Promise (39 page)

"Will they make it back?"

Neither Rina nor Mom answered me this time.
They stared at the floor. Tristan hadn't gone alone—every Amadis
fighter out there went, too. Which meant there would be more
fighting.

I fell back into the chair and dropped my
head into my hands. I pressed the heels of my palms against my
eyes, trying to push away the scene replaying on the backs of my
eyelids. The heavy weight of it all…the bodies dropping, convulsing
on the ground, some completely still, dead…pressed down on me,
trying to crush me into the chair, into the floor.

"Is this who we are?" I asked quietly. "This
is what we do? Fight deadly battles?"

This was what I waited so long to find out?
That we were really no better than our enemies?

"When we need to, yes," Rina said, taking a
seat. "We try to prevent these kinds of atrocities. We prefer not
to fight. We are
good
, Alexis. But we are the Angels' army
on Earth. We must do what they need us to do. For them. For God.
Just like in biblical times, just like David and the others. We
must fight for what is right."

The Angels' army…the phrase bounced around my
skull. It should sound empowering, but all I could think about was
the fighting. The blood and pain. The deaths. My hands pressed
against my belly as I tried to draw hope from the tiny lives
inside. But I only felt despair.
What kind of world am I
bringing them into? What kind of lives would they lead?

Mom and Rina had been right all along. I was
not ready for this. The
Ang'dora
would make me more like
them and better able to comprehend and accept. I hoped. Right now,
my feeble human mind could not relate.

I had to focus on something that made more
sense—that was more within my grasp of understanding.

"Is this why we moved all the time?" I
finally asked Mom. "I always thought it was the men. Were we being
hunted and I just didn't know it?"

Mom
sighed. "No, honey. The Daemoni never bothered us until they
discovered you and Tristan together."

"Oh. So, then, why did Owen come into the
picture? He was around almost a year before the Daemoni knew
anything."

Mom didn't answer at first. She pursed her
lips and stared at the concrete wall for several moments. "Remember
how I knew Tristan was close before you ever brought him to the
store?"

It only took a moment to understand. "Owen
didn't come to protect me from the Daemoni. He came to protect me
from Tristan."

Mom nodded. "At the time, I thought you
needed it."

I chuckled darkly. "And I thought you tried
to set us up."

Mom chuckled, too. "Actually, I'll admit I
thought he was a better choice for you. But I was obviously
mistaken. That weekend I went away, I went to see Rina and she was
still adamant the two of you belonged together. I guess I knew it
all along somewhere in my heart. I didn't try as hard as I could
have to convince you or Tristan to stay apart. Of course, my power
wouldn't have worked anyway. It can't be used to change what's
meant to be."

"I do not know why you tried so hard to
prevent it, Sophia," Rina said. "But at least it brought you to me
for a personal visit, after so many years of your absence."

"You know we stayed away for Alexis's good,"
Mom said. "But now it looks like we will stay close. Today will not
be the end."

"No, it will not," Rina murmured.

Thick silence filled the small room.

"So why didn't the Daemoni bother us all
those years?" I asked Mom to keep the conversation going. I needed
a distraction.

She shrugged. "They don't fare well with me
and they gave up coming near me."

"Why?"

"Tristan isn't the only one I brought over to
the Amadis. In fact, Lucas is the only one I
didn't
convert,
given the opportunity." Despair colored her tone. For some reason,
she still grieved over him. I hadn't realized the extent of her
power of persuasion—or why she had been given that gift.

"We moved so much for many reasons," she
continued. "We wouldn't have been able to stay in one place for too
long anyway—people would notice I don't age. But that never became
an issue. Sometimes, it was just because of who we are—like when
you fell off the slide when you were in kindergarten and the cuts
that should've needed stitches healed on their own, or the fleabag
who tried to molest you and I nearly killed him, or the boy you
sent sailing across the yard. Other times, though, you're right, it
was the men."

"I never understood that. How come you always
left them?"

