Just breathe.
Something I shouldn’t have to remind myself to do, but at the moment, the task was easier said than done. Pushing the air out of my tight lungs proved simple enough, but in through the nose was a different story, as each inhale brought with it an eye-watering fetor of body odor, liquor, cigarette smoke, and vomit pooled somewhere in the dark corners. I could handle the stench, as well as the flashing lights, the pulsating music, and a sea of Norman bodies dry-humping to the beat, but making it all exponentially worse were the drunken mind signatures, swirling and gyrating and pinging all over the place.
A nightclub in the middle of a seaside tourist village was probably the last place a new telepath should be hanging out. Yet here I was.
I hadn’t been off the Amadis Island for eight months, since the trial last September, and didn’t particularly want to be here either. I preferred to be in one of my usual spots, next to either Rina or Lilith, both still comatose from the dark magic inflicted by Kali the sorceress. But my Amadis power seemed to be doing neither of them much good, and Vanessa had recently been seen in this small town, which meant something was going on.
The Daemoni simply didn’t hang out here—not anywhere on this little key in the Aegean Sea that was the Amadis Island’s closest neighbor. Too many Amadis passed through here on their way to and from our Island, and many came for a day or weekend of mainstreaming without wandering too far away from the safety of our haven. So Vanessa being here was perplexing—as well as bold and stupid on her part. Except the vampire wasn’t stupid, which meant she wouldn’t be here alone for long. The Daemoni seemed to be planning an ambush, and our current strategy was for me to hear her thoughts and learn their plan. She’d also stolen something precious from me, and I needed it back.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to find her mind signature tonight, so here I was, hoping to pick up a thought of someone who’d seen her today or knew where she stayed. The sensory overload made my head pound and set my teeth on edge. The packs of women not so discreetly waiting their turns to hit on my husband certainly didn’t help my mood.
Tristan’s long and hard body leaned against the bar on the other side of the room from me, blue and green lights from the dance floor flashing over his perfect features. An American girl in a sundress and stilettos twirled her red hair around her fingers as she and a similarly dressed brunette talked to him. More small groups of women stood nearby at the bar and tables, stealing glances his way to see if he’d dismissed these two yet. After all, he’d been dismissing foolish women practically falling at his feet all night, but for some reason, each newcomer thought she’d be the exception.
His eyes slid over to me, and he smirked. I fought the ridiculously immature but overwhelming urge to stick my tongue out. Instead, I turned away from him and gave my full attention to the intoxicated Greek god offering to buy me a drink. Well, I tried my best to give it to him, but I could barely provide more than a forced smile while my mind scanned the thoughts of the women talking to Tristan. If they knew anything about the vampire-bitch, they weren’t thinking about her. In fact, their minds were pretty focused on how they’d be willing to give Tristan a threesome if that’s what it took to get him into bed. No wonder he was smirking.
Just breathe, I reminded myself again. It was your idea to separate. This is your own doing. Right. I needed to focus. Even if I didn’t find Vanessa, scanning mind signatures and thoughts in this kind of environment provided good practice, which I needed.
I’d acquired the telepathy during my Ang’dora a year ago and fought it and its intricacies for a while. Well, I still had some issues, but I experienced a big breakthrough last September when I protected Tristan from being banished for betrayal and saved the Amadis by exposing the real traitor. I’d been trying ever since to embrace the gift, but the only people I could practice on were the people in the Amadis village, and they were nothing compared to this. Especially since the Amadis knew I could hear their thoughts, so they kept them subdued. Here, thoughts exploded from inebriated minds like fireworks, some bright and cheery and others simply loud and obnoxious.
I could hardly fathom how all these people could be here partying it up with everything else going on in the world. Of course, they didn’t know what I did—the increased homicide rates, animal attacks, and missing persons reports weren’t solely a result of depressive economies and political unrest as the media told them, but rather, the workings of the Daemoni. Normans only joked about the world going to Hell, not realizing how right they were. They hadn’t attended funeral after funeral as I had in the last few months.
Or, perhaps, they had. Perhaps they sought to forget it all in the alcohol, drugs, dancing, and sex. Perhaps if I delved deeper into their thoughts, beneath the blanket of intoxication, I’d find they were on vacation here to escape their own terrible realities. Escapism was a part of human nature, after all, and the people here had apparently found what they needed.
I didn’t delve, though. Invading people’s private thoughts was one of the issues I still had with this ability. Luckily, those thoughts didn’t automatically blast in my mind, or I’d never be able to live with myself. As an introvert, I needed my head to be my own and couldn’t imagine a constant party going on inside it. That would have been so much worse than the situation I was in now, which was bad enough.
Skimming along the surfaces of tourists’ minds to listen for the smallest hint of Vanessa’s whereabouts, I concluded no one else was suffering a near anxiety attack like I was. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying the loud music, the strobe lights, and the press of the crowd around them.
