All at once, my feelings flowed out as the mental images flooded in. Thankfully, Dorian still dreamt of sharks, but Mom stiffened in her reading chair then shook her head, thinking, “Alexis!” Solomon and Rina, in their own bed, exchanged knowing looks. Owen felt surprised and confused and . . . excited? The sheet over his lap began to rise. Oh, shit!
My mental wall flew up, feeling more solid than ever, in fact, solid as steel. I could almost hear a metallic clang as it slammed into place, like the thick, heavy door of a vault. Everyone’s thoughts disappeared. Mine were my own again. I panted, my body as rigid as the steel wall in my head, as I still clung to Tristan, who was pressed against the ceiling. I forced myself to relax and let go, fell to the bed, and lay there on my back.
“Oh, shit?” Tristan said as he joined me on the bed, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. “That’s a new one. I think I prefer ‘Don’t stop’ or ‘Right there’ or even ‘Love you, baby’ to ‘Oh, shit.’”
“Did I say it out loud?” I asked hopefully.
“Mmm . . . no.”
I groaned, automatically reaching for the necklace that no longer hung around my neck. Playing with the ruby pendant Tristan made for me had been a nervous habit for years, but now Vanessa the evil vampire bitch had it.
Tristan rolled onto his side, facing me. He took my hand from my neck and kissed my palm. “What’s wrong? I thought that was pretty great myself.”
“Of course it was.” I brushed his hair, still long and darker than usual, away from his face, to see the gold in his hazel eyes sparkling brightly with my affirmation. I dropped my hand with a sigh. “And that’s the problem.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a problem?”
I threw my arms across my face, trying to hide. “Everyone in the mansion heard me!”
He chuckled. “Their hearing isn’t that good, especially through stone walls.”
“That’s not what I mean. You heard me, right? In your head?”
“Ah,” he said with understanding. And then he laughed.
“Tristan, this is so not funny! I’m . . . mortified.”
He kept laughing, though. I dropped my arms from my face and stared at him. I wanted to punch him. He took in my glare and, a smart man, silenced his guffaws.
“Lexi, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. They all expect it. In fact, they want us to do it, remember? They want a daughter, too.”
“But you know how I can make you feel what I’m feeling through my thoughts? I just did that with them!”
“Then I’m sure they enjoyed it.” He flashed my favorite smile, then pulled me into his arms. “I bet Rina and Solomon are having their own fun now, Sophia won’t care, and Owen . . . well, at least he’ll have good dreams.”
I didn’t know about anyone else, but I didn’t sleep long enough to dream. Although exhausted, I tossed and turned throughout the night, my mind unable to turn off. The words of my history book churned in my head, particularly those pointing to the fact we would lose Dorian. Every male of the direct Amadis bloodline went to the Daemoni. Every. Single. One. Since the beginning, when Jordan, the first male twin purposefully sought them out and eventually became leader of their army.
Obsessed with the idea of gaining immortality and any other powers he could have, he and a witch created Jordan’s Juice. The powerful potion infused the best qualities of vampires, were-animals, and mages—the magical race encompassing witches and wizards, the more powerful warlocks, and the strongest of them all, sorcerers—into my ancestors’ DNA. For the girls, the Ang’dora brought into full effect the creatures’ endowments, as well as powers given by the Angels.
The boys, however, were different. And ever since, all of the boys followed Jordan’s path to the Daemoni. With Tristan born and raised by them and my own sperm donor one-hundred-percent evil, Dorian had a lot more Daemoni blood running through his veins than he did Amadis. Everything told me he was doomed—nothing in the book provided any kind of escape clause or even the mention of one—but I couldn’t believe it. I rolled over again. There has to be something we can do.
The next morning, I procrastinated in our suite as long as I could, not wanting to face everyone. If I had any chance of talking to Rina, my grandmother and the only other telepath to exist in many centuries, I would have been the first one downstairs, asking her to teach me better control. But with the council meeting, I knew she wouldn’t be able to help much today.
“Alexis, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Tristan said. “Can we please go eat breakfast? This meeting could last all day.”
I leaned against the doorway to a small balcony wrapped with wrought iron, a white sheer curtain puffing around me in the spring breeze. The hem of my dated sundress—one of the few items of clothing I owned—fluttered against my thighs. Our suite was on the third floor of the mansion and the mansion on a hill, so I could just barely see the blue-and-white-capped Aegean Sea beyond the ancient cypress treetops.
“Go on and eat. You don’t have to wait for me,” I said without moving.
He placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him. The wide ring of emerald green in his eyes shone brightly, the gold sparkles surrounding the pupils glinting. His skin almost seemed to glow, as it had on our honeymoon, the morning after our first time. He was happy. This place was good for him. He’d been to hell and back, and he needed the Amadis power—you could almost feel the energy pulsing from the island itself—to strengthen his goodness.
“I see what you’re doing,” he said with the devastating smile that made my heart flip. “You have to face them some time. Do you really want to do it by yourself, or would you like me next to you?”
“Of course I’d like you next to me. Always. But . . .” I hesitated.
“But what?”
I dropped my head, staring at the floor. “But you think this is funny. I can already hear the jokes.”
“Hmm . . . yeah, I’m not the least bit ashamed of what I can do to you.” He lifted my chin with his fingers, brushing his thumb across my lower lip. Then his hand trailed down my neck, between my breasts, along my stomach . . . and lower. I shuddered. He smiled proudly. “So I guess I’ll go down by myself, and we can all have our laughs without you.”
He kissed me and winked, then turned and walked out the door. I stared after him in a daze, and when the fog cleared, I hurried after him.
“Don’t forget I can do the same to you,” I said when I caught up to him.
He chuckled. “Trust me, I’ll never forget. And I’m not ashamed of it, either. But I do promise to behave.”
He took my hand, his touch automatically calming me, but right before we entered the dining room, I stepped behind him.
“Dad!” Dorian bounded from his chair at the table and leapt into Tristan’s arms. “I’ve been waiting forever for you to wake up!”
He threw his arms around Tristan’s neck in a tight hug.
“Guess I don’t count for anything anymore,” I said with mocked pain.
He peeked over Tristan’s shoulder with the same hazel eyes as his father’s. “Hey, Mom. I missed you, too.”