by Kristie Cook
“Listen to me,” he said. His eyes looked deeply into mine, his dark with no gold flecks, the green a murky swirl of pain and turmoil. “I need to tell you something. As soon as Lisa mentioned the stone, I remembered it all. I said I didn’t because I didn’t want to believe what it meant, and your knowing would only make things worse. I thought . . .” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. What I wanted. It’s obviously true.”
“What?” His defeated tone frightened me. How bad could it be?
“The stone, Lex, in the pendant. You and me—it only happened because of it. It’s always been the stone. It had been given to me as a young child.” His vision of a beautiful, golden-haired and golden-eyed woman showed in my mind, standing before us. From the perspective, I guessed Tristan to be very small. The golden woman held the triangular stone in her hand and pressed it against his chest until it sank below his skin and disappeared. “She told me I would know when the right one came—my true love—the stone would tell me. I was to remove the stone and give it to this person, my soul mate. Only her, the woman stressed. Anyone else would be dangerous, perhaps fatal. But my soul mate would love me forever. For hundreds of years, the right one never came along. Not until I met you. Only then did the stone warm, whenever I was with you.”
I saw the vision of him taking a scalpel to the skin over his heart, reaching in and removing the stone, then creating the pendant for me.
“Ooo-kaaay,” I said, trying not to be creeped out with where the stone came from. “You gave it to me. I am your soul mate. I do love you forever.”
He shook his head. “Only because of the stone.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. After all, he had to have been kidding. This had to be a joke. But what awful timing for such a joke, and looking at his face, I knew he was completely serious. My jaw dropped, and I sobered. “Have you lost your mind? My love has nothing to do with a stupid stone.”
He pressed his lips against my knuckles. “I wish I could believe that. I really do. But ever since we lost the pendant . . . we argue all the time.”
“We’ve been under a lot of pressure.”
“We’ve always been under a lot of pressure, and we never argued before. We always stood together. The stone united us.”
“Bullshit,” I spat. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even sound like yourself. What’s wrong with you?”
“Alexis, please don’t make this more difficult for me. I do love you, regardless of your real feelings. And I love the Amadis. You need to do what’s right for them, and I’m not right for them. I can’t give you a daughter. I can’t give you—or them—what they need.”
“Tristan—”
“Listen to me. The ones who thought we were meant for each other were wrong. Rina must have interpreted the Angels’ message incorrectly. I’m obviously not meant for you. I’m not the right one. We only believed it because of the stone.”
“Stop talking about the fucking stone!” I yelled. “My love for you has nothing to do with it. And I will not let them separate us!”
“Don’t you get it?” he growled. His eyes flashed as he lost all patience. “She only gave the stone to me so I could trick you into loving me.”
“You didn’t trick me. You can’t do that to someone’s feelings. You can’t do that to my heart. I know what I feel!”
“And it can’t be love, Alexis. Not true love. I. Can’t. Be. Loved.”
“Oh, no! No, no, no. You’re not doing this. You’re not destroying us because of your guilt.” I jabbed my finger into his chest. “Stop it now, Tristan. Because I love you whether you like it or not. I love you. No matter what you or some stupid woman says! Besides, there’s a prophecy. I’ve read it myself.”
“Prophecies aren’t specific enough. You can’t be certain it means you and me.”
“Then so what? Screw the prophecy. Screw the stone. There’s still you and me, and I feel what I feel. I won’t deny it. But are you? Are you denying our love? Do you love me?”
He growled again. “Of course. More than anything and everything combined. Which is why I’ve been so selfish. It’s wrong. I have to let you go, to do what’s best for everyone.” He pulled my arms to his chest and stepped forward so we both pressed against the bars. But our faces—our lips—couldn’t touch. “Do what’s right, Lex. In the end, it will be good. It’s what’s supposed to happen.”
Two hands grabbed my waist from behind and tugged. “No! Tristan, no! I don’t believe this! I’m not giving up on us!”