I accepted the drink from the beautiful man with the dark but glassed-over eyes, and threw it back, grimacing at the ouzo’s burn as it slid down my throat, wishing this would be the shot that would dull the senses. But, of course, it wouldn’t. I couldn’t get drunk. Unlike the Normans, I couldn’t find my own escape.
“You okay?” Tristan silently asked me.
I clenched my jaw, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to give in, either. Don’t worry about me.
“As if I could stop. I always worry about you.”
I stared directly at him and all the girls surrounding him, particularly the one he smiled at even as he thought his concern toward me.
Well, don’t, I thought to him as I drew in a steadying breath. I can take care of myself.
“Are you sure?” he asked precisely when the guy in front of me asked me to dance. I nodded, although I truly just wanted to get out of here. “Alexis, don’t think—”
I never heard the rest of his sentence—what he didn’t want me to think. The handsome stranger thought I’d nodded to him and had me by the hand, stumbling over his own feet as he dragged me to the dance area. As soon as we stepped onto the sunken floor, his hands were on my hips, pulling me close to him. For a brief moment, I forgot about all the mind signatures, the twirling lights, and the pounding music, and could only think about how strange it was to be that close to a man other than Tristan.
But only for a brief moment. Before I could even do anything, a growl ripped through the music—or maybe just through my head—and Tristan suddenly stood between the guy and me, his back to me and his arms out protectively. The drunk guy swung without even looking, and Tristan caught his wrist in mid-air. With the pain of the grip, the guy finally looked up into Tristan’s face. His eyes grew wide, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. Without so much as an apology to me, he carefully stepped away from the dance floor.
Tristan turned to me and wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me to him as he swayed to the music. I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.
“You can talk to girls all night, but I can’t dance once?”
His nostrils flared. “There’s a difference. His hands were all over you.”
“I had things under control.”
He leaned closer to me and growled in my ear. “I didn’t like it.”
I stepped back. I should have been warmed by his concern, but his eyes were alit with real anger and his tone acidic.
“I told you. I can take care of myself.” I added silently, He’s only a Norman, after all.
Tristan cocked his head and considered me for a long moment, then jerked his hands off my hips.
“Of course you can,” he snapped before walking off.
I stared after him, clenching my jaw to keep it from falling open. Warrior Boy seemed to have lost his cool. Which wasn’t, well, cool, considering the circumstances.
Tristan!
I stomped off the dance floor and toward the front door of the club, expecting him to follow me, but he sauntered back to his place at the bar amidst all the girls who now looked at me like wild cats about to pounce. I almost gave in to the urge to lift my lip and snarl at them as Tristan had done to my Greek god, but I didn’t. Only because something else caught my attention as I reached the door. The mind signature I’d been searching for all night.
Tristan, come on. Game’s over. Found her. I looked over my shoulder to see him still leaning against the bar. Are you coming?
He shrugged without looking away from the blonde who’d moved in on him. “You can take care of yourself.”
I turned to glare at him, but he still ignored me. What was wrong with him? It had been my idea to go in separately, to appear as though we were single so the Normans would be more likely to talk to us, but Tristan was taking it too far. I wanted to clock him, knock some sense into him. Vanessa’s mind signature was on the move, though, and I didn’t want to lose her. So I rushed outside, knowing Tristan would come to his senses and follow, while mentally reaching out for the other nearby Amadis. They were all on the other side of the island, keeping their distance, as was part of the plan.
Vanessa must not have sensed me yet, because she didn’t move toward the club, as expected. Too many people stood outside to see me flash, so I jogged down the street toward her mind signature as it continued to slowly move away from me, as if she were taking an evening stroll at two in the morning. Probably looking for her midnight snack.
I tried following her signature to her thoughts, but although she remained in my range, my mind struggled to grasp them. My head physically hurt from the effort, probably because of the bombardment it had already suffered in the nightclub, but I pushed harder, desperate to discover her plan.
But I didn’t latch on fast enough. Several new mind signatures popped into existence about a half-mile away. All of them Daemoni.
Vanessa’s mind prickled, but she didn’t move. She remained frozen in place. I didn’t wait to find out what she was thinking. If the Daemoni attacked the nightclub—the only place on the island with so many Normans in one spot at this time of night—they’d have to go through Tristan and me first.
Tristan, they’re here! I yelled at him as I ran toward the club.
I stopped at the door, waiting for him to come out, and wondering if I should somehow get the outside loiterers indoors to safety. My heart pounded, but rather than feeling scared as I always had in the past, I actually felt excitement as the adrenaline pumped through my veins. I hadn’t been in a fight in ages—in fact, I wore my leathers and carried my dagger for the first time tonight since last September. I palmed the hilt of my cloaked dagger, and a burst of power surged through me, as if the weapon knew it was finally released from its spot in the boring closet and returned to where it belonged: in my hand. For the first time ever, I felt like the warrior I was supposed to be, every bit as powerful as Tristan.
But that didn’t mean I didn’t want him with me. So why did I sense him still inside, as if nothing was going on out here?
Tristan! Get your ass out here.
