Purpose (27 page)

This was the closest I’d been to her yet and
I felt the evil energy surrounding her. The feeling wasn’t my sixth
sense sounding my Daemoni alarms, either. This was a physical
feeling, as if malevolence emanated from her every cell and froze
the air around us.

Owen sat next to the young woman, their backs
against the railing bars, his arm around her shoulders. I almost
thought Tristan might have been right about Owen’s motivations, but
the look on Owen’s face told me he didn’t hold her out of sexual
want. His eyes were filled with sorrow and his nose wrinkled in
disgust. His mouth twisted, as if he were suffering deep internal
pain. He looked like he wanted nothing better than to let go and
flee from her as far as possible.

Sheree’s body quaked uncontrollably with more
than just the loud sobs, groans and growls escaping her throat. Her
eyes were squeezed shut and her face puckered in concentration,
like someone does when they’re trying hard not to physically lash
out at someone else. I didn’t know if she fought the Daemoni power
or the Amadis power Owen tried to give her.

“Will she shift if she loses control?” I
asked. The Weres in my books would and since I’d been right on so
many other things, I had to know.

“Possibly,” Tristan said.

My heart pounded with the thought of a tiger
bursting out of her body in this small area. Even if she didn’t
mean to, a wild paw could severely injure any of us. Tristan and I
would probably be okay, though it might slow our ability to fight
back while we healed. But not Owen. He didn’t have the same level
of healing ability we did.

“I’m ready if she does,” Tristan added, his
palm already facing Sheree.

I nodded and took a deep breath, thinking
about exactly what to do. I remembered how Rina could just take my
hand and I would feel her Amadis power wash through me. Mom could
do the same, though her power wasn’t quite as strong as Rina’s.
Mine was still very weak, but it might be enough to at least get
Sheree through the night. I sat down in front of her and started to
reach out for her hand.

Pop! Pop!
The sounds were muffled, but
unmistakable.

Owen jumped to his feet. Sheree’s body
slackened, as if released from some unendurable agony. She pulled
in a deep breath, her first in a long time, and exhaled with
relief. Until the musical voice rang across the property. Vanessa’s
voice. We both started shaking. Tristan and Owen just stood there,
at attention, their eyes scanning the landscape.

“There,” Tristan said quietly, lifting his
chin toward a giant entanglement of bushes, vines and mangrove
roots near the water’s edge, but not on our property. Two white
figures stood in the dark shadows.

“They can’t get in,” Owen said.

“Th-they’re here for m-me,” Sheree said, her
hoarse voice full of terror.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Tristan muttered.
“But thanks for bringing them.”

“There’s no way they’d know,” Owen said.
“I’ve been careful with the shields.”

“Then how did they find us?” Tristan seethed
through clenched teeth. “I knew this was a bad idea. It’s stupid,
Owen. You should have never brought her here.”

Owen dropped his head and his shoulders
sagged. He crossed his arms over his chest. His body language
contradicted itself, as if he acknowledged Tristan was right but
still defended his actions. He remained silent, his mouth drawn
into a scowl.

“We need to leave now, before more come,”
Tristan said. “Morning will be too late.”

Owen lifted his head and opened his mouth,
but before he could speak, his pocket rang. He dug the cell phone
out and flipped it open, walking toward the other end of the
balcony as he spoke.

Tristan stared at Sheree, his normally full
lips pressed into a hard line.

“Please don’t make me go back to them. Kill
me first,” she pleaded. “Just don’t send me back.”

Tristan’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know how
tempting that is. You’d be a nice distraction for them while we
attempt to leave…but it’s not going to happen. I’m Amadis now. Only
they
would do something so despicable.”

“Is it even safe to leave?” I asked. “We’re
protected in here, right? Can’t we just stay?”

“Looks like we’ll have to,” Owen said,
returning to us, his phone already put away. “That was Julia.
Atlanta’s not safe. The house is surrounded.”

“Who’s Julia?” I asked, momentarily
distracted by the unfamiliar name.

“One of Rina’s council members, her closest
advisor after Solomon. She went ahead of Rina and Sophia to check
security. Good thing, too.”

