threats. If they came after her at all when they still had you, it would be to have you both. So the books were really irrelevant to their desire to attack her. They served as an excuse.”
“And I wouldn’t have known they were lying,” I said. “I would’ve fallen for it. I did fall for it.”
“Yes, we know we made a mistake in not telling you sooner,” Rina admitted.
“So why couldn’t anyone tell me? Why has Mom always had to keep this from me? I’m twenty-seven years old and just now learning who I am and what it means!”
Rina sighed. “I understand your frustration and I appreciate your patience. There were many reasons for your not knowing the whole truth. First, there was a trace of doubt about the power of the Daemoni in you— enough doubt that we had to be cautious in protecting our secrets. Second, our secrets are always kept hidden until the woman goes through the Ang’dora. We all lived normal, human lives until then.
“You, however, are unique. You had powers before your Ang’dora, so you knew something was different from a young age. For the rest of us, our mothers left us to return to the Amadis just before they changed over and we continued living normally until our turn came. You, however, saw and understood that your mother does not age. Sophia was so concerned for your safety, she would not return to us when you became too old for her to look like your mother. Then Tristan came to you and you deserved to know at least some of the truth so you could build a solid relationship with him. So, you actually knew more than any of us did before the Ang’dora.
“Finally, as your gift of writing became apparent along with your interest in creatures you thought were mythical, we knew you could serve a great purpose. You would not have done so well if you knew it was not fiction, no?”
“No, I might not have written them at all,” I admitted. I thought I’d been creating—and losing myself—in my own world.
“So we still could not tell you everything, even when you already knew so much.” Rina placed one of the books she’d been holding on the table between us and slid it toward me. “Read your history, Alexis. You will learn everything you have been waiting to know.”
I picked up the heavy book. The title was embossed in gold on the cover:
The History and Life of
Alexis Katerina Ames Knight
“It will give you the insight you seek,” she promised.
I ran my finger over the title and then opened the cover. The inside cover depicted a family tree—well, more like a vine—starting with someone named Andrew at the bottom and ending with Dorian at the top. Holy crap!
“Mom…you’re a twin?” I’d never known that before. She’d never mentioned it once, not that she had a brother and definitely not that she was a twin. But depicted on the family vine next to her leaf was another— Noah.
She and Rina both looked a thousand years old, full of a thousand years of heartache, as they both nodded. I opened my mouth to ask what happened to him, but Mom gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. Rina stared at the flames in the fireplace, though she didn’t seem to actually watch them. Her mind was far off, lost in distant memories. I’d brought up a difficult subject. Noah must have met a terrible end and I had inadvertently brought it to the forefront of Rina’s mind.
I wanted to tell her I was sorry, to hug this woman who always displayed control and power, but seemed so despondent and broken now. But my intuition told me the best thing to do was to simply give her a moment of silence. So I returned my attention to the book and became engrossed in the first couple of pages, which were about Andrew, a fallen Angel, his twin children, Jordan and Cassandra, and a potion that forever altered our DNA. Tristan tapped his finger on the page.
“They used a similar potion to create me,” he murmured.
I flipped the pages and saw text only partially filled the heavy book. The majority of the pages were blank. I looked questioningly at Rina, who seemed to have recovered from the pain inflicted by the reminder of her son, her attention returned to me.
“The rest will fill in as you go through your life here on Earth,” she explained.
“And when the pages run out?” I asked.
“That is when you either die or ascend,” she replied.
“Ascend?”
“When your purpose is fulfilled here and your daughter is ready to take over as matriarch, you will ascend to a different place, joining our ancestors and the Angels in the Otherworld.”
“Assuming I have a daughter,” I muttered.
“I know you will,” Rina answered confidently. “We do not yet know the purpose of Dorian’s lone arrival. But the messages I have received from the Angels indicate there will be another Amadis daughter. This is something we will need to discuss with the council. As you know, our very existence relies on a girl in the next generation.”
“And if there’s not? Dorian can’t rule the Amadis?” I asked.
“We are a matriarchal society, Alexis.” Her tone was firm, as if that were answer enough. As if it could never be changed.
“What if he has a daughter? Can we skip a generation?”
Now they all—including Tristan—sighed heavily, it seemed with despair. I looked at him in surprise, thinking he would support this thought. He pursed his lips and just barely shook his head.
“Read your book, Alexis,” Rina said, “and you will understand.”
I flipped through the pages of the book again. My story, starting with my conception and ending with my travels to the Amadis Island today, used only a few pages, compared to the number of blank ones.
“Well, I will either have a very long or a very full life.”
“I believe you will have both,” Rina said, smiling now. “But the pages cannot be counted—the number is protected by the Angels and they can add more or take some away, so we have no idea how long you will actually live.”
She placed the other book on the table. “Tristan, we have yours, too. We did not include any history. You probably do not mind, no?”
“Absolutely not,” he said, picking up the book with his Amadis name on it.
“Good. It starts when you saved Sophia, your first step in becoming Amadis.”
I looked at him in surprise again. “You saved Mom? I thought she saved you.”
“He saved me first,” Mom answered for him. “Once I had him convinced there was enough good in him, he fought Lucas, who tried to kill me. Actually, I was unknowingly already pregnant, so he saved both of us.”
I inhaled sharply. Even then we needed each other. I pushed the thought into Tristan’s head. He smiled at me.
“We always have,” he thought. “Maybe I somehow knew you were in there and we already had that connection.”
I like that thought. I smiled back at him. You and me together forever.
He thumbed through the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of blank pages in his book—about as many as there were in my own. “Forever.”
I love you, my sweet Tristan.
He placed his book back on the table, then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. He kissed the top of my head. “I love you, ma lykita.”
Mom and Rina left the room so Tristan and I could read the Amadis history. I curled my legs under me and snuggled into him, opening my book between us to the family vine. I traced my fingers up the branch as I scanned the names and then searched for the meaning of the brown leaves and asterisks. Small print in the corner provided the explanation.
“Oh, no!” I gasped, tears springing to my eyes. “All the males!”
Tristan squeezed me closer and his voice filled with sorrow. “I know, my love. That is why Dorian cannot rule or even produce an Amadis daughter.”
No, no, no! Not my son!
For the first time since the Ang’dora, tears flowed freely. I clutched at my chest, forgetting again that the pendant—my life saver—was gone. Not my Dorian! Not my son!
“Is there anything we can do for him?” I cried aloud.
