by Kristie Cook
***
"Ah, dude, I missed Blossom," Owen said, eyeing the cake as soon as he, Tristan and Dorian walked through the door. I shooed Dorian back outside to clean the sand off his feet.
"Sure did, by about fifteen minutes." I retrieved more dessert plates. "I don't think you're her type, though. She seems to prefer the dark and quiet type. You know, dark hair, dark eyes … undead."
"Ew. She's a vamp-tramp?"
"A what?" I laughed.
"A vamp-tramp … someone who's not a vamp but likes to do them. It's disgusting." Owen shuddered, then he shook his head. "What a waste. Ah, well. She's too thin and too … uh … endowed for my liking, anyway. And then there's that mole on her cheek and how fast she talks and …"
I stared at him for a minute as he rattled off a few more of Blossom's "faults" and then shook my head. No wonder he was still single–Owen was incredibly picky. And half the things he listed were turn-ons for most guys. I vowed to never set him up with anyone because no one could make him happy. He was on his own.
Dorian came in and went straight to his room. He didn't mind sand on his feet but hated it in his trunks and would change before he returned for his piece of cake.
I lowered my voice, in case he didn't close his bedroom door. "Have you decided where we're going this weekend?"
"Probably Okeechobee," Tristan said. "They're having a bike rally, so lots of people to talk–"
"A Were rally?"
"The best kind, from what I've heard," Owen said.
"You realize it's going to be a full moon, right?"
"We're not staying at night," Tristan said. He smiled, his eyes glinting. "Are you afraid, ma lykita?"
"Um … maybe. Should I be?"
Owen guffawed. "For one last time, will you have some faith, Alexis? You have Tristan, the ultimate warrior, and me, the dreaded warlock. And then there's you and your electric personality. They should be the ones afraid."
I laughed. "The dreaded warlock, huh?"
He gave me a sinister look. "Don't mock me. You have no clue about my history."
If he were anyone but Owen, I might have actually been a little frightened.
"They're Amadis, anyway. They won't attack us," Tristan said, dismissing my concern. "Did you–" he twitched his fingers around his temple "–with Blossom?"
"Yes."
He eyed me when I didn't expand my answer. "And?"
I gave him a coy smile. "I'll tell you when you tell me what I want to know."
"You're not being very helpful," he grumbled.
"Ditto," I replied as Dorian entered the room, preventing any further discussion.
***
As the weekend approached, I dreamt every night about faeries, Vanessa and my pendant, but the night before Mom was to arrive, the dream changed. Vanessa taunted me with her musical laugh, her white-blond hair whipping in the wind as she stood on the edge of a cliff, dangling my necklace over the emptiness beyond. Then suddenly, in her other hand, she held a little girl, about Dorian's age, by her reddish-brown hair. The girl cried and kicked her legs over the nothingness. Vanessa spread her arms wide. She laughed again. And then she let go of them both. I had to choose. I ran for the edge, stopping myself at the lip and watching them both fall in slow motion as I actually considered my choices. My mind screamed for the girl but my heart pulled me toward the pendant. When I finally dove over the edge, I aimed for the necklace. As soon as I grasped it, the girl evaporated into a wisp of smoke.
"NO!" I gasped, waking myself up. I sat up in the bed, pulling gulps of air. How could I …?
Tristan pulled me into his arms.
"Just a dream, my love," he murmured.
"Of course. But I can't believe …" I couldn't finish. I lay down on my side, my back to him, ashamed of myself.
"You want to talk about it?" He nuzzled his face into my hair and kissed the side of my neck.
"No," I said with a sigh. The pendant was a touchy subject–not something for the middle of the night. "I just feel pulled in so many directions. I guess the stress is creeping into my dreams."
"Hmm … let me de-stress you." His mouth moved along my jaw, his lips finding mine.
As he took me far away from my stress, he murmured, "Happy Anniversary, my love."
