Devotion

by Kristie Cook

  I nodded, though my stomach felt as though flopping goldfish filled it. I suddenly wanted to flash back to the island and hide out with Dorian tucked safely between us. But then I imagined his face among the dead in the Amadis village or the nearby Norman town, and my heart broke for the mothers of the children who'd died. We couldn't let that happen again. Not because of us. At least if we were away from the island, the Daemoni could enjoy a game of cat-and-mouse with us, rather than terrorizing innocents.

  "Please, please, please keep Dorian safe, Owen," I begged. "Your parents, Jelani, and Chandra are all on his side, even think he could lead some day. Use them if you have to. I'm counting on you."

  "Don't worry. I'll do anything to keep you from going back to the way you were. Besides, I'd never survive the wrath of both you and Tristan."

  "Use your magic if necessary," I said. "I don't care who's around. Protect him, Owen. That's an order!"

  He saluted me. "Ready? About ten seconds."

  Tristan took my hand, and we both stood in the center of the boat as it flew through the shield. We waited just long enough to be sure some of the Daemoni saw him and me, then Tristan said, "Now!"

  A blue streak of some kind of magic sailed past my ear right when I flashed.

  Chapter 11

  A string of profanities flew out of my mouth when we appeared at the Athens airport, right in front of a mirror in a bathroom.

  "How could you let me leave in this?" I hissed at Tristan as he checked the stalls to make sure we were alone.

  He'd brought us to this particular bathroom because it was only used by employees, so it was often empty. And now I had to sneak out of it dressed as a gladiator-slut from the 1300s–I still wore the traditional Amadis dress. We could only flash with what could fit in Tristan's pockets–passports, a cell phone and money–so I couldn't change.

  "Thought you were keeping it on for a reason," Tristan said with a shrug. "You could get your way with any warm-blooded male wearing that. Although … you could probably do the same wearing sweats and a T."

  I rolled my eyes. "This is so not cool. I need normal clothes. At least you look normal!"

  He was also still dressed for the ceremony-that-never-happened. Though I wished our escape from that mortifying event wasn't because of these more terrifying circumstances, the timing couldn't have been more in my favor. Of course, here I was in this scanty dress about to be seen by a lot more people than would fit on the Amadis Island. And they'd be staring more because they wouldn't be bowing their heads. Who wears a gladiator costume on an airplane?

  Tristan sighed. "Stay here. I'll go find something. Lock the door behind me and be ready for anything."

  I nodded and held my hands up, palms out, ready to fire electric bolts and move objects. "Thank you."

  Tristan wasn't gone five seconds when musical laughter rang somewhere nearby. I froze. Vanessa. I bent my knees, kept my hands in position, and waited for her appearance, my heart pounding against my chest. If she was alone, I could beat her, but I might have to kill her, and Amadis weren't supposed to kill if there was hope for the soul … unless it was our lives or theirs. And between Vanessa and me, it would always be to the death. Even if she knew she couldn't beat me, she'd die trying. Only Tristan could scare her away, and I didn't know how long he'd be.

  I wondered how she found us. It'd been three months since she'd ingested my blood, so she had to have burned through it already, severing our connection. I dissolved my wall and felt for her mind signature. Two signatures came at me–two females, both Norman. I relaxed and blew out a breath of relief, and then the door rattled in its jam, making me jump. The two women simply needed to use the bathroom. Crap. I couldn't open it for them, as much as I wanted to.

  "We have to get out of here."

  I jumped again at the sound in my ear, though I knew the lovely voice better than anyone's. Tristan stood next to me, empty-handed. The two women gave up and left–or heard the male voice and went for security.

  "Too many Daemoni here," Tristan said. "They prepared for us to try to fly out of here."

  "But surely they wouldn't attack in the middle of a busy international airport?"

  "They don't usually attack Norman towns or our villages, either. Come on, I'll lead." He held his hand out and I took it, needing the touch to follow his flash.

