Devotion (30 page)

"Amadis," Tristan and Owen said at the same time.

They could sense the person on the other side of the door, but they could only identify people they knew, usually by scent for Tristan and magical qualities for Owen. So they both looked at me, and I felt for the mind signature.

"She's a witch. And she brought us a cake as a welcome gift. She wants to be friends."

Tristan and Owen followed me to the door. I didn't know if it was to protect me, or because I said "cake."

A pretty blond stood on the other side of the door, with the biggest eyes and boobs I've ever seen. Okay, maybe not the biggest boobs, but they were disproportionately large on her slender frame–too big not to notice. I peered at the guys on each side of me, smiling inside at what I expected to see. Tristan surprised me–he stared at the cake, actually. Owen, though, was no surprise. He stared above the cake in her arms … and not at her hazel eyes. I was thankful for my mental wall, because I didn't want to know what ran through his mind at the moment.
Poor guy. We really need to find someone for him
.

She smiled warmly and held the cake out toward us. "Hi, I'm Blossom. Welcome to our neighborhood. Well, I live over on Captiva, but close enough."

Owen continued staring, and Tristan took the cake from her and carried it off to the kitchen. I shook my head with embarrassment.

"Come on in, Blossom," I said, stepping aside and purposely knocking Owen out of the way. "Sorry about these guys. They're just … uh …"

"Guys?" Blossom said.

"Yeah. Exactly." I held my hand out. "I'm Alexis."

She pushed my hand out of the way and gave me a hug. "I know who you are. Oh, I guess I'm supposed to curtsy."

"Oh, no! Please don't," I begged. "Really. A hug is fine."

"Yeah, hugs are perfect," Owen said from behind me. I jabbed my elbow into his ribs.

Blossom eyed him. "Hmm … maybe if you're good, I'll give you a hug goodbye."

Owen became a perfect gentleman. He introduced himself and Tristan, then helped Tristan bring plates and silverware out to the balcony so we could enjoy Blossom's cake. I liked Blossom. She gave Tristan a once-over, then looked at me with a "nice catch" expression, but she didn't ogle or drool as most women did around him. After hearing an unusual thump in Dorian's room and checking on him, I brought him out to meet our guest, and she proceeded to rave about how great he was–the poor kid fell hard with his first crush–and I beamed with pride. And once I took a bite of her heavenly chocolate cake, I liked her even more.

"Oh, my! This is the best cake I've ever eaten." Part of me wanted to devour the whole piece on my plate and then the rest of the cake itself, and part of me wanted to savor every single crumb. I hadn't had good sex since … since Australia, but I thought the cake could be a perfect replacement. It was orgasmic. My "mmm's" and "ooh's" that kept escaping my lips with each bite were met with "that" look from Tristan.

While we ate, Blossom told us all about the colony–which business owners were Amadis, where they hung out at night, how they managed their secrets, etc. She said they were a big, happy family … until we came to town.

"There have been threats, and we heard about attacks. The colony will fight for you if they have to," she said, "but they really don't want it to come to that. They like their lifestyle here. It's comfortable and laid back. The tourists aren't crazy drunks looking for trouble and attracting Daemoni attention. We want to keep it that way."

"The Daemoni don't know we're here," I said. "We chose this place because it's safest for us
and
the people surrounding us."

She tilted her head. "You're like a catch-22. No one else can protect us better in these times … but, well, we probably wouldn't need your protection if you weren't here in the first place."

"We'll keep them away from the colony," Tristan promised. "We want to call this place home, too."

Blossom nodded, but she didn't seem entirely convinced. I couldn't blame her–if I were her, I wouldn't want me living nearby either, even when we were five miles from the colony. By the time she left, I didn't know if she still wanted to be friends, and I didn't check her thoughts to find out. If any friendship were to develop, I wasn't going to start it by being a snoop.

I had the same dream that night as I'd had every night since visiting Lisa, and the repetition began to annoy me. I'd always been a dreamer before the
Ang'dora,
and often my dreams were meaningful. It was part of being a writer, I'd always thought. But since the
Ang'dora
, I'd hardly dreamt at all, and when I did, they were random and vague. Now I dreamt every night about faeries, my pendant and Vanessa, endlessly chasing and searching but never quite grasping any of them. I woke up frustrated. The dreams meant something, and there was only one person who, supposedly, had the answers. If only I could get him to talk.

I opened the door the next morning, wishing the furniture deliverymen waited on the other side, but I already knew Owen stood on the front steps.

"It's your mom," he said as my new iPhone rang. The phone was an early anniversary gift from Tristan, who was playing with his own at this exact moment. I glanced at the number on the phone's screen.

"Are you psychic and not telling me?" That wasn't the first time he'd done that.

"No. I just got off the phone with my mom." He walked past me to the kitchen. Apparently, he hadn't bought his own food yet.

"Hey, Mom," I answered.

"Hi, honey. How's your new house?"

I glanced around. "Pretty empty right now, but our furniture should be here any minute."

