Kristie Cook - Devotion

"But, Aunt Sylvie," Blossom begged, "they just need to ask about a girl. You might know–"

"No, child! I don't–"

Three pops behind us cut her off, and we all spun around, hands out.

"That's exactly why I can't help!" The door's slam punctuated Aunt Sylvie's point. I caught enough of her thoughts to realize she knew nothing about a girl and only wanted her coven to be left in peace.

"Who are they?" Blossom whispered.

I knew who. I wanted to know how. How did Vanessa and her cronies find us once again? The surprise in Blossom's voice and in her mind meant this wasn't her doing. I felt out for mind signatures, but these three–Vanessa, her brother and another vampire–were the only non-humans around. Besides the witches in the house, of course, who were scrambling around inside and calling to each other about wands and hide-out spots.

"The vampire bitch we told you about," I whispered back. Vanessa giggled, probably pleased to hear we'd been talking about her, regardless of what had been said.

"You're going to attack in daylight, in the middle of a human neighborhood?" Tristan demanded.

"No, we're not here to fight," Vanessa said.

"Really?" Tristan asked, the single word full of doubt.

"We're obviously out-numbered and out-powered. We're not stupid."

"I beg to differ," Owen muttered under his breath.

"I heard that, warlock," Vanessa's brother barked. "You better watch yourself."

"Oh, stop. The warlock has a point about you, Victor," Vanessa said with a roll of her ice-blue eyes, which landed back on Tristan. "Let's just say I'm not stupid. But I'm beginning to think you are."

Tristan growled. "What are you up to now?"

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. Vampire hearing, you know. We've been watching this place, like we have every other coven, nest, pack, den … well, you get the picture. The Amadis refuse to help you. A little discord in paradise, huh?"

"What's your point, Vanessa?" Tristan asked, his voice still a snarl.

"Well, I'm not surprised," she continued, ignoring Tristan's question. "This is what you've planned all along, right, lover? This nonsense search for a girl when you already know what you really need. This."

She whipped her gloved hand out from behind her back, my necklace still wrapped around her wrist, the pendant dangling from it. She couldn't wear the silver on her bare throat, and Vanessa wasn't the type to wear anything high-necked to protect her skin.

I waved my hand and the pendant swung toward me, but the chain was too strong and too tight to easily come off Vanessa's wrist.

"Too bad you'll never get it," Vanessa sang. "It's mine now and soon enough, Seth will be, too."

Without further thought, I jumped from the front porch toward her, but I was yanked back into Tristan's arms.

"I'm waiting for you, darling," Vanessa said, a gleam in her eyes. "Whenever you're ready to call off this charade and return to me. I have the stone now. Just follow your heart."

And with that, she disappeared, followed by her brother and other crony.

"Damn it!" I squirmed in Tristan's arms. When he let me go, I spun on him. "Why did you stop me?"

"Your reaction was exactly what she wanted. She was taunting us. Especially you. The stone's not worth it."

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

"It's just a rock, Lex. Forget about it."

"You think it's a distraction?" Owen asked.

Tristan's jaw muscle twitched. "Yes. She's trying to take advantage of everything going on with the Amadis. She knows we're falling apart. Which means they all know."

If that were true, if the Daemoni knew the Amadis had internal problems, they knew they could easily take us down. Was that what Vanessa had meant about a charade? About Tristan returning to her, because the Amadis would soon be destroyed? But what did she mean about following his heart? And what did she know about the stone?

I couldn't help but think Tristan knew exactly what she meant. His denial didn't ring true in my ears. The stone was a lot more than just a rock. Once again, suspicion crept under my skin and festered, making me question what else he lied about, besides the stone. I was tempted to listen to his thoughts but then shame and anger overcame me. I can't let Vanessa get to me. The Amadis were doing enough to split us up. I couldn't allow the Daemoni to do so, too.

The weeks flew by entirely too fast, as if the world felt compelled to get to October as quickly as possible. Everything went from bad to worse with each passing day. The number of news reports about Normans disappearing from their lives rose sharply. Tristan blamed "natural" disasters, bizarre "accidents" and tense relations among countries on the Daemoni, as well. The Daemoni liked chaos, he said. They liked human suffering and war. Normans became easy pickings during turbulent and violent times, so the Daemoni were wreaking havoc with inciting incidents across the globe. How far would they go? Would they ever stop?

Having their fun in the Norman world and knowing the Amadis were already experiencing our own turbulence, the Daemoni did the opposite from what I expected. Their attacks on Amadis had actually dwindled. They still watched, however, prohibiting anyone from helping us. Tristan, sometimes with me and sometimes with Owen, made a few flash trips to other states in the Southeast, but no one would talk to us. Most worried about attracting attention of the Daemoni, but others said they'd been ordered by their council representative to give us no assistance. Which we knew to be lies, because Char was their council representative. Someone else threatened them, someone within the Amadis. The closer we came to October, the more we were stonewalled.

Mom and Charlotte had returned to the Amadis Island shortly after leaving us in early August, to find things worse than when they had left. If Mom didn't know Amadis daughters just didn't get ill–not physically or mentally–she said she would have thought Rina had dementia or Alzheimer's, often forgetting things, spacing out and even letting others make important decisions for her. Mom's updates became less and less detailed over time, however, and she made more and more references that things had improved, including Rina.

I knew from Blossom's sources that they had not.

The pressure sometimes became too much for us. Tristan and I fought nearly every day. He refused to tell me about the stone and I refused to drop the subject. My dreams had intensified, and I couldn't shake the feeling the stone and our daughter were somehow connected. I tried to convince him to seek out Bree, the person Lisa had spoken about, but he said we had too many other problems right now to be worrying about what a damn faerie said.

I taught myself Ancient Greek and Latin as a distraction. Tristan thought it was a waste of time, saying if I wanted to learn new languages, I should be focused on useful ones–those I would need while traveling in today's world. For me, however, these nearly obsolete languages were useful. The first and last few pages of the Book of Prophecies & Curses, the only pages I had a close enough look at, were emblazoned in my memory. From Lisa's words, it sounded as though what Tristan had been told might have been a prophecy, and if he didn't want to, or really couldn't, tell me what it was, I hoped to find out on my own.

The process of translation was painstakingly slow, however. Internet translators didn't do a good enough job for anything to make sense, which was why I had to actually learn the languages. At least, enough about them to decipher the prophecies and curses. The fact that they were written in riddles didn't help.

Nothing on the pages in my memory mentioned a stone. I did find the prophecy about Tristan and me, which was fairly simple: "29 February 1736–The one they name for the god of chaos becomes the most powerful warrior for both friend and foe. Likewise, his mate, her soul created for his, shall be the daughter of enemy and ally." I also found, on the first page, what appeared to be a curse about the Amadis sons. Not sure that I translated it correctly, I wrote out what I saw in my memory for Tristan and showed him my translation as he sat at the kitchen table, reviewing stock quotes.