by Kristie Cook
The painful sensory overload had disappeared, leaving my senses exponentially more powerful.
That potent energy still ran through my blood and muscles and nerves, but not the icy or burning forces. Just pleasant warmth. This is good energy. This is Amadis power. I had no doubt.
And an odd but delightful feeling filled my entire body, every cell, deep into the very core of my being. Into my soul.
Is it over?
“Yes, dear, it is over,” Rina’s voice answered in my mind.
She sat on the bed to my right, looking majestic and glorious, although she didn’t wear the usual formal gown, but a black shirt and black jeans, just like Mom. Only, Mom wore a cotton scoop-neck T and Rina wore a shimmery silk tank. Rina took my hand and closed her eyes. I could feel her power, but not as strong as it used to be—at least, not relative to my own. I could tell she assessed me.
“Simply amazing,” she said aloud.
“Magnificent, as you always said,” Mom agreed, giving my other hand a squeeze. “How do you feel, honey?”
“Um, good.” My voice surprised me. I expected the words to come out in a croak or even just a whisper after everything I’d been through, but my voice came clear and strong. “Is Dorian okay?”
I had to be sure. Doubt lingered from the bizarre experience. Things might have changed since the last time I’d been fully aware of everything.
“Of course he is. He’s at the Amadis mansion. He’s in good hands,” Mom said.
I wanted to hold him and know for sure. And I couldn’t wait for the three of us to be united, but I also knew he was safer there than here right now.
“What about Sheree?”
“She’s stable,” Mom said. “One of our best counselors is working with her now.”
“So she’s not converted yet?”
“Conversion can take weeks or months . . . or longer,” Rina said.
“Oh.” I had no sense of how much time had passed, but it seemed it’d already been a long time since they’d left. I felt as though I’d slept for days. “How long was I out of it?”
“We returned about seven hours ago. Not long,” Mom answered.
“That’s it?”
“It happened very fast,” Rina confirmed.
I sat up in the bed, holding the sheet to my chest to cover my nakedness. The door remained closed, and only Mom and Rina were in the room, but their eyes stayed glued to me, making me self-conscious.
“What, exactly, happened?” I asked.
“You’ve completed the Ang’dora,” Mom answered simply. “You want to see?”
She and Rina helped me out of bed, but I really didn’t need any assistance. My body felt perfect—strong, healthy, full of power. As we walked into the adjoining bathroom, though, I was glad they were there. Because I staggered with shock when I saw myself in the mirror. They both beamed.
“Tha-that’s . . . that’s me?” I breathed. Of course, it had to be. Who else would be standing naked between Mom and Rina with that shocked look on her face and the bright red Amadis mark on her chest? It took me a moment to make sense of the vision.
I was . . . beautiful.
Not pretty. Not even gorgeous like a model or a movie star. But beautiful. Like Mom and Rina and Tristan beautiful.
My features hadn’t really changed—my eyes were still the same almond shape and mahogany brown and my nose, lips, and chin were still shaped the same. They were all just . . . better. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what looked different, but there was definitely something. My skin looked like golden silk, perfectly smooth. And my hair shone vibrantly like Mom’s in a million shades of reds and browns. And I’d aged backwards even more. It would be hard to pass for much older than twenty.
My body had changed, too. Unfortunately, I hadn’t grown at all. I was still small. But my muscles were more defined, yet in a feminine way. And I was . . . curvier.
“Wow,” I breathed as I lifted my boobs in my hands. They were fuller than they’d ever been, even bigger than when I’d been pregnant. Mom and Rina chuckled.
“Exquisite,” Rina said.
“Stunning,” Mom added.
“How?” I asked, running my hands over my body, still trying to grasp that the reflection in the mirror actually belonged to me.
“We revert to the single point in time when our bodies were physically, mentally, and emotionally strongest,” Rina explained.
“It looks as though you’ve gone back to about the time when you were married,” Mom said.
She was right. I looked to be about nineteen again.
“Not only physically,” Rina added.
“What do you mean?”
“Your mind and your soul have also gone back to when they were strongest.” Mom’s smile faltered. “Unfortunately, it means your memories from then until now have probably faded.”
I tried to determine the truth to this, but my memories since the day Tristan left had already been dim. Only those of Dorian had ever been strong, had ever meant anything to me, and I could still recall them now. And I knew the memories we’d been making from now on would be even better.
“So I’m basically restarting from that time?”
“Basically,” Mom said. “You lose some of the wisdom you’ve gained in that time, but you have a long future ahead to regain it and so much more. And there is good news.”
Rina nodded. “The Amadis power multiplies your strengths exponentially and provides you with special powers and abilities.”
“And the appearance of an angel,” I said as I gazed at my reflection.
“These gifts do come from the Angels,” Rina agreed. “But the beauty comes from within—our faith, hope, and love shining through.”
Love. The pleasurable feeling I couldn’t pinpoint earlier flowing through my body and soul. More love than I thought any person—or being—could possibly hold. In fact, it overflowed, and I wanted to wrap Mom and Rina within it. If I weren’t naked, I would have pulled them into me.
