by Kristie Cook
“Don’t forget I can do the same to you,” I said when I caught up to him.
He chuckled. “Trust me, I’ll never forget. And I’m not ashamed of it, either. But I do promise to behave.”
He took my hand, his touch automatically calming me, but right before we entered the dining room, I stepped behind him.
“Dad!” Dorian bounded from his chair at the table and leapt into Tristan’s arms. “I’ve been waiting forever for you to wake up!”
He threw his arms around Tristan’s neck in a tight hug.
“Guess I don’t count for anything anymore,” I said with mocked pain.
He peeked over Tristan’s shoulder with the same hazel eyes as his father’s. “Hey, Mom. I missed you, too.”
“Sure you did.” I ruffled his blond hair. I didn’t blame him for his enthusiasm for Tristan—yesterday was the first time they’d ever met, and they had a lot of catching up to do.
Rina, Mom, and Owen sat at the table, coffee mugs and breakfast plates in front of them, their conversation we’d heard from the hallway suddenly silent. I barely glanced their way, just in time to see Owen turning his head and dropping his sapphire eyes, his face as pink as the half-eaten grapefruit on his plate. The image of the rising sheet popped into my mind, and my face heated, probably turning darker than Owen’s. I studied the tablecloth, wondering if anyone would notice if I crawled underneath it and stayed there the rest of my life. Or at least until Owen left. How can I ever face him again?
As soon as Tristan and I sat down, a woman who looked as old as the ancient mansion came through a door with a tray of coffee, mugs, and condiments. She placed everything in front of us, and I reached for the coffee pot, but she grabbed it first, pouring our coffee for us. I wasn’t used to this.
“Alexis, this is Ophelia,” Rina said with her Italian accent. She was over a century-and-a-half old, but Rina appeared to be in her late twenties, not much older than Mom looked. Her wide, mahogany eyes, nearly identical to mine and Mom’s, warmed with appreciation as she regarded the elderly woman. “She has served the Amadis for over two-hundred years, since the days of my great-grandmother’s rule. Ophelia, I’d like you to meet our Alexis.”
Ophelia dipped into a curtsy. I definitely wasn’t used to that.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Alexis,” she said, her voice soft and smoother than I expected, compared to her severely creased face. She turned to Tristan. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Tristan. It has been a long time.”
Ophelia returned her attention to me, her gray eyes surprisingly clear behind the many folds of her eyelids. Doing the math, I realized she was nearly the same age as Tristan. Ew. That thought’s . . . discomforting. I banished it immediately.
“What would you like for breakfast, dear?” she asked me.
“What are my choices?”
She smiled. “Anything you’d like, Ms. Alexis.”
“Anything?” I asked with surprise. “Chocolate croissants? And strawberries?”
She curtsied again. “Certainly. Mr. Tristan?”
I stared at him as he rattled off a list of eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, and practically every other breakfast item known to mankind.
“I told you I was starving,” he said once Ophelia disappeared.
“I thought we were in a hurry,” I muttered. “It’ll take forever for her to cook all that.”
But as soon as I said the last word, Ophelia came through the door again, another tray on her arm. I wondered if the kitchen always had food ready to go, and then the truth hit me—the chef probably prepared it with magic. And then I realized, with mild shock, Ophelia herself was probably a witch. I’d only just learned the basics of the creatures that made up the Amadis, and mage made the most sense. Since she served the royal family domestically, she couldn’t have been a warlock, who’d be out fighting, even at her age. Although . . . she might have been a Were, explaining how her frail-looking body could hold all that food, but then I noticed she wasn’t actually carrying it. The tray hovered just over her arm, so it only looked as though she carried it. Yep, a witch. Weird.
Dorian eyed her, apparently not seeing that magic held the tray. “How are you so strong, Ophelia? You’re so old!”
“Dorian!” I hissed, my face even hotter than it had been. “That’s not nice.”
