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Authors: Kristie Cook

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“All of the Amadis gathered around to watch. You have to
remember, Uri and Duff were among the first generations of warlocks. We’ve lost
the ability now, but at that time, they could pull some energy from their
immediate surroundings to feed their power, like the sorcerers do. Uri had the
Amadis surrounding him, feeding him their positive power, but Duff had no dark
power to draw on.”

“So Uri won and Duff converted,” I guessed.

“Yes and no. Uri won, but, unfortunately, Duff’s energy had
been so drained that Uri basically one-shot him, and he dropped dead.”

A laugh burst from my lips. “What a horrible children’s
story!”

Charlotte chuckled. “It’s a great story. It’s become legend
among the Amadis warlocks. But that’s not the best part.” She leaned farther over
the bed, practically laying on Sonya’s sleeping form. “Afterward, Cassandra
made a speech to all of the Amadis and said, ‘We all must remember that there
is a Uri and a Duff inside each of us, battling for domination of our souls.
The one who will win is the one you give your energy to. It is your choice. May
you choose well.’”

I nodded with understanding. “So does that mean there will
always be a trace of Daemoni power in the converted? Is Sonya as close as she’s
going to get?”

“No. There’s a difference between the Daemoni’s evil power
and the darker side that’s in all of us. The Daemoni energy
must
be eradicated. We’re not talking
about Normans who do bad things here. Supernatural creatures with even a shade
of that power are too dangerous for humanity’s sake—and for their own.”
Charlotte glanced at her phone, stood and looked down at Sonya’s still body. “I
need to get going. She’ll probably be out of it for a while, so you have time
to get some rest. Then, keep sharing your power regularly and let Sheree do her
thing.”

The were-tiger appeared in the doorway at the mention of her
name.

“You have blood?” Charlotte asked Sheree, and the Were
nodded. “That’s the first thing she’ll need when she wakes up. Alexis, you need
to always have blood ready when you’re working with a vamp.”

“Try not to use blood from another vamp or Were, though,”
Sheree added. Her face scrunched as if she’d sucked on a rotten lemon. “Bad side
effects.”

“Their first several feedings after the conversion should
really be normal animal blood,” Char said as she made her way to the door with
me on her heels. “Anything else could be too strong, and you really want to
bring them back gradually. Eventually, they can handle donated mage blood. But,
well, when it’s an emergency, you use what you have on hand.” Char turned to
look at me over her shoulder. “Even your own, Alexis.”

I hurried up to her side. “Mine? Yeah, probably not a good
idea, from what I’ve heard. Not if we’re going for a slow recovery.”

Char shrugged. “Sometimes you do what you have to do. Just
be prepared if you ever have to, especially the first time. Your mother’s had a
few horror stories, so I can only imagine what your stronger blood will do.” When
we reached the front door of the mansion, she turned to me. “You’ll be fine.
Whatever you do, no more conversions until I return. Sonya is young in vampire
years, so she’s relatively easy. A good start for both you and Sheree. Neither
of you are ready for someone stronger, though. Not on your own. If you get in a
similar situation, call me before you do anything. Okay?”

“Of course,” I said, already convinced I wasn’t ready to fly
solo.

She glared at me, and I could see her thoughts on her face
without tapping into her mind:
I know you,
and you’re your mother’s daughter. I don’t trust you one bit.
I couldn’t
blame her after I’d abandoned her in Key West. And brought Sonya here with no
warning. Oh, and ditched her son on another occasion to face the Daemoni. Then
there was the fight to protect the werewolf pack, too, which I kind of jumped
into without thinking, bringing her son into it with me. Sheesh. No wonder she
didn’t trust me.

“Promise?” she demanded. “No matter what. Stay out of
trouble, okay?”

“I
promise
,” I
said as sincerely as possible.

“Why do I bother asking for it?” She shook her head. “I’ve
always admired your spirit, Alexis. We need it. Just remember—there’s a
line between moxie and recklessness.” She gave me a quick hug. “I’ll be back as
soon as I can. I’ll be gathering a team to bring here, too, so it may be a few
weeks. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine,” I said, hoping it was true.

As exhausted as I felt, I couldn’t fathom how she had the
energy to go straight to Texas and do everything all over again, only with more
people. I could sleep for days.