  We flashed our way to the Skopje Airport in Macedonia, roughly one hundred miles at a time, pressing the distance limits of our flashing abilities. This time, before letting Tristan leave the hidden area he had brought us to, I probed outwards, carefully but quickly roaming through the mind signatures, searching for danger. When I gave him the all-clear, Tristan disappeared again, still on the hunt for clothes. He returned with a white, wool sweater. I raised my eyebrows. There was nothing wrong with the sweater–I just hoped to change into jeans, too.

  "It's all I could find. It's a tiny airport, and they don't have boutiques, only a couple of duty-free and souvenir shops. Unless, you want me to raid someone's luggage?"

  I sighed. "No, we're not stealing someone else's clothes."

  Since I wasn't wearing a bra under the leather bodice, I kept it on and pulled the sweater over my head. At least the white didn't clash with the lavender skirt. And at least I didn't feel as though I wore smexy lingerie in public.

  Three flights, two days and nearly five thousand dollars later, we arrived in Sydney, Australia, all as a show for whoever might have been following us … friend or foe. Because I'd said we were going to Australia instead of the States, Tristan thought we should actually go and see who, if anyone, pursued us before we rejoined with our son and headed for our real destination.

  So far, we'd only detected Daemoni, nothing more–and they didn't take the chance of attacking with all the Normans around. I didn't have the same problem of listening to their thoughts as I did with Normans or Amadis. At least, not ethical issues of invading their privacy. On the other hand, their thoughts disgusted and terrified me. By listening, though, I learned a lot, such as Lucas, my sperm donor, had ordered them to take us alive, with as little Norman attention as possible. But, of course, Daemoni didn't always follow orders.

  Julia, the traitor and any other Amadis against us didn't send anyone in pursuit. Apparently, they really did just want us off the island. I was sure, though, it was more than because they were concerned for everyone's safety. They had a plan.

  We spent the night in a busy hotel in Sydney and checked in with Owen. I'd been worrying about him like crazy, feeling guilty for abandoning him on the boat in the middle of Daemoni fire. He'd held his own, though, and left the Amadis Island with Dorian the day after we did. He couldn't tell us where they were, in case of eavesdroppers, but Tristan's plan remained on track. We'd rendezvous in Kuckaroo, an Amadis village in the Outback, in a couple of days. We were able to talk to Dorian briefly, and he asked several times when he would see us again. Of course he was scared of losing us. He'd lived nearly seven years without his father and now was ripped apart from him again. I lied through my teeth and told him everything would be okay, and we would see him soon.

  I sorely missed my mom, too, but we couldn't take the risk of contacting her. I wasn't sure if we could trust her right now. I didn't think she was in on Rina's secret, but she'd made it clear she believed Rina over me.

  The sting from Rina's betrayal bit again as I stared out the hotel window at the lights of Sydney's nightscape, my turn to be on watch while Tristan slept. Tonight was the first time we'd really slowed down since leaving the Amadis Island, and the constant action had kept my mind off of what had happened, focused instead on what lay ahead. Downtime meant thinking time, and tears burned my eyes as I wondered how Rina could do this to me. I'd always had so much respect for her and, though slightly frightened of her at first, came to love her dearly. She always believed in me, even when I was young and (nearly) a Norman. She was this powerful matriarch who admired me, loved me … and betrayed me. She even lied about the other person who'd been
in the room with her and Julia. I thought she protected love, but my mistake was now painfully obvious. Julia and Mom were wrong. Rina protected the Amadis first, family and love second.

  I'd actually been mistaken about the Amadis in general. Mom, Tristan, Owen … all of them emphasized over and over that the Amadis were good. Over the years, I'd created this high expectation of them–the society and the council, expecting the council to be almost like Angels. But they were nothing but typical, slimy politicians. They might fight for good against evil, but they weren't above fighting each other out of greed–greed for money, power, or whatever it was that motivated them.

  I woke Tristan with kisses, wanting to finally make love to him, to take me to another, blissful place away from my reality. After months of holding back, I was so ready. I didn't care who heard me when my wall crashed–the hotel guests and employees were all Norman strangers who'd never know what hit them. The inevitable destruction of the room was a concern … but a minor one at this point. We'd just have to leave money to cover the damages.