I glanced at the clock–it was long after midnight, now July 30th–and grinned. Our eighth anniversary, but the first one together. Tomorrow will be perfect. It has to be. We deserve it. But since Mom would be in the house tomorrow night, this was our chance to celebrate alone. So we did. Oh, man, did we ever. Tristan brought me to the highest of heights several times, an orgasm for every anniversary we missed.
I hadn't slept so soundly in years, until …
"Mom! I thought we told you no jumping on the bed," Dorian reprimanded the next morning when he came into our room and found us on the floor again. "Uncle Owen's going to be so mad at you. He just fixed it!"
Tristan shook with laughter. "Mom's a bad girl. What do you think we should do?"
Dorian crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at me. "Maybe she needs a spanking."
"I think you're right," Tristan said. He raised his hand with a gleam in his eye, but Dorian grabbed it.
"No, Dad, her mom's supposed to do it. We'll tell Mimi when she gets here today."
Tristan laughed. "Yeah, you're right. Besides, we're not supposed to hit girls, right?"
"Right. Then you would have to get a spanking, too." Dorian considered Tristan for a long moment. "Who's your mom?"
The humor drained out of Tristan's face, and something flickered in his eyes. My stomach formed into a rock. Tristan didn't remember his actual parents. Like me, he never knew his father. He'd been taken from his mother while a tot, and all he knew was that she was evil.
"Um … so …" I stammered, trying to think of how to get out of this demand. "So, Dorian, why would you say moms give spankings? I've never spanked you."
He shrugged. "I know. Naughty Nick's mom spanks him. And his dad laughs when he's bad and that's all the time."
He chattered on about his favorite cartoon. Tristan thanked me with his eyes for distracting Dorian from the question. We both knew it wouldn't be the last time he'd ask, but at least now we could prepare ourselves for it.
Owen and Dorian were on Captiva later that morning, trying to make peace with the natives–we hoped their sweet faces and engaging personalities could win over the colony residents–when Mom and Charlotte arrived. After I gave them a tour of the house, we sat in the living room and watched Tristan connect a new home entertainment system–a "necessity" by his standards.
"So, are you pregnant yet?" Charlotte asked, direct as always.
I blinked with surprise. "Uh, no. Why?"
"I told you she wasn't," Mom said.
"I hoped you were wrong for once." Charlotte frowned.
"What's going on?" I asked.
Mom sighed. "I didn't want to get into it our first five minutes here, but there's a lot to discuss, honey. The Amadis are getting … anxious."
"Yeah, you said they're acting strange. So, is that why you're here? To spy on us? They wouldn't send royalty to investigate a witch, especially right now."
"Actually that was an excuse to come here and see you. They aren't aware you're here yet."
My eyebrows shot up. "Really? Surely someone in the colony–"
"Yes, someone has reported your arrival. But the entire Western Hemisphere reports to me now," Char said with a grin, "and I haven't bothered to tell the council yet. I said I needed your mother because we happened to be in Atlanta anyway, and with her truth-sensing and persuasion abilities, she'd make my investigation easy work."
I resisted the temptation to read their minds and studied their faces instead. Perhaps I really wanted to trust them, wanted them to be on our side, or perhaps they really were sincere, so I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt.
"Okay, so what's going on?" I asked again.
"The council
has broken into factions," Mom said, not telling Tristan or me anything new. Until her next statement. "Even the most supportive ones are becoming agitated, up in arms about the next daughter. Rina thinks the sooner you get pregnant, the sooner everyone will settle down and unite again."
"But Rina knows there's already a daughter," I said. "Why doesn't she say so, if that will make everyone happy?"
Mom raised her eyebrows. "Alexis, there is no daughter. You need to let it go."
"There is! I heard it. You need to believe me."
"You're jumping to conclusions based on snippets of thoughts."
My eyes flew to Charlotte and back to Mom.
"Charlotte knows about your power," Mom said. "I had to tell her so she can help us. Now listen to me. What you heard about Rina, the threat to expose her secret, is not what you think it is. It's not my secret to tell, but just trust me on this."
