I inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly. Then I told them.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Mom said.

  “Impossible,” Rina added. “We would know.”

  Tristan and I explained all the reasoning we’d already considered.

  “We were there for the entire birth,” Rina said. “No one else was close.”

  “You’re absolutely sure?” I asked. “Not even a brief moment, when someone could have flashed in and out?”

  “We would figure out you’d had another baby, though,” Mom said. “And it would have to be longer than a moment. Long enough for you to give birth and them to cut the cord and then flash—with someone in their arms, which only Tristan can do—without Rina or me knowing.”

  “I also had the house shielded,” Owen added. “There aren’t too many mages powerful enough to break my shields. It’d have to be a sorcerer.”

  Solomon rocked back on his heels. “We have no sorcerers, so that would mean Daemoni.”

  Everyone fell silent. I guess because I was allowed to be ignorant, I asked the question they all had to be thinking.

  “Could there be Daemoni on the council?”

  Everyone stared at me as if I were crazy. Okay, maybe we hadn’t been thinking along the same lines.

  “Of course not,” Rina finally said. “We all have senses for Daemoni.”

  “It would mean they infiltrated us over seven years ago, which is impossible,” Solomon said. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “They would have exposed themselves by now. They don’t have that kind of self-control.”

  “So if it’s not Daemoni, it must be Amadis,” I said. “And it’s not just the video. There’s a girl . . . possibly my daughter.”

  Rina’s fingers picked at something invisible on her dress. She shook her head slowly. “I do not understand why or how this would happen. The Daemoni have never succeeded in killing the youngest daughter. Why would anyone think this daughter would need more protection than usual?”

  “And why would they do it without the matriarch’s knowledge?” Solomon demanded. “If there is reason to think this daughter’s life is in more danger than usual, why wouldn’t they tell their leader?”

  Mom shifted toward me. “Honey, are you sure that’s what you heard? Are you sure that’s his exact thought?”

  “Her thought,” I said, and Tristan explained it had to have been Minh or Galina.

  Mom’s shoulders relaxed as she let out a breath she may have been holding since I first broke the news. Solomon dropped his arms to his sides. And Rina laughed. I think it was the first time I ever heard her laugh.

  “That cannot be right,” she said, a new, almost joyful tone to her voice. “Their thoughts are always completely clear to me. I know what they are thinking before they do. They have no desire to block me, even if they could. It cannot possibly be them.”

  “Charlotte is the only other female mage,” Tristan pointed out.

  Owen leaned forward and glared at us. “If you think—”

  Tristan held up his hand, shaking his head. “Of course not, Owen.”

  “Your family is like our own,” Rina said.

  “It definitely wasn’t Charlotte,” I said. “I already know her voice well enough. Is it possible for someone else to block you, Rina? A Were or a vampire?”

  She shook her head. “They do not have enough magic. Even as a full-blooded mage, they would have to be very powerful.” She took my hands into hers and beheld me with wide, brown eyes. “I think we must have a misunderstanding, Alexis. I am sorry to have put you through this.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, fearing I already knew.

  “I put too much pressure on you, darling. You must be exhausted from all of the recent events and the travel, and I understand this adjustment is overwhelming. You must not have heard everything or the thoughts must have come through distorted. Based on who it could have been and what you thought you heard . . . it is impossible.” She patted my hands. “I am sorry. I asked too much of you too soon.”

  “You don’t believe me?” I blurted, my voice rising with anger and frustration.

  “I do not believe what you think you heard.”

  “You’re calling me a liar?”

  “I am sorry. I—”

  “What the hell? Why did you ask me to listen if you won’t believe what I tell you?”

  “Alexis,” Mom said in a one-word warning.

  I bounded off the bed and spun to face them all. “I didn’t even want to listen, but you all thought this was such a great idea. There was no point to it if you won’t believe what I say!”

  “I thought I would be able to listen to you,” Rina said. “I thought I would hear what you heard. But you have erected a very strong, effective shield, blocking me from entering your mind. I must shout your name to capture your attention.”

  I inhaled a deep breath, trying to calm myself. At least I knew why she seemed to be yelling in my head all the time. “Are you sure it’s not part of the traitor’s block? Maybe she kept you out of my head, too.”

  Rina pursed her lips. “I felt it at the breakfast table. It is you, darling.”

