Promise

by Kristie Cook

  "Alexis, close your eyes," Rina said. "I will show you what is happening."

  I inhaled deeply as I stared at her, trying to comprehend. She tapped her finger against her forehead.

  "I can see. I can share."

  Mom sat in one of the leather recliners and closed her eyes. I dropped into another and closed mine. A vision appeared in my head, as if I stood in the clearing in front of the house. Tristan's mere appearance wasn't enough to stop the fighting. Through others' eyes, we watched the battle. The viewpoint changed several times as Rina tapped into different minds. Sometimes I heard her voice as she gave commands to the soldiers. Sometimes we heard the terrifying thoughts of the Daemoni, then Rina would warn the Amadis what they were about to do. Sometimes she cut my visions off.

  "I am sorry, dear, but there are some things I cannot allow you to see," she said to me.

  I nodded, grateful to see any of it and not have to rely on my unruly imagination. But, as the battle heated, I didn't know if even my imagination could be worse than this. I had to fight the urge to not watch because I had to know Tristan and the others were okay.

  It felt like we stood in the middle of it all. A blue light shot across our current vision, blasting its target into bits. Another light zipped right past us. A tree split with a loud crack. A piece of the fallen tree flew through the air, taking someone down. Stefan and Owen ran around the scene, shooting unseen powers out of their hands, knocking Daemoni to the ground. Everything—powers or solid objects—sent at Owen bounced back before it hit him, as if he were protected in an invisible bubble.

  Out of our peripheral vision, we could see Solomon. Then Rina changed minds to see him better. His expression was blank, though he held a severed hand in his right palm. I gasped as I realized, seeing the stump of his left arm, that it was his own hand. He held the wrist of the detached hand against the stump and a second later, his fingers waved, then closed into a fist and opened again. Holy crap! He reattached his hand! Can we all do that? But I immediately forgot the thought as a Daemoni jumped at him. He grabbed her by the shoulders. His head dove toward her throat. And that's when I noticed his teeth. Especially his eyeteeth. Have they always been so long? So pointed? Rina instantly changed views.

  I recognized Ian, standing away from the mayhem, his dull red hair shaking around his face as he cackled at the scene. Then a round object suddenly flew at us. I flinched, expecting it to actually hit me. It landed at our feet. We looked down to see a human head rolling to a stop. My stomach jumped. Acid burnt the back of my throat.

  From another view, we watched from farther back, at the house. I heard the Amadis fighter's thoughts as he told Rina he was injured, but he could be her eyes to see the full scene. He looked down. His leg ended in bloody shreds where the knee should be. He held it in his hands, but they looked more like…claws. Then there were several popping sounds and his head snapped up. He focused on Tristan. I forced myself to watch.

  Tristan fought off several Daemoni as dog-like creatures appeared all around him. Dogs or wolves? I couldn't tell from this viewpoint. They were definitely larger than any canine I'd ever seen, a few nearly as tall as Tristan. He shot power at them. Some fell to the ground. Others soared back several yards. The creatures continuously sprang and lunged at him. At first, he could keep them off. He whacked at them with his arms. He kicked them across the meadow. He blasted them with his force. Owen shot his power at the creatures, too, trying to keep them back.

  But more popped into existence. Pop! Pop! Pop! Dozens of them.

  I gripped the chair's arms, suppressing the irrational urge to run out there and help. Not that I could do anything against these…these beasts. But I felt so useless just watching the horror.

  Daemoni and their creatures continued appearing all over the estate's lawn. They swarmed onto Tristan. Oh, no! Oh, God, no! There's too many! I cried out as a creature lunged at Tristan and grabbed onto his arm with its mouth. Its teeth dug into his skin, not letting go. Then a second one attached to his other arm. Another Daemoni jumped on his back.

  Then there was Edmund. He glanced briefly at Tristan, then strode toward us, toward the mansion. He waved his hand and several creatures followed him.

  But not enough to relieve Tristan. He fought off creatures while eyeing Edmund. His eyes narrowed and his chest lifted. He heaved a breath of exasperation.