Movement in the brush caught all of our eyes.
All four of our heads twisted at once. We watched Vanessa and her
brother walk the perimeter of the shield, testing it every now and
then. Eventually realizing they couldn’t get through anywhere, they
sunk into the shadows.

“Call Rina and Sophia and make sure they
know,” Tristan said. “And try to get some soldiers here
immediately.” He jerked his head toward Vanessa and her brother.
“They won’t leave without a fight.”

Owen pulled his phone back out and headed to
the other end of the balcony as he dialed. Tristan paced our part
of the balcony, his eyes constantly moving from Sheree to me to the
darkness outside. He mumbled under his breath, wondering how
Vanessa had found us. Again.

Owen finally came back. “I couldn’t reach
Sophia or Rina, but I did talk to Solomon. Rina and Sophia boarded
the plane from London to New York hours ago. I’m sure they’ll call
as soon as they land. Solomon’s sending soldiers, along with Julia.
But there’s no one close by to help Sheree. Not until Rina and
Sophia get here.”

“They can’t come here!” I shrieked. “It’s too
dangerous! Especially now that
they
know they’re
coming!”

I flipped my hand toward the last place we
saw Vanessa and her brother.

“Someone can slip them in or I’ll go out to
cloak them myself. And they—” Owen nodded toward the same place
“—can’t hear us, so they don’t know anything. The shield silences
us. We can hear them, but they can’t hear us.”

None of his explanations calmed me. I didn’t
know if I could rely so completely on magic, something I hadn’t
believed truly existed until just this morning. Though he’d proven
himself repeatedly, for some reason, Owen’s powers felt different
to me now…less
him
and more something else I didn’t fully
understand. My own sixth sense had been a part of me for as long as
I could remember, something I could rely on more than any of my
other senses because it had never been wrong. Thinking Owen’s
shield was similar must have allowed me to trust it so much, but
knowing now that magic lay behind it all…that we trusted our
lives
with something out of fairy tales…it was just a lot to
try to accept in one day.

I could almost feel Vanessa’s eyes boring
into us, whether she could actually see us or not. I didn’t see how
Mom and Rina would ever get past her. I didn’t know why they would
even want to try. They weren’t reckless by nature…which meant they
did
trust Owen’s magical capabilities. And if they could, I
needed to. I really had no choice right now anyway.

I took a few calming breaths, trying to blow
the anxiety out of my body. At least, the anxiety about Mom and
Rina. I still had this task in front of me. Literally sitting in
front of me, her eyes wide and her lower lip trembling.

“Let’s just focus on this,” I said. I looked
into Sheree’s terror-filled eyes. “We already know it’s going to
hurt. Tell us if you can’t handle it. If you wait until it’s too
much and you do something harmful—to me or anyone else, including
yourself—I don’t know what these guys will do to you, but I’m sure
it won’t be good. Understand?”

She nodded and her voice came out in a rough
whisper. “Just help me or kill me. That’s all I ask.”

I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Then I
lifted both hands toward her. Just as I was in reach, an electric
current shot out of my left hand. I hopped backward on my butt.
Sheree had nowhere to go, her back already pressed against the
railing, but she shrank away as far as possible.

“Sorry,” I muttered, scooting back toward
her.

Tristan stepped right behind me, placing a
foot on each side of my hips and standing over me. His forearm came
into my vision, over my head, his palm facing Sheree. “This is a
really bad idea.”

“You already said that,” I said.

“And I still think it is.” The words came out
as a snarl. “There are better solutions—like waiting.”

I twisted my head to look up at him. “Haven’t
we learned that the
best
solution is not always the
right
solution?”

He tugged his eyes from Sheree to look at me.
The green bands were dark and the gold sparkles dim as his eyes
held mine, filled with concern. He exhaled a surrendering sigh and
nodded just slightly. Then he looked back to Sheree, his body
coiling, ready for action.

I raised just my right hand this time,
reaching out toward Sheree. She hesitated. Then she lifted her own
hand and clasped her fingers around mine.

