I’d actually been mistaken about the Amadis in general. Mom, Tristan, Owen . . . all of them emphasized over and over that the Amadis were good. Over the years, I’d created this high expectation of them—the society and the council, expecting the council to be almost like Angels. But they were nothing but typical, slimy politicians. They might fight for good against evil, but they weren’t above fighting each other out of greed—greed for money, power, or whatever it was that motivated them.
I woke Tristan with kisses, wanting to finally make love to him, to take me to another, blissful place away from my reality. After months of holding back, I was so ready. I didn’t care who heard me when my wall crashed—the hotel guests and employees were all Norman strangers who’d never know what hit them. The inevitable destruction of the room was a concern . . . but a minor one at this point. We’d just have to leave money to cover the damages.
He awoke immediately and responsively, his luscious lips kissing me back. The gold in his eyes sparkled with anticipation, the green shining beautifully as he looked into my eyes. Once again, I couldn’t believe how breathtaking he was and how lucky I was to be with him. His strong arms enveloped me and held me against his hard body, making me feel safe and loved . . . and desperate for him. But apparently the stress and exhaustion of the last several days was more than I’d realized—some time before I was even naked, I crashed.
At least in my dream we made love. We were in our beach house in the Florida Keys, destroying the Caribbean room once again, our bed in shambles, the rest of the furniture in pieces. I moaned with pleasure, so close to euphoria . . . and then that musical voice chimed in: “Sweet dreams, little bitch.”
I bolted upright in the hotel bed, my eyes darting around wildly and my heart pounding in my chest.
“Sorry to wake you from such a hot dream, but we need to go,” Tristan said.
“Vanessa,” I replied. The musical voice had been real and close by.
The door burst open with a bang, bounced off the wall, and slammed back in the white-blonde’s exquisite face. Her lightning-quick reflexes caught it just in time, the metal door molding to the shape of her arm. Tristan took my hand as she threw it open again, and after catching a glimpse of Vanessa and her brother Victor flying into the hotel room, we flashed.
They came close enough. We appeared on a deserted beach, and Vanessa and Victor appeared right after us, catching our flash trails. They were stupid to think they alone could defeat us—they couldn’t beat Tristan even without my help—but Vanessa’s pursuit was always based on emotions, not on the obvious facts. And it wasn’t Tristan she wanted to beat. She only fought him because he protected me. He shot fireballs at her, and I shot an electric bolt at Victor, singeing a hole through his shirt and into his chest, turning his white skin purple.
“Now!” Tristan said, and we flashed again, now somewhere inland and desert-like. The sickeningly sweet smell of burning vampire flesh still filled my nose.
“Son of a witch!”
Vanessa and Victor followed us once again, immediately lunging forward when they appeared. Vanessa’s hand grasped my right wrist like a steel vise. I shot a constant flow of electricity at her, the current traveling through her arm and back into me, then into Tristan, who still had a grip on my upper-right arm so I could follow his flash. Victor, the idiot, wrapped his arms around his sister, trying to pull her off me. The electric current charged violently through all of us.
Rather than electrocuting me, though, it boosted my power. Tristan could take it. Vanessa and Victor could not. Their bodies convulsed, and purple tendrils of smoke rose from their skin. They knew what would happen from the last time I nearly smoked the vampire bitch, and she finally released my wrist. Both of them fell to the ground, their bodies still writhing. Tristan and I used our powers together to send them flying back twenty yards, too far to follow our trails.
“Again,” Tristan said, and I followed him to a new place, more remote than the previous one.
We stood back-to-back, our knees bent in fighting stance, palms held out. My heart thrummed erratically as adrenaline and lingering electricity shot through my veins. Hundreds of beats thundered in my chest as we waited . . . and waited. When the two vampires didn’t appear, the air imprisoned in my lungs finally released with a whoosh. I leaned forward with my hands on my knees, panting, trying to slow everything down to a normal rhythm.
“That was . . . fun,” Tristan said, swinging around to face me. I looked up at him and lifted an eyebrow. A wide grin filled his face. He meant it. “You weren’t really scared of those two, were you? They’re not a real threat.”
“She wants to kill me. That’s a real threat in my book.”
“She missed her opportunity, ma lykita. You’re too strong for her now. I think you could have fried all of us and still be left standing.” He squatted in front of me and lifted my chin with his thumb to look into my eyes. His sandy-brown hair still crackled with a trace of electricity. “Just make sure I’m there when you fight her. I’ve been looking forward to watching that for a long time.”
I snorted. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to see me beat Vanessa or just watch two women fighting . . . especially because it was over him. Well, I was sure it was both, actually. He wanted me to beat her, but he wouldn’t mind a show of it.
My heartbeat and breathing returned to normal, I finally stood up straight and caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. I spun, instinctively holding my palm out. A kangaroo stood a hundred yards in the distance.
Oh! Without a thought, I sprinted after it.
“Alexis, NO!” Tristan shouted but I ignored him, wanting to see it up close.
The kangaroo sprang away from me, but I was too fast for it. I was nearly close enough to touch it when it spun on me, leaned back on its tail, and lifted its powerful legs. Its huge feet slammed into my face. I landed hard on my back, and the breath flew out of me. OW! I panicked. Power shot out of my hand, and the kangaroo soared ten yards away before landing on its tail and feet. I lay in the dirt, dumbstruck, as it bounced away.
“What the hell are you thinking?” Tristan asked, his voice full of amusement as he appeared in front of me.
“Was . . . it . . . a shifter?” I asked breathlessly as I struggled to sit up, mentally kicking myself for being so stupid and not checking first.
Tristan helped me to a sitting position. “No. Only a kangaroo.”
“Really? Are they always so rude?”
“They’re wild animals so yeah, especially when they feel threatened. Don’t do that again. You’ll ruin my favorite face in the world. Look what you’ve done to it.” He knelt down in front of me and gingerly touched my nose and cheekbones. I flinched. Of course, I couldn’t look at it, but I could feel it—my nose and cheeks hurt like hell. I groaned. The blood flowing from my nose had already stopped, and I could feel the broken bones mending themselves, but I would have serious bruises for a day or two.
Tristan lowered his mouth to my cheek and kissed across it, over my nose, and to my other cheek.
“There’s no open wound. You can’t heal it with your saliva,” I pointed out.
“Thought it might make you feel better, though.”
It did, actually, eliminate the pain. My skin tingled rather than throbbed.