"Well, if it's not Rina's secret, it is somebody's. Julia and her mysterious friend and whoever else are hiding our daughter! If Rina would only listen to me …"
"It's nonsense, Alexis. There's no possible way. You need to stop searching for something that doesn't exist."
I narrowed my eyes.
"I know what you're doing," Mom said. "You're going to Daytona this weekend to question a witch coven. I feel the truth of it."
I didn't answer at first. Last I'd heard, we were going to Lake Okeechobee, but apparently Tristan had changed his mind. I looked at him, and he gave me a shrug.
"Okay, so that's what it is," I conceded. "So what? We need to figure this out. We need to find this girl."
"I also feel the truth that you're searching in vain. You won't find her–there isn't anyone to find." Her mahogany eyes were wide and sincere. She means it.
I dropped my head into my hands. Mom was never wrong. If Mom feels that truth, then what are we doing? What did I hear? Over a month had already passed since we left the Amadis Island, but the thoughts I heard were still clear. But the meanings?
Tristan came over and sat on the arm of my chair. I felt a tug inside my head–his mind signature. He was signaling me, and I opened my mind to him.
"What do you think, ma lykita? I trust you."
Time had passed, but the urgency had continued to build. Last night's dream only motivated me more.
"Maybe you're right, Mom," I finally said, "but I'm not taking the chance that you're not. Maybe whoever is blocking Rina's power is messing with yours, too. I can't risk our daughter's life, if she's out there. And as you said, if she is out there, finding her will improve things all around."
Mom and Charlotte exchanged a significant look.
"Tell her," Charlotte said.
Mom sighed heavily, closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. The air in the room thickened even more, making my lungs, my whole body heavy with dread. Whatever she had to say wasn't good.
"What?" I asked to break the silence.
"They gave you six months altogether," Charlotte said when Mom didn't answer. "So, you have two more months."
"Two months for what?" My eyes bounced between her and Mom, waiting for their answer.
"To become pregnant with a daughter or the council will take it into their own hands," Mom said darkly. "They'll split you and Tristan up."
The air whooshed out of my lungs and tears sprang to my eyes. Tristan took my hand, and I held onto his tightly as if they were already trying to pry us apart.
"Two months?" I finally whispered. "But … but that's not enough time."
"I agree, honey, but something–or someone–has them agitated."
"The traitor," I said.
"Probably. But they blame it on the Daemoni attacks … and other things. They say there's too much at stake to risk any delays. You conceived Dorian right away, so they think if this is possible between you and Tristan, it'll happen quickly."
"And if it's not possible? Then what?" My tone held an edge as the anger boiled near the surface.
"They want to try Owen."
"What?" I flew to my feet and paced the room. "That's ludicrous! What am I–a horse or a dog or something? How does a different stud change anything? I'm the one who's gone through the Ang'dora. I'm the one who wouldn't be able to conceive."
"We can't be certain about that," Mom said. "I conceived after the Ang'dora."
"Okay, then, why don't you and Owen try? That makes more sense than me and Owen!" I laughed hysterically, throwing my hands in the air. "Or, better yet, how about you and Tristan? That makes all the sense in the world, according to their thinking. Let's split up the supposed heavenly match, and everyone can fuck each other until we have another daughter!"
Mom pursed her lips, obviously biting back a reprimand. I thought I heard Tristan and Char chuckle quietly, but I wasn't sure. My head throbbed too loudly with anger.
"This is insane, Mom. We're supposed to serve God and the Angels, but adultery is acceptable, as long as there's another daughter? Does that really make sense to you? Does that end really justify the means?"
"Some people would say yes," Mom said. "In fact, a lot of people would."
"I would," Tristan said quietly.
I spun on him. "Seriously?"
He took my hands in his and kissed the knuckles on each one. "Lexi, the future of a whole society relies on your daughter. Every possibility needs to be tried until one is successful … or until the Amadis die with you. But when the Amadis die, the Daemoni win. And humanity loses."