“My son. My bed. You. That’s all I want right now,” I said
as I leaned against Tristan’s side. Sheree had assured me the vampire would be
unconscious for quite a while and they would be fine at the safe house, so I
flashed home to find Tristan waiting up for me. He’d come home a few hours ago,
after Sonya had survived the worst of it.

“My pleasure,” Tristan murmured as he tightened his arm
around me and led me down the hall to our room.

But first, I went into Dorian’s room and lay down with him.
I curled my body around his, my heart aching at how long his body was now, how
big he was getting, but loving the moment of being able to still hold him
against me. It didn’t last long, though, not long enough for me anyway.

“Mom, go to your own bed,” he complained sleepily as he
rolled over, “I’m too big to sleep with you now.”

What happened to my
little boy?
I watched him sleep for a few more minutes, appreciating that
his face remained round and youthful, at least in sleep. As my mind started
drifting to dark thoughts of what his growing up meant, I forced myself to go
to my own room, where I snuggled with the man who would never push me out of
his bed, though he already breathed evenly, fast asleep.

I tossed and turned. My mind kept tumbling over Charlotte’s
story about Cassandra’s parable, my dagger that once belonged to the first
daughter, and the voice that talked to me—claiming to be Cassandra
herself—encouraging me in every dangerous situation I’d encountered
recently. But why, if the voice really was hers, would she talk to me now? Of
course, I’d been safe on the Amadis Island for several months, never finding
myself in a dangerous situation, never putting on my leathers or using my
dagger. So was that it?

Did we have some kind of connection through the dagger? I’d
only had it for a few days before tucking it away in the closet for so long.
Had actually wielded it only twice—while fighting on behalf of the
wolf-pack when the Daemoni attacked their campground and during the trial.
Neither time had I been frightened of the risk.

So was Cassandra really talking to me, trying to reassure me
when I needed it, or was it only my own inner voice? Or was I losing my mind
again?

I slipped out of bed, grabbed my phone and went down the
hall to the reading nook, where I curled up in the window seat and called Mom.
It was mid-morning on the Amadis Island, so I didn’t have to worry about waking
her up.

“I don’t mean to be rude, honey, but I’m about to meet with a
few of our remaining council members,” she said.

“I just have a quick question for you,” I said, not wanting
to go into detail anyway, in case I sounded crazy. “Have the Angels ever talked
to a daughter besides the Matriarch?”

“No, never. They keep their involvement in our world to a
minimum. Why?”

“Um, nothing. Sorry to bother you.”

“Wait a minute.” She paused, and I sighed. She was feeling
out for the truth. “Cassandra, huh? Well, keep in mind a couple of things. One,
we don’t know if Cassandra—or any of the ascended
daughters—actually became Angels. They might serve the Angels or work
with them, but we have no proof that we become a full-fledged Angel when we
leave this realm. That’s an Otherworld secret and not even I can determine the
truth about it. Second, you are unique, Alexis. Precedence means little when it
comes to you. And third, you’re not crazy. You are brave and incredibly
powerful, and maybe you’re still discovering exactly what that means.”

“You can tell me all that, but can’t feel the truth about
the voice in my head?”

“I would say that’s something the Angels want you to figure
out for yourself because I’m not feeling anything, one way or the other.” The
sound of something covering the microphone on Mom’s end followed by muffled
voices came through the line. “I’m sorry, honey, but I have to go. Trust your
instincts. Maybe that’s what you’re supposed to learn from this.”

I hung up feeling more lost than ever. I considered the idea
of retrieving my dagger and trying to reach out to Cassandra, but I didn’t
think that would give me answers now. After all, if my subconscious wanted me
to believe I heard Cassandra when I needed a spirit boost, it certainly would
be trying now. I couldn’t trust myself.

And in that case, how would I ever know for sure?

Chapter 8
 

“Everything fixed. Your bedroom and everything in it look
brand new,” Blossom announced as she came into the bare living room.

Although she’d been coming over to repair our bedroom nearly
every morning for three months, I still blushed as I smoothed the last piece of
blue tape across the windowsill.

“Thank you,” I said as I rose to my feet, my face burning.
“Again.”

 
“Why are you so
embarrassed? If I had a sex life like yours, I’d be telling the world. Of
course, I’d have to do it from my phone or some other way since I wouldn’t be
able to walk. He must be amazing, to get so crazy almost every night.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips. “Better
than
amazing
.”

