'And you think it's God's will that our son goes to the Daemoni?'
'I don't know God's will, Lex, but Amadis sons converting to the Daemoni does provide a way for balance, and I do believe evil and goodness remain in general balance until God decides otherwise.'
'Owen says good always wins. We always win.'
'But in order to win, in order to appreciate good, there must be evil in the world.'
'Are you defending the Daemoni?' I asked, my lip curling with disgust.
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. 'I'm defending God's will and His plan.'
'And maybe it's His plan that the curse finally be broken.' I jabbed my finger at him. 'Maybe you broke it, when you gave yourself to them to protect me and the rest of the Amadis.'
He rolled his eyes. 'That's absurd.'
'Some people believe Dorian can still lead the Amadis. I heard it myself. Maybe this is why. They believe the curse has been broken.'
He severed eye contact with me and stared at the wall in front of him. 'I'm not an Amadis son, Alexis.'
'You have Amadis blood, though. And you are Amadis now, and you were when you left, when you sacrificed yourself. And maybe that's why we didn't have a daughter, because we don't need one. Because Dorian can lead.'
His eyes returned to me and narrowed. 'Have you given up on this girl, then? You don't think she exists after all?'
I threw my arms in the air. 'Of course not! I'm just considering all the angles and this seems as viable as any of the others. If we don't find the girl or we do and she's not really our daughter … if I don't get pregnant again … maybe it's all for a reason. Part of God's will.'
'It's certainly a nice idea, everything wrapped up so neatly for us, but it's too easy. The world doesn't work that way.'
'But God and the Angels can.'
'Forget it, Alexis. If there's even a real curse, I'm not the one who's broken it. I don't exactly qualify.'
'Why not?' I looked into his eyes and found the green dark and muddy and the gold sparks dim. I'd seen that look before. His thoughts came loud and clear through his expression. I didn't have to be a mind reader. 'You think you're not good enough.'
'I know I'm not!' he barked. 'I'm not enough Amadis to break the curse. I'm not now, and I certainly wasn't then. I'm. Not. Good. Enough. Not for you and not for the Amadis.'
'Now that's absurd. Get over it, Tristan. Get over your past. Get over yourself. You want to put it all behind you, but you don't actually let it go!'
In a blur of motion, he suddenly stood on his feet, pushing the table several feet across the floor with a screech.
'I'm done now,' he growled, and in an instant, he was gone, leaving me standing there, wondering what was happening to us.
We argued about everything else, as well, and sometimes I wanted to give up on it all. I daydreamed about living a normal life. I fantasized about forgetting my responsibilities and letting everything fall as it may. But then I'd remember what that meant–losing Tristan … losing Dorian. Then what would be the point of life anyway?
Besides, I had a duty and a purpose. I had a responsibility to the Amadis, to mankind, to fulfill that duty and purpose. And being responsible meant carrying on even when I didn't want to. Even when I wasn't sure why I should care.
We made love every night, doing what we could to produce a daughter. At least that never got old, especially because half the time it was make-up sex.
By the middle of September, panic imprisoned me in its tight vice. I'd bought every store on Captiva and Sanibel out of pregnancy tests. Since the Ang'dora, I didn't have periods. A truly awesome thing, unless your entire life–and everyone else's–depended on your getting pregnant. Because Mom had somehow been able to drop an egg, we had to hope I would, too. Hope. It wasn't exactly springing eternal within me, but I held onto as much as I could. Every morning I peed on the stick only to see a negative result, and every night I prayed this would be the time. Even in the midst of a heated argument, I knew I couldn't lose Tristan again.
Although I hated relinquishing them from my sight, afraid it might be the last time I saw either of them, I urged Tristan and Dorian out the door one morning, sending them off to the beach. Blossom had brought me an herbal mix over a week ago, a blend that primed the ovaries and hormones to facilitate fertilization. She said witches had been using it for centuries without fail, including long after menopause. We didn't know if it would work for me, though, and I'd been too scared of any side effects it might have. But like most people drowning in the waters of desperation, I was willing to grasp at any possible lifeline.
Following her directions, I boiled water and poured it over a tablespoon of the leaves in a coffee mug. I let it steep for the required ten minutes, then stirred it, lifted the cup to my lips and gagged at the smell. How can this be good for me when it smells like gasoline?
'Well, Sasha,' I said to the puppy at my feet, 'here goes nothing.'
She cocked her head as I pinched my nose and pulled in a large gulp. And immediately sprayed it everywhere.
Not only because it tasted worse than it smelled. But also because two people had suddenly appeared in my kitchen. Sasha instantly became the size of a Saint Bernard, her stripes, wings and fangs all on display. She growled at the intruders–Mom and Charlotte.
'What the hell?' I sputtered, wiping the tea from my shirt. 'You scared the crap out of me!'
'Didn't Owen tell you we were coming?' Char asked as she started purposefully walking around the house, pulling all the window blinds shut.
'No. I haven't seen Owen today.'
'He met us at the airport,' Mom said. 'He must not be back yet.'
'What are you doing here?' I demanded, still annoyed at their literally popping in with no notice.
'Where's Tristan?' Char called from the living room.
Something about her tone, about the way she asked the question struck me like a mallet, rattling my bones. Shaking my soul. I knew why they were here. My stomach rolled then fell to my knees. My chest tightened, and I gasped for air. The cup slid from my trembling hands, shattering against the tile floor. How could Owen do this to us? He knew they were coming, even retrieved their luggage because they couldn't flash with it.
'You're … here … to take … him?' I squeaked out between breaths. 'Oh, my God. You're really …'
I sank to the floor, unable to finish the sentence, my hand over my gaping mouth.
'You can't have him,' I whispered, shaking my head violently. 'You can't do this to us. Our time isn't up.'
The image of Owen coming to the safe house and announcing Tristan's disappearance nearly eight years ago wavered in my mind, and now I felt the loss, the emptiness, the half-existence all over again. My body began to quake. Mom took a step toward me. Sasha growled again, louder this time.
'It's okay, Sasha. You know my intentions,' Mom said to the Lykora. Sasha snuffed and stepped out of Mom's way. Mom dropped to her knees next to me. 'Alexis, honey, no. Shh. Calm down. That's not why we're here.'
She wrapped her arms around me and stroked my hair as I inhaled jagged breaths.
'Then why are you? Why the big ambush?'
Char, now back in the kitchen, chuckled. 'Sorry about that. We didn't mean to make it look like an ambush. Owen was supposed to warn you last night that we were on our way.'
'What's going on? Are you here for another investigation? More ultimatums to give us?'
'No, honey,' Mom said softly. 'We're here because … well, I guess you could say I ran away.'
'More like we escaped,' Char said. 'Escaped the crazies.'
'The who?' I asked.
'The crazies. More than half the council have lost their minds. Martin and Solomon are trying to hold everything together, but even Rina's messed up. We're hoping Tristan can help us with a plan because the whole council is going down fast and ugly.'
I wiped the tears that had gathered in my eyes. Sasha shrank to her normal, toy-dog size and nudged her nose against my hand. I let her on my lap and dug my fingers into her silky fur.
'I don't understand,' I said.
