"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."
"Sure you did," I said, ruffling his blond hair. I didn't blame him for his enthusiasm for Tristan–yesterday was the first time they'd ever met. They had a lot of catching up to do.
Rina, Mom and Owen sat at the table, coffee mugs and breakfast plates in front of them, their conversation we'd heard from the hallway suddenly silent. I barely glanced their way, just in time to see Owen turning his head and dropping his sapphire eyes, his face as pink as the half-eaten grapefruit on his plate. The image of the rising sheet popped into my mind, and my face heated, probably turning darker than Owen's. I studied the tablecloth, wondering if anyone would notice if I crawled underneath it and stayed there the rest of my life. Or at least until Owen left.
How can I ever face him again?
As soon as Tristan and I sat down, a woman who looked as old as the ancient mansion came through a door with a tray of coffee, mugs and condiments. She placed everything in front of us, and I reached for the coffee pot, but she grabbed it first, pouring our coffee for us. I wasn't used to this.
"Alexis, this is Ophelia," Rina said with her Italian accent. She was over a century-and-a-half old, but Rina appeared to be in her late twenties, not much older than Mom looked. Her wide, mahogany eyes, nearly identical to mine and Mom's, warmed with appreciation as she regarded the elderly woman. "She has served the Amadis for over two-hundred years, since the days of my great-grandmother's rule. Ophelia, I'd like you to meet our Alexis."
Ophelia dipped into a curtsy. I definitely wasn't used to that.
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Alexis," she said, her voice soft and smoother than I expected, compared to her severely creased face. She turned to Tristan. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Tristan. It has been a long time."
Ophelia returned her attention to me, her gray eyes surprisingly clear behind the many folds of her eyelids. Doing the math, I realized she was nearly the same age as Tristan.
Ew. That thought's … discomforting
. I banished it immediately.
"What would you like for breakfast, dear?" she asked me.
"What are my choices?"
She smiled. "Anything you'd like, Ms. Alexis."
"Anything?" I asked with surprise. "Chocolate croissants? And strawberries?"
She curtsied again. "Certainly. Mr. Tristan?"
I stared at him as he rattled off a list of eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and practically every other breakfast item known to mankind.
"I told you I was starving," he said once Ophelia disappeared.
"I thought we were in a hurry," I muttered. "It'll take forever for her to cook all that."
But as soon as I said the last word, Ophelia came through the door again, another tray on her arm. I wondered if the kitchen always had food ready to go and then the truth hit me–the chef probably prepared it with magic. And then I realized, with mild shock, Ophelia herself was probably a witch. I'd only just learned the basics of the creatures that made up the Amadis, and mage made the most sense. Since she served the royal family domestically, she couldn't have been a warlock, who'd be out fighting, even at her age. Although … she might have been a Were, explaining how her frail-looking body could hold all that food, but then I noticed she wasn't actually carrying it. The tray hovered just over her arm, so it only
looked
as though she carried it.
Yep, a witch. Weird.
Dorian eyed her, apparently not seeing that magic held the tray. "How are you so strong, Ophelia? You're so old!"
"Dorian!" I hissed, my face even hotter than it had been. "That's not nice."
"He's simply saying what he sees–I
am
old," Ophelia said with a chuckle as she doled out all of Tristan's plates. Then she winked at Dorian. "Bat wing soup and lots of vegetables."
"Ew," Dorian said, wrinkling his nose. "Good thing I'm strong because of my dad."
"Vegetables help," Tristan said as he pierced some kind of decorative leaf on his plate of eggs and shoved it into his mouth.
He dug into all his food while I pulled my croissant apart, picking at it more than eating it. My stomach remained knotted with worry, not helped by the embarrassment for my loss of control last night. I couldn't ever have felt any more awkward than I did at this moment, sitting at a table full of people who had all experienced my orgasm right along with me.
"
Alexis!
" Rina's voice said in my head, sounding very nearly like her regular voice but loud as a shout. I nearly jumped in my seat at the urgent tone and my eyes shot up at her. Her brows drew together as she studied me then she finally said, "
I need to talk to you about your gift
."
Had she heard my thoughts about last night? I blushed.
"
Yes, we will talk about that, but it will have to wait,
" she said
.
"
I need to discuss a few things with you regarding the council meeting.
"
This way or in private?
I asked her.
She rose from her chair. "We need to be at the Council Hall in ten minutes. Sophia, Alexis, please come with me, yes?"
I dropped the fist-sized strawberry I was eating onto the plate next to my half-eaten croissant, wiped the red juice from my fingers onto the cloth napkin and stood up.
"I'll stay with Dorian during the meeting," Owen offered. He wasn't a member of the council–just my bodyguard, though I thought of him more like the big brother I never had but always wanted. Similarly, he was like an uncle to Dorian. They adored each other. Dorian, who'd been pouting because he wanted Tristan to himself all day, grinned at the idea of at least getting to hang out with Uncle Owen.