She shook her head. “Intelligent, powerful, gorgeous,
and
a sex God? So not fair you get it
all in one.”

“I know, right?” I said, loosening up, then I struck a silly
diva pose. “But, so does he. There’s a reason they say we’re made for each
other.”

She laughed, then eyed the two jugs of paint on the floor
near her feet. “So, were you planning to do this by yourself?”

I shrugged. “Sure. Why not? Tristan’s busy wiring toys over
at the safe house, but I’m ready to work on our own house. It’s time to make it
a real home.”

“Toys?”

“Yeah, networks, entertainment systems, intercoms, that kind
of stuff.” I rolled my eyes. “I guess it’ll all be convenient, but the boy is
way into his toys.”

“Ah. Well, need some help?” the witch asked, glancing around
the room. “I mean, I could have this done in no time with a few flicks of my
wand.”

I chuckled. “Thanks, but I need something to
do
before I go stir crazy. Using magic
won’t solve that problem.”

Blossom nodded. “I so get that. I could use something to do
myself.”

“Then if you don’t mind doing it the Norman way, it’d be fun
to have your help.” I picked up a drop cloth, shook it out and let it fall over
the floor. Blossom followed my lead, and in a few minutes we had the floor
covered.

“So now what?” Blossom asked after she brought the rest of
the paint and supplies from my car while I retrieved a ladder and set it up.

I recalled the instructions the guy at the hardware store
gave me. “The paint goes in those pans, then you roll the roller in it until
it’s covered. You paint a big M on the wall and then go across it to fill it
in.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

We each set about filling our own pans and painting our
first Ms into big squares of a pale aqua blue.

“Pretty color,” Blossom said as she worked.

“Tristan wouldn’t let me paint it purple, so I thought I’d
go with airy, beachy colors.” I looked over at Blossom to see how she was
doing—about as well as I was, which wasn’t saying much. She stopped and
tilted her head to the side as she stared at the wall.

“I don’t think these rollers will reach the edges,” she
said.

I smacked my forehead, wet paint smudging from my hand to my
head. Great. By the time this was over, I’d probably have more paint on me than
on the walls. “Oh, crap. I forgot. The guy said something about cutting in with
a paintbrush first.”

“What guy?”

“The guy at the hardware store who taught me how to paint.”

Blossom turned to look at me, her mouth open. “Wait. You’ve
never painted before? Not even your own room?”

“I’ve never lived anywhere long enough to bother. Have you?

 
“Yeah, but not
this
way.” Blossom burst into laughter.
“We’re the blind leading the blind. This is going to be so much fun!”

“Well, how hard can it be?” Worst case scenario: the room
turned out looking as though a two-year-old painted it, but Blossom would be
able to fix it, and hopefully before Tristan saw. Otherwise, I’d never hear the
end of his teases.

“So why do you need something to do?” I asked from the top
of the ladder as I did the cutting-in while Blossom rolled the paint. The witch
usually kept busy baking cakes, creating new spells and spending time with the
vampire-barista on Captiva.

“With the tourists and snowbirds gone for the summer,
there’s not much business for my cakes. It’ll pick up in the next couple months
as they start coming down, but I haven’t decided if I’m really up for making
all those cakes this year.” As usual, Blossom’s mind and mouth were speeding
along. “I guess I’m getting a little bored with it. And I haven’t come up with
any spells or potions lately. I feel like I
should
be working on my magic with everything going on, but I can’t focus.”

“And would that have anything to do with Eduardo?” I teased.

 
“Ugh. Eduardo
can bite my ass. Well, not really. I don’t want him biting any part of me
anymore.” Blossom shuddered. “I’m so not talking about him. We’ll leave it that
he’s quite lacking when it comes to treating women well. So, anyway, I’ve just
been feeling antsy. Jittery. Maybe because of all that stuff going on with the
Daemoni, and I feel as if I’m being a big coward by sitting here on this beautiful
island, doing nothing. Maybe it will get better when we have a real safe house
with more than one measly occupant. How’s Sonya doing anyway? Have you heard
anything from Charlotte yet? Any news on when she’ll be coming back? It’s been
a couple months already. Is that why
you’re
so antsy?”

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