Kristie Cook - Devotion

"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."

"What do you mean you don't think? Don't you know the truth?" I demanded.

"That's part of my problem. I haven't felt the real truth in things for a while. It's so … disorienting. And my memories aren't quite as clear as they usually are. Yes … I think she had lost some of her Otherworldliness."

"You think she was ousted?" Char asked.

"Not exactly. I felt then she was helping the Amadis, and faeries, as a group, don't get involved in our affairs. Not to this extent. She'd gone through such lengths to disguise herself and make sure I drank that potion. I thought her intent was about converting Lucas, so I didn't think much of it at the time."

Mom stopped again, and her expression bothered me. She looked so lost, not like herself at all. I was about to ask if she really was okay, but both the front and back doors burst open at the same time. Owen dropped Mom and Char's luggage in the foyer and rushed into the kitchen just as Tristan pulled Dorian through the rear door.