“Please, please, please keep Dorian safe, Owen,” I begged. “Your parents, Jelani, and Chandra are all on his side, even think he could lead someday. Use them if you have to. I’m counting on you.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll do anything to keep you from going back to the way you were. Besides, I’d never survive the wrath of both you and Tristan.”
“Use your magic if necessary,” I said. “I don’t care who’s around. Protect him, Owen. That’s an order!”
He saluted me. “Ready? About ten seconds.”
Tristan took my hand, and we both stood in the center of the boat as it flew through the shield. We waited just long enough to be sure some of the Daemoni saw him and me, then Tristan said, “Now!”
A blue streak of some kind of magic sailed past my ear right when I flashed.
Chapter 11
A string of profanities flew out of my mouth when we appeared at the Athens airport, right in front of a mirror in a bathroom.
“How could you let me leave in this?” I hissed at Tristan as he checked the stalls to make sure we were alone.
He’d brought us to this particular bathroom because it was only used by employees, so it was often empty. And now I had to sneak out of it dressed as a gladiator-slut from the 1300s—I still wore the traditional Amadis dress. We could only flash with what could fit in Tristan’s pockets—passports, a cell phone, and money—so I couldn’t change.
“Thought you were keeping it on for a reason,” Tristan said with a shrug. “You could get your way with any warm-blooded male wearing that. Although . . . you could probably do the same wearing sweats and a T.”
I rolled my eyes. “This is so not cool. I need normal clothes. At least you look normal!”
He was also still dressed for the ceremony-that-never-happened. Though I wished our escape from that mortifying event wasn’t because of these more terrifying circumstances, the timing couldn’t have been more in my favor. Of course, here I was in this scanty dress about to be seen by a lot more people than would fit on the Amadis Island. And they’d be staring more because they wouldn’t be bowing their heads. Who wears a gladiator costume on an airplane?
Tristan sighed. “Stay here. I’ll go find something. Lock the door behind me and be ready for anything.”
I nodded and held my hands up, palms out, ready to fire electric bolts and move objects. “Thank you.”
Tristan wasn’t gone five seconds when musical laughter rang somewhere nearby. I froze. Vanessa. I bent my knees, kept my hands in position, and waited for her appearance, my heart pounding against my chest. If she was alone, I could beat her, but I might have to kill her, and Amadis weren’t supposed to kill if there was hope for the soul . . . unless it was our lives or theirs. And between Vanessa and me, it would always be to the death. Even if she knew she couldn’t beat me, she’d die trying. Only Tristan could scare her away, and I didn’t know how long he’d be.
I wondered how she found us. It’d been three months since she’d ingested my blood, so she had to have burned through it already, severing our connection. I dissolved my wall and felt for her mind signature. Two signatures came at me—two females, both Norman. I relaxed and blew out a breath of relief, and then the door rattled in its jam, making me jump. The two women simply needed to use the bathroom. Crap. I couldn’t open it for them, as much as I wanted to.
“We have to get out of here.”
I jumped again at the sound in my ear, though I knew the lovely voice better than anyone’s. Tristan stood next to me, empty-handed. The two women gave up and left—or heard the male voice and went for security.
“Too many Daemoni here,” Tristan said. “They prepared for us to try to fly out of here.”
“But surely they wouldn’t attack in the middle of a busy international airport?”
“They don’t usually attack Norman towns or our villages, either. Come on, I’ll lead.” He held his hand out, and I took it, needing the touch to follow his flash.
We flashed our way to the Skopje Airport in Macedonia, roughly one hundred miles at a time, pressing the distance limits of our flashing abilities. This time, before letting Tristan leave the hidden area he had brought us to, I probed outwards, carefully but quickly roaming through the mind signatures, searching for danger. When I gave him the all-clear, Tristan disappeared again, still on the hunt for clothes. He returned with a white, wool sweater. I raised my eyebrows. There was nothing wrong with the sweater—I just hoped to change into jeans, too.
“It’s all I could find. It’s a tiny airport, and they don’t have boutiques, only a couple of duty-free and souvenir shops. Unless, you want me to raid someone’s luggage?”
I sighed. “No, we’re not stealing someone else’s clothes.”
Since I wasn’t wearing a bra under the leather bodice, I kept it on and pulled the sweater over my head. At least the white didn’t clash with the lavender skirt. And at least I didn’t feel as though I wore smexy lingerie in public.
Three flights, two days, and nearly five thousand dollars later, we arrived in Sydney, Australia, all as a show for whoever might have been following us . . . friend or foe. Because I’d said we were going to Australia instead of the States, Tristan thought we should actually go and see who, if anyone, pursued us before we rejoined with our son and headed for our real destination.
So far, we’d only detected Daemoni, nothing more—and they didn’t take the chance of attacking with all the norms around. I didn’t have the same problem of listening to their thoughts as I did with norms or Amadis. At least, not ethical issues of invading their privacy. On the other hand, their thoughts disgusted and terrified me. By listening, though, I learned a lot, such as Lucas, my sperm donor, had ordered them to take us alive, with as little Norman attention as possible. But of course, Daemoni didn’t always follow orders.
Julia, the traitor, and any other Amadis against us didn’t send anyone in pursuit. Apparently, they really did just want us off the island. I was sure, though, it was more than because they were concerned for everyone’s safety. They had a plan.
We spent the night in a busy hotel in Sydney and checked in with Owen. I’d been worrying about him like crazy, feeling guilty for abandoning him on the boat in the middle of Daemoni fire. He’d held his own, though, and left Amadis Island with Dorian the day after we did. He couldn’t tell us where they were, in case of eavesdroppers, but Tristan’s plan remained on track. We’d rendezvous in Kuckaroo, an Amadis village in the Outback, in a couple of days. We were able to talk to Dorian briefly, and he asked several times when he would see us again. Of course he was scared of losing us. He’d lived nearly seven years without his father and now was ripped apart from him again. I lied through my teeth and told him everything would be okay, and we would see him soon.
I sorely missed my mom, too, but we couldn’t take the risk of contacting her. I wasn’t sure if we could trust her right now. I didn’t think she was in on Rina’s secret, but she’d made it clear she believed Rina over me.
The sting from Rina’s betrayal bit again as I stared out the hotel window at the lights of Sydney’s nightscape, my turn to be on watch while Tristan slept. Tonight was the first time we’d really slowed down since leaving Amadis Island, and the constant action had kept my mind off of what had happened, focused instead on what lay ahead. Downtime meant thinking time, and tears burned my eyes as I wondered how Rina could do this to me. I’d always had so much respect for her and, though slightly frightened of her at first, came to love her dearly. She always believed in me, even when I was young and (nearly) a Norman. She was this powerful matriarch who admired me, loved me . . . and betrayed me. She even lied about the other person who’d been in the room with her and Julia. I thought she protected love, but my mistake was now painfully obvious. Julia and Mom were wrong. Rina protected the Amadis first, family and love second.