Devotion (45 page)

"
Ma lykita
." The loveliest voice in the world carved a gash into my soul.

Tears stung my eyes just to hear Tristan's voice. I didn't move, didn't respond, afraid of him. Of myself. His weight shifted, and I knew he reached out to touch me. I pulled my ball tighter. He let out a heavy sigh. "You don't believe me."

"Believe what?" I asked. "You haven't even tried to defend yourself. Not to me."

"What? Do you think it was Rina who I tried so hard to convince that it's not true? That it's absolutely impossible? I was telling
you
, Lexi. You're the only one who matters."

I finally lifted my head and rested my chin on my knees, staring straight forward at the wall. Not allowing myself to look his way. "If you mean with your thoughts, I can't hear anyone. I'm blocked. But I've seen the results myself. There really is no doubt." My voice cracked on the last word as my eyes flicked to the paper from Tristan's guy on the floor.

He leaned over to retrieve it, and several moments of silence passed as he studied the results. He let it fall to the floor again as he leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands, still not saying a word. Then he moved closer to me. His large hand landed softly on my head, smoothed down my hair and rested on my back. I began to shake uncontrollably. He wrapped his other arm around me and pulled me to his chest. I couldn't bring myself to stop him.
Just one last time. Feel him one more time.
The dam finally broke, and I could no longer stop the sobs.

"Lexi," he murmured as he tightened his arms around me. "My Lexi. Please listen to me. Everything has changed now, I understand, but not my love for you. Whatever happens, I need you to know I've always been faithful to you. Only you, Lex. It's always been only you, my love."

"Then–" My breath hitched with the sobs. "Then how can it be?"

"I honestly have no idea. The traitor must be blocking me, too, because I see no options, no possible answers except the obvious. But it's
not
true. I promise you that. Please, Lexi, believe me."

Each pleading word, pointed with his despair, pierced my heart. I finally forced myself to look up at his beautiful face, and as soon as I did, as soon as I looked into those hazel eyes begging for my trust, I
wanted
to have faith in him. But …

"I don't know what to believe anymore," I said.

The pain in his eyes nearly killed me. He took my face in his hands, and I didn't pull away, unable to hurt him anymore. He leaned his forehead against mine.

"I understand. You need to shield your heart." His thumb stroked my face, and I wanted so badly to lean into his palm. "But open your mind, Lex, and use it. Find out the truth. Promise me you'll try. I understand that you can't love me, but I can't bear the thought of leaving you like this, believing their lies."

So I should believe yours?
I couldn't bring myself to say it. Especially because I
wanted
to believe him. I'd made the decision years ago to take his word over everyone else's, but that was when his word meant something. When I thought he and I were on the same side, together, as one.

The door opened and Charlotte stepped inside. "It's time."

"
No
," we said at once, desperation filling both of our voices. Desperation to believe. To be believed.

"I'm sorry, but they're ready."

The two warlock-guards pushed past Charlotte and each grabbed one of Tristan's arms. Before he stood on his own, he leaned forward and brushed his lips across my forehead, leaving a trail of electricity under my skin.

"Use your head. If not for me, Lex, do it for our son. For the Amadis. You have the advantage,
ma lykita
. Use it." He didn't fight the guards as they pushed him toward the door and out of the room.

Away from me.

Perhaps forever.

I didn't remember moving, but I suddenly found myself standing. Standing in an empty, gloomy room alone. All alone. A feeling I'd lived with for over seven years. Something I thought I'd never have to do again, yet here I was. But I wanted to be alone.
Needed
it. Distant noises thrummed from the hall and the meeting room, setting my teeth on edge. I couldn't deal with being in that noisy crowd again. I couldn't stand seeing the smug faces of the council.

I'd trusted them easier than I'd ever trusted anyone. I'd been convinced years ago, when I first learned of the Amadis, they were the good guys. The Daemoni were evil. The Amadis were good. If you were Amadis, I could trust you. Black and white. I'd never been so wrong. Like anything in life, this covert world was colored with grays. Nothing–nobody–could be trusted for how they appeared on the surface. How could I ever be loyal to those I couldn't trust? I wanted nothing to do with them, with my position, with the Amadis at all. I wanted out.

"Alexis, they're about to start," Mom said from the doorway.

"I'm not going back in there. I've heard enough."

"You don't want to hear Martin's final decision?"

I shook my head. "What does it matter? What do I care what happens?"

Mom moved into the room, and I took a step backward. She sighed. "You don't believe that. You know it matters to you. Whatever has happened in the past, you love him. You care what happens to him."

I shook my head again, but my eyes stung. She pursed her lips together and stared at me for a long moment. Then she left. And my eyes burned hotter.
I do care.
I do love him. No matter what.
Besides, he was the father of my son. Even if I no longer cared about the Amadis or their future, I did need to hear Martin's decision about Tristan.

I hurried down the corridor to the grand room, which sounded as though an angry mob filled it. Rina and Mom were just entering, and I slid into step behind Mom. People shouted accusations and questions, not noticing as the three of us came inside and took our seats.

"The Ames women must lead us!"

"We're nothing without them! We'll collapse!"

"Ms. Katerina, why did you step down? How could you abandon us?"