“So this is where I stay forever? Looking like this?” I asked.
“Pretty much,” Mom answered.
“How? Are we like vampires?”
Mom chuckled. Rina shook her head.
“No, not quite,” Rina said. “We are not frozen in time. Our hearts still beat, blood still flows through our veins, and we still need oxygen, although we can regulate how much we need when necessary. The explanation is connected to our ability to heal, which is essentially the regeneration of cells and tissues, yes?”
She looked at me as if expecting an answer, so I nodded my understanding.
“Sleep allows our bodies to completely heal from the day’s effects on them,” Mom said. “Every organ, tissue, and cell regenerates, making our bodies exactly as young and healthy as when we first awoke that morning.”
“But I could heal before . . .” I stopped as the realization hit me. “But only injured cells.”
“Correct,” Rina said. “It is the Amadis power that regenerates all cells. Every night, while we sleep, our bodies return to their strongest. Every day is, indeed, a fresh start. Because we heal quickly, we do not need as much sleep as normal humans.”
No wonder Mom and Tristan always seemed to get more things done in one day than many people could accomplish in a week. I couldn’t wait to start this new life.
“But I won’t lose everything I learned that day, right? Those memories won’t fade?” I hadn’t noticed any evidence of this in Mom or Tristan, but I wanted to make sure I understood and knew what to expect.
“Your mind is stronger than ever,” Mom said. “You’ll remember more than you thought possible, down to every little detail.”
I stared at us in the mirror while thinking all of this through.
“It’s too good to be true, isn’t it?” I finally said. “We’re smart, we’re full of love, we’re beautiful and have perfect bodies. And the suckiest parts of our lives are essentially erased.”
Mom cringed. “Not exactly erased
. There will be times that those hard times will hit you like a freight train. Along with the physical senses, your emotions are heightened, too—not just the love, but all of them. And when you’re feeling particularly strong in one area, a memory might slam into you.”
“You will find it difficult to manage those emotions for a while,” Rina said. “But you will learn to. It will take time, many years or perhaps decades, but you will learn, and then you will reach your true potential. Then you will be even stronger in every way than you are now, and you will need that strength for what is in store for you.”
My brows raised. What did that mean?
“You may think these gifts from the Angels are too good to be true now,” Mom said, “but they are necessary for what you will face in the future.” A loud banging noise came from the other side of the house, and Mom added under her breath, “Perhaps sooner than we think.”
Rina pursed her lips at the sound and Mom’s comment. “Let us get you dressed, darling. There is much to do.”
Although I didn’t look like I’d been to Hell and back and I certainly didn’t feel it now, I remembered enough of the phases of the Ang’dora—freezing, burning, sweating—to feel the need for a shower. The feeling of the water pouring down on my skin enraptured me, but I showered hurriedly. I wanted to see Tristan. Just the thought of him made my soul sing.
“I see you’ve been a little too busy to do laundry,” Mom said as I dried myself off. “You only have one outfit left.”
She laid the brightly colored sundress on the bed. It was my favorite one, which was why I hadn’t worn it yet. Metallic gold outlined the abstract design in jewel tones—ruby, sapphire, amethyst, emerald, and topaz—against a black background. The dress seemed too showy for hanging around the house. Now I had no choice but to wear it. When I pulled it on, the silk slid softly against my skin, like the brush of soft, smooth lips.
“Where’s Tristan?” I couldn’t wait to be in his arms again, now that I’d finally gone through the long anticipated Ang’dora. I’m finally like him.
Neither Mom nor Rina answered me, but they exchanged meaningful looks. Impatient with their silence, I headed to the door.
“No!” They both cried, but not aloud. They were in my head . . . or I was in theirs.
I turned around.
“What?” I asked.
Neither answered. But their faces said it all. Something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” I demanded. I dimly remembered those bits of conversation, but none made sense.
And then the voices raged in my head all at once.
“He’s going to kill her,” Mom thought.
“She is strong enough. She can handle it.” Rina’s thought.
“I can’t hold him much longer! I need reinforcements now.” That was Owen.
“Kill the little bitch.” A frightening, deep-throated growl. “No mercy. Just kill her.”
The feeling, whose ever it was, came so strong it filled my head until I thought my brain would explode. No images appeared except an angry swirl of reds and deep oranges, pulsing and growing until the mass pressed against my skull. I threw my arms over my head as if they could stop the onslaught.
“Go away! Make it stop!” I shrieked.
“Alexis!” Rina said sharply, grabbing my attention. My head snapped up, and my arms fell to my side. “Focus on my voice and nothing else. Yes, like that—focus on me, on my words.”
I looked her in the eyes and listened specifically to her voice. The others’ thoughts dimmed in my head, just background noise now. The colors faded away, and the pressure ebbed back.
She spoke slowly and softly, like a hypnotist. “There you go. Just remain focused on me. Now, imagine a black wall in your head, and the only sound on this side of the wall is my voice. Yes?”
I nodded. I closed my eyes and imagined pulling a wall up in my head, dividing that black space or cloud, separating her voice from the others. The jumble in the background went completely away.
“Now, can you hear me?” Rina thought.
