Dangerous Devotion

by Kristie Cook

  “Because your tricks are amazing, and people would always want to watch them,” Tristan said. “And some people, very bad people, would want to take you away from us because of them.”

  I gathered Dorian into a hug. “We don’t ever want that to happen. We want you all to ourselves! Okay?”

  Dorian giggled as I nuzzled my nose against his neck. “Okay. But don’t worry, Mom. If anyone tries to take me away, I’ll kick them in the knees and punch them in the balls.”

  “Dorian!” I said, unable to help the laugh. Then I tickled him, making him squeal. “I don’t know why anyone would want you. You’re such an ornery little man!”

  Sasha bounded over to us, barking as Tristan and I both tickled Dorian. She jumped in circles around us, yipping and wagging her tail, just like a normal dog.

  And, I supposed, if someone were watching us, they might see us all as a normal little family, playing and laughing together on the beach as if we didn’t have a care in the world. A bright image I would hold onto as we carried on into the dark days ahead.

  Read the fourth book of the Soul Savers series, Dark Power. Or keep going for an excerpt.

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  Books By Kristie Cook

  Soul Savers

  A Demon’s Promise

  An Angel’s Purpose

  Dangerous Devotion

  Dark Power

  Sacred Wrath

  Unholy Torment

  Fractured Faith

  Genesis: A Soul Savers Novella

  Awakened Angel: A Soul Savers Novella

  * * *

  Supernatural Chronicles: The Wolves (A Soul Savers Tie-In Novella)

  * * *

  Wonder: A Soul Savers Collection of Holiday Short Stories & Recipes

  The Book of Phoenix

  The Space Between

  The Space Beyond

  The Space Within

  About the Author

  Kristie Cook is a lifelong, award-winning writer in various genres, primarily paranormal romance and contemporary fantasy in the New Adult and Adult age categories. Her internationally bestselling Soul Savers series has 13 books planned, as well as several companion novellas. Over 1 million Soul Savers books have been downloaded, hitting Amazon’s, B&N.com’s, and iBooks’ Top 100 Paid lists.

  Kristie has also written The Book of Phoenix trilogy, a New Adult paranormal romance series that includes The Space Between, The Space Beyond, and The Space Within. The full trilogy is available now.

  Besides writing, Kristie enjoys reading, cooking, traveling around the world, RVing, and riding on the back of a motorcycle. She has lived in ten states, but currently calls Southwest Florida home with her husband, a beagle, and a puggle. On good days, you might find her hanging out with her three adult sons or sitting on the beach with a drink in hand and toes in the sand.

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  I love to hear from and connect with readers. Please don't be shy.

  * * *

  Email: kristie@kristiecook.com

  Author's Website & Blog: http://www.KristieCook.com

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  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I thank God and His Son. You have truly blessed me. Let me count the ways . . .

  Shawn, for being there when no one else was, in all the different ways that you have. My family—Zakary, Austin, and Nathan, Mom, Dad and Keena, Terry, Grandma (RIP)—for your love, support and understanding.

  Author Brenda Pandos, your friendship means the world to me. We got it now (a little too much—haha!). This crazy journey brought us together, and I am truly blessed to continue on it with you. Thank you for your prudent picking apart of my story and my writing and for encouraging me to make it better. Thank you for all the extra help and, most of all, for your virtual shoulder when I needed it.

  Dani Cooper, my sexy model, for bringing Alexis to life, and Regina Wamba at MaeIDesign.com, photographer and best ever cover designer, thank you! I can’t stop drooling over these covers. Also thank you to Nadège Richards at Inkstain IBD for the beautiful print interiors. Italia Gandolfo, my super-agent, and the team at Red Coat PR.

  Author Heather McCorkle, Author Lani Woodland, Tina Moss, Judy Spelbring, Jennifer Nunez, for your time, patience and wonderful insight that has made this book shine. Heather Call and Patti Oaks, for taking your time to scrutinize each word and phrase. Chrissi Jackson and Lisa Adams, thank you for your help in getting this crazy ball rolling.

  Book bloggers around the world, for all that you do for authors and readers. Thank you for taking the time to read my books and write your reviews. A special shout-out to Mindy, my favorite book whore and pimp, and to Lisa and Jessica, for your friendship. You all are much appreciated. Thank you also to all of Kristie’s Warriors for all that you do.

  Last but certainly not least, I am blessed to have the best readers and fans a girl could ask for. Thank you for making my morning each day when I open my inbox to find your heartfelt fan mail or when I discover a new review posted online. You people ROCK!

  Excerpt From Dark Power

  Just breathe.

  Something I shouldn’t have to remind myself to do, but at the moment, the task was easier said than done. Pushing the air out of my tight lungs proved simple enough, but in through the nose was a different story, as each inhale brought with it an eye-watering fetor of body odor, liquor, cigarette smoke, and vomit pooled somewhere in the dark corners. I could handle the stench, as well as the flashing lights, the pulsating music, and a sea of Norman bodies dry-humping to the beat, but making it all exponentially worse were the drunken mind signatures, swirling and gyrating and pinging all over the place.