I stared into his beautiful but dark eyes, tears again filling my own. Put that way, we had no choice. I fell back into my chair and doubled over my knees, crying and blubbering into my thighs. "So we have two months or they'll break us up? We're finally together again, and they'll cut us in two, just like that?"
Tristan stroked my hair as I sobbed. How could I lose him again?
"That's not all," Charlotte said. She paused with hesitation, then blurted it out. "If the most extreme faction succeeds, you won't even get two months. They want Tristan removed from the Amadis completely and immediately. They've decided he's the traitor and needs to be eliminated."
Chapter 16
The sobs cut off instantly. Remnants of Psycho Alexis, whom I hadn't felt since before Tristan returned months ago, emerged. The anger didn't bubble under the surface now. The entire volcano exploded. I stood and electricity charged through my veins and crackled around me. I almost expected lightning to shoot out of my eyes as I glared at Mom and Charlotte.
My words came out slow and deliberate. "If they dare, they lose all chances of another daughter. If he goes, I go."
"Alexis." Mom reached out for me. Electricity charged between us, and she flinched.
I stormed out the back door and ran down the empty beach, covering more ground than humanly possible. Tristan grabbed my shoulder from behind and spun me around, ignoring the electricity zapping between us. I fell into his arms.
"They can't separate us, Tristan. They just can't!"
He held me tightly and pressed his cheek against the top of my head, but he didn't reply.
"We're supposed to be made for each other. They said it themselves. They wanted us together. Why are they doing this?"
"Not everyone believed it then," he said quietly. "Fewer may believe it now, especially after what the Daemoni did to me … after what happened in the Keys. Maybe they're right."
I jerked back. "What are you saying? You don't think we belong together?"
My heart hammered in my chest, filling the silence when he didn't answer. Finally, he pulled me back against him. "What I think is irrelevant. I love you, and that's what matters."
I leaned my head against his chest. "I knew some of them wanted this, but I didn't seriously think it would happen. I didn't think Rina would let it."
"Lexi, this isn't about what Rina or you or I want. We have an obligation to the Amadis as a whole. An obligation to all of mankind. Without the Amadis, humanity ends."
"But not in the next two months. Not
in the next two or twenty years. They still have Rina, then Mom and then me. Lots of time." I inhaled deeply, the air rattling in my heaving chest, and exhaled slowly, calming myself. "Why are they being so demanding? How can they put a deadline on something that might be impossible? How can they destroy us for it?"
"Lexi, do you love me? Truly love me?" A ridiculous question, but his voice sounded as though he really needed to hear my answer. As if he weren't sure.
I looked up at him. "Of course."
He blew out a breath, and I couldn't understand why he'd been holding it. "Then they won't destroy us, my love. If we have to leave them for a while until time can prove my loyalty, then that's what we'll do."
"And if Mom is right … if this girl … this daughter doesn't exist, and I don't get pregnant in two months?" I couldn't say the rest … what they expected. So I whispered, "Owen?"
Tristan chuckled, though the sound was void of any joy. "In vitro fertilization, remember?"
Right. That had been my own idea in the past. The reminder calmed me further.
"You'd be okay with raising someone else's kid?"
"I'd prefer to be the father of your daughter–" He inhaled a deep breath and let it out. When he finished, his voice came out very quietly. "–but we do what we have to."
I pressed my forehead against his chest, twisting the hem of his shirt around my fingers.
"But if that doesn't work? What if they make us …?" The thought of being with Owen was nauseating. Not only because he was like a brother, but because he wasn't Tristan.
He lifted my chin with one hand and looked deeply into my eyes, penetrating my heart. "I pray it'll never come to that, and I'll do everything in my power to prevent it, but if it does … well, the pain would be worse than anything I've suffered in my entire long life. It would break my heart. But I would still love you, ma lykita. Nothing can change that."
My chest squeezed, and my heart swelled at the same time, feeling both the pain and love he expressed. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled myself up against him. "I love you, my sweet Tristan. Always."