He pulled out and freed my arms, and I turned around. I pressed my hands to the sides of his face and pulled him closer for a kiss, all wet and sweet and tangy. His hands glided over my hips and to my b.u.t.t, and he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he entered again. But after three magnificent thrusts that sent me to the verge of another o.r.g.a.s.m, I realized this could be a mistake.

"We'll knock the wall down," I gasped.

With me in his arms and my legs still around him, Tristan moved backwards to the bed. When he hit the mattress, he fell back, putting me on top. His chest was hard but smooth as I pressed my hands on it and rocked my hips, feeling him pulse inside me. I rode him hard, making him groan and pant, until he bucked against me and then suddenly sat with me in his lap.

He twisted us around and laid me on my back, then pounded into me with hard, beautiful thrusts. I covered my mouth to m.u.f.fle the scream of pleasure from the deep penetration. My back arched on its own, and his mouth latched onto my breast, his tongue flicking over my nipple and then caressing it as he sucked. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the bliss, and met his rhythm with my hips. But right when I was about to explode again, he growled.

We both froze. My eyelids flew open. His face twisted in a mix of heated pa.s.sion and ... agony? Then I saw what I hadn't seen in so long-a flicker of flames in his eyes. What the h.e.l.l? Before I could even finish that thought, the spark was gone.

He closed his eyes and exhaled the breath he'd been holding. He still throbbed inside me. I flipped us over, wrapped my hands over his forearms and pushed them against the bed, holding him in place as I rode him again, looking into his eyes the whole time, mind-sharing everything I felt right now with him. His eyes filled with love. And intense desire. And then rolled back.

"Oh, f.u.c.k, Lex," he groaned as he came inside me.

We silently lay in each other's arms afterwards, not mentioning what might have happened. I told myself nothing had happened. It was the heat of the moment. He loves me. I felt his love flowing from his warm, strong embrace now. At least, I thought I did. Once he drifted off to sleep, it really came pouring out of him. And that bothered me. Why would he be inhibited while we made love? Afterwards, when it was only him and me, basking in the beautiful moment we'd just shared?

Something was changing between us. Hadn't we already been through enough?

Tristan was right about Heather. She knocked on our door bright and early the next morning, which wasn't a bad thing because it distracted Dorian from the fact we'd broken our bed. Again. We'd also left an indentation in the drywall from my head and torso, and Owen wasn't here to fix it all for us, forcing me to make an embarra.s.sing request of Blossom.

"So where did these come from?" I asked Tristan as I picked up the stilettos to put them away before going out to greet Heather. I certainly never owned shoes with these kinds of heels. "Did you pick up a new hobby of women's shoe shopping while I was gone?"

He shrugged casually, but his face remained smooth. "I guess you could say I've developed a new fetish."

I stared at him for a long moment, not knowing what to think or say, but mostly fighting hoots of laughter at the thought of big, powerful Tristan-Mr. Beautiful-browsing the women's shoe section. But if this was really his new thing, I didn't want to laugh in his face. He could develop worse fetishes.

"Um ... well, okay ..." I stammered.

Then he was the one to burst into laughter. "Joke, ma lykita." He pulled me into his arms and whispered against my ear, "Just like any part of you, I'd rather see your feet naked."

I sagged against him with a bit of relief. I couldn't help the thought of there being something wrong with the "ultimate warrior" having a thing for women's shoes.

"So where did they come from?" I asked, the shoes still dangling from my fingers.

"Blossom."

The sense of relief disappeared faster than a warlock could flash. What the heck were Blossom's s.e.xy shoes doing in my bedroom?! I stiffened in Tristan's arms.

"She said she accidentally bought the wrong size, and she thought you might like them," he explained.

"Seriously?" I asked with a forced chuckle, trying to cover up my idiotic reaction. What was up with all the unwarranted jealousy? Sure, Tristan had been acting strange lately, but not in a way that made me suspect his faithfulness to me. But something had apparently crawled under my skin and gnawed on my nerves. Perhaps the depleted Amadis power made me so cynical. "She thought I'd like these? To wear around town or something?"

Blossom knew me better than that-flip-flops or combat boots were the only things that went on these feet. Then again, this was Blossom. She'd probably bought them for the same purpose we'd used them for: in the bedroom.

"Yeah, I didn't think you would, but, well, a guy can't help but wonder how his girl would look in those." He finished with a wink, and my brain glazed over.

He took the shoes from my hand and tossed them into the closet before giving me a kiss that made me forget everything. Then he took my hand and pulled me out to the kitchen.

Blossom must have given Heather a serious threat, because the girl still didn't dive immediately into the subject of her sister. Rather, she showed up at our house every day for a few hours and watched Dorian for us while Tristan and I took care of Amadis business, which mostly consisted of finding and purchasing (on behalf of the Amadis) a mansion to serve as the new Captiva safe house. But every day before she left, she'd mention something about her sister, or vampires, or the Daemoni, or the Amadis. This went on for several weeks, and although I could have called her out-I already knew what she wanted from the letter she sent me-I was buying time.

