Kristie Cook - Devotion

"What?" I shrieked. "You can't do this! You can't force me to marry anyone!"

Mom grabbed me by the waist, but I struggled against her.

"You are an Amadis daughter. If you are loyal to us, you will do what's best for the Amadis," Armand warned. "I second the motion."

"No! You can't do this!" I yelled louder, fighting against Mom's tight grip.

"All in favor?" Martin asked unenthusiastically, his voice loaded with defeat. I thrashed against Mom as I watched seven hands rise … against six that didn't.

Mass confusion broke out in the crowd, drowning out my cries of refusal.

"Martin didn't vote," someone called out above all the other voices and the crowd quieted.

"What's your vote, Martin?" someone else asked.

"What does it matter?" a vaguely familiar, gravelly voice said. I thought it belonged to Ferrer, the blacksmith, but I couldn't see his stooped frame in the crowd. "This is not a democracy. It's up to the matriarch. She must make the final decision."

"What say you, Ms. Katerina?" an old, small witch at the front of the crowd asked.

Rina didn't answer, but only stared at the dais. Martin pressed his lips together.

"I did not vote because I will make the final decision," he finally said. "I have been asked to take the rule for the time being. Katerina Camilla Ames has removed herself as matriarch."

And all hell broke loose.

People yelled at the council, at Martin, at Rina and at each other. The rise of emotions literally heated the room. The crowd began pushing their way toward the dais, demanding answers.

"Silence!" Solomon's voice boomed over the chaos and everyone obeyed, more out of being startled than anything. He looked every bit vampire at this moment. "We are taking a recess. Everyone out!"

When nobody moved and the protests broke out again, the council left the room themselves. The two warlock-guards led Tristan out the back, too, and Rina, Mom and I headed for the same door we came through, Mom half-carrying me.

"Rina, you have to do something!" I said as soon as the three of us were alone in the holding room. "They're obviously framing him. You can stop this."

When she looked at me, her mahogany eyes wide and moist, I could tell the fight had completely left her. "There is nothing I can do, Alexis dear. They will not listen to me. Let Martin handle this. He will do the right thing."

I whirled on Mom, and she held up her hand.

"Martin will take them in private quarters and talk sense into them," she said. "They've put their trust in him, honey. He'll take care of this and they'll have to go along with him now."

"You have listened to his thoughts, no?" Rina asked. "You know what he will do."

"I'm blocked," I said. "I can't hear anyone and no one can hear me."

"Then the traitor is here, in the crowd," Rina said.

"Obviously. No doubt creating all this mayhem to distract everyone from what's really going on. Probably influencing everyone in that room, especially with those bogus test results. And if destroying the Amadis is her goal, she's doing a damn good job of it."

Mom sat in a wingback chair in the seating area. "As soon as Martin takes care of this, we can move on and address the issue of the real traitor. We just have to wait now."

I sank onto one end of the couch across from her. "For how long?"

Mom shrugged. "For as long as it takes for him to feel he can overrule their vote without causing too many problems among them. He has to do it diplomatically, or we'll have even more trouble on our hands."

"You're sure he's with us?" I asked. "I mean, they want me to marry Owen. He might want– Wait. Where is Owen? He's not really in the hospital is he?"

"I sent him on an errand," Rina murmured.

"Oh." I snorted. "I thought maybe he ran away, before they forced him to marry me." The idea sounded appealing, much better than annulling my marriage and being forced together with Owen. If only I could talk Tristan into it. He, Dorian and I could get away from here for good, escape the crazies, as Charlotte had called them. Now I understood fully. But I didn't understand why Rina would send Owen away now, during such an important trial. His future was at stake, too, after all.

"Alexis," Rina said, and I looked over my shoulder at her. She stood where she had earlier, leaning against the wall and watching out the window, still looking just as forlorn. "Have you been able to lower your shield yet?"

"No. Why does it matter, though? I can't communicate with one person, let alone more."

She turned her head toward me and pierced me with fierce eyes. "You are powerful enough to break the block. You can do this. You must do it."

Then she turned back to the window and fell silent again. The woman was as crazy as the rest of them, and I no longer knew what to think of her. One moment, she acted like my grandmother, caring and protective. And the next, she appeared to have given up and acceded to everyone against us.

Someone knocked on the door, but didn't wait for an answer. Charlotte strode in, closed the door behind her and handed a sheet of paper to Rina.

"We'll be reconvening soon," Char said.

"Already?" Mom asked.

"We have to. We have to wrap this up, settle everything else and get out of here. We're needed in the field. The Daemoni have increased their attacks."

Rina gasped. I thought she reacted to Char's statement, but when I looked at her, her face looked white as snow, and she held the paper out. "It cannot be true," she whispered.

Mom made a move, but I was closer. I snatched the paper out of Rina's hands, and my eyes fell upon the test results. I'd never seen a normal DNA report, but this surely wasn't anything like it. Not when phrases such as "dark magic levels," "total magical quotient" and "individualized abilities" plastered it. There were also what I assumed traditional phrases: "alleged father," "child," "alleged mother," "genetic markers" and "probability percentage." I ignored the interpretation and studied the details for myself–numbers on a page. The child's numbers were nowhere near the alleged mother's. Lilith and I were remotely related, if at all.

But … the breath caught in my lungs, and my heart stilled. The paper rattled in my trembling hands.

"Is this … is this right?" I choked, hoping against everything that it wasn't. Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the results.

"I'm sorry, Alexis," Char said.

I shook my head violently. "No. It's not possible. They're only numbers. Just numbers. Anyone could fill those in however they want to!"

"I checked with my friend, the wizard-doctor who ran the tests. He said there's no doubt. The girl's genetic markers are very similar to Tristan's."

I blinked away the tears and glared at her. "Then your friend must be working for them. For the traitor. He's part of the set-up."

Of course that was it. He had to be part of it all. Because otherwise …

"I'm sorry," Char said again, pity written all over her face.

"I don't want your apologies!" I nearly yelled. "I don't want your pity. I want the truth!"

Charlotte held out a white envelope I hadn't noticed in her hand before. "Tristan expected the same thing, so he had Owen take samples to his own guy in London. This just came in, after Martin called for the recess. Tristan said to deliver it straight to you, and you would know what to do with the truth. No one else has seen what it says."

I stared at the envelope held between us. Such an innocuous object, paper with markings on it. An object that could be destroyed so easily–torn to bits, held to a flame, disintegrated with water and flushed down a drain–yet could hold enough power to decimate a kingdom, start or end a war, free the imprisoned innocent, lift the souls of the downtrodden … and break the hearts of lovers. For the paper and the ink didn't hold the real power. They were simply tools used by people. No, the power lay in the message contained within.