“He’s simply saying what he sees—I am old,” Ophelia said with a chuckle as she doled out all of Tristan’s plates. Then she winked at Dorian. “Bat wing soup and lots of vegetables.”
“Ew,” Dorian said, wrinkling his nose. “Good thing I’m strong because of my dad.”
“Vegetables help,” Tristan said as he pierced some kind of decorative leaf on his plate of eggs and shoved it into his mouth.
He dug into all his food while I pulled my croissant apart, picking at it more than eating it. My stomach remained knotted with worry, not helped by the embarrassment for my loss of control last night. I couldn’t ever have felt any more awkward than I did at this moment, sitting at a table full of people who had all experienced my orgasm right along with me.
“Alexis!” Rina’s voice came in my head, sounding very nearly like her regular voice but loud as a shout. I nearly jumped in my seat at the urgent tone, and my eyes shot up at her. Her brows drew together as she studied me then she finally said, “I need to talk to you about your gift.”
Had she heard my thoughts about last night? I blushed.
“Yes, we will talk about that, but it will have to wait,” she said. “I need to discuss a few things with you regarding the council meeting.”
This way or in private? I asked her.
She rose from her chair. “We need to be at the Council Hall in ten minutes. Sophia, Alexis, please come with me, yes?”
I dropped the fist-sized strawberry I was eating onto the plate next to my half-eaten croissant, wiped the red juice from my fingers onto the cloth napkin, and stood up.
“I’ll stay with Dorian during the meeting,” Owen offered. He wasn’t a member of the council—just my bodyguard, though I thought of him more like the big brother I never had but always wanted. Similarly, he was like an uncle to Dorian. They adored each other. Dorian, who’d been pouting because he wanted Tristan to himself all day, grinned at the idea of at least getting to hang out with Uncle Owen.
“No, Owen, I would like you at the meeting,” Rina said. “You will continue to serve as Alexis’s protector, so you need to know everything. Ophelia will take care of him.”
“We’ll go toad hunting,” Ophelia called from the kitchen just as Dorian’s mouth began to turn down into a frown. His eyes lit up. He jumped off his chair, gave Tristan and me quick hugs, and ran for the kitchen.
I followed Rina and Mom out of the dining room and down a long hallway. Rina’s deep-violet, floor-length gown swished at her legs as we entered what appeared to be her office. It was large and beautifully decorated, with polished wood furniture, including a desk and ceiling-high bookshelves, full of ancient-looking books and knickknacks. A leather sofa and two high-back chairs created a sitting area near the fireplace, where crackling flames danced, as they did in every fireplace in the cool stone mansion. Everything was antique.
“Alexis, use your mind to determine if anyone is nearby,” Rina said after Mom closed and locked the door.
This was something she could do herself, of course, so she was either allowing me to practice or testing me. I probed outwards with my mind, careful to keep my mental wall in place. I sensed no other thoughts nearby and shook my head.
“Before we go into the council meeting, you need to know we have not disclosed your gift of telepathy to anyone,” Rina said, moving to the chair behind her desk. Mom and I took the seats in front of her. “Only the three of us, Solomon, Tristan, and Owen possess this knowledge, and I want it to remain so for as long as we can keep it secret.”
I nodded. She had told me this before, at the beach house in the Florida Keys, implying it had to do with the video I’d received showing the Daemo
ni beheading Tristan. The video was, obviously, a fake.
“I do not even want the council to be made aware at this time,” Rina said.
“Okay . . . but why? I thought you figured out the Daemoni had hacked your email and sent the video to me—”
“That was a guess,” Mom said. “It makes the most sense they would send it, but we’re still investigating. Rina has reason to believe—”
“I would like you to listen to the council members’ minds during the meeting,” Rina cut in, her eyes flashing anger at Mom.
My eyebrows shot up. “Um, I could be missing something here, but isn’t that a big invasion of privacy?”
“You are missing something,” Mom said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms as she glared at Rina.
“What?”