  Then he looked right at us.

  His eyes bored into our seer's, through Rina's mind and into mine, as if he knew I could see him. And our eyes locked. Rina switched to his thoughts. His lovely voice reverberated in my head.

  "I love you, ma lykita."

  We flew through the air and tackled Edmund.

  And then we went blank.

  Rina switched back to the mind of the soldier near the house. The meadow was nearly empty. A few stragglers disappeared with pops and now everyone was gone. Including Tristan. My eyes flew open.

  "Where'd he go?" I screamed, jumping to my feet. I looked wildly around the concrete room, disoriented for a moment. Mom and Rina finally opened their eyes, too.

  "They are all gone," Rina said quietly. "I cannot find any thoughts out there. Nowhere in my range."

  "He's gone to meet Lucas, hasn't he?" I cried.

  Rina nodded.

  "Will they make it back?"

  Neither Rina nor Mom answered me this time. They stared at the floor. Tristan hadn't gone alone—every Amadis fighter out there went, too. Which meant there would be more fighting.

  I fell back into the chair and dropped my head into my hands. I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to push away the scene replaying on the backs of my eyelids. The heavy weight of it all…the bodies dropping, convulsing on the ground, some completely still, dead…pressed down on me, trying to crush me into the chair, into the floor.

  "Is this who we are?" I asked quietly. "This is what we do? Fight deadly battles?"

  This was what I waited so long to find out? That we were really no better than our enemies?

  "When we need to, yes," Rina said, taking a seat. "We try to prevent these kinds of atrocities. We prefer not to fight. We are good, Alexis. But we are the Angels' army on Earth. We must do what they need us to do. For them. For God. Just like in biblical times, just like David and the others. We must fight for what is right."

  The Angels' army…the phrase bounced around my skull. It should sound empowering, but all I could think about was the fighting. The blood and pain. The deaths. My hands pressed against my belly as I tried to draw hope from the tiny lives inside. But I only felt despair. What kind of world am I bringing them into? What kind of lives would they lead?

  Mom and Rina had been right all along. I was not ready for this. The Ang'dora would make me more like them and better able to comprehend and accept. I hoped. Right now, my feeble human mind could not relate.

  I had to focus on something that made more sense—that was more within my grasp of understanding.

  "Is this why we moved all the time?" I finally asked Mom. "I always thought it was the men. Were we being hunted and I just didn't know it?"

  Mom sighed. "No, honey. The Daemoni never bothered us until they discovered you and Tristan together."

  "Oh. So, then, why did Owen come into the picture? He was around almost a year before the Daemoni knew anything."

  Mom didn't answer at first. She pursed her lips and stared at the concrete wall for several moments. "Remember how I knew Tristan was close before you ever brought him to the store?"

  It only took a moment to understand. "Owen didn't come to protect me from the Daemoni. He came to protect me from Tristan."

  Mom nodded. "At the time, I thought you needed it."

  I chuckled darkly. "And I thought you tried to set us up."

  Mom chuckled, too. "Actually, I'll admit I thought he was a better choice for you. But I was obviously mistaken. That weekend I went away, I went to see Rina and she was still adamant the two of you belonged together. I guess I knew it all alo
ng somewhere in my heart. I didn't try as hard as I could have to convince you or Tristan to stay apart. Of course, my power wouldn't have worked anyway. It can't be used to change what's meant to be."

  "I do not know why you tried so hard to prevent it, Sophia," Rina said. "But at least it brought you to me for a personal visit, after so many years of your absence."

  "You know we stayed away for Alexis's good," Mom said. "But now it looks like we will stay close. Today will not be the end."

  "No, it will not," Rina murmured.

  Thick silence filled the small room.

  "So why didn't the Daemoni bother us all those years?" I asked Mom to keep the conversation going. I needed a distraction.

  She shrugged. "They don't fare well with me and they gave up coming near me."

  "Why?"

