by Kristie Cook
A while later, as land had come into view on the horizon, the pilot’s voice came from the overhead speaker. “We have a situation in Key West. We’ve been ordered to stop.”
Charlotte frowned and studied the screen of her phone, then pushed her hand through her hair as she swore under her breath.
“Alexis, when we land, I need you to stay on the plane,” Char said as we began to descend over the string of islands that made up the Florida Keys. “In fact, I want you in one of the bedrooms, and don’t come out until I say.”
Now she had me seriously worried. “What’s going on?”
“A couple of injuries, but looks like we might have a new addition.”
“A convert? We’re starting already?”
She shook her head. “Yes, a convert, but no, not for your training. Not yet. I’ll have to take him to Atlanta.”
“But can’t I help?”
“You can help by staying safe.” The warlock’s eyes narrowed at my pout. “Alexis, seriously. I can’t be worried about you with all the Daemoni in Key West. To do my job and get us all out safely, I need to know you’re here on the plane, okay? The pilots will stay with you. Tristan’s already been contacted, and I’m sure he’ll be there shortly after we land, if he’s not already. Everything will be okay—as long as you stay on the plane.”
“Right. Got it. Stay on the plane.” I gave her a reassuring smile, ignoring the painful jab that even she, who had trained me in combat, believed I was useless.
She managed a small smile as relief flooded her eyes. She tapped a message on her phone screen and then tucked the device into a pocket. “Thank you. And if you really want to help, keep tabs on the thoughts of people around me and tell me if we’re in any danger.”
Now I gave her a real smile. “I can do that.”
Rather than landing at the commercial airport, we hit ground on a runway at the Naval Air Station, which I found comforting. If the U.S. military gave the Amadis special clearance, we must have inside connections with some pretty important people. Charlotte flashed off the plane, and the pilots climbed down to the tarmac to keep watch. I tracked Char’s mind signature while reaching out to all those nearby, a sense of foreboding running a chilly finger up my spine. I couldn’t believe what I found.
Nearly every mind signature was Daemoni. Four Amadis were with Charlotte here on the Naval base, which was otherwise empty, as if abandoned. Only a handful of Normans were scattered throughout the island. I scanned minds, skipping around from head to head, occasionally dipping deeper into their thoughts, and discovered the horrible truth. Except for a few tourists who were trying to figure out why everyone seemed so strange, the only other Normans in Key West were not only fully aware of the Daemoni, but served them as volunteer blood donors and caretakers of the evil creatures. The Naval Station wasn’t being friendly to the Amadis—there was no one left to be friendly. Those sailors who refused to be turned had become the main course of a Daemoni feast.
“Oh, no,” I choked, although no one was on the plane to hear me.
Charlotte! I called out. Hurry! They … they’ve taken over. The Daemoni have taken over all of Key West!
“Just listen for trouble,” she said, her mental voice tight.
I hated listening to the Daemoni’s abhorrent thoughts, so I skimmed the surfaces of their minds, going deeper only when I felt the need to. There had apparently been a fight with our soldiers who were now with Char—some of the Daemoni were still riled up, and rallied for another attack.
As I scanned, I found myself unintentionally slowing down on those signatures belonging to vampires—my subconscious searched for Vanessa. It had been a couple of weeks since we’d seen her in Greece, and no one had reported any subsequent sightings. She could have easily made it here, one of her favorite stomping grounds, and then gone back into hiding among all the Daemoni.
I didn’t find her mind, but as I found two more vampires, the signature of a Norman practically screamed with fear. I zeroed in on it. A young woman had been pushed against the wall in an alley, the vampires pawing at her, one tall with white-blond hair. Not Vanessa, but close enough—Victor, her brother. Hating what I had to do but having no choice, I jumped into his mind, knowing I’d want to scrub my brain with a wire brush when I was done. I took in the view from his perspective and found a very familiar scene.