“I—” Rina broke Mom’s gaze and began shuffling and stacking papers on her desk. “I just need you to listen.”
“But why me? Can’t you do it?” I didn’t intend to sound so rude and demanding, but her request made me uncomfortable. As did the tension between the two of them.
Rina abandoned her papers and clasped her hands together. Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath, and she shook her head slowly. I’d noticed yesterday, while she provided some of the answers I’d been waiting to hear for so long, a new shadow over her I’d never seen before. Something different—less confidence, I supposed, as if something had seriously shaken her. I thought my mention of Noah, her son and Mom’s twin, had caused it, but today the gloom was more pronounced. Her face appeared tighter than normal, and she held her shoulders at a more defined angle, as if stress locked her muscles in place.
“Someone might be blocking her power,” Mom said when Rina didn’t answer me.
“But not mi—? Wait—they can block your power?”
Rina sighed, the sound pregnant with profound sadness. What’s making her so unhappy? What can I do to help?
“There is a possibility a mage might be able to shield me from entering his or her mind,” she finally said. “A slight possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. I would have thought only a sorcerer would be powerful enough, but the witch, wizards, and warlocks on the council are among the most powerful in the world, nearly rivaling any sorcerer.”
“Then they could easily block mine,” I pointed out.
“Not if they don’t realize they need to,” Mom said. “Our reason for keeping it secret.”
“Well, there aren’t any guarantees it’ll stay secret. I don’t exactly have the best control.” I anxiously pawed at the base of my throat, once again coming up empty, no pendant hanging there.
“I only need you to keep your wall up and listen, just listen,” Rina said. She implored me with wide, pleading eyes, and I wanted to make that look go away. But could I do what she asked?
I stood up and walked over to the fireplace, gnawing on my lip and staring at intricately designed glass eggs lining the mantle.
“Alexis, I would not ask you if I did not think you could handle it,” Rina continued. “You have excellent control of protecting your own thoughts. I cannot hear them without your allowing me to.”
I glanced over my shoulder at her and lifted an eyebrow, hoping it was enough to remind her of last night.
“Yes, well, that is a different matter,” she said dismissively.
“You and Tristan won’t be having sex at the council meeting,” Mom said more bluntly.
“No, but what if something else happens?” I asked, throwing an emphatic hand in the air and nearly knocking over one of the eggs. I hurried to steady it before it fell, turned and began pacing. “So many people and all those thoughts . . . I nearly had a mental breakdown on the flights over here. I’m not ready yet. Can it wait until I’m better at this?”
“No,” Mom and Rina said in unison.
Rina stepped in front of me, forcing me to stop pacing. She took my hands into hers. “I need you to do it now, darling, or I would not ask you. It is quite urgent.”
I blinked at her desperate words. “What’s going on?”
She pursed her lips together as if trying to hold the words back. “I cannot imagine who . . . or why . . . I trust them all immensely . . . perhaps too much . . .”
“Who? What?”
“Just say it, Mother,” Mom said with obvious impatience.
Rina sighed, and I thought I could see tears building in her eyes. “I have received a message from the Angels. I can only interpret it to mean . . .” She cleared her throat, blinked away any moisture gathered in her eyes, and lifted her chin. “. . . to mean there is a traitor in our midst.”
“A traitor?” I asked. “On the council?”
“We’re not positive,” Mom said. “It could be anyone in the Amadis, but it’s most likely someone on the council. We’re praying it’s not true, but if it is . . .”
“I am hoping you may be able to find out, Alexis,” Rina said. “Since your power will not be blocked, you may be able to learn something I cannot. My hope is you will find nothing, that I have interpreted the message inaccurately, but I must ask you as a precaution.”
“And you think this traitor sent the video?” I asked. “That it was Amadis, after all?”
“We have no conclusive evidence. If there really is a traitor, however, it might be the person who sent the video. They might be planning something worse. It could mean the destruction of the entire Amadis if not addressed.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Wow. No pressure there. I didn’t know anything about the council, but as the matriarch’s advisors, I assumed they’d be the best and most loyal of all the Amadis. So who would want to betray us? Why? What did they have planned?