  A nightclub in the middle of a seaside tourist village was probably the last place a new telepath should be hanging out. Yet here I was.

  I hadn’t been off the Amadis Island for eight months, since the trial last September, and didn’t particularly want to be here either. I preferred to be in one of my usual spots, next to either Rina or Lilith, both still comatose from the dark magic inflicted by Kali the sorceress. But my Amadis power seemed to be doing neither of them much good, and Vanessa had recently been seen in this small town, which meant something was going on.

  The Daemoni simply didn’t hang out here—not anywhere on this little key in the Aegean Sea that was the Amadis Island’s closest neighbor. Too many Amadis passed through here on their way to and from our Island, and many came for a day or weekend of mainstreaming without wandering too far away from the safety of our haven. So Vanessa being here was perplexing—as well as bold and stupid on her part. Except the vampire wasn’t stupid, which meant she wouldn’t be here alone for long. The Daemoni seemed to be planning an ambush, and our current strategy was for me to hear her thoughts and learn their plan. She’d also stolen something precious from me, and I needed it back.

  Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to find her mind signature tonight, so here I was, hoping to pick up a thought of someone who’d seen her today or knew where she stayed. The sensory overload made my head pound and set my teeth on edge. The
packs of women not so discreetly waiting their turns to hit on my husband certainly didn’t help my mood.

  Tristan’s long and hard body leaned against the bar on the other side of the room from me, blue and green lights from the dance floor flashing over his perfect features. An American girl in a sundress and stilettos twirled her red hair around her fingers as she and a similarly dressed brunette talked to him. More small groups of women stood nearby at the bar and tables, stealing glances his way to see if he’d dismissed these two yet. After all, he’d been dismissing foolish women practically falling at his feet all night, but for some reason, each newcomer thought she’d be the exception.

  His eyes slid over to me, and he smirked. I fought the ridiculously immature but overwhelming urge to stick my tongue out. Instead, I turned away from him and gave my full attention to the intoxicated Greek god offering to buy me a drink. Well, I tried my best to give it to him, but I could barely provide more than a forced smile while my mind scanned the thoughts of the women talking to Tristan. If they knew anything about the vampire-bitch, they weren’t thinking about her. In fact, their minds were pretty focused on how they’d be willing to give Tristan a threesome if that’s what it took to get him into bed. No wonder he was smirking.

  Just breathe, I reminded myself again. It was your idea to separate. This is your own doing. Right. I needed to focus. Even if I didn’t find Vanessa, scanning mind signatures and thoughts in this kind of environment provided good practice, which I needed.

  I’d acquired the telepathy during my Ang’dora a year ago and fought it and its intricacies for a while. Well, I still had some issues, but I experienced a big breakthrough last September when I protected Tristan from being banished for betrayal and saved the Amadis by exposing the real traitor. I’d been trying ever since to embrace the gift, but the only people I could practice on were the people in the Amadis village, and they were nothing compared to this. Especially since the Amadis knew I could hear their thoughts, so they kept them subdued. Here, thoughts exploded from inebriated minds like fireworks, some bright and cheery and others simply loud and obnoxious.

  I could hardly fathom how all these people could be here partying it up with everything else going on in the world. Of course, they didn’t know what I did—the increased homicide rates, animal attacks, and missing persons reports weren’t solely a result of depressive economies and political unrest as the media told them, but rather, the workings of the Daemoni. Normans only joked about the world going to Hell, not realizing how right they were. They hadn’t attended funeral after funeral as I had in the last few months.

  Or, perhaps, they had. Perhaps they sought to forget it all in the alcohol, drugs, dancing, and sex. Perhaps if I delved deeper into their thoughts, beneath the blanket of intoxication, I’d find they were on vacation here to escape their own terrible realities. Escapism was a part of human nature, after all, and the people here had apparently found what they needed.

  I didn’t delve, though. Invading people’s private thoughts was one of the issues I still had with this ability. Luckily, those thoughts didn’t automatically blast in my mind, or I’d never be able to live with myself. As an introvert, I needed my head to be my own and couldn’t imagine a constant party going on inside it. That would have been so much worse than the situation I was in now, which was bad enough.

  Skimming along the surfaces of tourists’ minds to listen for the smallest hint of Vanessa’s whereabouts, I concluded no one else was suffering a near anxiety attack like I was. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying the loud music, the strobe lights, and the press of the crowd around them.

  I accepted the drink from the beautiful man with the dark but glassed-over eyes, and threw it back, grimacing at the ouzo’s burn as it slid down my throat, wishing this would be the shot that would dull the senses. But, of course, it wouldn’t. I couldn’t get drunk. Unlike the Normans, I couldn’t find my own escape.

