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Authors: Kristie Cook

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Heather’s hands gripped Tristan’s arms as she struggled to
sit up. “Do it, Alexis,” she implored. “Do what you need to, now, tonight, I
beg
you!”

The girl’s pleas pulled at my heart, but what was I
thinking? Her hopes were already flying, but I’d only disappoint her. I had almost
no experience with conversions. We had a safe house, but no staff to manage it.
Whose lives would I be risking by bringing our enemy there with no one but
Tristan and me to babysit her until we had help for the conversion? We couldn’t
dare leave her alone. And what about Dorian? What if something went wrong, and
she got to him, then whisked him away? Could I risk my son’s life like that?


You can’t think that
way, Alexis. You are an Amadis daughter.

Not-Cassandra was right, and this was my purpose—defending
souls such as Sonya’s. She deserved this from me. They all did, but especially
Sonya, because I felt somewhat responsible for her being in this position in
the first place. I couldn’t turn my back on her when she needed me so badly.
Helping her was my duty, and I’d find some way to do it and keep Dorian safe at
the same time.


That’s right. You
just need to trust yourself.

Let’s do it, Tristan
.
He blinked at me again, as if he didn’t understand.
Now, while we have the chance. Go on. Do it!

Right when I was about to reach over and smack some sense
into him, he shook himself, gave me a strange look, then lifted his hand. He
blasted his power at Sonya, knocking her out. The vampire dropped to the
ground, and Heather screamed.

“Shh!” I clamped a hand over her mouth. “It’s the only way
to get her to Captiva. She’ll be fine.” The girl fell silent, but I felt
obligated to add, “Well, as fine as we can hope for under the circumstances.”

Because, really, who knew if she’d be fine? Under my unskilled
care, we could both be dead by tomorrow.

Tristan scooped Sonya into his arms, and Heather, still
feeling a little shaky, climbed on my back before we sped to Tristan’s truck.
As he unlocked doors and gave orders, I kept my mind’s eye on the signatures
all around us, scanning for any Daemoni who might try to stop us. Tristan
climbed in the backseat of the truck with Sonya, ready to paralyze or knock her
out again if she came to. Heather sat in the front passenger seat, and I cursed
as I drove the big-ass truck out of the parking lot and onto what seemed to be
roads way too narrow for the extra-wide tires. I hated driving the truck. But
so far, so good—no one followed.

At least, until we were halfway across the bridge connecting
the island to the mainland.

A red Corvette zoomed up next to us and a yellow Hummer
roared up behind us. The blue light of a mage’s spell hit the side of Tristan’s
truck, and Heather screamed. I cursed that Owen wasn’t here to shield us.

“Floor it!” Tristan ordered, and I pressed the gas pedal as
far as it would go.

Another spell hit us, rocking the truck on its wheels. We
left the bridge, the red brake lights of a car in front of us shone, and I
jerked the steering wheel to the left, jumping onto the median to pass the
little car. The Hummer and the Corvette stayed with us. I pushed the truck as
fast as it would go.

“Red light,” Heather whispered, then her words came out in a
shriek. “Alexis, red light!”

I eased off the gas, but Tristan yelled, “No! You have to go
through it. They’re right on our ass.”

Besides the Daemoni in the car and the Hummer, I sensed no
nearby mind signatures on the roads this late at night, but my heart still
raced as if trying to match the speed of the truck as we flew through the
intersection. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, my white knuckles
practically glowed in the dark.

“Turn right at that light up there,” Tristan said. “Let’s
try to lose them.”

“But the Corvette’s in the right lane. I’ll have to cut
across it.”

“Exactly. They won’t see it coming. Just get far enough
ahead of them.”

“Oh, dear God, stay with us,” I muttered,
and you, too, Cassandra, if that’s really
you
, I added as I floored the gas pedal again, shot ahead of the red sports
car and made the hard right turn at the last minute. I swore the driver’s side
wheels came off the ground as Heather’s head slammed against the window. The Vette’s
tires squealed as it made the turn, the Hummer right behind it.

I glanced in my rearview to see the Hummer pull into the
lane of oncoming traffic, up to the side of the sports car. They drove
side-by-side for a moment, then the car slowed down and the Hummer sped up. I
caught the driver’s thoughts as he approached.