Victor! I mentally shouted at him. He froze, and his fear spiked with the unexpected voice in his head. Under other circumstances, I would have laughed. It’s Alexis. Surely you’ve been told about my telepathy.
He growled. “Get out of my head, bitch!”
Not until you let the girl go and tell me where Vanessa is.
“Screw off!”
I sighed. Just cooperate. You can’t make me leave, and I can make your mind a living hell. Worse than it is already.
The bastard basically shut his mind down by closing his eyes so I couldn’t see through them anymore and mentally singing some horrible ballad, drowning out every other thought. For a moment, I believed maybe he was smarter than I gave him credit for, but he couldn’t carry it on for long. As his hands remained on the girl, his thoughts kept traveling in disgusting places.
Crap. I couldn’t let him hurt her. Knowing his hands were still on her sent a chill up my spine. Yelling at him in his head wouldn’t do any good, but I’d promised Charlotte I’d stay on the plane. That I’d stay safe. Going solo into the heart of Daemoni-infested Old Key West wasn’t exactly keeping that promise, especially with my Amadis power so weak. I wrapped my hand around my dagger, reminding myself that I wasn’t unarmed. A warm surge shot into my arm.
“You have other powers, stronger than anyone’s.” The strange voice in my head again—the same one from the little town where we’d seen Vanessa and Owen.
Who are you? I demanded, though I feared the answer. What if she was only another part of me, meaning I was losing my mind again?
“The first daughter to handle this dagger. The only one able to, until you.”
So I was losing my mind. My dagger had belonged to Cassandra, the first Amadis daughter, and had been given to her by Andrew the Angel—over two-thousand years ago. Since the Angels only talked to the matriarch, the voice in my head couldn’t be real.
“It is me, Alexis. I am—”
A girl’s cry, though only in my head, drowned out anything else the voice said, and I refocused on Victor’s mind. The girl screamed again as his hand pushed between her legs, and his lust, both sexual and blood, soared, feeding off of her fear. Oh hell no. I couldn’t stand by, knowing what they would do to her.
“Be strong, Alexis. I am with you.”
I hoped Char would forgive me as I flashed away, thankful the co-pilot had dropped the shield around the plane so the Amadis could flash onto it when they were ready. I told myself I wasn’t listening to some strange voice in my head, but was only doing the right thing for the Norman girl.
I appeared in the alley off of Duval Street and nearly gagged. The place reeked of evil, the Daemoni presence so freaking heavy. Evening had nearly fallen, shrouding the place in darkness, and I could sense them everywhere—on front porches of old houses, on the sidewalks of Duval Street, at the bars and in the restaurants, barely bothering to hide their true selves. They mingled with the few tourists, and conspired with the locals.
My heart rate instantly spiked. Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid. What had I been thinking? Charlotte had told me to stay on the plane for a reason. We were already greatly outnumbered, and now I was completely alone with Victor and the other vamp only steps away.
“The girl. You came for the girl. And I told you, you’re not alone.” I tried to push the voice away, but unfortunately, I couldn’t silence it. “Take care of the girl, Alexis!”
But at least she had reminded me of my purpose for being here.
I ran my thumb over the amethyst in the dagger’s hilt, revealing the silver blade, and withdrew it from its sheath at my hip. Feeling another surge o
f power from it, I ran and lunged at the trio. I landed on Victor’s back, and he yelped with surprise. His friend immediately ran off, but I didn’t care about him as long as he left the girl alone. Victor, on the other hand, had something to tell me, whether he wanted to or not.
He squirmed and bucked, trying to throw me off, but I held on tightly, my thighs gripping his waist and my arms around his shoulders. His hand grabbed my wrist and if he squeezed any harder, he’d pulverize my bones into powder. The pain loosened my grasp, and he flipped me over his head. Right before I’d slam to the ground, I twisted in the air and landed on my feet, facing him. He lunged at me without thinking about it first, and I moved barely fast enough to dodge his punch. He fought with instinct, no thoughts for me to hear before he acted, and I wasted precious time parrying his blows. When he swayed off balance after a missed punch, though, I made my own move and landed again on his back, this time holding the silver blade against his neck. He froze.