“Alexis?” Mom said. She and Rina stared at me expectantly.
“I . . . it’s just . . .” I stammered. I wanted to help, to relieve Rina of this pain that seemed to be stabbing her right in the soul. I wanted answers, too. But could I handle the pressure?
“You will be fine, Alexis,” Rina said. “You are very powerful. I trust you with this task.”
“Honey, you’re one of us now,” Mom said. “Sometimes that means doing things we don’t always want to do, things that push us beyond our comfort zone. We’re only asking you to try. We need you.” She placed her hands on my shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “If it becomes too much, you can leave. We’ll alert Owen to keep an eye on you, in case you need help.”
The mention of Owen’s name made my stomach take a dip. How could I rely on him when I felt so awkward just hearing his name?
“Tristan is aware, too,” Rina added. “I shared all of this with him at breakfast, and he immediately saw the best solution—your involvement. Either can help, if you need it.”
Tristan and Owen both were familiar with my breakdowns when the “voices” in my head became too much. They both knew how to distract me, how to give my mind something to “tune into” while blocking out everyone else—they’d helped me survive the long airplane flights, where there was no escape if the thoughts bombarded me. Surely Tristan could get me through this meeting. And Owen, too, if I could bring myself to let him.
“Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll do my best. But I make no promises.”
Chapter 2
Rina inclined her head in appreciation, and Mom gave my shoulder another squeeze, then Rina asked me to tell the men we were ready. Either more practice or another test—one I wasn’t sure I could pass. I had never reached out to multiple people at once or someone so far away before. Not on purpose, anyway. In fact, the other person had always been only a few feet away. I concentrated on the image of a black cloud in my head and pushed it outward. I extended it beyond the confines of my skull, while keeping it from enshrouding Mom or Rina—I would hear the thoughts of whoever came “within” the cloud. I continued pushing it out, beyond the room to search for Tristan, but the force was too much. My wall fell, and I heard a jumble of everyone’s thoughts. I sucked the cloud right back into my head and raised
the wall.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, shaking my head.
Rina’s brows furrowed for an instant, reminding me of the look she’d given me at breakfast, then calm returned to her face.
“Do not worry, dear,” she said, “you will learn. Right now, however, we do not have time.”
She fell silent while she “called” for Tristan, Solomon, and Owen.
“How far out can you go?” I asked her while we waited for them.
“If it is to pick up any random thoughts from anyone, a few kilometers, though without proper control, it can be quite painful if it is a crowded area. If it is to communicate directly with someone in particular, much farther, especially if I am very familiar with them. You can identify your mother, Dorian, or Tristan across a large, crowded room simply from a laugh or a single spoken word, yes? It is easier because you are attuned to their voices.”
I nodded with understanding. Then I thought I must have been using my gift all wrong, with the visual of the cloud—it wasn’t a good enough analogy. I sighed with frustration. This was the worst time to be confounded.
“Rina, I don’t think I can do this yet. I have too much to learn.”
“You can do this, Alexis,” she said. “You were able to save Tristan, even with all the Daemoni and Amadis soldiers there. You blocked them out and focused only on him, no?”
Only a few days ago, I’d protected Tristan from a Daemoni attack on his soul, partially by talking him through it telepathically. I had no clue how I pulled it off so well, though, how I was able to keep out everyone else and only talk to him, without anyone but Rina, Mom, and Owen aware of what I was doing.
“That is all you need to do during the meeting,” Rina said. “Hold your wall and focus on one mind at a time. Just listen. That is all.”
There was no more time to argue. Mom opened the door right as the men reached it. Tristan took my hand and “led” me for the flash—all I had to concentrate on was going where he was, since I’d never been to the destination before. There were other ways to flash somewhere new, but I hadn’t learned them yet.