"Well…normal,
human
men can't handle
our love. I think you've experienced the results of our passion?"
She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "Bruises, broken
furniture…I'm surprised the whole house didn't fall down with you
two."

I couldn't help the small smile tugging at
the corners of my mouth, even in my distress.

"You don't even have your full power or
strength—you don't have a small fraction of it. Imagine what could
happen to a
normal
man with me."

"Oh," I said, considering the potential
injuries.

"Add that to the extreme love I feel for
everyone—the same love you'll feel after the
Ang'dora
," she
continued. "We can't help who we are. Unfortunately, sometimes the
ones we love just aren't capable of handling it. I had to leave
before I hurt them, emotionally or physically. It was always after
they became too persistent about sex or when they proposed."

"Wow, I had it wrong."

She reached over and patted my hand. "Of
course you did. I could never tell you what was really going on.
I'm just happy you have a relationship where you never have to
worry about it."

That was the wrong thing to say. It reminded
me my love was gone…and I didn't know when I would see him again.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as we sat in silence for what felt
like hours.

"Where
are
they?" I finally asked,
jumping to my feet as irritation sprang every nerve. "When will
they be back? What's taking so long?"

"Patience, darling," Rina said. "They will
return when it is safe."

I paced the small room, gripping my pendant
and sliding it back-and-forth on the chain, pushing the little key
with it. What may have been more hours, or possibly just minutes,
passed. Then Rina suddenly stood up.

"Owen is back. The shield is replaced."

I bounced on the balls of my feet as she and
Mom unbarred and slid back the concrete door. They grabbed me and
sped up the stairs. We stopped in the foyer as soon as Owen burst
through the front door. He stumbled inside, his face stark
white.

"Owen!" Mom cried with relief. He stood there
stiffly, his eyes wild.

I flew into his arms, standing on my toes to
look over his shoulder for the others. I knew immediately something
was dreadfully wrong. This was not laid-back Owen. His back was
rigid. His face twisted in pain or grief or…
horror
.

"Where's Tristan?" I asked, searching the
empty space behind him, panic already rising. He didn't answer or
even look at me, his arms stiff around my shoulders.

"Where are the others?" Rina asked.

"There were just too many," he finally said,
his arms falling limply to his side. "They kept coming. Too many to
fight at once.
Stefan
…" He couldn't finish, a mix of defeat
and grief on his face.

"No!" Rina and Mom gasped. He nodded.

"Sheffie?" I whispered, tears springing to my
eyes.

"He's…dead," Owen confirmed darkly.
Oh,
no! God, no!

"
Tristan
?" I cried. He didn't
answer.

"We never made it to the meeting place. They
mobbed us. Only three of us got away," Owen said bleakly. "Solomon,
me and…"

I didn't hear the last person, already
screaming the name I needed to hear. I grabbed his shirt and shook
him. "
Where is he? Where is Tristan?
"

He just shook his head, not looking at me,
not saying anything.

"
WHERE IS HE, DAMN IT?!"
I yelled,
panic and hysteria gripping my heart.

"I-I d-don't know," he finally whispered.
"There were
dozens
on him. I think he's…"

His voice trailed off.

And the earth stood still. It stopped
spinning on its axis and just hung in dead space as I stared at
Owen and tried to comprehend what he was saying. The meaning was
right there, stuck in midair between Owen and me, but my mind
wouldn't, couldn't,
refused
to grasp it. Then the
realization crashed down on me like a semi-load of concrete blocks.
And the world lurched into motion again, spinning way too fast,
swirling around me in dizzying blurs.

"
NO!
" I cried. My chest caved in and
my stomach heaved like it had been punched, sending my heart into
my throat. I choked on it, sobbing. "
NO! NO! NO!
"

I beat Owen with my fists. Mom pulled me off,
into her arms.

"
NO!
" I screamed again as loud as I
could and it echoed around the two-story foyer. "Oh, God,
no
! Not my Tristan…"

I collapsed to the floor and cried, refusing
to believe it. I pounded the stone floor until my fists bled. I
felt like I could die. Like my heart had been crushed into pulp and
twisted out of my chest. I
wanted
to die. Babies or no
babies, I wanted to be with my sweet Tristan. I could not do this
without him.