  "Tristan isn't the only one I brought over to the Amadis. In fact, Lucas is the only one I didn't convert, given the opportunity." Despair colored her tone. For some reason, she still grieved over him. I hadn't realized the extent of her power of persuasion—or why she had been given that gift.

  "We moved so much for many reasons," she continued. "We wouldn't have been able to stay in one place for too long anyway—people would notice I don't age. But that never became an issue. Sometimes, it was just because of who we are—like when you fell off the slide when you were in kindergarten and the cuts that should've needed stitches healed on their own, or the fleabag who tried to molest you and I nearly killed him, or the boy you sent sailing across the yard. Other times, though, you're right, it was the men."

  "I never understood that. How come you always left them?"

  "Well…normal, human men can't handle our love. I think you've experienced the results of our passion?" She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "Bruises, broken furniture…I'm surprised the whole house didn't fall down with you two."

  I couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, even in my distress.

  "You don't even have your full power or strength—you don't have a small fraction of it. Imagine what could happen to a normal man with me."

  "Oh," I said, considering the potential injuries.

  "Add that to the extreme love I feel for everyone—the same love you'll feel after the Ang'dora," she continued. "We can't help who we are. Unfortunately, sometimes the ones we love just aren't capable of handling it. I had to leave before I hurt them, emotionally or physically. It was always after they became too persistent about sex or when they proposed."

  "Wow, I had it wrong."

  She reached over and patted my hand. "Of course you did. I could never tell you what was really going on. I'm just happy you have a relationship where you never have to worry about it."

  That was the wrong thing to say. It reminded me my love was gone…and I didn't know when I would see him again. Tears streamed down my cheeks as we sat in silence for what felt like hours.

  "Where are they?" I finally asked, jumping to my feet as irritation sprang every nerve. "When will they be back? What's taking so long?"

  "Patience, darling," Rina said. "They will return when it is safe."

  I paced the small room, gripping my pendant and sliding it back-and-forth on the chain, pushing the little key with it. What may have been more hours, or possibly just minutes, passed. Then Rina suddenly stood up.

  "Owen is back. The shield is replaced."

  I bounced on the balls of my feet as she and Mom unbarred and slid back the concrete door. They grabbed me and sped up the stairs. We stopped in the foyer as soon as Owen burst through the front door. He stumbled inside, his face stark white.

  "Owen!" Mom cried with relief. He stood there stiffly, his eyes wild.

  I flew into his arms, standing on my toes to look over his shoulder for the others. I knew immediately something was dreadfully wrong. This was not laid-back Owen. His back was rigid. His face twisted in pain or grief or…horror.

  "Where's Tristan?" I asked, searching the empty space behind him, panic already rising. He didn't answer or even look at me, his arms stiff around my shoulders.

  "Where are the others?" Rina asked.

  "There were just too many," he finally said, his arms falling limply to his side. "They kept coming. Too many to fight at once. Stefan…" He couldn't finish, a mix of defeat and grief on his face.

  "No!" Rina and Mom gasped. He nodded.

  "Sheffie?" I whispered, tears springing to my eyes.

  "He's…dead," Owen confirmed darkly. Oh, no! God, no!

  "Tristan?" I cried. He didn't answer.

  "We never made it to the meeting place. They mobbed us. Only three of us got away," Owen said bleakly. "Solomon, me and…"

  I didn't hear the last person, already screaming the name I needed to hear. I grabbed his shirt and shook him. "Where is he? Where is Tristan?"

  He just shook his head, not looking at me, not saying anything.

  "WHERE IS HE, DAMN IT?!" I yelled, panic and hysteria gripping my heart.

  "I-I d-don't know," he finally whispered. "There were dozens on him. I think he's…"

  His voice trailed off.

  And the earth stood still. It stopped spinning on its axis and just hung in dead space as I stared at Owen and tried to comprehend what he was saying. The meaning was right there, stuck in midair between Owen and me, but my mind wouldn't, couldn't, refused to grasp it. Then the realization crashed down on me like a semi-load of concrete blocks. And the world lurched into motion again, spinning way too fast, swirling around me in dizzying blurs.

