Devotion (35 page)

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.

"When we came here in July," Mom said, "I told Char about how different I felt after leaving the island, but we'd forgotten about it when we returned. We'd been back a few weeks when I started feeling …
off
again."

"She was saying and doing things completely unlike her," Char said. "Martin had often talked about how the Daemoni found ways to mess with people's minds, and it seems that someone on the island is doing the same. Martin hasn't left there in weeks, working with Solomon to try to figure it out. It took some doing, but I convinced Sophia to get off the island. She's finally starting to get back to herself."

I hugged Mom. "Are you okay now?"

"Yes, I think so. I'm not so sure about Rina, though …."

"You think someone's messing with everyone's minds? Is that why they're all crazy?"

Mom shrugged. Char shook her head. "There aren't any mages powerful enough to affect everyone at once. But someone does seem to be messing with a few of the key people–Sophia, Rina, Julia …."

I snorted. "Julia's in on it. If she's acting crazy, she's just
acting
."

Mom opened her mouth to say something, but then she stopped and sniffed the air. "What is that smell?"

My face heated. "Sorry. It smells horrible. It's an herbal tea I thought I'd–"

"No, I mean it's familiar." She sniffed again. Then she noticed the pool of greenish liquid on the floor with shards of my coffee mug in it. She swirled her fingers in the tea and lifted her fingertips to her nose. "I've had this before. A long time ago." She paused, trying to remember, but I knew she was wrong. Mistaking it for something else. If she knew what it really was … "Yes. London. I'd visited a witch … we'd had tea. This tea. It's when … when I was with Tristan and Lucas, actually."

If I'd had the tea in my mouth, I would have sprayed it out all over again. "
Seriously?
"

"Yes. It tasted like gasoline but the witch said it would strengthen me, which I needed, to be able to handle Lucas."

"Mom …" I hesitated, knowing she'd probably freak out that I'd even considered taking a concoction on purpose. But I didn't have to make a decision.

Char blurted it out for me. "That's a pregnancy potion, Sophia. No doubt, by the smell of it."

The realization hit Mom and me at the same time, and we both sprang to our feet.

"Mom, it worked for you. That's what did it!" My hope soared beyond the ceiling, beyond the trees, all the way to the sky. "If it worked for you … maybe …"

Mom looked at Charlotte. "Is it safe?"

"You're still alive, aren't you?"

Mom turned to me again and her face reminded me of Dorian's on Christmas morning–full of excitement and hope. "Did you drink it? All of it?"

"No, none of it. I spit out the first gulp and dropped the rest, remember?"

She grabbed the teapot, filled it with water and set it on the stove. "I can't believe I didn't remember this … that I didn't realize …"

I noticed what Char must have on the island–a difference in Mom. I'd never seen her so hesitant, almost unsure of herself, as if she doubted her own memories or thoughts.

"It doesn't sound like you knew exactly what you'd been drinking at the time," Charlotte said.

"No, but … we never even thought about it. Alexis could have tried this months ago."

"Actually, Minh and Galina had brought it up one time, but no one thought it would work on an Amadis daughter, and Rina didn't want to take the chance," Charlotte said. "No one knew it had been done before. Makes me wonder who this witch was who gave it to you. Why she hasn't piped up about it, with everything going on."

"Actually …" Mom paused again, and her face screwed up in a way I'd never seen before, as if she had to physically concentrate on making her brain work. "I think …"

She stopped, and Char and I both waited to hear what she thought. The teapot started whistling, steam rising from its spout. Mom picked it up and began fixing my tea and seemed as though she forgot what she'd been thinking. I looked at Charlotte who gave me a see-what-I-mean look. I hated seeing Mom like this. What had they done to her? Who? Why?

"Uh … Mom? The witch?"

She looked at me as if confused.

"The witch who gave you the tea?" I prompted.

"Oh. Right." Her brows pushed together with deep concentration. "There was something about her … it bothered me at the time. I couldn't feel the full truth in her intentions. I felt she intended to do more for me … or for the Amadis … than I asked of her, which she had. Because of her, we have you. There was something else, though … I felt she wasn't really a witch." She paused for another long moment and cocked her head. "I think … I think she was really a
faerie
."

"Well, that explains a lot," Char muttered. "But not everything. The faeries had an interest in you and Lucas having a child. Why?"

"Maybe they thought it would be fun to see what happened with a crossbreed," I said. "It's definitely created all kinds of chaos."

"Maybe," Char said, but she didn't sound convinced.

Mom shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't think she was really part of the Otherworld anymore."