Kristie Cook - Devotion

"Mimi," Dorian squealed, and he ran into Mom's arms. "I missed you!"

"Did you get my text?" Owen asked Tristan.

"Sure did," Tristan said, holding his phone up. "Let's move."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I finally got word about the Okeechobee wolf pack," Owen said. "They're gathering tonight, and I know exactly where."

"We're going for a bike ride," Tristan said. "Get dressed."

I moved for the doorway but Char grabbed my wrist. She held the mug out to me. "Drink up. Then Sophia and I have something for you."

I pinched my nose and swallowed the foul tea in three large gulps. A shudder ran up my spine, and I fought my stomach's desire to expel the liquid back the way it came.

"A little early to be drinking hard stuff, don't you think?" Owen asked.

"Come on," Char said, ignoring her son. She took my wrist again and pulled me toward their luggage in the foyer.

"Can't this wait?" Tristan asked. "It's not exactly a short ride."

"I don't like this idea one bit, Tristan," Mom said, sounding like my mother again, at least for a moment, "but … you will at least have as much protection as possible. Especially Alexis."

Tristan threw me a questioning look. He saw the changes in Mom, too. Before, she would have been adamant about trying to stop us, saying it was an absurd idea. I returned his gaze with one that said, "I'll tell you later."

Char opened one of the suitcases, grabbed something black, examined it and tossed it to Owen. She picked up something else and tossed it to Tristan. She continued throwing things at them and finally started tossing stuff to me. First, a black leather jacket. It wasn't heavy; in fact, the leather was thin and supple, and it reminded me of the one Char herself wore. Second, a bustier made of black leather and adorned with purple-dyed suede and silver embellishments. Third, pants made of the same kind of leather as the jacket and a belt with several loops hanging from it, and, finally, a pair of combat boots.

"Are we going to a bike rally? Is this supposed to make me fit in?" I asked, not quite understanding why Char and Mom brought me leathers. Not that I had any–we weren't the rally kind of bikers, and I didn't need them to protect my skin from road burn.

"These are warrior clothes," Char said. "What we all wear out in the field. The leather's enchanted for maximum protection."

Warrior clothes. Of course. We could no longer leave home without being prepared for a fight.

"And your weapons," Char said, waving her hand over the suitcase. She lifted what had appeared to be the bottom of it, exposing a hidden section. She handed me a small knife that flipped in and out of its own hilt, much like a pocket knife, but bigger. "This is your back-up weapon."

I took it and examined it, flipping it a few times to get used to it. Then she pulled out something longer, nearly as long as my forearm. A silver vine with leaves wound around the gold hilt, circling to the center, where it ended with an amethyst the size of a nickel. The blade hid in a black and purple sheath that matched my bustier.

"Your dagger, Ms. Alexis," Char said with a bow of her head as she held the hilt toward me.

I took the dagger and pulled it out of its sheath. The sun coming through the window shone through an intricate design of vines and leaves that was cut out of the center of the blade.

"It's a hand-me-down," Mom said. "The same dagger Andrew gave to Cassandra."

Wow. I actually held Cassandra's dagger. Andrew's dagger. Specially made in the Otherworld. My earliest ancestors had once wielded this same weapon.

"Of course, Ferrer enchanted it to take your powers," Char said.

"You remember how to use it?" Tristan asked.

I stepped back and made a few moves. Then Char showed me how swiping my thumb over the amethyst could make the dagger disappear and appear again.

"Not even metal detectors will sense it," she said.

"It would have been nice to have this all before," I said. "Like when we first left and had to fight Vanessa all the time."

"It wasn't ready yet," Char said.

"Then they wouldn't let us bring it to you the first time we came," Mom added.

"They didn't exactly let us bring it this time either," Char said.

"We were always good at covert operations," Mom said with a smile.

"Thanks to Martin and his help, too," Char added and Mom nodded.

Owen looked at his phone. "We need to get out of here, big guy. I'll be back in a few."

He disappeared with a pop. Tristan and I quickly changed into our new gear. I expected the leather to be difficult to pull on and uncomfortable to wear, but it came on easily and molded itself to my body, like a second skin. I moved around in it, and after a few minutes, I felt both naked, as if nothing impeded me, yet protected at the same time. I thought I might have found clothes I liked almost as much as shorts and T-shirts.

I was never one who found guys in leather pants sexy, but Tristan changed my mind. At least, for him. The leather didn't cling to him as it did me, but fit him like jeans, accentuating the curve of his perfect ass, but not in a porn-star kind of way. He showed me how to secure my weapons in my belt loops for easiest retrieval, and he filled his with his own dagger, knives and discs. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught our reflections as we strode past the bedroom mirror for the door. We looked as though we belonged on the set of some post-apocalyptic movie where the characters were armed up to fight zombies. Of course, we fought vampires, mages and shape-shifters, not zombies. I didn't think.

"Do zombies exist?" I asked Tristan.

"Only if the Daemoni want to create them. Which they might, if we really do go to war."

"I wish you wouldn't do this," Mom said standing in front of the back door, blocking our way, and I thought maybe she'd returned to herself. But then she moved to the side. "But I realize you're going to anyway. Who am I to stop you now? I don't even know the truth anymore."

"That's what we're looking for, Mom. The truth."

She nodded. "I know."

Char took my hand and rubbed my thumb over the dagger's hilt, making the weapon disappear. "No need for that hanging off your waist as you're driving down the highway."

That's when I realized how dangerous this trip really was. The Weres didn't pose the real threat. Although they'd been avoiding us, they would fight for us if they had to. The true danger came from the exposure. Owen couldn't cloak us, otherwise other drivers wouldn't see us on the road.

"Why are we taking the bikes?" I asked as Tristan and I headed out to the garage.

"We're going to a bike rally."

I ignored his obvious point. "I mean, a car's safer, isn't it? We could do it how we did when we went to Daytona."

"Owen can't get a hold of Blossom, who probably can't drop everything for us anyway. Sophia's in no shape to go, Char has to stay with her and they both have to stay with Dorian. Besides, if we're going to put our lives in danger, we may as well have fun doing it." He grinned and winked at me, and I forgot my concerns.

At least until we merged onto I-75 and the lights of magic spells and curses bombarded us.

Although he couldn't cloak us for our own driving safety, Owen had shielded us before we left, so the red and blue lights coming from the truck behind us bounced off the invisible bubbles protecting us. One collided with a car, sending it careening into another lane and causing an accident.

"This isn't good," I cried out to Tristan over the screech of scraping metal and the roar of the bike.

"No shit," he muttered.

"Alexis!" Owen called to my mind. "I have to cloak us, or they won't stop."

I still couldn't open my mind between two other people, not even Tristan and Owen, so I had to relay between them. Owen pulled up next to us, lifted both hands from the handlebars and thrust them out at us several times, then did the same to himself and he disappeared. I could no longer see Owen or his motorcycle, or Tristan or ours, for that matter. Without any kind of structure enclosing us, he had to cloak the bikes and each of us individually. I clung to Tristan, though, and felt the rumble underneath me. Brakes squealed and the acrid smell of hot rubber burned my nose as drivers around us panicked at our disappearance.