Tristan narrowed his hazel eyes at me. "And break your promise to Char?"

My shoulders sagged as my puffed up manner deflated. That was the kicker. I sincerely didn't want to break my promise to Charlotte, not again. I wanted her to trust me, but at this rate, she never would. I wanted Mom and Rina to trust me, too, to know they could count on me to do the right thing.

But ... wasn't serving my purpose the right thing? Owen was certainly right about that-I couldn't refuse Vanessa. If she honestly wanted to convert, I had to do this for her. And sooner rather than later. Although part of me enjoyed it a little bit, I knew keeping her chained up like that for long wasn't the "right thing." How much longer until Charlotte could finally get here? Six months had already pa.s.sed since her last visit.

I wished I had my dagger on me. I wanted to talk to Ca.s.sandra.

"Well, while you sit there and contemplate the future of the world, I need to go check on the subject at hand," Owen said as he once again headed for the door. "Don't take too long to make up your mind, unless you want either a dried up corpse on your hands or a dead were-tiger."

My head snapped up. "What?"

He stopped one more time, but barely turned. "I brought her to you weakened on purpose. I haven't given her blood yet-on purpose. But she's starving, and we can't leave her like this forever. I won't leave her like this for long at all. Understood?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but strode down the hallway and around the corner to the wing where Vanessa probably still screamed b.l.o.o.d.y murder. I looked at Tristan.

He leaned against the wall and explained. "If he feeds her, he'll not only strengthen her, but since he'll be giving her his own blood, he'll be giving her magic, too. Powerful magic. She'll be able to do things we probably don't want her to do."

"But we have animal blood-oh. Sheree will notice."

Tristan nodded. "But if we wait too long to feed Vanessa, she won't make it through the conversion. She'll either die or dry up, and it'll take our whole supply of blood to refill her. But it's Vanessa we're talking about. She has too much self-preservation to simply let herself die."

c.r.a.p. I understood now and knew that we really didn't have much time. Because Vanessa wouldn't simply lie back and take the conversion if she was starving. She was still evil. She'd attack. I had the best blood for her and probably Tristan did, too. But if she was too scared or weak to fight us, she'd go for Owen or, worse, Sheree. And from Owen's comment, he seemed pretty confident she wouldn't attack him. Once she drank, she'd be a lot more difficult to contain for the conversion. Worse yet, if this was a trick and she attacked and strengthened herself, the whole village, the whole island and Sanibel, too, would be at risk.

I cursed Owen for putting me in this situation, but, at the same time, I understood the lengths he'd gone through. He'd carefully planned this to ensure I'd say yes and to force me to move quickly and on their terms, but he'd also done what he could to make it as safe as possible for me. Right? Well ... unless this was all part of the set-up ... unless he was part of the set-up and they were reviewing their plan of attack right this very minute.

I turned to Tristan and he opened his arms. I walked into his embrace, and drew on his love and strength.

"You knew the best solution all along," I mumbled against his chest. He didn't answer, but he didn't need to. "So why did you insist on arguing?"

"Just because I know the best answer doesn't mean I like it," he said. He paused for a long moment, then added, "Besides, this is a decision you need to make. You deserve a choice in the matter."

I sighed. "I don't really have a choice. As much as I want to hate her, as much as I have in the past, I'm Amadis and can't turn her away. I won't let her suffer any longer than she already has. This really is the best time for all of us."

"If they're even telling the truth. You know what you need to do."

I hated invading people's private thoughts, and Rina had taught me to use my gift responsibly, which meant only when necessary. But I had to know, and, really, this was necessary, not simple curiosity. So I found Owen's mind signature in the next wing and took a quick peek into his thoughts.

Get out of my head, Alexis, he silently growled at me. I cringed as I immediately let go of his mind.

"Owen's telling the truth," I said to Tristan. If Vanessa was tricking us, Owen was completely unaware. I gathered that much before he kicked me out.

"And Vanessa?"

I sought out for her mind signature, but it was distorted and I couldn't hear her thoughts. Only muted screams. The shield Owen put up to block out the noise apparently m.u.f.fled her thoughts, as well. Either that or her mind was completely focused on yelling her head off.

