Power (Soul Savers) (29 page)

“All right,” I croaked around the lump in my throat. I
couldn’t believe what I was about to say, but I couldn’t let him hurt himself
or anyone else. “If we put him in the shackles in one of the rooms, can you
shield it or something so he can’t flash out of them?”

“Sure, but will they hold him?”

“He installed and tested them himself, so let’s hope so.”

The fire in Tristan’s eyes had died by the time we had his
wrists and ankles locked in shackles in the room next to Vanessa’s, but mine
burned even more with tears.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, taking a step toward him.

He shook his head. His voice came out low and hoarse. “Don’t
be. It’s necessary.”

I reached out to touch his shoulder but he jerked away as
far as he could, the metal chains jangling noisily against the concrete wall.

“What are they doing to you?” I asked.

He closed his eyes, and his expression became one of shame.
“I don’t know. They’re in my head … or my heart. I think I’m feeling what
they’re feeling.”

“What are they feeling?”

A growl rose from his chest. “Hate. Anger. A desire to kill.
Toward you. Toward me. Anyone and everyone, actually.” Another growl. “I can
barely control it.”

His body violently thrashed again. His back arced away from
the wall while his head threw back, cracking against the concrete. His hands
burned a bright reddish-orange, and I knew he must have been controlling the
urge to shoot more fire.

I turned on Owen. “How did this happen? How did they get to
him? You were supposed to have him shielded and cloaked, Owen!”

“I did, Alexis. I …” He shook his head. “I don’t know.
Nobody was around. I have no idea how they knew we were even there.”

“Did you at least find the pendant?”

The defeated look on his face told me. “We tore the place
apart, but it was nowhere—”

“Alexis!” Sheree came running into the room. She stopped
short at the sight of Tristan. Blinked. Swallowed. Slowly turned to me, as if
trying to remember the urgent matter she’d apparently needed to share. “Um …
someone’s here. Someone’s at the door! Not Amadis, but not Norman, either.”

Daemoni! They’ve come
for Vanessa. Or Tristan!
Those thoughts immediately shot through my mind,
but I couldn’t sense Daemoni. Nothing more than the trace that still came from
Sonya’s room. I felt out beyond the mansion for the mind signature. Strangely
familiar, but in that unidentifiable way … no thoughts to latch onto.

“Must be a faerie,” I muttered. I looked at Owen and he
nodded.

“I’ll stand guard here,” he said. “Holler if you need me.”

I ran for the front door, Sheree on my heels, and peeked out
a side window. An old woman stood on the front steps, wrapped in raggedy
cloaks. I could barely see through the illusion—a few golden strands in
her hair, gold flecks in her flat eyes.

I yanked the door open, grabbed the old woman’s arm and
pulled her inside. Then I threw my arms around her. “Bree! Thank God you’re
here!”

“You mean thank the Angels,” she said, hugging me back.
“They sent me.”

She stepped back from my embrace and transformed into her
real self.

“The Angels sent you?” I repeated, confused. I thought the
Angels only communicated with the Amadis matriarch. On the other hand, as a
faerie, Bree was more of the Otherworld than she was of ours, and although
she’d been an outcast since agreeing to become Tristan’s mother, she had closer
ties to the spirits of the Otherworld, including the Angels, than the rest of
us. Well, besides the connection between Cassandra and me, which remained
inexplicable.

“Well, in a roundabout way,” Bree said as she shook out her
golden hair. “They didn’t directly tell me, but I think I know what they did to
the stone. Where’s Tristan? Can we talk?”

I grimaced. Did I want her to see Tristan, her son, chained
up and behaving like a madman? But if she could help …

“Um,” I started unsuccessfully. “Well … if you know what
they did, maybe it will help us figure out what to do. Tristan is … well, a bit
of a mess right now.”

Bree nodded, showing no surprise. “In the heart?”

My eyes widened. “Yeah, sort of. I guess that’s what it is.
Why?”

“Has he been near the Daemoni lately?”

“Yes. And when he came back—”

“Take me to him. You both need to know.”