I needed to follow orders and rebuild my Amadis power before making any promises that I could help her. And even fully rejuvenated, I didn't know if I could keep such promises. The best way to help Heather and her sister, if she was indeed a Daemoni vampire, was to convert her. But I knew too little about the process of conversions, and Charlotte hadn't started my training yet. I'd hoped the warlock would be here by the time Heather stopped circ.u.mventing the issue, but I ran out of time. She finally popped the question-specifically asked for my help-one day as we sat on the beach, watching Dorian ride his skim-board over the low waves of the Gulf of Mexico.

"Hold on," I said. Up until now, I'd simply listened to Heather's remarks and comments with little acknowledgement, but I could avoid the subject no longer. I had questions of my own before I answered hers. "Before we really get into this, how do you know all these things about us? You're not supposed to."

She was a Norman. Someone had to have disclosed our secrets. She gnawed on her bottom lip and watched her fingers as they weaved in and around several yarn anklets decorating her foot. She always wore a bikini under her tank tops and shorts, and with her sun-streaked hair, natural beauty without a hint of makeup, the friendship bracelets adorning her arms, and all of those anklets, she looked like the typical beach-town local teen.

"It's your fault," she finally said, looking up at me. "Yours and Tristan's. Mom came home every night for weeks swearing that she knew her new clients from somewhere but couldn't figure out how. And then the day after the sale finished, she completely forgot she'd told me that and only said you two bought a house from her. But I saw you once when you stopped by her office to drop something off, and I recognized you immediately. Because of you, my dad stopped beating the s.h.i.t out of my mom. You don't forget the faces of the people who finally scare away the real monster in your life. Well, not unless someone wipes your memories."

I cringed-she'd guessed what Owen had done to her mother.

"But that doesn't explain how you figured everything out," I said, avoiding her accusation.

"Look at you. You're like ... exactly the same as you looked before. Well, not you. You're a lot more ... well, more everything. Prettier, s.e.xier, stronger. But still you, as if you're frozen in time. And my sister ..." She drifted off, her mind going somewhere else as her fingers returned to twisting in her anklets. When she spoke again, her voice came from a distance. "She looked almost the same as the day she disappeared, too, but it'd been four years. She'd barely been nineteen then and she should look older now. At least different. Instead, she just looks ... paler. Her hair's exactly the same-same cut and everything. She'd told me once, after reading your books for the sixteenth time, that she wished she could be a vampire. Then one day, not too long after you got the restraining order against her, she said, 'I know they're out there. I'm going to go find them.' And we never saw her again."

Guilt tugged at my heartstrings. I hadn't personally obtained the restraining order. My publicist had because Sonya seemed to be a crazed fan, with a little too much emphasis on the "crazed." She'd never bothered me, though, and perhaps if that restraining order hadn't been issued, Heather wouldn't be sitting next to me, asking for my help.

I swallowed the lump in my throat before encouraging her to go on. "But then you did see her ..."

"Yeah, I did. The first time I saw her was nearly two years ago, and I totally freaked. I couldn't believe it, and even convinced myself that I saw wrong. When I looked back to be sure, she was gone. A few weeks later, I was at the skate park with some friends, and I saw her again, and that time I approached her. She told me I didn't know what I was talking about, she didn't know me, and I'd better leave her alone if I wanted to live. But something in her eyes, Alexis ... she wanted to tell me something. She looked so ... scared." A tear slid down Heather's cheek as she stared out at the horizon. "I had to do something for her. There had to be something that I could do. I stalked her for a while, following her as best as I could, but keeping my distance because she's, well, pretty effin' scary now. Some of those vamps aren't very smart or secretive, especially lately. It was so easy to creep on them and listen to their conversations. They lie all the time, even to each other, but I learned some things that were true, too. Like last summer when they were p.i.s.sed at not being able to attack some kind of colony on Captiva. Because of you. And Tristan. They were so scared of you guys!"

"That must have piqued your curiosity."

"h.e.l.l, yeah, it did. How could these vamps be afraid of you? I mean, my a.s.shole sperm-donor was, but he was only human." I couldn't help but chuckle at the term she used for her dad-the same thing I called the guy who fathered me. She went on. "So I knew you were different, but you didn't seem the same as the vamps. I didn't get too close to them, but I didn't have to. They felt all wrong. Bad vibes. And when I'd been close to you in the office that one time, you felt right. Good. But I knew you had to be something not quite human."

I stared out at the water as I let her story sink in. How was this possible? How could she detect anything different about me, unless she wasn't a Norman herself? But I knew she was-I could feel her humanity all over her.