  “Well, that’s good then. At least it means I can’t broadcast my thoughts and exp
ose our secret. So I guess you’ll just have to believe me.”

  Rina’s gaze broke away, and I knew then it didn’t matter what I said. She trusted her council members—the very people she asked me to spy on—more than she trusted me.

  “Again, I am sorry to have put you through this,” she said, rising to her feet. “We will work together to strengthen your gift and your control.”

  I blew out an exasperated breath and turned my back to her, trying not to lash out with the words that nearly choked me. I wanted to tell her how much I hated this stupid gift, how much I hated her for putting me through that, how everyone could go to hell for all I cared.

  “I don’t see the point if you won’t believe me,” I muttered instead. “It’ll be a waste of time and energy.”

  Nobody said anything at first. The only sound came from the open balcony door—birds singing in the distance and a breeze swishing the sheer curtain against the stone floor. A small hand landed on my shoulder.

  “Alexis—” Rina started.

  “Just leave me alone,” I said, shrugging her off. Her hand fell away.

  “I am sorry. I hope you will change your mind about working with me. It will not be a waste.” Her words were followed by two faint popping sounds.

  When I turned, she and Solomon were gone. Tristan and Owen stared at the wall or floor, doing everything possible not to look at me. As if I might go off on them, too, if they muttered a sigh or dared to glance my way. Mom scowled at me, her disappointment clear in her stormy eyes.

  “You don’t believe me either.” It wasn’t a question. Her expression said it all.

  “I feel the truth you heard what you did, but I believe what you heard doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

  I returned her scowl. “A convoluted way to say you don’t believe me.”

  “Alexis,” she said, “you are an Amadis daughter. You have—”

  “Really? You’re going to lecture me about responsibilities now? I did what you asked me to do, even when I didn’t want to, and for no reason. I don’t want to hear about responsibilities.” I glared at her, but she had no response. “Just go. Please. I need to be alone.”

  She pressed her lips together, then nodded before slipping out the door. Owen followed her without a word.

  As soon as they left the suite, I noticed a considerable difference in my head. It was like pulling a cotton ball out of my ear, but more like a big handful of it out of my head—my mind immediately felt lighter and more open. Although I’d had this telepathic gift for less than a week, for most of that time I’d been with only Tristan and sometimes Owen. I realized now how used to them I’d become—I could easily tune their thoughts out without having to think about it at all. When there were others nearby, that one part of my brain had to work harder to hold my mental wall up. And when there were several people or a crowd, it took immense effort, especially when under stress, such as at the council meeting.

  If I wanted a clear head, I’d have to spend the rest of my life with Tristan and Dorian and forget the rest of the world. An attractive idea at the moment.

  Tristan opened his arms to me, and I rushed into them. He held me tightly, his muscles hard underneath my body. I leaned my chin on his shoulder, and he stroked my hair as we held each other in silence.

  “They’ll come around,” he finally said. “They just need to get used to the idea of there being a traitor. It must be difficult for them to wrap their heads around it.”

  “I can see that with Owen. He has such a strong belief in the Amadis. But my mom? She’s never trusted the council, but now she’s defending them.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. I think she might already believe you. I imagine she’s trying to be more objective, though, now that she’s taking her place as second.”

  I supposed that sounded reasonable. Mom took her responsibilities seriously, especially to the Amadis. After all, she kept secrets from me my entire life because of her loyalty to the Amadis, regardless of how much she did or didn’t trust them.

  I pulled away to see Tristan’s face. “So you believe me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Because you really do or because you’re supporting your wife?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Rina asked you to listen for a reason. We already knew betrayal was a strong possibility—we just didn’t know who or how. There’s no reason for me not to believe you. I hope there’s more to it, but I trust you.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “You work with Rina, learn better control, and try listening again.”

  With a sigh, I pulled away and walked over to the balcony, noting how things changed so quickly since standing in the same place only a few hours ago.

  “So you think I’ll ‘hear’ better—differently—if I have better control. You really don’t believe me, do you?”

  Tristan came up behind me, and his arms encircled me. His breath fluttered my hair.

  “Of course I do, my love, but if you can listen again, maybe you can find out more. Something we can use to convince Rina—”

  “She’ll never believe me, Tristan. Not when she doesn’t want to hear it. And I don’t think I can stand to be in the same room with her.”

  “But if you don’t master your power, we may never know the truth. Even if Rina doesn’t want to believe you, we can find out on our own if we have more information.”