I led Bree, with Sheree following us, to the room where
Tristan remained chained to the wall, Owen keeping an eye on him. Bree didn’t
gasp at the scene as I’d thought she would—as I still did even knowing
what to expect—but shook her head.

She walked over to Tristan and placed her hand on his arm.
He growled, but at least he didn’t thrash about as if trying to attack her.

“Do you know what’s going on?” he asked, his voice rough,
barely human sounding.

“I believe so,” Bree said. “The faerie stone—when the
Angels took it, I believe they enhanced it—”

“We already know that!” Tristan snarled, clanging his chains
with impatience. “We need to know
what
they did before the Daemoni figure it out!”

Bree cocked her head. “You don’t think they know yet?”

“If they did, you’d probably all be dead by now,” Tristan
answered. “They’re angry and frustrated. I can feel that as if they’re my own
feelings, and it’s
maddening
. So no,
they don’t know.”

“Good,” Bree said. “I think I
do
know, especially after seeing this. I believe the Angels wanted
to be sure you know when you’re loved. That you feel your soul mate’s love when
she is in possession of the stone so you wouldn’t doubt it. So whoever has the
stone … that’s whose feelings you are experiencing.”

The room fell deathly silent as this news settled in.

“So Tristan is feeling the Daemoni’s feelings right now?”
Sheree asked.

Bree nodded. “Whoever has the stone … that’s what he’s
feeling. At least, anything towards himself or those he’s around.”

More silence as we continued to think about it. Tristan
spoke up first.

“It makes sense.” His eyes turned on me, no longer full of
murder, but not exactly full of love, either. “What do you think kept me going
while they had me all that time? We talked about a connection between us. And
if you think about it, this unexplained anger goes back to when you first lost
the stone—when Vanessa grabbed it.”

I understood. We’d fought a lot ever since then, and at one
point, he’d even stopped believing that I loved him at all. “You felt what she
did.”

He nodded, and then his chains clanged again as his body
writhed in frustration, and he let out a string of profanities.

“Why is it so bad now, though?” I asked. “I mean, last time
we went to South Beach …”

I trailed off when everyone but Tristan stared at me without
comprehension. Right. They weren’t aware of the full story of our trip. Well,
maybe Tristan had told Owen, but Bree and Sheree didn’t know. Rather than
telling the whole story for them, I opened my mind and shared the memory.

“Was that Vanessa in control then?” Sheree asked afterward.

“The question is who has it now,” Owen said, deflecting
Sheree’s accusation.

 
“Your trip must
have created the link with a mage. Someone with powerful magic,” Bree said, and
Tristan nodded in agreement.

My breath caught. “Kali?”

“No,” Tristan grunted. “Not that strong.”

That was a bit of a relief.

“But as long as this mage has it,” I said, “Tristan will
always feel what she’s feeling, rather than the truth around him or within
him.”

“It will likely become stronger, too, the longer one person
possesses the stone. The connection will strengthen,” Bree added.

“Well, that’s just fabulous. Until we find the stone, my
husband will hate me.”

“You’re forgetting the worst part,” Tristan snarled. We all
turned our eyes on him. “If they figure this out, they’ll use it to their
advantage. I’ll become their personal killing machine right in the heart of the
Amadis. Exactly what they’ve always wanted.” He locked his gaze on mine and a
jolt ran up my spine with the intense look in his hazel eyes. “And guess where
they’ll want me to start?”

I gulped.
With me, of
course
. He gave me a nod of confirmation. Instead of fear, though, anger
welled inside me.
Would he ever be free
of their control?
I inhaled a slow breath, then let it out even slower.

“Okay, then,” I said, lifting my chin and squaring my
shoulders, “we find the stone, and we get it back. Fortunately, we have a new
friend who probably knows who has it now and ought to be quite helpful.”

I strode out of Tristan’s room, turned right and crossed the
five yards to Vanessa’s door. Owen suddenly stood in front of it. I raised my
eyebrows at him.

“I doubt she’ll cooperate,” he muttered.

My eyebrows shot even higher. “Before I agreed to convert
her, you said—”

“I said she had something you wanted. A weapon. Another
soldier for your army.”