Mom tried to comfort me. I pushed her
off.

"He can't die!" I yelled at her. "He's
supposed to be invincible.
Immortal!
"

"Honey," she said softly, "there is only one
way to immortality and it is not here on Earth."

"What do you
feel
?" I cried. She
didn't answer. "Rina?"

Rina shook her head, tears in her eyes.

"Oh, God,
noooo
…" I sobbed into the
floor.

Tristan's beautiful face swam in front of my
eyes, his sublime smile, his love-filled, hazel eyes looking into
mine, the green shining and the gold flecks sparkling. I heard his
lovely voice murmur, "I love you,
ma lykita
," as if his lips
were right against my ear. And my heart shattered into pieces,
knowing I couldn't reach out and touch him although he felt so
close.
So close. Right here, with me
.

"He's not dead," I cried into the floor.
"He'll come back."

And I had to believe that because there was
just no other option. I had to hold onto it.
He
promised
.

And when he didn't come, my life fell into a
black pit of nothingness.

Epilogue

8 Months Later

"CHOO-CHOO-CHOO" I panted through clenched
teeth, keeping a train's rhythm, just as Mom instructed.

"Okay, honey," she said from between my legs.
"Get ready…almost…again! PUSH!"

She didn't have to tell me. I could feel the
pressure on my lower belly, squeezing inside, and all I wanted to
do was
push
. I heaved down, pushing with every bit of
strength I had left.

"I see the head. Almost there."

Yeah, no kidding
. I felt the head,
like a basketball wedged halfway inside me, ripping me apart. I'd
been in labor for nearly two days. I'd been pushing for what seemed
like hours. But I now felt too weak to keep going. The edges of my
vision faltered. Pinpricks of light popped in front of my eyes.

"You need to push harder than that, hon." Her
voice faded with each word.

"Alexis?" Rina sounded so far away, she must
have been in another world.

Mom said something. It sounded like something
about my blood pressure. But I couldn't hear her anymore. I
couldn't see anything but grays. And then blackness.

***

When I came to, Mom was tucking a tiny bundle
into the crook of my arm and turned it toward my breast.

"Your son, honey," she said, aligning his
mouth with my nipple. His eyes fluttered and he briefly looked up
at me, the steel-blue of a newborn. The few strands of his hair
were still wet and plastered to the side of his head. He latched
on, his lips moving slowly, awkwardly as he drank for the first
time.

"Dorian Stefan," I whispered through a groggy
daze, tears brimming over and sliding down my face. One dropped
onto his cheek. I gently wiped my finger across it, feeling the
downy softness of his face. I fell right to sleep as he
suckled.

I awoke screaming. It was typical for me. The
same nightmare every night ended my dreams with terror. But this
time was different. Not the dreams. Just the panic gripping me.

"My babies! Where are my babies?" I
shrieked.

"Rina's changing Dorian," Mom said from a
chair beside my bed. She sounded tired and…something else.

I calmed with the realization I was in my own
bedroom. Well, it'd been my bedroom here at the safe house for
eight months. It wouldn't be much longer. We'd have to move, as
soon as the babies and I were strong enough. Which meant I wouldn't
be able to stare out the window at the last place I saw Tristan, as
I'd been doing since that dreadful day, waiting for his return. The
last time I saw him was, of course, a horrendous memory…but my last
memory of him, nonetheless.

Now, he'd missed the birth of his babies.
How much more would he miss?
Nobody knew. As far as I knew,
we'd heard nothing since his disappearance, though I lay in bed
withdrawn into myself, just trying to stay healthy enough for the
babies' survival while my world fell apart around me. But if anyone
knew anything, they didn't tell me. Tears leaked from my eyes.

"What about my daughter?" I whispered. "I
haven't even met her yet."

Mom moved from her chair to sit on the side
of my bed. She took my hand in hers. Her expression was bleak.