Kristie Cook - Devotion

"We are working on it," Tristan said. "I personally guarantee it."

My face heated and surely became redder than the tomato on Minh's hat. To add to my complete embarrassment, Solomon spoke up as a witness to confirm we were, indeed, working on it. Once again, I wanted to crawl under the table and never come out again.

My head pounded. The concentration of listening to everyone's minds, the frustration of not learning anything and the tension of this topic were like hammers taking turns on my brain. I felt so inadequate, in more ways than one, and didn't want to disappoint Rina again. Since I hadn't brought her the next daughter, I could at least do better with my so-called gift. So I tried once again, painstakingly pushing the cloud to only the mages, besides Owen, Charlotte and Martin.

The conversation heated, though, making concentration on anyone's thoughts difficult. Voices grew loud and hands waved about as everyone's emotional investment in this became clear. I tried to ignore the feeling of being personally attacked, even as my breaths grew shallow and my soul felt as though they physically pounded it. Just focus on your task. Don't worry about them. Tristan will take care of it.

But it was too much. The emotions–mine and everyone else's–overwhelmed me. My wall I kept so carefully in place crumbled. The thoughts came crashing in, wave after wave beating at my mind, swirling and tumbling about, pulling me under. I couldn't distinguish thoughts from spoken words, let alone specific voices, except those I was most familiar with.

"Give them two years."

"Too long. One year."

"No, six months."

"There are other possibilities to consider, too."

"Not Tristan. Never right. Shouldn't be here. Owen … the right mate."

I gulped for air. My heart raced. I had no idea what thoughts Rina could hear or if she totally depended on me, but I was failing. A silent scream to her or Tristan or Owen that I needed help clawed at my mind, but I held it back, afraid I'd lose control and everyone would "hear" me, ruining everything.

"We don't need deadlines or other possibilities," Rina said. "Tristan and Alexis are supposed to be together, their souls are made for each other. We must trust the Angels. They have told me there will be a daughter after Alexis."

"I feel that truth. Tristan and Alexis have a daughter in their future," Mom added.

"Not good enough. We need a daughter now!"

"We must take this into our own hands."

"Stupid women. Basing everything on their feelings and non-existent messages from the Angels. Of course Alexis won't get pregnant. We already have the girl. We just need to keep her hidden a little longer …"

I gasped, choking on a swelling rage. My eyes burned with angry tears and my throat constricted. The words ricocheted around my mind like an angry wasp desperate to find its way out. "We already have the girl. We already have the girl." I gripped my chair tightly, trying in vain to control the tremors racking my body. Trying to control the urge to jump to my feet and demand answers. But I couldn't say anything. I couldn't even acknowledge the words. I had to bear the sting each time they hit me.

Tristan laid his hand on mine, and I took his and squeezed it hard. I couldn't breathe. My vision swam. I have to get out of here. Now! I knew there was a way to escape, but the how wasn't coming to mind. My brain lost all function as it remained stuck on those five words. I looked at Tristan with desperation. He nodded and took me in his arms. The air whooshed out of my lungs and the meeting room disappeared.

We appeared in our suite at the mansion, and I sucked in a lungful of oxygen and fell to my knees. My heart still raced and my body still shook. And my mind still reeled.

"Holy … shit," I whispered between pants. "Holy. Shit."

Tristan sat on the bed in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and studied my face.

"You heard something?" he asked. I nodded, slowly, my eyes bugging. "What?"

We already have the girl. The words echoed in my head.

Before I could share them, though, a pop came from the sitting room. I froze. What had we left behind? I'd lost all control at the end. I might have shared everything I'd been hearing with everyone else. If whoever had blocked Rina–the traitor–knew I'd heard that thought and came after me … but no. Tristan didn't hear what I heard. And I recognized the familiar scent in the front room.

"Owen," Tristan and I both said as my protector appeared in the open doorway to the bedroom.

"At your service," he said. "Is everything okay?"

"Do they know anything?" Tristan asked.

Owen shook his head. "Sophia told them Alexis gets all whacked out about the next daughter and she probably needed air." He peered at me and then Tristan. "Well, not those exact words. I think she said, 'especially sensitive.' So … what happened?"

Tristan studied my face and must have seen I wanted to tell him first. Alone. "Guard the door," he told Owen. "Just in case."

Owen narrowed his eyes for a brief moment, but then he shrugged and disappeared to stand outside the door to our suite. Tristan turned back to me.

"So?" he asked.

I stared at him, suddenly unable to say it. Unable to put the words in the right order. Unable to believe them. Owen's appearance and the threat of the traitor had been enough to distract me from the urgency of the actual words. From the reality of hearing them.

"Tristan …" I started. I swallowed, hard, my throat dry and tight. "We … we might already have … a daughter."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Explain."

I recalled the chaos of the meeting, everyone yelling aloud and in their heads and how I heard all of it. The energy and urgency returned in full force. I sprang to my feet and paced while rehashing for him everything I'd heard … including how it had sounded as though we already had a daughter and someone kept her hidden from us. By the time I finished, he was shaking his head.

"That's absurd, Alexis. No one on the council would have done that."

I stopped pacing and put my hands on my hips.

"I know what I heard. Would you ever think anyone on the council would be a traitor in the first place? Of course not! But that's exactly why I was listening."

"But hiding a daughter … what would be the point?"

"You tell me. You're the great seer of the best solution to everything."

He leaned his elbows on his knees and pressed his hands together, resting his chin on the steeple his fingers formed. He sat silently for a moment, his eyes far off as he considered the options.

"I guess it would make sense," he finally said, "to keep her safe. If the Amadis weren't aware of her, then the Daemoni wouldn't be either. But it's impossible. Rina and Sophia would know."

He was right. Although I'd had a difficult time giving birth to Dorian, actually passed out for part of it, Mom and Rina had been present the whole time. I thought they had been, anyway.

"What if they stepped out of the room while I was out of it? What if someone else flashed in there?"

Tristan shook his head again. "They would have been too protective. They wouldn't have left you. And that's not entirely what I meant. Rina would have heard someone's thoughts about it. Sophia would have felt the truth there was already a daughter."

I paced again as I considered this and stopped in front of Tristan. "But if they can block Rina's telepathy, they might be able to block Mom's power, too."

We stared into each other's eyes as we continued to consider this possibility. Mine filled with tears. What if I do have a daughter? She'd been out there for seven years without me, someone else raising her. Did she know about us–her parents, her twin brother? Who took care of her? How did they treat her? Do they love her? The tears fell.