“That’s a good boy,” I said, still hanging onto him. I peered over his shoulder at the girl who’d been paralyzed with fear during our brief fight. With long dark hair and dark eyes, tall and thin, she reminded me so much of Sheree. I thanked God I’d been able to stop the attack on her. “Go. Now! Get whoever you came here with and go far away from this place.”
Like Sheree had done so long ago, the girl finally scrambled to her feet and stumbled down the alley. Victor made another attempt to throw me off. The blade slid across his skin, and he grunted from the contact with the silver. He froze again.
“Your sister’s right. You really are an idiot, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Get the hell off me,” he growled.
“Answer a question for me, and I’ll think about it.”
“You already ruined my dinner. I have nothing to tell you.”
I pressed the blade harder against his throat. He whimpered. “I just want to know where Vanessa is.”
“I don’t know.” Victor stiffened even more under my muscles, but I hadn’t done anything to cause it.
“I suggest telling the truth,” Tristan said from behind us. My chest felt as though a wide belt had suddenly loosened its tight hold on me, and I took my first real breath since leaving the plane. I was no longer alone.
Tristan moved around to the front of us, his palm facing out toward Victor’s chest as he stood several yards away—far enough that if he flashed, Victor couldn’t follow his trail. Overcome with happiness to see my beautiful husband in person, I grinned, fighting the urge to jump into his arms, because if I did, Victor could flash away, and we wouldn’t be able to follow him. The look he gave me in return was murderous.
“I am,” Victor managed to get out between stiff lips. “Haven’t seen her in months.”
Really? I’d always thought they were inseparable—I’d never seen them apart. Except … the last time we saw her …. I tried to remember if Victor had been among the Daemoni on the Greek island, but I hadn’t inspected their mind signatures closely enough. Doesn’t matter. He surely had to at least have an idea of where she hid, and there was only one way to find out.
A mental shudder ran through me as once again my mind made its way into Victor’s icky head. If he knew where Vanessa was, though, he had no thoughts about her now. But then he accidentally recalled a memory—a very recent one—of Vanessa standing in a dark alley similar to this one, she and a blond guy in each other’s faces, their noses only inches apart. A very familiar blond and not Victor himself. In fact, the vampire hissed at the memory.
What the …?
Tristan raised an eyebrow at me. I gave him a slight shake of my head. He doesn’t know where she is.
“Let’s go then.”
To the plane?
“No, I told Charlotte to take off. Go home.”
With a nod, I sprang from Victor’s back and landed next to Tristan. In a flash, we appeared in our garage, which gave us a few moments before we were bombarded by an eight-year-old.
“Victor was telling the truth?” Tristan asked, his voice harsh. I stopped myself from throwing my arms around him when I saw sparks of anger in his eyes.
“Um … not exactly. It hasn’t been months since he’s seen her, like he said … in fact, it was only last week in Key West. But get this …”
Victor’s memory, now my memory, played in my mind, and I shared it with Tristan. Vanessa had turned from the blond male in the alley to look at Victor. She lifted her lip in a snarl, and her musical voice warned Victor to lay off.
“He’s mine,” she hissed, and the memory faded.
“She was with … Owen,” I said with disbelief. But I couldn’t decide if seeing them together shocked me more, or if the vision of him tilting his head, as if offering his neck to her, did.
“That’s … unexpected,” Tristan agreed. “At least we know he survived it.”
“We know nothing, Tristan! She could be slowly sucking him dry, and he’s letting her. Victor was pissed she wouldn’t share him and all the power in his blood.”
“She doesn’t exactly have a reputation for sharing,” Tristan muttered, which reminded me of the last time I’d heard her declare someone as hers—me.
Only, I had to admit, there was something different about the way she said it this time. Murder filled her voice when she spoke of me. Something else, something just as passionate yet different, colored her tone when she spoke of Owen.