Piercing needles of pain shot through my
hand. A toe-curling scream wailed from both of our mouths. Her hand
was glacial and it felt as if my own froze in her grasp. My blood
went cold, ice traveling through my arm, up to my shoulder, into
the bones. But we held on tightly to each other.

Owen dropped to his knees next to Sheree, his
hands moving around her but not on her, as if afraid to touch her.
Tristan stood over me, his palm still facing Sheree. He was
prepared to shoot her if and when necessary. I almost begged him
for the warmth a fiery ball would provide as the icy sensation
continued rushing through my blood. The bitter hatred from the
other night started overcoming me again, turning my vision red. My
throat felt like I swallowed sandpaper and I realized I still
screamed. I clamped my jaw shut, forcing myself to stop.

Various images popped into my head, like the
slideshow of my dreams before Tristan’s return. But these weren’t
familiar visions. They were Sheree’s memories.

I felt her painful transition into a tiger
the first time she’d shifted and saw the full, white moon in a
clear sky. She had no idea what happened to her and terror
overwhelmed her. Then appeared an unfamiliar face talking to her,
his mouth moving, but I couldn’t hear the words. Then she was
traveling and I knew we were seeing through tiger eyes. The
perspective seemed lower than it would be from her height, but
taller than if she crawled, just a little taller than me.

We stalked through the woods, the stranger
beside us. Tall pines reached for the night sky. A lake in front of
us reflected a full moon. A couple sat by the water’s edge. Our
stomach growled with an emptiness as if we hadn’t eaten for days.
The man slid a collar off our neck and hissed. The sound incited
something within us. We ran for the couple, letting out a roar just
as we attacked.

I screamed out loud. Sheree let out a
mournful sob.

An image of frozen terrain flashed and then
we were in caves. My heart settled its frantic pace. This image I
knew. I’d just envisioned it yesterday, when Tristan told me about
his imprisonment and escape. How had I pictured this place so
perfectly?

“
Because it’s home. Your other home
,”
a voice inside my head whispered. “
Your
real
home.
”

The voice didn’t belong to Sheree. Not to
Owen or to Tristan. It belonged to me. It was the cold, evil one
I’d heard before Tristan’s return. The one I thought had
disappeared when my own sanity returned. Evil Alexis.

No!
I silently protested, shutting
that voice down.
I know it from Tristan.

Then I realized that was exactly why the
image had been so accurate. I hadn’t imagined the caves when
Tristan told me about them. I’d actually seen what he saw in his
mind’s eye as he told me. I just hadn’t known I could read minds
then. Just yesterday. And now here I was, seeing Sheree’s visual
memories.

As she remembered, she unintentionally shared
with me the dark caves where she was free to roam inside, but could
never leave. We went to Tristan’s space. Various images of him in
there over time—sometimes sitting, sometimes standing, sometimes
pacing and sometimes curled into a ball—flashed across my vision.
She’d been watching him.

The scene abruptly changed to Key West and I
saw myself walking down the alley, from her perspective. The image
changed again. The time must have been later. Vanessa, her brother
and their friends were back, kicking Sheree in her human form, then
throwing her around, as if they played a game of hot potato. I saw
the wall coming toward us. I heard her thought, “
I’m not going
to shift. I won’t be like them
,” just before slamming against
the wall. Then blackness. Then Owen’s face. The cold voice inside
me hissed.

A new vision popped into my head. I saw
through Sheree’s tiger eyes again. But this wasn’t a memory. This
image had a different quality, a different texture to it. Her
current thoughts flooded my mind and I almost pulled away from her.
She stalked toward me in her mind, just as she’d done with that
couple by the lake. And then she jumped at me. Her sharp claws dug
diagonally across my face.

“No!” I said aloud. “Stop it!”

“What?” Sheree wailed. “I can’t stop
anything!”

“
I want it. I want it so bad
,” she
thought. “
I want to rip your throat out. I want to taste your
sweet blood, devour your tender meat.
”

But her hand remained tightly clasped around
mine as she fought the urge.

“
You want it, too. You know you do
,”
my own cold voice said
. “You want to fight her. You want to kill
her.
”