I shook my head. "Won't know until I get in there with her. But first, I want to see Dorian. Just in case ... you know."

"You can't think that way, my love."

My shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I can't help it."

"You're running out of sunlight."

"I only need a few minutes. An hour. Then ... we'll do this."

We found Dorian in the family room at home, sitting on the floor and playing some kind of war video game with Heather. Sasha sat between them, closely watching the screen and growling every time Dorian groaned when his character died, as if he himself had been hit. Tristan slipped away to his man-cave to check on a few financial things before we "disappeared" for the next day or so, but I stayed in the family room and watched the kids for a few minutes, basking in their normalcy after this morning's surreal events, until Blossom sauntered out of the kitchen.

"What are you doing here?" I asked with surprise, and my nose twitched with the sweet smell of a cake baking.

She wiped her hands on a dishcloth before giving me her usual h.e.l.lo hug. "I was kind of lonely, and we were supposed to hang out this weekend, so I came over a little early." I sagged in her embrace. "You have something going on, don't you?"

Guilt curled its fingers around my heart. "A, um, mission, yes."

"No worries. We'll do it another time."

I hugged her tighter before pulling back and giving her an appreciative smile. "What kind are you baking today?"

"Your favorite," she said with a teasing grin.

"Chocolate and raspberry?" I licked my lips. "Is it done yet?"

She laughed. "You'll have to wait until after you eat your dinner tonight, young lady." When I made a face, she said, "You won't even be home for dinner?"

I led her into the kitchen so we wouldn't be overheard. "Something's come up. Owen's back-"

She let out a squeal, but I held my hand up.

"Shh. I don't want Dorian to know yet. I don't know how long he's staying." I waited for Blossom to nod her understanding. "Anyway, Owen brought us, um, some information that we need to check out. If all goes well, we should be home tomorrow night, but it might not be until the next day. Can you-?"

"Of course I'll take care of Dorian."

She watched me as I began pulling out sandwich makings for an early lunch. I wasn't really hungry myself, but having lunch together gave me a reason to pull Dorian away from the game and spend time with me. And if I could manage to get anything down, it'd probably be good-I'd need the energy.

"There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about," Blossom said, and I didn't miss the careful way she spoke. I looked up from the bread I'd been smearing with mustard. "Dorian's been talking about his ability to fly a lot lately, and I had an idea. Actually, part of it was his."

"Uh-oh," I muttered as I went back to my task.

"Wait. It's a good one, actually. He said he thought you were unfair to not let him practice-these are his words, not mine-because if the bad guys ever tried to get him, he'd be able to get away."

I nearly dropped the knife with shock. We'd warned him once that bad men might want to take him, but I didn't know we'd actually scared him this much-enough that he'd been thinking about how to defend himself. c.r.a.p. Had I gone too far? Well, a little fear was good. You couldn't have courage without it. No fear, especially for the Daemoni, was just plain stupid.

"So you think it's a good idea?" Blossom asked, and she saw on my face that I'd missed something she said. "A cloak. I'm able to cloak him-I've done it before, remember? Then he could practice right outside. I know you're teaching him Aikido and other ways to defend himself, but if he could fly away, no one could even get him in the first place."

"Um ... I don't know," I said as I tried to consider the possibility. My mind was too distracted, though. "I'll talk to Tristan about it."

"I'm strong enough to cloak and even shield him, if that's your concern. I mean, mine aren't a level five like Owen's, and I can't leave a permanent shield or cloak, even if there are other mages around to keep it up, I have to be close by for my temporary ones to stay in effect, but they aren't bad at all. Good enough to where I've done a level-"

"Hold up," I interrupted. Something she said in her rambling caught my attention. "Do we have any mages in the colony who can do a permanent shield?"

"Only Owen, now that he's back. The colony's never needed one before, though. But, honestly, I'm not sure if the other mages would share their power with Owen to keep a permanent shield up. They're all pretty wary of him. They're finally coming around to you and Tristan, especially knowing there's a safe house they can flee to if necessary, but they're not sure what to think about Owen, since you know, his dad and everything ..."