“Go, my love. Just go.” He lifted my hands to his lips again, but the guard jerked me out of Tristan’s grasp. “I love you, ma lykita.”
I love you, too, my sweet Tristan, I called back. Whether you believe it or not. I love you. Forever!
I didn’t know if he heard my last words. The guard had me outside by then, beyond the shield, which might have severed our mental connection. Without a word, Mom took my hand and pulled me around the side of the building. She stopped and wiped the tears from my cheeks.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I shook my head and more tears flowed. “He’s giving up, Mom. He thinks it’s best for the Amadis.”
Mom sighed and wrapped her arms around me. I cried into her shoulder for several minutes. Then she gently pushed me back and looked into my eyes. “The trial will start soon. I assume you want to be there?”
I nodded.
“Then you need to straighten up. You can’t be a mess, especially if they call on you as a witness. You need to look and act confident, not like a blubbering idiot.”
I nodded again and inhaled a deep, jagged breath. Mom cleaned my face off once more and ran her hands over my hair to straighten it. Once I could breathe without hitches, she led me to the front of the Council Hall and inside. The low thrum of many muted conversations carried out from the meeting room, but Mom turned the opposite way. We entered the smaller holding room where we’d come six months ago when I attended my first council meeting.
The atmosphere then had been tense, but had also held a bit of a homecoming buzz, making the room feel bright and inviting. Now, with only Rina there and no light flooding the room or conversation filling it, the room felt dark and cold, and I almost expected to see Rina shivering in her sleeveless silk gown. She leaned against the wall, peering out the same window I had looked out that day, seeing the same village that had awed me at the time—her village, her people. I could only see her profile silhouetted against the window, but the slump of her bare shoulders was expression enough. Her sadness felt almost palpable, hanging in the air as if a dark cloud had settled in the room.
She finally turned to us, and I’d never seen anyone look so haggard. Dark half-moons shaded the skin under her tired eyes, and her bottom lip looked swollen, as if she’d been chewing on it nonstop. Considering we regenerated every night while we slept, returning to near perfection each morning, her appearance was a result of only this morning’s stress. Either that or she hadn’t slept. Seeing us, though, her mouth pulled into a small smile, and her eyes brightened a tad.
I should have felt sorry for her, but when she said, “Alexis, darling,” and spread her arms out to welcome me with an embrace, something in me snapped. I took a step backward, pulling away from her.
“Don’t ‘Alexis, darling’ me,” I sneered. “I want nothing to do with you right now.”
Her arms fell to her sides, and her eyes opened wide. “Alexis . . .”
“You knew about this little girl—my daughter—all along. You knew! And you called me absurd for even thinking it possible.”
Rina shook her head. “No. I did not know at all.”
I guffawed with incredulity. “I can’t believe you. You’re still lying to me, after all this. I get it, Rina. She’s evil. Her Daemoni blood’s too strong. I understand that you—or someone—decided she needed to be taken away. I get it. But why do you stand here and lie to me now? Why did you lie to me before, when I first heard about her? Why would you make me feel
like . . . like such a failure?”
“Alexis, darling, no. That is not how it is.”
“Stop lying to me! You had a secret about my daughter. Tell me the truth for once. Please, Rina, just tell me the damn truth.”
She looked at her hands clasped in front of her, then up at me. Her answer came in my head, keeping her confession from powerful ears. “I do have a secret. A secret about your daughter. But it has nothing to do with this girl you found.” Rina paused, and I almost went off on her again. “My secret is actually very simple compared. Alexis . . . I never received a message from the Angels that you would have a daughter. That is my secret.”
My mouth fell open. That’s all? If that’s it, why wouldn’t you tell me sooner? All this time . . . I thought . . .
“I wanted to give you hope. So you would keep trying. I wanted to give the council hope so they would not give up on you and Tristan. I tried to make them believe for as long as I could.” Rina shook her head as she stared at the floor, then she spoke aloud, in barely more than a whisper. “But it only—how do you say—backfired? I have failed. I have failed you and Tristan. I have failed the Amadis. And now—”
“And now you’re still a liar.”
