weren’t sealed. I could see passports and driver’s licenses and realized they were various forms of identification. Tristan stopped at one. “How about Nikolai Skovorsky? Is that the father of Ms. A.K. Emerson’s son?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “How would she meet a Russian, especially at nineteen?”
He shrugged and continued through the rest. He stopped on the second-to-last one and grinned mischievously. “Owen Allbright.”
Owen grabbed the envelope and pulled out the documents. “You trying to steal my identity?”
I looked at the identification pieces—a Montana driver’s license with Tristan’s picture and Owen’s name. Tristan chuckled.
“Just for an emergency. You never know. But, sorry, you’re not marrying my wife.” He snatched the papers back from Owen and stuck them back in the pile. He looked at the last one. “It looks like Jeffrey Wells. Does that work for you? A.K. Wells?”
“As long as it’s not Tristan Knight, Owen Allbright or some ridiculous name that makes no sense, I don’t care. I just want to get out of here.” My fingers pressed against my temples. I didn’t know if the vault’s stagnant air or the tension of the day caused it, but my head thrummed, creating a dull ache.
Tristan put everything away and Owen cloaked us before calling for the banker. When she opened the door, she looked at Owen, then around the room, as if expecting to find someone else in here. She must have decided she’d been hearing things, because she turned on her heel and led us back to the lobby.
The drone in my head increased and the sound itself multiplied, becoming several different buzzing sounds, each with its own quality and volume. It felt like bees actually flew around inside my head and grew agitated with no way to escape. The sounds grew louder and more intense. A panicked feeling started to rise in my chest with the onslaught, making it difficult to breathe. I fought the urge to cover my ears and shut my eyes, as if that would silence the ruckus.
A moan that would likely become a scream lodged itself in my throat. I’d never had asthma, but I thought I knew what it felt like now. My chest burned as I tried to draw in a breath, but couldn’t. I felt Tristan’s arm slide around my waist and he pulled me against him. I didn’t realize I’d been trembling until I stopped as he comforted me. We finally left the busy lobby and entered the garage. The hum quieted, leaving only the ache.
Once in the backseat of the car, I leaned my head against Tristan and curled my body into his. I instinctively knew right where he was and how to fit myself within his contours, even when I couldn’t see him. It had already become second nature again, as if we’d never been separated. His lovely scent and calming touch soothed away my anxiety. As Owen drove onto the highway, the headache dissipated.
“I have no idea what came over me,” I finally said. “My head sounded like a beehive. And it kept getting louder, especially in the bank’s lobby.”
“Where there were more people,” Tristan said, and then added, “More thoughts.”
“You think all that noise…” I didn’t finish. Of course, he was right. The buzzes, each with their own unique sound, were others’ thoughts trying to enter my mind. My heart sank at the realization of what it meant. “I can’t ever be around people again. It’s too painful!”
Tristan gave me a squeeze. “You just need to get used to it and learn better control. Rina can do it. I know you’ll be able to.”
It wasn’t a question of whether I would be able to. I didn’t know if I wanted to.
Owen drove us back to Key Largo. He didn’t drive as fast as Tristan did and I could feel Tristan’s impatience. He didn’t say anything, though, and just held me, for which I was grateful. I felt a strange tension hovering just beyond us, as though waiting for Tristan to let go of me so it could seize control of my body.
Before we separated so Tristan could flash us back to the beach house and Owen could return the car, we drove down a dead-end street, to a small beach in Key Largo. The sun hung in the western sky, still more than an hour from setting, providing a perfect back drop for pictures of the author with her long-lost lover. Owen turned the car off and we all just sat there for several long moments.
“It’s as good a place as any,” Tristan finally said.
Owen turned around in the seat and waved his hands at us. I felt relieved to see Tristan again. I decided I didn’t particularly like this cloaking device. It was convenient and even necessary, but it had been too long since I’d seen my love’s face for it to keep disappearing.
I wished my sixth sense would fix itself or return or do whatever it needed to do so I could rely on it again and feel a little less vulnerable. It was near dinnertime and the beach appeared to be deserted. A pier with a grass-roofed gazebo at its end jutted over the water, but no fishermen dangled rods from its edge. There was no one around to sense their intentions or for their thoughts to buzz into my head. Yet I felt exposed, as if someone —or something—watched from out-of-sight.
“They don’t need to be good pictures,” Tristan instructed Owen as we walked out to the sand. “In fact, people should have to look closely and just assume that it’s her. The vaguer and blurrier the photos are, the less likely they might recognize us in the future.”
Tristan and I walked up and down the small beach, Owen staying behind us to catch our profiles and nothing more with the camera. Though I hadn’t made any public appearances for a few years, we didn’t want to take any chances of recognition. Tristan and I held hands, walked arm-in-arm, kissed a couple times and even pretended to play at the edge of the water. It shouldn’t have been hard to look like the reunited couple we really were, but my nerves were on edge and I couldn’t completely play the role.
When we finally turned to cross the hundred yards to the car, the beehive grew in my head again. Just a low hissing sound at first, but the noise quickly grew louder, into a hum and then a buzz.
“Him.”
“Who?” I looked up at Tristan. We’d been walking in silence. Why would he suddenly blurt that out?
He peered down at me. “What?”
I realized that though the word had come clearly, the voice was unrecognizable. Not Tristan’s.
“They’re here.” Again clear, but an even different voice.
My heart picked up speed as I looked around. I saw no one. But I knew we weren’t alone. The buzz grew louder and I clamped my hands over my ears to block it out. It didn’t do any good, of course. The sound came from within.
“Alexis, what’s—” Tristan didn’t finish his sentence. He stiffened and his eyes scanned our surroundings. He sensed their presence. “Owen!”
As soon as Tristan called out his name, the buzzing exploded into different voices and random words and phrases, as if that one word had broken some kind of dam holding everything back.
“—I’ll wait—”
“—yes—”
“—she’ll come—”
“—maybe we should—”
“—no—”
“—stupid moron—”
“Ha! How lovely!” Even drenched in sarcasm, the words sounded like a breeze caressing silver chimes. A musical voice. A voice I’d already come to know too well.
“Vanessa,” I whispered. “She’s here.”
On the other side of the car, under the shade of a clump of mangrove trees, a white figure emerged. She remained in the shadows, but I could feel her evil eyes on us. Her stone-white lips stretched into a grin. Then I noticed the other figures behind her. Vanessa stayed in the cover of the trees, but the others started moving toward us.
“Go!” Owen yelled. “Before they get too close!”
He thrust his hands out at the approaching Daemoni and one of them collapsed to the ground. Someone laughed. Then a blur of a figure shot toward us.
The next thing I knew, Tristan had me scooped into his arms. Then I felt that pull on the air in my lungs and a fraction of a second later, I sucked in a chest-full of air. Before I could take another deep breath, Tristan leapt several yards. Then he set me on my feet and pulled on my hand. I stumbled over wild ferns and other brush, scraping my arm against a palmetto’s fronds. Our beach house stood thirty yards away. We were within the safety of the shield.
“They’re back! But not Owen. I don’t smell him. Where is he? I need him!”