Yes.
“Anyone else?”
No. I opened my eyes.
“Good. You are doing beautifully. You are very powerful.” She smiled, then she said aloud, “Sophia, think about something you want Alexis to hear.”
Mom nodded.
“Now push my voice behind the wall and focus on your mother’s thoughts,” Rina directed.
I tried, but the wall fell.
“He’s going to break loose! I can’t hold him!” Owen’s thoughts roared.
“Kill. Her. Kill! Her!” Images of crimson blood against grayness flashed in my mind.
“Who wants to kill somebody?” I demanded out loud, frightened and offended by the thought. “Who else is here? I can’t tell.”
“Alexis! You must focus,” Rina ordered.
“How can I focus with that? It’s horrible!”
“That is why you must focus. You have a very powerful and rare gift, but you need to learn to control it. The world is full of horrible, and you will not be able to manage your power otherwise. Trust me.”
I took some deep breaths to calm myself, then I focused on putting up the wall again.
“Do you have a wall?” Rina asked.
I nodded.
“Now, concentrate on your mother’s voice. You know her voice very well. Listen only for it. Do not try to move the wall or try to take a piece of it out. It must always remain there intact. Just concentrate on the voice you want.”
I envisioned the cloud again. It enshrouded Rina, but the wall blocked off everything else. I imagined the cloud reaching out to include Mom.
“You can do this,” Mom’s voice reverberated in my head. I nodded.
“Can you still hear me?” Rina asked. I nodded again. “That is good if you want to hear us both, but you need to focus on only one. Block me out.”
I tried pulling the cloud away from Rina.
“Rina is right. You are amazingly powerful. I can feel it above my own.” Mom kept on with the pep rally as Rina’s voice died away.
I tried the opposite, and I could hear Rina again and not Mom. Rina must have sensed me.
“Now tune out everyone and listen only to yourself,” she instructed.
I focused on shrinking the cloud until it became nothing in my mind, nothing but my own thoughts. But my thoughts still worried about the other voices, and the wall started to crumble. I concentrated on holding it there, beads of sweat popping out on my forehead from the intense focus. The wall finally held. I relaxed my mind slowly, and the wall remained.
“Control will take much practice,” Rina said aloud. “Just hold the wall up and the rest will come in time.”
I mentally assigned one part of my brain to hold up the wall and tested the rest to wander. I thought about Tristan. The wall remained—no one’s thoughts came through—even with the swelling of love that felt nearly overwhelming. It felt strange to be able to hold one part of my brain there on its own. The capacity of my mind felt larger, and I could use more parts of it at once. I continued thinking about Tristan, kept the wall up, and used a different part of my mind to think of Dorian. Wow! This is incredible! I kept those three thoughts running and tried communicating with Rina.
Rina, I think I can do this.
She smiled. She heard me. And Tristan’s and Dorian’s faces held, as did the wall.
“I knew you would be good,” she thought.
I suddenly realized how tense my muscles were, as if I physically held the wall in place. I relaxed one muscle group at a time, working my way down from my neck to my feet. The wall held.
“So who’s here?” I asked aloud. “Who is that terrible person or . . . thing? I don’t sense Sheree or any other Daemoni. Why would anyone here want to kill someone?”
Mom and Rina exchanged glances again.
“You do not sense Daemoni?” Rina asked. “Do you sense evil?”
“No, not in that way. Should I?”
; “That is interesting,” she said. “That is good.”
Mom shot her a pointed look. “Don’t you sense something?” she asked Rina.
“It does not matter what you and I sense, Sophia. Alexis will be more highly tuned to it than us. She has a connection that we do not. We need to rely on her in this situation.”
At the same time as that conversation, I thought about the voices, trying to identify that horrible growl. I’d heard Rina, Mom, and Owen in my head. But not Tristan. I still smelled his mouthwatering scent, so I knew he was in the house. Is he sleeping? Or . . .
“Oh, no! What’s wrong with Tristan?”
“Honey,” Mom said, “we have a serious situation we’re going to have to deal with as soon as you open that door.”
“What’s going on? Was that him?” I started for the door, already knowing the answer.
“Alexis, wait,” Mom barked. I stopped with my hand on the knob and turned to look at her.
“He needs me, Mom. He needs my help.” I opened the door and the growl—what had sounded like a train—became a terrifying roar.
“Alexis, you can’t just go out there,” Mom cried. “He wants to kill you!”
Chapter 21
“That’s ridiculous, Mother!” I started down the hallway, and she grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around. The roar quieted slightly to a loud rumble while footsteps hurried back and forth in the kitchen. “He loves me. He just needs my help.”
“That is not your Tristan, Alexis. That is Daemoni. They got to him, honey, and all he’s wanted since we returned is to kill you. Owen can hardly hold him back.”
I pulled away from her grip and continued down the hallway. “He is my Tristan. I don’t feel Daemoni. And I was with him for two days. I think I would know. Owen knows, too. He spent the day with us yesterday. You even saw him last night.”
“And he wasn’t doing so well,” Mom reminded me.
We’d come into the kitchen. Owen paced frantically, shaking his head.