"I won't keep you then. Did you happen to buy a bed for the guest room?"

Uh-oh
. "No. Why?"

"That's okay. I can sleep with Dorian or something. We'll work it out."

"Are you coming here?" I tried to sound excited, but my emotions were mixed. I missed her, but I still had to wonder whose side she was on.

"Charlotte and I will be there next Friday. We have an investigation into a witch who's learned how to enhance breasts, and she might be planning to sell that as a service. We'll stay for the weekend. Char can stay with Owen, of course."

So we'd both be buying guest beds.

"That's great, but Tristan and I might not be here. We're going … out of town."

I couldn't tell her where or why; she'd disapprove and probably try to stop us. Tristan decided Owen's phone calls and investigations weren't enough–we'd be paying a personal visit to either the witch coven or the wolf pack. He just hadn't decided which one yet.

"Out of town? Do you really think that's a good idea?" Mom paused, and I should have known not to try to keep anything from her. "Alexis, you need to get off this wild goose chase! Until the Daemoni settle down, you're endangering your lives every time you go out in the world."

"They'll never settle down. You know that as well as I do. In the meantime, there's a girl out there … maybe our daughter–"

She cut me off. "We'll talk about it when I get there. In fact, we have a lot to talk about. See you next week."

"Love you, Mom," I muttered, but the line went dead.

I sat next to Tristan on the living room floor and watched him download finance and stock-tracking apps onto his phone.

"Great timing on their part," he said, referring to Mom and Charlotte.

"Yeah, I know." I sighed.

"No, it is good timing. They can stay with Dorian, so Owen can come with us."

"Sweet!" Owen called from the kitchen.

That improved things. Owen and his shield were always good to have along, but until now, we thought he'd have to stay home to protect Dorian.

"What do you think about Blossom?" Tristan asked, his head still bent over his phone.

"She's hot," Owen chimed in.

I ignored him. "She seems cool. Why?"

"I was wondering how much we can trust her. It wouldn't hurt to have a witch along with us."

"That means telling her everything," I pointed out.

"Not necessarily. I'll think about it more, but if she comes around, check her mind out."

I made a face.

"For me? Please?" He grinned and winked. I must have nodded while the fog clouded my brain because he thanked me.

"If I do that, then you owe me," I said when my head cleared.

"I don't have to owe you, because you can have whatever you want from me.
Any
thing for you, my love."

I rolled my eyes–I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be so easy. "Then tell me what Lisa was talking about. About my pendant."

He scowled. "Except that. I told you, I have no idea."

"I think you do, especially if you do a little digging." When he didn't reply, I tapped my head with my finger. "I can find out from you if I really wanted to."

He narrowed his eyes. His voice came out low. "You wouldn't."

"I really don't want to, Tristan, but I feel like this might be important. You can't think of anything? What about what you were told? Surely, you remember that. You have a perfect memory."

"It's irrelevant," he growled. "Just bullshit that we're not going to bother ourselves with."

"So you do know." It wasn't a question. He knew and refused to tell me. Usually, I'd let it go, not wanting him to relive any pain or guilt from his previous life, but unlike his other memories, it seemed as though this one had to do with
us
, not only him.

He jumped to his feet. "Furniture's here."

I heard the truck about a mile down the road.

"You said anything for me," I pushed.

"Not this! It's not worth it, Alexis. Trust me."

He strode toward the door, and I sprang up. "You can't keep secrets from me, Tristan!"

He turned on me, his face hard. "You'd really invade my private thoughts?"

"No! I meant we're married, that we're in this together. We can't survive with secrets. We need to
trust
each other."

His face softened, and he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm sorry." He kissed the top of my head. "But I do have secrets, my love, things you really don't want to know."

"If they have to do with us, with our daughter, then I
do
want to know. Anything that might help."

He sighed. "It won't help,
ma lykita
. It'll only make things worse. Please trust me on this."

The doorbell rang, and I had to let it go. For today, anyway, because the rest of the day was full of furniture deliveries and cable installers, then Tristan setting up the television and Internet service. And, finally alone with only Dorian sleeping soundly in the other room, we were able to make love. Another reason for choosing to live away from the colony was that I didn't have to worry about anyone hearing us–with their sharp ears or minds. Only Normans surrounded us, so if my thoughts reached out farther than our property, they'd only think they were having good dreams. We couldn't get too crazy–the sounds of our bedroom being destroyed would wake Dorian–but we still broke our new bed. Owen would have to fix it, and I had to brace myself for the embarrassment … but it was worth it.

"Hey, Mom," Dorian said sleepily the next morning, snuggling between Tristan and me on the floor, Sasha under his arm. "What happened to your bed?"

Um …

"Mom was jumping on the bed and got out of control," Tristan answered with a grin.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing … because it was very near the truth.

***

Blossom came over nearly every day with another to-die-for cake. She usually dropped the cake off and chatted for a few minutes, but once the following week, with the guys out on the beach, she stayed, and we had some girl time. It was strange for me. Besides Mom, I hadn't hung out with a female since I was ten years old.