“Oh, no! What if he’s letting her kill him on purpose? What if he’s suicidal?”
“Nah,” Tristan said, but he stroked his chin as if he wasn’t so sure. “No,” he said more firmly. “Besides, Vanessa won’t kill him. He’s too valuable. It’d be more likely that she’d infect him. Or perhaps convince him that he’s already Daemoni because of his ties to Kali.”
Exactly my fear. “He’d rather be dead than be a vamp or any kind of Daemoni. We need to find him. And if he’s converted, we need to save him.”
“And if he doesn’t want to be saved?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed.
“Alexis, that’s part of preparing for your role. You need to be able to face that possibility.”
“We’re talking about Owen, though. He doesn’t really want to be part of them.”
“You have no idea what’s going through his mind right now.”
I put my fists on my hips. “You’re wrong. I do have an idea. I know what it’s like to find out your sperm donor is evil. I don’t know what the physical ties are between him and Kali, but he has her magic. He was essentially raised by her without knowing it.”
“So it’s a little different than finding out someone you never knew is your enemy. Owen might handle his news differently than you handled yours.”
“He can’t want to be evil, Tristan. Not Owen!”
“And if he does? Can you kill him if it comes to that?”
I turned my back on him and crossed my arms over my chest.
“We can’t let it come to that,” I said, then I strode out of the garage and headed for the house.
Tristan’s hand clamped on my shoulder, and he spun me around. “We’re not done yet.”
But apparently we were, for the time being anyway, because Dorian’s voice rang from inside the house and the backdoor flew open.
“Mom’s home!”
Chapter 5
I rearranged my mental focus and put myself in Mom mode right when a not-so-little boy came sailing at me. Using his own special skills, he slowed in mid-air to avoid a collision—he was already big enough that he could have easily bowled me over. I wrapped my arms around him as he embraced my neck.
“I told you I’d come home,” I said. “Did you miss me?”
“Lots! But Blossom’s been here and she does everything for me. And she’s made cake every day! I think I want to marry her. Is that okay with you, Mom?”
I chuckled. “Isn’t she a little old for you?”
He shrugged. “Nah. And she’s beautiful.” He paused. “But so is Heat
her. She’s younger. Maybe I’ll marry her instead.”
I knew Blossom—the cake-baking witch with blond hair, big eyes and a spell-enhanced chest, who had become a good friend—but I didn’t know Heather. The name rang some kind of bell in my mind, but I couldn’t immediately place it.
“Who’s Heather?” I asked him.
“She’s been helping Dad and Blossom. She’s here right now.” Dorian tugged at my hand to pull me inside, but my feet remained planted outside the door. I looked over my shoulder at Tristan.
“Heather?” I asked.
His angry scowl transformed into a guilty grimace. Jealousy’s green tentacles tried to slither around my heart, but then the image of a handwritten note appeared in my mind, a letter I’d received right after the trial, signed by Heather. She’d been the girl whose dad I’d punched in the nose ten years ago, and a few weeks later, he’d driven his car into Mom’s bookstore. She’d written me to ask for my help, believing that her sister Sonya, who had stalked me, the author, had become a vampire. Ah, crap. I wasn’t in the best mental or physical state to take this on.
“Sorry,” Tristan muttered. “I should have given you some warning. She was sitting on the front step the day Dorian and I arrived, and she hasn’t left since.”
I drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“Come on, Mom,” Dorian said, still tugging on my arm. “You’re letting the bugs in.”
I reluctantly crossed the threshold and into my home—the place I’d lived in for only a few months and had been gone from twice as long. It didn’t feel quite like home at the moment. Especially knowing my two men had been here earlier with the two women sitting at my dining table. Well, one woman and one girl. The unfamiliar one, with shoulder-length, brown hair and blue eyes, couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old.
“Hi,” she said with a little wave of her hand and a wide smile that showed nearly all of her pearly whites. “I’m Heather.”