She finally trailed off and took in my expression. What my face said, I had no idea, but it had probably paled. The safe house really needed a permanent shield, especially with its new VIP occupant. Perhaps the colony hadn't attracted Daemoni attention before, but Vanessa's disappearance might have them searching everywhere, including here. And if Owen took off again ...

"Surely the local mages would keep a permanent shield up over the safe house, even if Owen was the one who put it up in the first place. Wouldn't they?" I asked. "Whatever they think about Owen, we'd only need them if he wasn't here anyway. And it's a safe house, after all. If they want to feel safe there, they have to help."

"Oh, they'd do the right thing when it came down to it," Blossom said quickly. "I was only saying that some people have lost a little trust in Owen. I'm sure they just need to see him again, be reminded of what a great guy he is."

I harrumphed at that. Owen was a great guy, but I wasn't so sure about his intentions anymore. One thing was for sure-he needed to stick around at least long enough for his little present to fully convert. We needed his shield.

Blossom gave me a questioning look. I waved it off as I took the sandwiches and a bag of chips out to the family room, made Dorian turn off the game, and we all sat on the floor for a picnic. He complained that it was too early for lunch-he'd eaten breakfast only an hour ago-but when I told him Tristan and I were leaving for a couple of nights, he agreed to at least sit with us. Being a boy with food in front of him, he quickly forgot he'd said he was stuffed full of cereal and dug into a ham sandwich.

After a few moments of silence as we all chewed (and I forced myself to swallow), Heather reached for a handful of chips and somehow a piece broke off, flew in the air and hit Dorian square in the forehead. They stared at each other for a long moment, but Heather couldn't keep her face straight, so Dorian picked up a whole chip and threw it at her head. Another moment of silence pa.s.sed before they both busted out laughing, and the next thing I knew, chips were flying across the room. At least, until Sasha started catching them in her mouth in mid-air, then their game became how high they could toss a chip and Sasha could jump to catch it.

"Lex, we really need to go," Tristan said from the doorway, grimacing at the mess.

I'd been so engrossed in watching the kids play, I hadn't heard his approach or even noticed Blossom had gone to the kitchen after her cake. With dread, I rose to my feet and called Dorian over to me.

"I'll see you in a couple days, okay, little man?" I said as I wrapped my arms around him and held him tightly.

"And then we'll talk about Universal again?"

Wow. He really wasn't letting that one go.

"We'll see." I squeezed him tighter and kissed him on the head, which I couldn't help but notice came up to my chin now. "You guys clean up this mess. Don't leave it for Blossom."

"Sure, Mom. Love you."

"I love you, too, little man." I picked up the lykora next and nuzzled my nose into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. Then I whispered in her ear, "Take care of him, Sasha."

Heather followed us to the door, obviously having something to say. "Thank you for letting me talk to Sonya today. It meant the world to me."

I forced a smile for her. "Thank you for being such a good friend to Dorian."

She gave me a real grin. "You sound like it's a ch.o.r.e-"

"Well, he's not exactly your age."

"No, but he's awesome. More mature than most kids his age and a lot more fun. Those Norman kids are so boring to me now." She managed to pull a small, but real smile from me. "So, um, do you think I'll get to see Sonya soon?"

I frowned. "I'd hoped so, but ... uh ..." I looked up at Tristan, lost at what to say. Sonya would surely be telling her that we'd considered an actual visit. With Vanessa in the house and no telling how this could turn out and how long she'd be there, I wasn't about to make any promises.

"We told Sonya it might be possible soon," Tristan said, "but we don't know how soon. Alexis and I have some important Amadis business to take care of, but we want to be there. Just in case."

Heather's eyes widened at the implication, and she nodded with understanding.

"Thanks again," she whispered, lifting her arms from her sides awkwardly, then she scrambled off, back to Dorian and their mess.