The door opened before she could respond, and Solomon stepped inside.
“The meeting hall is standing room only,” he said. “The council would like to meet here, in private, before the trial.”
“It matters little what I would like, no?” Rina asked with a sigh. Then she nodded, and Solomon opened the door wider. The council, all dressed in black robes, filed in.
Everyone stood in silence for a long moment, tension heavier and colder than a three-foot blanket of snow. The village clock tolled a single note, muffled through the window and stone walls. Rina looked at them all expectantly, but they remained silent.
“Armand, I believe you have something to say,” Solomon finally said, his baritone voice sounding tired, as if he, too, had been beaten down by the council.
“Yes, I do,” the short and stocky vampire said, taking two steps forward and turning to face the council who stood in a half-circle. As the chief of the Amadis police force, Armand had probably been the one who’d taken Tristan into custody. My mouth soured with hatred as he straightened his spine and cleared his throat before making his announcement. “I believe we need to temporarily remove Katerina Camilla Ames from the role of matriarch.”
Chapter 21
Mom and I both gasped, along with a few others. Rina’s face, however, remained emotionless.
“Don’t be absurd, Armand,” Charlotte said. “We can’t remove her from our rule. We’re ordained.”
“It is temporary only,” Armand said.
“Only for the trial?” asked Robin, the were-falcon. “There is a . . . conflict of interest.”
“Until further notice. Until she has returned to herself,” Armand said. “There has obviously been a lapse of judgment with the handling of Tristan and Alexis and this whole situation.”
Several conversations broke out among the council members, and I took the moment to silently ask Mom if they could actually get away with this. But she didn’t answer me. Mom? She ignored me, her full attention engrossed in one of the debates. Mom! I screamed to no avail. What the hell? Even if Rina had sourced that last conversation, I’d used my power with Tristan only ten minutes ago. How could Mom not hear me?
“Sophia will take her place, right?” someone asked.
“Of course she will,” Solomon answered. I couldn’t believe he actually went along with this and tried to listen to his thoughts for an explanation but I heard nothing. In fact, with all the mind signatures floating around, I couldn’t focus on a single one. I couldn’t hear anyone. The traitor must have learned about my gift and now blocked me, too. Shit.
“No one else—” someone started but was interrupted.
“Sophia can not take the seat,” Adolf, the German werewolf, declared. “Her actions do not prove her trustworthy.”
Mom spun on him. “You can’t name anyone else leader of the Amadis. It is against the Angels. Against God!”
Adolf stumbled over his English. “The Angels are apparently not caring about us with the moment. Neither of you are worth the position.”
Anger flared within me, but I bit back my temper.
“Then who?” someone demanded as I watched Rina exchange a look with Julia.
“Solomon,” someone else suggested.
“He’s no better than Sophia,” Armand said. “He’ll just be Rina’s puppet.”
Solomon hissed but otherwise didn’t respond. Rina and Julia shared another significant look.
“I propose Martin,” Julia said. I was surprised she didn’t say herself.
Mom freed Adolf from her glare and returned to my side. Apparently, she and I agreed with Julia, for once: if not Rina, Mom, or Solomon, Martin was the next best leader. Temporarily, of course. He had enough distance from our family that the council might accept him, but he and his family were close enough to us that he’d defend our wishes. I wondered if Rina had actually told Julia to suggest Martin.
If so, it meant Rina’s powers weren’t completely blocked like mine were. The traitor had made a point to silence me from everyone, both ways, allowing no communication at all. Who knew about my power? Who had Rina told? And how the hell did they get into my head to do this without my knowing?
“I second the motion,” Adolf said, “but not for the trial only. I move we appoint Martin to rule the council and the Amadis.”
With raised brows, Martin’s eyes bounced between Julia and Adolf as if he waited for them to say, “just kidding.”