I felt out for the Daemoni as I waited. They hadn’t moved yet from where they’d flashed onto the island, close to the shore on the far side of the nightclub. And a new signature popped right into the middle of them. A familiar one, although we hadn’t heard from its owner since he disappeared after the trial. The sounds of a fight broke out immediately. Vanessa’s mind signature finally moved at an inhuman speed.
Owen’s here! He’s fighting them by himself. Let’s go!
Confident that would get Tristan’s attention, I bounced on the balls of my feet with impatience, but he didn’t come flying through the door. Where was he? Was he really that distracted? I couldn’t stand here doing nothing anymore. I ran toward the fight, Vanessa close behind me. Ah, crap. She was herding me right toward the cluster of Daemoni.
I stopped, ready to take her on by herself. But she blurred right past me. Surely she had to have smelled me, but she didn’t even hesitate. She headed straight for the others.
I stood in the middle of the dark street, flabbergasted for a moment. But I knew what I had to do—I couldn’t let Owen fight unassisted. My heart raced harder, and my hand shook a little as my thumb slid over the stone in the dagger’s hilt to expose the weapon. It would be stupid to do this alone, but if Tristan didn’t get his act together, I’d lose the opportunity to recover my pendant and my protector.
“You are not alone.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of the soft woman’s voice in my head, vaguely familiar but not mine. However, it wasn’t attached to any mind signature around. And although the internal voice didn’t belong to me, I somehow knew it came from inside me.
“You have what you need within you, Alexis. I am here.”
The voice did anything but comfort me. Memories of Psycho and Evil Alexis came to mind instead, and I wondered if I was losing my sanity. I’d slowly but surely become used to voices in my head since the Ang’dora, but this was different. I hadn’t sought it out. I released my hold on the dagger’s hilt and massaged my temples.
Get a grip. You’re just panicking.
I drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. The voice didn’t return. Hopefully, it had been some strange fluke, my subconscious finding a different way to try to calm me. My mind remained quiet, even as I reached out again to track the nearby mind signatures.
The fight between Owen and the Daemoni had escalated, and Vanessa was about to land in the middle of it all. A yelp of pain in the voice of my protector shot through the quiet night, and my body immediately responded.
Tristan, I’m going in without you. I called out as my legs carried me down the street. I reached out to the other Amadis soldiers, as well, ordering them to join us. Tristan finally appeared by my side. Owen, we’re coming!
“Leave me alone, Alexis,” Owen barked in my mind just as we rounded the corner to the fight. Just as the Amadis appeared, too. And just as the Daemoni flashed out of sight, Owen on their trails, and Vanessa on his. But we were physically too far away to catch hers.
“Owen,” I shouted as I reached out for their mind signatures. They were gone. Not on the island at all. They could be anywhere in a 100-mile radius. I spun on Tristan and pounded him with my fists. “Where were you?” I yelled at him. “What is wrong with you? If you’d been here—”
He grabbed my wrists and pulled me to him, and the rest of the Amadis slipped away into the shadows, not wanting to be a part of this. “I know, ma lykita. I’m sorry.”
I jerked backwards out of his grasp. “You’re sorry? Don’t you think you took that ‘let’s pretend we’re not together’ thing a little too far? And now Owen and Vanessa and my pendant are gone. Again! It’ll probably be another eight months before we get another chance, Tristan. Eight. Months!” I threw my hands in the air with my violent frustration. “Actually, we’ll be lucky to ever see Owen again considering what he just flung himself into. What the hell, Tristan?”
He looked at me with guilt-filled hazel eyes, the gold flecks dim. He scrubbed his hands over his face and exhaled slowly.
“I don’t know.” He rolled his neck and his shoulders, then stared at something off to the side, avoiding eye contact with me. His jaw muscle twitched. “An off night for me, I guess.”
“An off night?” I echoed, my words dripping with venom. “You don’t have off nights. You are the warrior who’s supposed to be ready for anything and everything. Remember that? Besides, you sure didn’t look off to me. In fact, you looked to be pretty on with all those women.”
His gaze returned to me. “I admit I lost focus, but not because of them. Because of you. I didn’t like the damn act, especially when that guy put his hands on you. Then I was pissed and . . . I don’t know. Not right.”
“We’re supposed to be a team, Tristan. I need you.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded. Whatever had happened in that nightclub, he knew he’d been wrong. But he obviously had nothing else to say, so I broke my eyes from his, and my gaze traveled around the street where we stood. Stucco houses glowed white in the moonlight, and many flights of stairs twisted and wound around the homes, leading to those at the top of the hill. Not a single person sat outside on the various verandas and rooftops; no one climbed the steps. I opened my mind but Daemoni and Amadis alike were gone.
“Let’s just go,” I said with a groan.
I didn’t know what to think about Tristan’s behavior. We were on a mission. How could Tristan—Tristan, the experienced warrior—become so distracted? We’d fought side-by-side before. He couldn’t blame me, especially when he pretty much ignored me when I needed him most. But what else could have been going on?