  He awoke immediately and responsively, his luscious lips kissing me back. The gold in his eyes sparkled with anticipation, the green shining beautifully as he looked into my eyes. Once again, I couldn't believe how breathtaking he was and how lucky I was to be with him. His strong arms enveloped me and held me against his hard body, making me feel safe and loved … and desperate for him. But apparently the stress and exhaustion of the last several days was more than I'd realized–some time before I was even naked, I crashed.

  At least in my dream we made love. We were in our beach house in the Florida Keys, destroying the Caribbean room once again, our bed in shambles, the rest of the furniture in pieces. I moaned with pleasure, so close to euphoria … and then that musical voice chimed in: "Sweet dreams, little bitch."

  I bolted upright in the hotel bed, my eyes darting around wildly and my heart pounding in my chest.

  "Sorry to wake you from such a hot dream, but we need to go," Tristan said.

  "Vanessa," I replied. The musical voice had been real and close by.

  BANG!

  The door burst open, bounced off the wall and slammed back in the white-blonde's exquisite face. Her lightning-quick reflexes caught it just in time, the metal door molding to the shape of her arm. Tristan took my hand as she threw it open again and, after catching a glimpse of Vanessa and her brother Victor flying into the hotel room, we flashed.

  They came close enough. We appeared on a deserted beach, and Vanessa and Victor appeared right after us, catching our flash trails. They were stupid to think they alone could defeat us–they couldn't beat Tristan even without my help–but Vanessa's pursuit was always based on emotions, not on the obvious facts. And it wasn't Tristan she wanted to beat. She only fought him because he protected me. He shot fireballs at her, and I shot an electric bolt at Victor, singeing a hole through his shirt and into his chest, turning his white skin purple.

  "Now!" Tristan said, and we flashed again, now somewhere inland and desert-like. The sickeningly sweet smell of burning vampire flesh still filled my nose.

  "Son of a witch!"

  Vanessa and Victor followed us once again, immediately lunging forward when they appeared. Vanessa's hand grasped my right wrist like a steel vise. I shot a constant flow of electricity at her, the current traveling through her arm and back into me, then into Tristan, who still had a grip on my upper-right arm so I could follow his flash. Victor, the idiot, wrapped his arms around his sister, trying to pull her off me. The electric current charged violently through all of us.

  Rather than electrocuting me, though, it boosted my power. Tristan could take it. Vanessa and Victor could not. Their bodies convulsed, and purple tendrils of smoke rose from their skin. They knew what would happen from the last time I nearly smoked the vampire bitch, and she finally released my wrist. Both of them fell to the ground, their bodies still writhing. Tristan and I used our powers together to send them flying back twenty yards, too far to follow our trails.

  "Again," Tristan said, and I followed him to a new place, more remote than the previous one.

  We stood back-to-back, our knees bent in fighting stance, palms held out. My heart thrummed erratically as adrenaline and lingering electricity shot through my veins. Hundreds of beats thundered in my chest as we waited … and waited. When the two vampires didn't appear, the air imprisoned in my lungs finally released with a whoosh. I leaned forward with my hands on my knees, panting, trying to slow everything down to a normal rhythm.

  "That was … fun," Tristan said, swinging around to face me. I looked up at him and lifted an eyebrow. A wide grin filled his face. He meant it. "You weren't really scared of those two, were you? They're not a real threat."

  "She wants to kill me. That's a real threat in my book."

  "She missed her opportunity, ma lykita. You're too strong for her now. I think you could have fried all of us and still be left standing." He squatted in front of me and lifted my chin with his thumb to look into my eyes. His sandy-brown hair still crackled with a trace of electricity. "Just make sure I'm there when you fight her. I've been looking forward to watching that for a long time."

  I rolled my eyes. I wasn't sure if he wanted to see me beat Vanessa or just watch two women fighting … especially because it was over him. Well, I was sure it was both, actually. He wanted me to beat her, but he wouldn't mind a show of it.

  My heartbeat and breathing returned to normal, I finally stood up straight and caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. I spun, instinctively holding my palm out. A kangaroo stood a hundred yards in the distance.

