I stiffened in his arms. We had never, ever discussed Tristan and that horrible day he disappeared.
Owen’s voice came out husky as he remembered. “We hung out a lot, before we had to focus on you. We were pretty close, more than anyone knows. Those years he roamed alone…when you were still a kid…well, we would meet up every now and then. We both had to mainstream, but when we were together, we could be more ourselves. You know?”
“No, I didn’t know.” I shook my head. My own voice was thick. “Do you…do you really think he’s dead, Owen?”
He blew out a sigh, fluttering my hair. “I don’t know. I really don’t. Nobody does. But that video—”
I cut him off. “I don’t really care about the video. I know why they sent it, but I also know what I feel.”
“No, there’s something else you should know.” He paused. “See, we still don’t know who hacked Rina’s account, but they don’t think it was Amadis. It’s too difficult to believe a council member—or any Amadis—would go behind Rina’s back like this. They think it might have been the Daemoni.”
I blinked with surprise as I considered this possibility. Based on the conversation of the other night, the most obvious answer had been the Amadis council. The timing was too perfect. But…
Ian’s mocking laugh when he told me about the arranged marriage resurfaced in my memory. He certainly enjoyed watching my pain, so it was easy to believe the rest of the Daemoni would, too. They probably wished they could have watched me as I viewed the video. They obviously didn’t know anything about me. Or the connection I had with Tristan.
The Amadis council, on the other hand, did. They should have known the video wouldn’t have forced me into acceptance. They would know that, if anything, the video would have pushed me into the abyss. And, from the little I did know, the council—Rina’s advisors—should be the most loyal to her of all.
The Daemoni must have sent it.
“Why now?” I finally asked. “There’s been nothing from them in so long. Why would they do this now?”
Owen’s arms jerked against me in what I assumed was a shrug. “I don’t know. They don’t tell me everything. But…”
He hesitated.
“But what?”
“But the Daemoni might be sending a message…” He paused again, drawing in a deep breath. Before I could press him again, though, he finished. “…that if they hadn’t actually done it before…they have now.”
I froze. I didn’t even breathe as I let this sink in, let its meaning reach into my soul. My heart thumped several times as I tried to determine what I felt. But I already knew. The feeling that he was still alive strengthened when I arrived at the beach house…after they sent the video.
“I still don’t believe it,” I said.
“I didn’t think you would,” he murmured.
We stood in silence for a long moment.
“Do you think I’m foolish for hanging on?” I whispered.
He didn’t answer at first and I tried to ignore the interpretation I made of his silence. I told myself it didn’t matter what he thought. Only my own beliefs mattered and I knew what I had felt all these years. Especially these last few days.
“I admire your loyalty,” he finally said. “You do what you need to do for you. That’s what he would want.”
I nodded, the back of my head rubbing against his chest. I knew the truth in his statement. Tristan had once told me the same thing, a long time ago.
Owen kissed the top of my head and then he was gone.
I continued standing at the rail, thinking about Owen and what he put up with as my protector. He said he enjoyed his job, but was there more to it? I remembered how Mom had thought about setting us up, thinking he’d be a good match for me. The thought of being more than just friends had only flitted through my mind a couple times. If the Amadis was right about the video…if my true love really was gone…for good… Well, with Owen, life could possibly be a little more normal—as normal as it could be for an Amadis daughter, who, apparently, was enemies with creatures like vampires and werewolves. There probably wouldn’t be such a strong desire to keep us separated…or brought over to their side. I knew Mom would approve and Dorian loved him. The council would probably be ecstatic, seeing me move on. The possibilities…
But it was impossible to think of Owen as anything different than a friend or a brother.
I sighed. It doesn’t matter anyway.
Any future with Owen, or with the Amadis at all, would never happen. I knew what I needed to do—for the Amadis and for my family. And, if I was lucky, for myself.
I sat at my computer and started writing.
Now that I knew what came next—that I wouldn’t need another world to escape to—the words came easily. I wrote until two in the morning. I was wide awake again at five, ran around the property a few times, then went back to the book. Just before three in the afternoon, I finished. The book. The series. Six years of writing the story. Done. Finito.
I stared at the last line for several moments and finally typed The End. My chest tightened with grief. Besides Mom, my characters had been my best friends, pulling me through my darkest hours, and now we had to say good-bye, never to visit each other again. Their adventure was over and so was that whole part of my life…or it would be shortly.
I emailed the entire book to Mom. I didn’t know whether the vampire had been telling the truth about having Daemoni planted at my publisher, so I didn’t send anything to my editor. Mom could do whatever the Amadis council dictated when the time came.
I then wrote two letters—one to Mom and one to Dorian—explaining how I did this for them, to keep them safe. I wanted to call Dorian, to hear his voice one more time, but I feared what he and Mom would hear in my own voice. Mom would know something was up. So I wrote my good-byes, tears streaming. I knew I couldn’t email them—she would get them too soon—and I had no way to print them at the beach house. So my fingers trembled with my sobs as I saved the two letter files on the computer’s desktop, where Mom would easily find them.
I took a deep breath and focused on the rest of the plan. I hadn’t figured out yet how to do it. Owen had regularly checked on me, reminding me he stayed close by. I’d tested him once, pretending I needed to go to the store. He appeared suddenly and stopped me as I sat in the car, asked what I needed and was back with a box of tampons in four minutes. I felt bad for putting him through that and since he made the trip without so much as a complaint, he clearly wouldn’t let me go anywhere. However it happened, I needed to be ready to act on a moment’s notice.
I showered and studied myself in the mirror, trying to see what I could do to make myself as attractive as possible. It was surprisingly difficult to do any more than what my body had already done on its own. My skin looked and felt smooth—no wrinkles or lines of any kind, no dark and puffy circles under my eyes, the light-olive tone tanned. My hair, now full and vibrant, waved down to the middle of my back and my body was small but strong. I actually looked like my age.
I eyed the sundresses Tristan had bought me on our honeymoon and I’d forgotten to pack in our hurried departure. The property management company apparently had the dresses cleaned—they hung in plastic bags in the closet. I’d seen them my first day at the beach house. Mom must have had the wedding dress shipped because it wasn’t there and I knew I hadn’t packed it when we left in such a rush. I was glad it was gone. Seeing it would have been too much for my fragile self of a couple days ago.
I chose a black dress with purple flowers, spaghetti straps that crossed over my back and a full skirt that ended about three inches above my knees. It was probably out of style, but I didn’t care. Almost all the clothes I’d brought were dirty and the dress was better than baggy shorts and a holey t-shirt anyway. I checked myself in the mirror—the dress did the job.
“Wow, you look…” Owen was caught off guard when I called for him. I flashed him my best smile. He narrowed his eyes and said flatly, “You’re not going anywhere.”
I tried to act casual. “Of course not. I was just tired of looking like a frump. I feel good. I finished the book.”
He smiled. “Great! Now we wait for it to be published and let it do its thing.”