"No, Owen, I would like you at the meeting," Rina said. "You will continue to serve as Alexis's protector, so you need to know everything. Ophelia will take care of him."
"We'll go toad hunting," Ophelia called from the kitchen, just as Dorian was about to frown again. His eyes lit up. He jumped off his chair, gave Tristan and me quick hugs and ran for the kitchen.
I followed Rina and Mom out of the dining room and down a long hallway. Rina's deep-violet, floor-length gown swished at her legs as we entered what appeared to be her office. It was large and beautifully decorated, with polished wood furniture, including a desk and ceiling-high bookshelves, full of ancient-looking books and knickknacks. A leather sofa and two high-back chairs created a sitting area near the fireplace, where crackling flames danced, as they did in every fireplace in the cool stone mansion.
Everything
was antique.
"Alexis, use your mind to determine if anyone is nearby," Rina said after Mom closed and locked the door.
This was something she could do herself, of course, so she was either allowing me to practice or testing me. I probed outwards with my mind, careful to keep my mental wall in place. I sensed no other thoughts nearby and shook my head.
"Before we go into the council meeting, you need to know we have not disclosed your gift of telepathy to anyone," Rina said, moving to the chair behind her desk. Mom and I took the seats in front of her. "Only the three of us, Solomon, Tristan and Owen possess this knowledge, and I want it to remain so for as long as we can keep it secret."
I nodded. She had told me this before, at the beach house in the Florida Keys, implying it had to do with the video I'd received showing the Daemoni beheading Tristan. The video was, obviously, a fake.
"I do not even want the council to be made aware at this time," Rina said.
"Okay … but why? I thought you figured out the Daemoni had hacked your email and sent the video to me–"
"That was a guess," Mom said. "It makes the most sense they would send it, but we're still investigating. Rina has reason to believe–"
"I would like you to listen to the council members' minds during the meeting," Rina cut in, her eyes flashing anger at Mom.
My eyebrows shot up. "Um … I could be missing something here … but isn't that a big invasion of privacy?"
"You
are
missing something," Mom said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms as she glared at Rina.
"What?"
"I–" Rina broke Mom's gaze and began shuffling and stacking papers on her desk. "I just need you to listen."
"But why me? Can't you do it?" I didn't mean to sound so demanding, but her request made me uncomfortable. As did the tension between the two of them.
Rina abandoned her papers and clasped her hands together. Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath and she shook her head slowly. I'd noticed yesterday, while she provided some of the answers I'd been waiting to hear for so long, a new shadow over her I'd never seen before. Something different–less confidence, I supposed, as if something had seriously shaken her. I thought my mention of Noah, her son and Mom's twin, had caused it, but today the gloom was more pronounced. Her face appeared tighter than normal, and she held her shoulders at a more defined angle, as if stress locked her muscles in place.
"Someone might be blocking her power," Mom said when Rina didn't answer me.
"But not mi–? Wait–they can
block
your power?"
Rina sighed, the sound pregnant with profound sadness.
What's making her so unhappy? What can I do to help?
"There is a possibility a mage might be able to shield me from entering his or her mind," she finally said. "A slight possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. I would have thought only a sorcerer would be powerful enough, but the witch, wizards and warlocks on the council are among the most powerful in the world, nearly rivaling any sorcerer."
"Then they could easily block mine," I pointed out.
"Not if they don't realize they need to," Mom said. "Our reason for keeping it secret."
"Well, there aren't any guarantees it'll stay secret. I don't exactly have the best control." I anxiously pawed at the base of my throat, once again coming up empty, no pendant hanging there.
"I only need you to keep your wall up and listen, just
listen
," Rina said. She implored me with wide, pleading eyes, and I wanted to make that look go away.
But could I do what she asked?
I stood up and walked over to the fireplace, gnawing on my lip and staring at intricately designed glass eggs lining the mantle.
"Alexis, I would not ask you if I did not think you could handle it," Rina continued. "You have excellent control of protecting your own thoughts. I cannot hear them without your allowing me to."
I glanced over my shoulder at her and lifted an eyebrow, hoping it was enough to remind her of last night.
"Yes, well, that is a different matter," she said dismissively.
"You and Tristan won't be having sex at the council meeting," Mom said more bluntly.
"No, but what if something else happens?" I asked, throwing my arms in the air and nearly knocking over one of the eggs. I steadied it before it fell, turned and began pacing. "So many people … all those thoughts … I nearly had a mental breakdown on the flights over here! I'm not ready yet. Can't it wait until I'm better at this?"
"No," Mom and Rina said in unison.
Rina stepped in front of me, forcing me to stop pacing. She took my hands into hers. "I need you to do it now, darling, or I would not ask you. It is quite urgent."
I blinked at her desperate words. "What's going on?"
She pursed her lips together as if trying to hold the words back. "I cannot imagine who … or why … I trust them all immensely … perhaps too much …"
"Who? What?"
"Just say it, Mother," Mom said with obvious impatience.