"How can you rule, Martin? You aren't of Amadis blood! You're not ordained to rule!"

"We are here for the trial of Tristan Knight, not Katerina Ames or this council," Solomon said over the crowd, somewhat quieting them. "We will finish this trial, then we will discuss the future of the Amadis."

"Get this over with! We should be out there fighting!"

"Yeah! We should be fighting Daemoni, not each other!"

"But we have no future without a matriarch!"

I didn't know where to take my gaze. I avoided the front of the room, definitely not wanting to see the council. I didn't want to look into the faces of the angry crowd either. My eyes kept pulling toward Tristan, but I knew looking at him would only bring more tears. So I looked up, over the crowd's heads to stare at a point on the wall. Across the room from us, a little higher than the rest of the heads, bobbed a familiar blond one.

Owen's eyes caught mine for a second, then he looked away, as if unable to bear the sight of me. He stood against the wall with a woman on each side of him, one blue-haired and the other purple–Jessica and Lisa, the faeries.
Is this his defense? Trying to show he's already in love with someone else–two somebody elses?
He couldn't believe that would work. It would only be infatuation, faeries creating lust, not love. Everyone would see that.

Not that he looked in love. The crowd must have diluted the faeries' influence because he didn't have the same expression as he'd had at their cottage in the Tennessee woods. Instead, he looked composed and … calculating. As if he had something up his sleeve and simply waited for the right time to reveal it.
Did Rina send him after the faeries? But why?

I followed Owen's gaze to the old woman who'd cared for Lilith, sitting not too far from Owen and the faeries. Her face was drawn tight, making her look older. I didn't remember her presence earlier and wondered why they'd brought her in. I could only figure that after Tristan's trial, they planned to question her about Lilith–their relationship, why she was raising her, what she might know about Lilith's mother. That thought made me physically cringe. Did I want to stay for that? I might learn something that would help me to believe Tristan … or I might not and instead subject myself to even more agony.

Nona, as Lilith had called her, was the only person sitting in the room, besides the council members and us. Everyone else stood, and as I finally looked at the crowd, I found a variety of expressions, but all of them full of passion. Their spirits animated with the desire to fight or to protect, with rage or with worry, with hate or with love. Some had pointy ears and extra facial hair, as if they were about to lose control over their human forms. Others' fangs showed, brought out by the anger and fear in the room.

"What about the Daemoni?" someone called out, the voice spiked with terror.

"Yeah! They're attacking right now and we're doing nothing. They'll win!" A voice agitated with the desire to fight.

"What about our children?"

"They have no future now," a woman wailed. "What will happen to them?"

 "What about the unprotected humans? The innocents?" Owen yelled louder than anyone, and many shouts rallied with him.

I saw then what Mom must have seen years ago, what council members now realized. Owen could become a great leader. He might try to push things a little too far, as Rina had once pointed out, but that was a sign of courage. He never overreacted to anything, but was passionate about his beliefs. And as seen now, he could control a crowd, keep them focused on the right things. He was definitely strong and powerful enough. No wonder he was their next choice as the father of my daughter.

But I could never be with him, even after what Tristan had apparently done. It'd still have to be by in vitro …

Oh! Oh, my god.

That's it!

My breath caught as the obvious slammed into me twofold. Solomon's words echoed in my mind:
The best stories–and the best lies–are woven around the truth. It is up to us to discover which is which
. The traitor knew about this girl with Tristan's DNA and had intertwined that thread of truth into her lies to authenticate her claims. This wasn't Tristan's doing. He hadn't orchestrated the Amadis' downfall.

"Quiet!" Solomon bellowed once again.

"Martin, do you have a decision?" Armand asked, seizing the opportunity of silence.

Before Martin could answer, I jumped to my feet.

"Wait! You can't prove Tristan's betrayal with those results," I said. Everyone stared at me with raised eyebrows, including Tristan. I took two steps forward. "In vitro fertilization. The Daemoni could have taken–" I swallowed my embarrassment and pushed forward, holding Tristan's gaze as I spoke. "They could have taken Tristan's semen and created this girl without his knowledge."

Tristan's face showed a flicker of relief … or affirmation … or something.
Could I be right?
If he'd told me the truth–that he had no idea how Lilith could be his daughter–then this was the only solution. The one he hadn't been able to see. The Daemoni could have taken anything from him as soon as they captured him. They'd knocked him out with black magic, and he would have never known.
He'd been telling me the truth!

This meant Lilith really was his daughter. And I'd have a decision to make. Which explained Tristan's expression. He felt relieved to see I believed him about being faithful … but worried about what this would do to us, if we made it out of here together. He'd said he'd raise someone else's daughter if he had to.
Could I do the same?

My decision would have to wait. The crowd's noisy response drowned out my own thoughts.

Martin banged his fist on the table. "Enough."

"Is there a way to prove this?" Chandra asked.

"Of course not," Armand said. "And as such, we must proceed. We cannot take the risk this is another lie."

"You can't prove it's not true either," Mom challenged.

"You can't be certain either way," I added. "What happened to innocent until proven guilty?"

"This is not America," one of the Middle Eastern mages said. "Nor a democracy. Martin, what is your decision?"