“I doubt it possible,” he finally said when he realized they were serious. “Think about what you’re saying. Our leadership is not up for election, even if we did agree in a vote.”
They all spoke at once, challenging each other’s statements and talking over one another.
“Enough!” Rina said, actually sounding firm, like her old self. Everyone fell silent. “There will be no vote.”
I wondered, if she was able to quiet them like that, why she hadn’t stopped this sooner. She displayed complete control over herself and them, so why let the discussion go on? Apparently, it wasn’t lasting. She sighed wearily, and her voice came out heavy and tired.
“Martin is right. Only I can make the decision.” She held her hand up when others started to speak again. “I temporarily relinquish my rule to Martin Allbright. That is an order, Martin.”
With an exhalation of his breath, as if in resignation, he nodded, bowed his head to Rina, and walked to the door. Without a word from anyone, he led the council, with Rina, Mom, and I at the end of their procession, down a long corridor, toward the rear of the Council Hall, not to the front of the grand meeting room as we’d gone before. A thick and heavy silence weighed down on us, as if trying to press us into the stone floor.
I couldn’t make sense of what happened—the council trying to oust Rina and Rina giving up her authority voluntarily. I half-expected lightning bolts to shoot from the sky and strike down the traitor and her sheep for taking this too far, beyond their boundaries. Surely the Angels didn’t want this. How could they even allow it? My understanding of the Amadis, the council, and the Angels’ role and rule in our society had flipped over, whirled, and twisted into a senseless pretzel. How could I be devoted to these . . . these politicians . . . whose values and beliefs obviously meant so little? They didn’t seem so loyal to God and the Angels now. Why should I be loyal to them? How could Tristan be so adamant about it?
My heart felt nothing but a burning rage toward them now. If it weren’t Tristan on trial, I would have left with Dorian right then, not caring what they did anymore. I wanted to forget my position and leave the Amadis forever. They weren’t worthy of my allegiance.
But it was Tristan on trial.
We stopped in the dark hall as Martin, up ahead, paused in a doorway. The room beyond, which had been buzzin
g with voices, fell silent. As we filed into the back of the grand meeting hall, I thought at first we had come to a completely different room. But, no, it was the same one; only the arrangements had changed.
The King Arthur’s table had been removed and the throne-like chairs moved to this end, placed behind a long table on a raised platform. Rows of chairs, a center aisle splitting them in two, faced the dais, all of them filled—well, they would be, once everyone sat down. More Amadis lined the walls, and the crowd seemed to flow out the doors. The warrior angel statues—one above the doors and one above the head table—looked fiercer than ever, their anger directed at us.
The council members paraded behind the table to their chairs. Solomon, who preceded Rina, took the last one at the table, meaning Rina, Mom, and I would not be joining the council at the head of the room. Instead, Martin motioned toward a line of three chairs against the wall, perpendicular to the dais, between the council and the crowd, as if we were the jury. But I already knew we’d have no say in the outcome of this trial.
Once Rina, Mom, and I sat down, everyone else sat, too, showing at least some kind of respect. Then Armand raised his hand and flicked it, as if hailing a waiter. Everyone turned toward the doors, and I did, too. I held back a gasp as two guards sandwiched Tristan between them and brought him down the center aisle. The urge to run to him, to throw my arms around him, to blast the guards and the council with electricity and then run away with him, nearly overcame me. But the look on Tristan’s face stopped that thought.
He barely glanced at me, his eyes hard, and quickly looked away. His face remained stony and indifferent as the guards led him to stand before the council. I love you, I thought as he took his place. But he didn’t respond. Of course, he couldn’t hear me. No one could.
Nothing bound him, at least, nothing I could see, but his hands were gloved in some strange, metallic material that must have blocked his powers. But the extra precautions weren’t necessary. Although he stood straight and confident and kept all emotions from his face, he would never fight them. Like Rina, he would submit to them. As a true Amadis should do, he’d go along with whatever they decided. He really had given up.