I didn’t miss how he said “
your
army,” not “
our
army.” I told myself it only meant that he acknowledged my leadership position.
I hoped that was all he meant.

“And as part of
my
army, she will do her duty and tell us what she knows.”

“Listen. She’s pretty sensitive about the pendant. She felt
some kind of, well, connection to you and Tristan through it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course, she did. Isn’t that what Bree
just said?”

But then the deeper meaning of what he said came to me. A
connection not only to Tristan, but to me, too.

“She’d felt the love, Alexis. Projected it to herself, I
guess.”

I tilted my head as I studied his face. “That’s what made
her decide, isn’t it? How she knew for sure that she wanted to convert?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. But that’s what she told me when
she came to me.”

“Came to you where?”

He pressed his lips together and looked away. Closed his
eyes for a long moment, then opened them again, but still stared at the wall
behind me. “It’s a long story I don’t feel like reliving. But yeah, she knew
where to find me.”

A current of pain flowed under his words, and I had the
feeling Vanessa had rescued him from something before he rescued her. And
whatever she’d brought him out of, it hadn’t been pleasant.

“Owen …?” I placed my hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

I tried to move into his line of sight to catch his eyes,
but his gaze dropped from the wall behind me to the floor, which he scowled at.
Eventually he looked at me with a smile. As fake as can be. “Just peachy. No
need to worry—”

“You’re lying,” I blurted. “I see it on your face. You’ve
always been there for me, Owen. It can go both ways, you know.”

His left eye twitched as he brightened his smile. “I’m
fine
, Alexis. The best thing you can do
for me is take care of her.”

“Owen—”

His voice came out in a near growl. “Drop it, Alexis. Worry
about Vanessa, about Tristan, but not about me.”

“Then at least tell me, you and Vanessa …?” Did he feel the
same way about her as she did him? He shrugged noncommittally. I tapped my
finger against my temple. Understanding my message, he leaned closer to me, and
his voice came out very softly.

“You really don’t want to see what’s in here. Trust me.”

We stared at each other for a long moment, and I felt as
though he tried to tell me something I wasn’t grasping. The temptation to
actually read his mind nearly overwhelmed me, but I wouldn’t do that to him.
Not about this. It was his business, and if he wanted to tell me, he would. He
must have seen this in my eyes, because he straightened.

“So,” he said, as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened.
“Vanessa. The pendant. I’m just sayin’ that she might get a little …
anxious
… over the whole thing.”

“Too late to worry about me, warlock,” Vanessa’s voice
called from inside her room. As Owen opened the door and we both stepped
inside, I wondered how much of our conversation she’d heard. Probably all of
it. The vampire gave us an annoyed look from the chair she sat in next to the
bed. “How can you so easily forget about vampire hearing? But thanks for
looking out for my oh-so-precious feelings.”

Owen glanced sideways at me, and I knew immediately he
remembered her keen hearing. He
wanted
her to hear us. Well, not my probing questions, which is probably why he’d
avoided answering them, but the part about showing that he still protected her.
I shook my head at him before turning to the vampire.

“So the pendant?” I demanded, cutting to the chase. Her
attitude—and Owen’s behavior—had already raised my hackles. “Do you
know where it is?”

“Nope,” she said without a tinge of the anxiety Owen was so
worried about. But she didn’t expound, so I peeked into her mind, catching a
glimpse of a memory of someone ripping the necklace away from her. I gasped,
and she narrowed her eyes at me, realizing I’d entered her head. “They took it
from you?
When?
”

She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “Before you came to
South Beach last time. I … I was going to warn you then, but the local nest
surrounded us, and I had to get out of there.”

“And you couldn’t have mentioned this all the time since
you’ve been here?”

She shrugged. “What was the point? When I told you I didn’t
know where it was, I was telling you the truth. That’s all you needed to know,
for your own good.”

“For my own
good
?
Are you freakin’
kidding
me? Owen and
Tristan risked their lives to go get it! Now all of our lives are at risk. You
knew it wasn’t at your place, and after everything we’ve done for you, you let
them go anyway.”

“Nobody asked me now did they?”

My muscles bunched to fly at her and choke the living crap
out of the bitch, but Owen grabbed me around the waist.