"Blossom says it's because of my open mind," Heather said, startling me. I didn't think I'd shared those thoughts with her telepathically, but when she continued, I realized she'd gone down the same train of thought as I had. "How I can feel the difference between all of you and us Normans, as you call us. I got that open mind from you, you know."

"Me?" I asked as I pushed my toes into the sand.

"You and your books. Sonya and I talked all the time about how it could all be real. But I'd never want to be an evil vamp. I just prayed, if they were real, G.o.d would protect us from them."

So Rina and the council had been right about my books. They opened people's minds to the possibility that so-called fantastical creatures existed. I'd been so worried this would drive people to seek out the Daemoni to become a Were or a vamp, as Sonya had. But, apparently, at least as many readers could be like Heather, strengthening their faith, which would protect them against the Daemoni's increasing attacks. My guilt lessened. A hair.

"Anyway," Heather continued, "after we moved to Sanibel, I rode my bike to Captiva almost every day for a while, and as soon as I got my license, I'd go and watch my sister, too. It didn't take long to figure out there were two groups and which side you were on. And then I thought, 'They can help me. They can help me get Sonya back.'"

Chapter 6.

A long moment pa.s.sed before I realized the girl waited for my response.

"Heather," I said, "I really do want to help you, but honestly, I don't know what can be done. Sonya chose this, which meant she was willing to give up her soul to be a vampire."

"But she hasn't yet. She hasn't lost her soul. I see it in her eyes. I think she realizes she's made a huge mistake, but doesn't know how to un-do it." The girl turned to me and tears filled her blue eyes as they pleaded with me. "Blossom says if there's any hope at all, you can save her. I know there's hope. I have to believe that!"

I pulled her into my arms and smoothed her hair as she cried. My decision was made. She needed me. She needed our help. And I owed it to her and her sister.

So a few weeks later, Heather, Tristan, and I took a ride in Tristan's new toy-a shiny black Ford F-250-to spy on a nest of Daemoni vampires in Fort Myers Beach. The mission was two-fold: try to get a feel for Sonya and learn what we could about Vanessa and my pendant. A simple reconnaissance trip. Yeah. Right.

Heather spotted Sonya and a redheaded female vamp leaving the condo they shared with others from their nest, and we followed them as they walked down the main road and made their way to the crowds of tourists. August was one of the slowest months of the year, but there were still plenty of tourists around. Perhaps because Key West had earned such a dangerous reputation lately. The way Sonya and her companion hungrily eyed the Normans, Fort Myers Beach would soon be gaining a similar rep.

The two vamps easily found their prey in a dark parking lot behind a bar.

"Hey, two on one, huh? I'm down with that," said the middle-aged man covered in tattoos as we crouched behind a car on the far side of the lot. I lifted my head up enough to see the vampires man-handling the guy. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I like it rough, too, but easy now."

"We can't let them attack," Tristan said, and I nodded. "You stay with Heather. I'll take care of it."

But by the time he finished his sentence, Heather was already sprinting across the parking lot.

"Sonya, no!" she screamed. "Don't do-"

A wail of pain cut off the girl's words.

"Go, Alexis!" the voice, the one I refused to believe belonged to Ca.s.sandra, screamed in my head.

Tristan and I blurred to the site to find the guy gone and the redhead squatting over Heather's splayed out body, blood pouring from a cut across the girl's cheek. With a thunderous crash of Sonya's body against hers, Red was thrown off of Heather. The two vampires rolled around the parking lot, fists flying at each other.

"She scared away our dinner," Red shrieked as she freed herself from Sonya and jumped to her feet.

"She's my sister," Sonya yelled back, springing to her feet, too.

"Not anymore. Now she's just a meal."

Sonya lunged at the other vampire. She never made it across the three feet that had separated them, though-Tristan appeared between them, and she slammed into his hard body. He caught her arm in one hand and reached out to grab Red, but one look at him and she disappeared with a pop.

Only to reappear with three others.

No exchange of pleasantries ensued. They immediately moved in for the attack. I uncloaked my dagger and yanked it from my hip, swinging it as a little blond female flew at me. The blade sliced across her forearm, and she screamed from the silver's burn, but didn't relent. She charged me again, along with a short guy with orange hair. I shot her with electricity and pushed Amadis power into my dagger as the blade slid between his ribs. He let out an ear-piercing scream then disappeared. The blonde began to turn a sickly gray, purple smoke rising from her skin, when something knocked my arm, breaking the current.

"That's enough, Lex," Tristan murmured. "You can't kill her."

The blonde flashed out of sight as my arm fell to my side. All of the others had disappeared, too, except for Sonya and a tall guy with a dark crew-cut, both of whom stood across the lane of cars from us.

"Go on," Sonya said to the guy, nodding her head toward the road.