Once we returned to the safe house, I made a stop in my office to retrieve my dagger. Wearing it 24/7 felt over the top and a little ridiculous with my typical attire of shorts and tank tops, but I did try to keep it close by in case of emergencies, so in my office when I was at the safe house, or under the mattress when I was home. I wanted it on me now, though, if anything, for Ca.s.sandra's extra power.

"You can do this," she whispered in my mind, sounding like Rina. "You will be fine."

I strapped the holster around my waist, then rubbed the amethyst to make the dagger disappear. The weight felt funny on the elastic waistband of my shorts, but I'd have to deal with it. I hoped Ca.s.sandra was right. I certainly felt comforted about the foreboding task ahead with Ca.s.sandra's presence within me.

Chapter 15.

As I left my office, I mentally called out for Sheree.

Can you hold the fort down here for the next day or two? I asked her when she responded. Tristan, Owen, and I have a mission we need to do for Rina.

I hated lying to her-this wasn't exactly for Rina, who had no clue what we were even up to-but I had no choice. And in the end, it was for Rina and the Amadis, because defending souls was our purpose and that's what I was doing. At least, if everything went the way I hoped it would.

"Of course. Going out of town? Does this have to do with the trunks?"

Um ... no and yes. I'll tell you all about it later.

"Don't worry about a thing here. But I can't wait to hear. Are we going to have a new patient? I'm getting a little bored ..."

Heh. Her wish would be answered, but if she knew who our new patient was, she'd be eating her words, I was sure. At least she wouldn't be bored anymore.

I don't know. Which was true, because I didn't know if I'd end up killing Vanessa instead of saving her. But even if the vampire survived, it'd be a while, probably a long while, before Sheree could learn the truth. I had no idea how we would keep that secret from her. But don't get your hopes up. I don't expect to be seeing Charlotte.

There. That should help. She knew I wasn't to proceed with a conversion without Charlotte's help, so she'd never suspect. I hoped.

The hallway that led to Vanessa's room felt dark and ominous, as if we really did traverse the dungeons of an ancient European castle rather than a mansion on the beach in bright and sunny Florida. I projected my own fear into my surroundings, of course. The sense of impending doom shaded the walls and floor in a somber gray, although golden sunlight poured through the banks of windows at each end. The nearly non-existent shadows outside meant it was almost noon-we'd already wasted precious hours of sunlight that kept Vanessa somewhat weak.

The door to the vampire's temporary accommodations was closed, probably to keep out said sunlight. She must have heard our approach, however, because it swung open from the other side. Owen hurried us in and closed the door quickly behind us. My eyes adjusted to the true darkness of the room immediately.

The heavy curtains were drawn tight, completely blocking out the sun. A single bedside lamp was lit, probably for Owen's sake, since Vanessa-nor Tristan or I-would really need it to see. Vanessa leaned limply against the wall, practically hanging from her shackled wrists. Owen had magically fashioned a tunic out of the tan blanket to cover her nakedness, for which I was grateful. I was almost surprised she wasn't shrieking about its ugliness, as well as the braces on her limbs, but she'd apparently exhausted her energy. She had to know we'd entered the room, but her eyes remained closed and her face had never looked so vulnerable.

"Vanessa," I tried to say, but nothing came out except a croak. For some reason, it occurred to me that I'd never called her by name to her face. I cleared my throat and tried again. "V-vanessa?"

"What?" she mumbled without opening her eyes.

My brain had such a hard time processing this scene-how soft and helpless my worst enemy was before me. How much she trusted me and didn't even try to put up any kind of defense in case I attacked. We could have killed her with one swipe of my dagger and a fireball from Tristan's palm, yet she showed no fear. No, she wasn't fearless. She was without care. As if she wanted to die.

Don't be a fool. It could all be part of her plan. My internal warning bells sounded. Of course she could have been faking the exhaustion or the surrender to make me trust her. I couldn't take her for granted, not for one moment.

I latched onto her mind signature and worked my way into her head before I prompted her thoughts. Her mind was open, relaxed, though I could feel a thread of fear in its deep recesses. But her prominent thought was discomfort.

"Owen says you want to convert," I said to bring up the subject in her mind.