  “You okay?” Tristan silently asked me.

  I clenched my jaw, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to give in, either. Don’t worry about me.

  “As if I could stop. I always worry about you.”

  I stared directly at him and all the girls surrounding him, particularly the one he smiled at even as he thought his concern toward me.

  Well, don’t, I thought to him as I drew in a steadying breath. I can take care of myself.

  “Are you sure?” he asked precisely when the guy in front of me asked me to dance. I nodded, although I truly just wanted to get out of here. “Alexis, don’t think—”

  I never heard the rest of his sentence—what he didn’t want me to think. The handsome stranger thought I’d nodded to him and had me by the hand, stumbling over his own feet as he dragged me to the dance area. As soon as we stepped onto the sunken floor, his hands were on my hips, pulling me close to him. For a brief moment, I forgot about all the mind signatures, the twirling lights, and the pounding music, and could only think about how strange it was to be that close to a man other than Tristan.

  But only for a brief moment. Before I could even do anything, a growl ripped through the music—or maybe just through my head—and Tristan suddenly stood between the guy and me, his back to me and his arms out protectively. The drunk guy swung without even looking, and Tristan caught his wrist in mid-air. With the pain of the grip, the guy finally looked up into Tristan’s face. His eyes grew wide, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. Without so much as an apology to me, he carefully stepped away from the dance floor.

  Tristan turned to me and wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me to him as he swayed to the music. I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

  “You can talk to girls all night, but I can’t dance once?”

  His nostrils flared. “There’s a difference. His hands were all over you.”

  “I had things under control.”

  He leaned closer to me and growled in my ear. “I didn’t like it.”

  I stepped back. I should have been warmed by his concern, but his eyes were alit with real anger and his tone acidic.

  “I told you. I can take care of myself.” I added silently, He’s only a Norman, after all.

  Tristan cocked his head and considered me for a long moment, then jerked his hands off my hips.

  “Of course you can,” he snapped before walking off.

  I stared after him, clenching my jaw to keep it from falling open. Warrior Boy seemed to have lost his cool. Which wasn’t, well, cool, considering the circumstances.

  Tristan!

  I stomped off the dance floor and toward the front door of the club, expecting him to follow me, but he sauntered back to his place at the bar amidst all the girls who now looked at me like wild cats about to pounce. I almost gave in to the urge to lift my lip and snarl at them as Tristan had done to my Greek god, but I didn’t. Only because something else caught my attention as I reached the door. The mind signature I’d been searching for all night.

  Tristan, come on. Game’s over. Found her. I looked over my shoulder to see him still leaning against the bar. Are you coming?

  He shrugged without looking away from the blonde who’d moved in on him. “You can take care of yourself.”

  I turned to glare at him, but he still ignored me. What was wrong with him? It had been my idea to go in separately, to appear as though we were single so the Normans would be more likely to talk to us, but Tristan was taking it too far. I wanted to clock him, knock some sense into him. Vanessa’s mind signature was on the move, though, and I didn’t want to lose her. So I rushed outside, knowing Tristan would come to his senses and follow, while mentally reaching out for the other nearby Amadis. They were all on the other side of the island, keeping their distance, as was part of the plan.

  Vanessa must not have sensed me yet, because she didn’t move toward the club, as expected. Too many people stood outside to see me flash, so I jogged down the street toward her mind signature as it continued to slowly move away from me, as if she were
taking an evening stroll at two in the morning. Probably looking for her midnight snack.

  I tried following her signature to her thoughts, but although she remained in my range, my mind struggled to grasp them. My head physically hurt from the effort, probably because of the bombardment it had already suffered in the nightclub, but I pushed harder, desperate to discover her plan.

  But I didn’t latch on fast enough. Several new mind signatures popped into existence about a half-mile away. All of them Daemoni.

  Vanessa’s mind prickled, but she didn’t move. She remained frozen in place. I didn’t wait to find out what she was thinking. If the Daemoni attacked the nightclub—the only place on the island with so many Normans in one spot at this time of night—they’d have to go through Tristan and me first.

  Tristan, they’re here! I yelled at him as I ran toward the club.

  I stopped at the door, waiting for him to come out, and wondering if I should somehow get the outside loiterers indoors to safety. My heart pounded, but rather than feeling scared as I always had in the past, I actually felt excitement as the adrenaline pumped through my veins. I hadn’t been in a fight in ages—in fact, I wore my leathers and carried my dagger for the first time tonight since last September. I palmed the hilt of my cloaked dagger, and a burst of power surged through me, as if the weapon knew it was finally released from its spot in the boring closet and returned to where it belonged: in my hand. For the first time ever, I felt like the warrior I was supposed to be, every bit as powerful as Tristan.

  But that didn’t mean I didn’t want him with me. So why did I sense him still inside, as if nothing was going on out here?