"Sonya-" he said, and the tone of his voice sounded as though he had some kind of authority.

"I need ... to do this. Please," she said. They eyed each other for a long moment and something seemed to pa.s.s between them, some kind of unspoken message. He disappeared before I had the thought to maybe "hear" what they were thinking.

Having some faith Sonya wouldn't attack us on her own, I dropped to my knees next to Heather and pressed my fingers to her neck. Her pulse came nice and strong. She must have hit her head when she was thrown, though.

"Is she okay?" Sonya asked.

"I think so," I said.

Sonya crossed the lane and stopped abruptly with a gasp as she took in her sister's condition.

"Oh, my G.o.d. What have I done?" She fell to her knees, scooped Heather's unconscious body into her arms, and rocked the girl as she sobbed. "Heather, I'm so sorry. You shouldn't be here. What have I-" She stopped suddenly, as if frozen. The next instant, Heather was on the ground again, and Sonya stood on her feet, staring at her sister with horror in her eyes, her hand clamped over her nose and mouth. "The blood. The blood. Oh, G.o.d, don't let me ..."

My eyes darted to Tristan to silently ask for a little help with the vampire, but his expression stopped me. He appeared to be waging some kind of internal battle. Tristan! He snapped out of it and looked at me with dark eyes. Help Heather. He stared for a confused moment, then finally gave a slight nod and moved to the younger girl's side.

"Sonya," I said, slowly rising to my feet and moving toward the vamp, one hand out in precaution, the other on the hilt of my dagger. "Be strong. You don't want to hurt her, right?"

She stared at me with wide eyes, the same blue as her sister's, and shook her head.

"No, don't let me," she whispered behind her hand. Then her eyes changed, glowing bright red as her worried expression morphed into anger. Her voice was no longer a whisper, but full of venom, stopping me in my tracks. "How could you do this? How could you bring her here? It's too dangerous!"

"I brought them here," said a hoa.r.s.e voice at our feet, and we both looked down at Heather, still cradled in Tristan's arms. He'd healed the cut on her cheek.

"How could you be so stupid?" Sonya demanded. "I told you to stay away from me. You have no idea the monster I've become!"

And if I hadn't already believed it, I knew right then her soul could be saved. After all, you don't worry about someone's safety if you don't give a rat's a.s.s about them. She still cared. No, more than that. She still loved.

"Help her," not-Ca.s.sandra whispered.

"Sonya," I said, taking another step closer to her and slowly reaching my hand out for her arm. She hissed at me and her fangs slid out, but I refused to back off. "I do know what you think you are. But you're wrong. I sense good in you."

"Don't touch me!" she snapped, shrinking away from my hand. She'd apparently been warned about my electrical touch or about the pain of the Amadis power. Probably both. "You did this. It's all your fault!"

I cringed at the accusation, but nodded. "I know. I accept that. But I want to make it better. You know I can, right? You know I can help you?"

She shook her head violently, and her dark hair stuck to the tears running down her cheek, reminding me of her mother a decade ago when her father had struck her in the park by the beach. "You won't help me! You'll kill me."

"Do you want to live like this?" I asked Sonya, throwing one hand toward Heather at my feet and the other in the general direction of her nest. She didn't respond, but her answer came loud and clear in her thoughts: No! "We can help you. The Amadis can get you out of this. We can show you a better way to live."

Sonya's blue eyes flew from me to Heather, back and forth several times. A mult.i.tude of emotions stormed across her face as she remained in the grip of indecision.

I think she'll come with us, I said to Tristan. He didn't respond, and I peered at him again. He stared right at me, his eyes hard. Tristan?

He blinked. His eyes softened. Sort of. Again, a battle seemed to rage just under the surface, but his only coherent thought came as a growl. "This wasn't the plan."

So you want to leave her here? I asked with disbelief. What was going on with him?

Heather's hands gripped Tristan's arms as she struggled to sit up. "Do it, Alexis," she implored. "Do what you need to, now, tonight, I beg you!"

The girl's pleas pulled at my heart, but what was I thinking? Her hopes were already flying, but I'd only disappoint her. I had almost no experience with conversions. We had a safe house, but no staff to manage it. Whose lives would I be risking by bringing our enemy there with no one but Tristan and me to babysit her until we had help for the conversion? We couldn't dare leave her alone. And what about Dorian? What if something went wrong, and she got to him, then whisked him away? Could I risk my son's life like that?

"You can't think that way, Alexis. You are an Amadis daughter."

Not-Ca.s.sandra was right, and this was my purpose-defending souls such as Sonya's. She deserved this from me. They all did, but especially Sonya, because I felt somewhat responsible for her being in this position in the first place. I couldn't turn my back on her when she needed me so badly. Helping her was my duty, and I'd find some way to do it and keep Dorian safe at the same time.