“They’re going to hit us!” I screeched right before the
Hummer banged into the truck’s bumper. I gripped the wheel tighter, trying not
to lose control. They slammed into us harder, and the wheel tried to jerk away
from me.

“Right,” Tristan barked. “Now!”

I made a sharp right, running over the curb. The Hummer
followed in my tracks.

“I can’t do this, Tristan. I don’t know how to drive like
this.”

“You have to,
ma
lykita.
Just do as I say.”

“I don’t even know where we are!”

“Stay calm. Panic won’t—”

The Hummer hit us again, pushing the truck into the other
lane of traffic. I yanked the wheel barely in time before hitting an oncoming
delivery truck, but that overcorrection sent us careening toward a light post.
I slammed on the brake, probably not the smartest thing to do. Our rear end
began fishtailing, and the Hummer spun a one-eighty to miss hitting us.

The next thing I knew, Tristan’s hands were on the wheel,
regaining control before we crashed. Without taking his eyes off the situation
outside, he somehow maneuvered himself into the driver’s spot and me onto the
center console. I scrambled to the backseat, not even trying to figure out how he’d
switched places with me. Not caring, because already I felt safer. With a
couple of strategic turns, he’d outdriven the Daemoni and lost them completely.
We all let out a collective breath of relief as he pulled onto a quiet street
headed to Captiva.

“You start driving lessons tomorrow,” Tristan muttered.

When we turned onto the road that headed for the causeway to
Sanibel, Sonya moaned next to me. Her eyes slowly opened. Her hand went to her
throat.

“Thirsty,” she groaned.

Heather turned in her seat to look at her sister. Her eyes
widened with alarm.

“Thirsty,” Sonya said again, more insistently this time, her
eyes locked on the only Norman in the truck.

“Take care of her, Alexis,” Tristan said.

Before he could explain, Sonya threw herself toward Heather.
I caught the vampire just in time and wrestled her back to her seat.

“What do I do?” I asked, struggling to keep the vamp pinned
down.

“You’ll have to stab her,” Tristan said.


What?

“With your dagger. Right in the heart.”

“No!” Heather and I both shrieked.

“Dammit, Alexis, do it! You won’t kill her. You
know
that.”

“Why can’t you—”

“Because I might hit
you
.”

Sonya thrashed under me, and now her eyes locked on my
throat.
Crap
. If she drank any of my
powerful blood, all hell would break loose. My heart slammed against my rib
cage as I drew out my dagger. I pulled in a deep breath as I lifted it and blew
the air out as I plunged the blade down, squeezing my eyes shut at the last moment.

Heather screamed.

Warm and wet splatters peppered my face.

Sonya fell limp, her eyes staring at me without seeing. After
three tries, my hands shook so badly, I finally managed to push her eyelids
closed.

We zoomed through the toll plaza, and I was thankful for the
SunPass we had to automatically pay the toll. I could only imagine what a booth
attendant would think if they got a good look of the truck, inside and out. At
some point when this all settled, Tristan would be pissed.

With shaking hands, I wiped the blood off my face, then retrieved
my cell phone and scrolled through the numbers until I found Charlotte’s. Just
my luck that she didn’t answer.

“Char,” I said to her voicemail, my voice trembling as much
as my hands, “I have a problem and … uh … could really use your help. We … um …
we can get started on that training any time now. Like—
right
now.”

I pressed End and stared out the window at the darkness
underneath us as we crossed the bridge to Sanibel. Heather sobbed, and I
reached up to smooth her hair, but she jerked away from me.

“It’s all my fault,” she cried. “I shouldn’t have …”

“Shh. She’ll be okay,” I said. “We’ll take care of her.”

She looked at me with a swollen, wet face, trying hard not
to let her eyes drift toward her sister, who sat limply behind Tristan with a
dagger in her heart. “Are … are you sure?”

“Yes, this is what we do,” I said, hoping I sounded more
confident than I felt.

Tristan stopped in front of our house. “Take care of her,
Lex. I’ll take Sonya. Meet me there when you’re done.”