  “You mean, go searching for this girl?”

  “If she exists, definitely. If we have a daughter out there, we will find her.”

  I leaned against him, suddenly feeling exhausted, the strain of the last several days, the lack of sleep, and last night’s tossing-and-turning catching up with me. I had no energy to think about this new idea of his—a reason to work on my power. Or maybe I didn’t want to think about it, being as stubborn as Rina because I didn’t want to see her at the moment.

  “In the meantime . . .” He kissed my ear and neck.

  “We keep trying.”

  “Exactly,” he murmured.

  “But not now.”

  His lips moved against my cheek. “Why not? Dorian probably doesn’t know we’re out of the meeting yet.”

  “Honestly, because I’m so exhausted I might actually fall asleep in the middle of it.”

  He recoiled and gave me a dramatically pained face. “I can’t believe you said that. You’d really—”

  “No, probably not,” I said with a laugh. His expression didn’t change. “Okay, definitely not. I would not fall asleep in the middle of it. But I am really tired. Besides, I can’t do that again. Not after last night.”

  “Mmm . . . I’ll have you convinced by tonight,” he promised, moving his mouth along my jaw. And I thought he might be right—he could be quite persuasive. “But I guess Dorian’s been told we’re back.”

  Two seconds later, our son burst through the door.

  After we settled him down, we spent a few moments of quiet family time for the first time ever. Dorian told us, again, about the airplane trips from Atlanta, where he, Mom, and I had been living up until a week ago, to Athens, and then the boat ride to the Amadis Island. Then he updated us on all the fun things he’d been doing in the days before we arrived. Based on his stories, Rina, Mom, and the others protected the Amadis secrets—he seemed to know nothing about the magic of the island, the village or that the people around him were any different than Normans.

  The quiet time lasted about fifteen minutes. In most regards, he was a normal six, nearly seven, year old boy, and fifteen minutes was about as long as he could sit still. We steered the conversation to his birthday, less than two weeks away, but he grew too excited as he told us what he wanted—a puppy and a dog and a puppy and, oh yeah, a dog. He didn’t care what kind and bounced all over the room as he rattled off every possible color. Finally, I urged Tristan to take him out and do some father-son bonding. They deserved it. They needed it.

  As I watched them leave the suite, Dorian’s tiny hand wrapped i
n Tristan’s large one, happiness surged inside me. But, instantly feeling completely alone, I started wondering what it would be like to see the boys leaving to do their boy things and to still have a daughter here with me, to do girl things. What would we do? Paint our nails? Bake brownies? I had a feeling a daughter of ours—the so-called ultimate warrior and fierce protector—wouldn’t be interested in those girlie things. She would probably be more of a tomboy, wanting to go off with her dad and brother. Either way, I’d be happy to have my family . . . my complete family.

  I fell onto the bed, stared at the blue gossamer canopy, which someone must have repaired after last night’s escapades with Tristan that now felt like years ago, and mentally recapped the council meeting. The end had been so emotionally violent. Could Rina and Mom be right? Did I twist the thoughts, jumbling them because of my inexperience? Once again, though, the traitor’s thought came loud and clear in my head, as if I were hearing it again. No, I know what I heard. Maybe the traitor was right—Mom and Rina relied too much on their feelings and couldn’t see what was right in front of them. After all, they’d been so sure I’d been pregnant with twins, based on their feelings. They’d even had me convinced, but I obviously hadn’t been. Or had I? As I drifted off to sleep, I didn’t know what or whom to believe anymore.

  When I awoke several hours later, the late afternoon sun cast an orange glow over the cypress trees outside our window. I felt like a brand-new person, which was exactly what sleep did for us—it completely regenerated our cells. I took a bath in a marble tub large enough for a party . . . or a lot of fun for just two, which made me wonder where Tristan was.

  He and Dorian were not upstairs in our wing, so I meandered down the stone steps to the main level of the mansion. I refused to use the telepathy to find anyone and instead used regular old Norman thinking. The sitting room and the kitchen made the most sense for where they might be and the sitting room was closer. I heard someone moving about inside and headed there first.

  As soon as I entered, I regretted it. I didn’t find Tristan and Dorian. Rather, Rina stood by the coffee table, holding Tristan’s and my history books. I didn’t want to talk to her yet, but I didn’t want her to take our books, either.