  "Oh!" Without a thought, I sprinted after it.

  "Alexis, NO!" Tristan shouted but I ignored him, wanting to see it up close.

  The kangaroo sprang away from me, but I was too fast for it. I was nearly close enough to touch it when it spun on me, leaned back on its tail and lifted its powerful legs. Its huge feet slammed into my face. I landed hard on my back and the breath flew out of me. OW! I panicked. Power shot out of my hand, and the kangaroo soared ten yards away before landing on its tail and feet. I lay in the dirt, dumbstruck, as it bounced away.

  "What the hell are you thinking?" Tristan asked, his voice full of amusement as he appeared in front of me.

  "Was … it … a Were?" I asked breathlessly as I struggled to sit up, mentally kicking myself for being so stupid and not checking first.

  Tristan helped me to a sitting position. "No. Only a kangaroo."

  "Really? Are they always that … mean?"

  "Yes, especially when they feel threatened. So don't do that again. You'll ruin my favorite face in the world. Look what you've done to it." He knelt down in front of me and gingerly touched my nose and cheekbones. I flinched. Of course, I couldn't look at it, but I could feel it–my nose and cheeks hurt like hell. I groaned. The blood flowing from my nose had already stopped, and I could feel the broken bones mending themselves, but I would have serious bruises for a day or two.

  Tristan lowered his mouth to my cheek and kissed across it, over my nose and to my other cheek.

  "There's no open wound. You can't heal it with your saliva," I pointed out.

  "Thought it might make you feel better, though."

  It did, actually, eliminate the pain. My skin tingled rather than throbbed.

  "My lip is cut," I whispered, and he moved his mouth to mine, his tongue running over my lips that had already healed.

  "Would you like to pick up where your dream left off?" he asked.

  I stiffened, staring at him. "What? You know what I was dreaming? Was I sharing it?"

  The idea of my dreams seeping out of my head and into someone else's never crossed my mind. How mortifying!

  He chuckled. "No. Looks like I'm right, though."

  "Are you sure? Even Vanessa said something about my dreams."

  "Hmm …could be coincidence … but your sexy little moans and movements made it obvious to me."

  I groaned. "H
ow embarrassing."

  He chuckled again and brushed his lips across mine. "I was personally enjoying it, my love. But the real thing would be better."

  I sighed. "Sorry about last night …"

  "You can make it up to me." He kissed across my cheeks again, opening his mouth, his healing powers taking away the pain and replacing it with bliss.

  "I will," I promised.

  "Right now?" he whispered against my ear, sending goose bumps across my skin.

  I glanced around at our surroundings. Not a soul around, not even any animals. But it was dry and dusty, and the thought of that dusty sand making its way into certain places was not exactly romantic or sexy.

  "Hmm … follow me." He took my hand and flashed.

  We appeared in a grassy area, surrounded by trees and the bank of a smooth pond in front of us. Its surface duplicated the trees and sky above so perfectly, it was difficult to tell where the real world ended and the reflection began.

  "Crocodiles?" I asked but I already knew the answer. The only mind signatures I sensed were birds and a couple of snakes in the distance. Like the night in the woods on the island, I jumped into Tristan's arms and crushed my mouth against his. And pain shot through my face. I gasped. "Crap."

  "Take it easy, my love." He lowered me to my feet and took off his shirt, spreading it on the ground. He kissed along my collarbone as he undressed me, then lay me down on his shirt. His lips moved against my breasts, sending electric currents downward. "You've taken care of me all this time. Now I can finally take care of you."

  I pushed my hands in his hair as his mouth caressed my breasts and his tongue flicked over the tips. He sucked, pulling my nipples erect between his teeth, making me moan and writhe. He moved his mouth along my stomach, kissing and sucking every inch. Electricity shot through my lower body as he continued moving down, his hands on my breasts, sliding along my sides and then underneath me, raising my pelvis. His tongue danced expertly against me, doing things that should be illegal, making me cry out. His mouth took me over that elusive edge and into oblivion.