A low growl rumbled in his chest as the images kept coming. So I fought them with my own.
I remembered our early days, trying to push each of my own images into his head without knowing for sure if I even did it right or if I could do it at all. Or if it would do any good. But I had to try to replace his old, bad memories—the ones he would never talk about, never purposely share with me—with our good ones. I pictured us sitting on the beach for sunsets, our first kiss, riding on the motorcycle, our wedding…even the joy of waking up in his arms yesterday morning. I felt my own good energy rising with the thoughts.
“I love you, Tristan,” I said. I tried to help Rina by pushing Amadis power into him, but I was still too weak. I had too little to give. So I kissed him all over his face, thinking if I couldn’t give him Amadis power, I could at least give him love. It had to be at least as good.
Then I couldn’t see his memories anymore or even read his thoughts. My mind went blank.
“If I’m going to have this stupid gift, it could at least be reliable,” I muttered.
“You have done well, Alexis,” Rina said. “He is coming around.”
I looked up at Tristan’s face. His lips twitched into a small smile. His eyes opened. The gold sparked, but at least there were no flames. He seemed to drink me in with his eyes and the sparks died into just gold flecks.
“I told you it was a bad idea,” he said.
Chapter 17
“I had no choice,” I cried. “I had to try. But you shouldn’t have….”
“I shouldn’t have helped you?” Tristan murmured. “I should have let you fight that by yourself and watch the depravity consume everything I love about you? I had no choice either, my love.”
He swept a thumb across each of my cheeks, wiping away the wetness. I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying. Then he folded me into his arms and I collapsed against his chest, his heart pounding a steady rhythm in my ear.
“You should have waited for us,” Rina said, “or at least for someone with more experience and power.”
I looked up. Her face puckered with concern.
“She needed us, Rina. Owen said—”
“Owen needs to focus on his responsibilities.” She shook her head. “He never could resist a damsel in distress, though.”
A quiet noise rumbled in Tristan’s chest—so quiet, probably only I heard the I-told-you-so tone to it.
“He just has a big heart,” I protested.
“Yes, he does,” Rina agreed, “but he also has big curiosity. He has a desire to test the boundaries, to see how far they can be pushed. He is often just a little late when you have needed him, no? He has always wanted to know how much you could withstand on your own. What any of us can withstand. He enjoys testing our abilities. He would never purposely put you in grave danger, but sometimes he overestimates our powers…or underestimates the enemy.” She shook her head slowly and let out a soft sigh. “I will need to speak with him if he is going to continue as your protector. Our world is changing and he cannot be so reckless. He must be more judicious or he will put you in serious danger.”
The weight of her tone quelled any more protest from me. We sat in silence as Rina gave another dose of power to Tristan and me, and then she rose to join Mom at the other end of the balcony.
Mom hovered over Sheree and Owen, probably pushing her own power into them. Sheree lay on the concrete balcony floor, her body convulsing in a seizure. A mix of sobs and groans sounded like they escaped from her every pore. Mom and Rina held their hands tightly against her writhing body. Rina’s face took on that expression it does when she assesses me—her eyes still bright and alert to her surroundings, but her mouth pursed in concentration.
“She suffers greatly. She needs us,” Rina finally said to Mom.
“Owen get them inside,” Mom said, tossing her head toward Tristan and me without removing her hands from Sheree.
Owen stood, strong and sturdy on his own legs, his full strength already restored. He helped Tristan and me up as if we were one body and ushered us inside. Tristan sat with me on the couch. I still trembled against his side.
“We are going to help you. You want to convert, no?” Rina’s voice sounded in my head but I knew she “spoke” to Sheree.
I closed my eyes, needing a moment of quiet, really wanting to sleep. But trying to block out Rina seemed to take more energy than I had right now. The image of Sheree on the balcony, as seen through Rina’s eyes, just simply appeared, without my trying. Sheree had stopped convulsing. She stared at Rina and Mom, her eyes like a wild animal’s. Her answer to Rina’s silent question came in a weak nod.
“You have to voice it,” Mom said in a hushed tone.
“I want to convert,” Sheree whispered.
“Why?” Mom asked. “You must convince us.”
“I-I-I d-don’t want be like them,” Sheree whispered. “I hate them. They’re horrible. Evil. They did this to me. M-m-made me a…a…a monster!”
“You do not have to be a monster. We can show you how to live with what you are but without harming people. Is this what you want?” Rina asked.
Sheree nodded emphatically. “Yes, oh, yes. That or to die.”
“We won’t let you die,” Mom said. “But this will not be easy. What is your name?”
“Sheree.”
“How did this happen to you, Sheree?”
The young woman gulped and her face screwed up as she forced herself to remember.
“I went to Africa, for a mission trip. We built a school and taught some of the orphans in this little village. On the last night we were there, I snuck out for a walk. It was stupid, being out by myself in the dark, but I couldn’t sleep. I felt bad leaving those kids, you know? They had no one to love them and take care of them, and here I was, going back to my comfy life. With a real bed, hot food…a shower. All those things that are just there for us, but not for them. You know what I mean?” She sighed softly and then shook her head. “I’m not sure what happened. I remember hearing a growl, kinda like a cat but…different. Lower, like it was bigger than just any ol’ mouser. Then there was this awful pain down my back, like my skin was ripping apart. I passed out, and when I woke up, it was morning and time to go. I had scratches all over me, but they weren’t deep, so I didn’t worry about them. By the time we got back home, they were almost gone. I thought I’d been jumped by one of the smaller cats out there. There are all kinds they warned us about. I blew it off as just a stupid mistake. And it seemed like no big deal, once I was home and getting back to my normal life. Until the first full moon….”
Sheree continued with her story of a Daemoni watching her transform the first time, seizing the opportunity to loop a collar around her neck while terror and confusion immobilized her. He told her he knew what was happening to her and he could make her better. He filled her with other broken promises and lies of hope. Then he took her away. She hadn’t seen her family since.
They kept her captive in the same place in Siberia where they’d held Tristan. They told her they would release her when she accepted what she had become. After that first time...killing the couple by the lake...her senses returned and she vowed to never do that again. She refused to shift for the Daemoni except when the full moon forced her and then she wouldn’t eat until the moon waned and she returned to human form. Because, for the three days of each month’s full moon, they only provided human flesh.
She figured they’d been holding her there for about nine months before Tristan unknowingly helped her escape.
“They told me stories about Seth,” she said.
“Tristan,” Mom corrected.
Through Rina’s eyes, I saw Sheree’s brows furrow with confusion.
“We call him Tristan,” Rina said. “You will call him Tristan now.”
“Um, okay, stories about Tristan, the traitor who they got back and were torturing to death. ‘That’s what we do to those who try to leave,’ they said. They were trying to scare me, but it just gave me hope that there must be