“No,” Heather said, shaking her head. “I’m going with her.”

“You can’t,” I said. “This … you don’t want to be there.
Trust me.”

“I’m not leaving her!”

I slid out of the truck, opened the front passenger’s door
and grasped Heather’s shoulders. “Please don’t fight me on this. It could get
really ugly and Sonya won’t want you to see her like that. If you love her at
all, let her be for now.”

Her eyes flitted to the backseat, and immediately returned
to me as if she regretted looking back there. She probably did. It was a
gruesome sight. With obvious reluctance, Heather half-slid/half-fell out of the
truck and into my arms. I walked her to the door of my house, and Tristan took
off.

Blossom
, I thought
as I stood outside my house, watching Heather go inside. I didn’t have time or
the energy to go in and try to pretend everything was normal on behalf of my
son. The witch appeared outside with me, and I told her what happened.

“Crazy,” she said. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

I shrugged. “I have to be, don’t I? If Char arrives—”

Blossom squeezed my arm. “I’ll send her right over. Don’t
worry about a thing here. I’ve got Dorian
and
Heather taken care of.”

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” I said, worried about
Heather’s mental and emotional state.

“I promise.”

With a nod, I flashed to the courtyard of the new safe
house, one of the oldest mansions on Captiva that the Amadis had procured. The
main part of the mansion faced the beach with the island’s road running between
the estate and the sand. From the street, the mansion appeared to be two
stories tall, with a grand stone staircase leading to the front door. In back,
however, was a courtyard with a pool and the first “floor” was an outdoor
kitchen for entertaining. What you couldn’t see from the road were the two
perpendicular wings that connected to each end of the main house and another
wing in back, creating a nearly perfect square. The rear, right corner,
however, was open, where the driveway entered a parking area.

The kitchen, a dining room, rooms for gathering and
entertainment, a conference room, and offices were part of the main house. Five
guest rooms made up the right wing, and two master suites and a smaller room
were in the left wing. The rear wing was meant for live-in staff, but I called
it the dungeons.

Once I’d signed the purchase papers on behalf of the Amadis
for the safe house, new shipments arrived almost every day to furnish the
mansion. But not only standard furniture. Besides regular beds, dressers, and
sofas, the shipments included hospital beds with silver restraints, thick iron
chains coated in silver that Tristan had to bolt into concrete walls, and a
variety of medical equipment. Rina, Mom, and Charlotte together had been making
preparations for my training and my new role, but so far, the safe house had no
live occupants. Until now, anyway.

Tristan’s truck sat in the driveway, and he was pulling the
vampire out of the backseat when I appeared.

“My poor truck,” he muttered as he carried Sonya inside, and
something about the way he said it made me want to chuckle.

“I think it could use a good detail,” I said, stifling
another giggle with this understatement of the year as I rushed to the house to
open the door for him.

Neither of us cared about the truck, of course, but this
little exchange was some kind of way to make everything that had happened tonight
less real. Or perhaps more real. After staring death in the face several times
and still not believing everyone had survived, we needed a moment to ground
ourselves in the stupid little things before carrying on with more
life-and-death decisions.

We took Sonya to a guest room in the right wing, and Tristan
laid her down on the bed, then began cuffing her wrists and ankles. Only when
she was secured did he pull the dagger from her heart. Several beats pounded in
my chest as we waited, and I began to wonder if we’d made a big mistake. What
if she didn’t wake up? What if the silver had been too much for her? She was a
relatively young vamp, maybe too weak to survive such an assault. Except I knew
better—the only way to truly be rid of a vampire, regardless of how
young, was to burn the body.

As if my self-confirmation had been her cue, her eyes flew
open as she let out a gasp, and she immediately started thrashing against her
restraints. Tristan’s palm flew up and she stopped, paralyzed. Only her eyes
moved, wide and wild, like a trapped animal.

“I’m doing what I can,” he said quietly. “You know my lack
of experience with conversions, my love. This is all you now.”

He actually had more experience than I did, considering he’d
gone through it himself. But he didn’t have the Amadis power to execute a
conversion—his strengths lay elsewhere. Such as keeping Sonya still so
she didn’t hurt herself or me.

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