  "NO!" I cried. My chest caved in and my stomach heaved like it had been punched, sending my heart into my throat. I choked on it, sobbing. "NO! NO! NO!"

  I beat Owen with my fists. Mom pulled me off, into her arms.

  "NO!" I screamed again as loud as I could and it echoed around the two-story foyer. "Oh, God, no! Not my Tristan…"

  I collapsed to the floor and cried, refusing to believe it. I pounded the stone floor until my fists bled. I felt like I could die. Like my heart had been crushed into pulp and twisted out of my chest. I wanted to die. Babies or no babies, I wanted to be with my sweet Tristan. I could not do this without him.

  Mom tried to comfort me. I pushed her off.

  "He can't die!" I yelled at her. "He's supposed to be invincible. Immortal!"

  "Honey," she said softly, "there is only one way to immortality and it is not here on Earth."

  "What do you feel?" I cried. She didn't answer. "Rina?"

  Rina shook her head, tears in her eyes.

  "Oh, God, noooo…" I sobbed into the floor.

  Tristan's beautiful face swam in front of my eyes, his sublime smile, his love-filled, hazel eyes looking into mine, the green shining and the gold flecks sparkling. I heard his lovely voice murmur, "I love you, ma lykita," as if his lips were right against my ear. And my heart shattered into pieces, knowing I couldn't reach out and touch him although he felt so close. So close. Right here, with me.

  "He's not dead," I cried into the floor. "He'll come back."

  And I had to believe that because there was just no other option. I had to hold onto it. He promised.

  And when he didn't come, my life fell into a black pit of nothingness.

  Epilogue

  8 Months Later

  "CHOO-CHOO-CHOO" I panted through clenched teeth, keeping a train's rhythm, just as Mom instructed.

  "Okay, honey," she said from between my legs. "Get ready…almost…again! PUSH!"

  She didn't have to tell me. I could feel the pressure on my lower belly, squeezing inside, and all I wanted to do was push. I heaved down, pushing with every bit of strength I had left.

  "I see the head. Almost there."

  Yeah, no kidding. I felt the head, like a basketball wedged halfway inside me, ripping me apart. I'd been in labor for nearly two days. I'd been pushing for what seemed like hours. But I now felt too weak to keep going. The edges of my vision faltered. Pinpricks of light popped in front of my eyes.

  "You need
to push harder than that, hon." Her voice faded with each word.

  "Alexis?" Rina sounded so far away, she must have been in another world.

  Mom said something. It sounded like something about my blood pressure. But I couldn't hear her anymore. I couldn't see anything but grays. And then blackness.

  ***

  When I came to, Mom was tucking a tiny bundle into the crook of my arm and turned it toward my breast.

  "Your son, honey," she said, aligning his mouth with my nipple. His eyes fluttered and he briefly looked up at me, the steel-blue of a newborn. The few strands of his hair were still wet and plastered to the side of his head. He latched on, his lips moving slowly, awkwardly as he drank for the first time.

  "Dorian Stefan," I whispered through a groggy daze, tears brimming over and sliding down my face. One dropped onto his cheek. I gently wiped my finger across it, feeling the downy softness of his face. I fell right to sleep as he suckled.

  I awoke screaming. It was typical for me. The same nightmare every night ended my dreams with terror. But this time was different. Not the dreams. Just the panic gripping me.

  "My babies! Where are my babies?" I shrieked.

  "Rina's changing Dorian," Mom said from a chair beside my bed. She sounded tired and…something else.

  I calmed with the realization I was in my own bedroom. Well, it'd been my bedroom here at the safe house for eight months. It wouldn't be much longer. We'd have to move, as soon as the babies and I were strong enough. Which meant I wouldn't be able to stare out the window at the last place I saw Tristan, as I'd been doing since that dreadful day, waiting for his return. The last time I saw him was, of course, a horrendous memory…but my last memory of him, nonetheless.