Soul Savers: Power Part 8

"Wait a minute." She paused, and I sighed. She was feeling out for the truth. "Ca.s.sandra, huh? Well, keep in mind a couple of things. One, we don't know if Ca.s.sandra-or any of the ascended daughters-actually became Angels. They might serve the Angels or work with them, but we have no proof that we become a full-fledged Angel when we leave this realm. That's an Otherworld secret and not even I can determine the truth about it. Second, you are unique, Alexis. Precedence means little when it comes to you. And third, you're not crazy. You are brave and incredibly powerful, and maybe you're still discovering exactly what that means."

"You can tell me all that, but can't feel the truth about the voice in my head?"

"I would say that's something the Angels want you to figure out for yourself because I'm not feeling anything, one way or the other." The sound of something covering the microphone on Mom's end followed by m.u.f.fled voices came through the line. "I'm sorry, honey, but I have to go. Trust your instincts. Maybe that's what you're supposed to learn from this."

I hung up feeling more lost than ever. I considered the idea of retrieving my dagger and trying to reach out to Ca.s.sandra, but I didn't think that would give me answers now. After all, if my subconscious wanted me to believe I heard Ca.s.sandra when I needed a spirit boost, it certainly would be trying now. I couldn't trust myself.

And in that case, how would I ever know for sure?

Chapter 8.

"Everything fixed. Your bedroom and everything in it look brand new," Blossom announced as she came into the bare living room.

Although she'd been coming over to repair our bedroom nearly every morning for three months, I still blushed as I smoothed the last piece of blue tape across the windowsill.

"Thank you," I said as I rose to my feet, my face burning. "Again."

"Why are you so embarra.s.sed? If I had a s.e.x life like yours, I'd be telling the world. Of course, I'd have to do it from my phone or some other way since I wouldn't be able to walk. He must be amazing, to get so crazy almost every night."

I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips. "Better than amazing."

She shook her head. "Intelligent, powerful, gorgeous, and a s.e.x G.o.d? So not fair you get it all in one."

"I know, right?" I said, loosening up, then I struck a silly diva pose. "But, so does he. There's a reason they say we're made for each other."

She laughed, then eyed the two jugs of paint on the floor near her feet. "So, were you planning to do this by yourself?"

I shrugged. "Sure. Why not? Tristan's busy wiring toys over at the safe house, but I'm ready to work on our own house. It's time to make it a real home."

"Toys?"

"Yeah, networks, entertainment systems, intercoms, that kind of stuff." I rolled my eyes. "I guess it'll all be convenient, but the boy is way into his toys."

"Ah. Well, need some help?" the witch asked, glancing around the room. "I mean, I could have this done in no time with a few flicks of my wand."

I chuckled. "Thanks, but I need something to do before I go stir crazy. Using magic won't solve that problem."

Blossom nodded. "I so get that. I could use something to do myself."

"Then if you don't mind doing it the Norman way, it'd be fun to have your help." I picked up a drop cloth, shook it out and let it fall over the floor. Blossom followed my lead, and in a few minutes we had the floor covered.

"So now what?" Blossom asked after she brought the rest of the paint and supplies from my car while I retrieved a ladder and set it up.

I recalled the instructions the guy at the hardware store gave me. "The paint goes in those pans, then you roll the roller in it until it's covered. You paint a big M on the wall and then go across it to fill it in."

"Sounds easy enough."

We each set about filling our own pans and painting our first Ms into big squares of a pale aqua blue.

"Pretty color," Blossom said as she worked.

"Tristan wouldn't let me paint it purple, so I thought I'd go with airy, beachy colors." I looked over at Blossom to see how she was doing-about as well as I was, which wasn't saying much. She stopped and tilted her head to the side as she stared at the wall.

"I don't think these rollers will reach the edges," she said.

I smacked my forehead, wet paint smudging from my hand to my head. Great. By the time this was over, I'd probably have more paint on me than on the walls. "Oh, c.r.a.p. I forgot. The guy said something about cutting in with a paintbrush first."

"What guy?"

"The guy at the hardware store who taught me how to paint."

Blossom turned to look at me, her mouth open. "Wait. You've never painted before? Not even your own room?"

"I've never lived anywhere long enough to bother. Have you?

"Yeah, but not this way." Blossom burst into laughter. "We're the blind leading the blind. This is going to be so much fun!"

"Well, how hard can it be?" Worst case scenario: the room turned out looking as though a two-year-old painted it, but Blossom would be able to fix it, and hopefully before Tristan saw. Otherwise, I'd never hear the end of his teases.

"So why do you need something to do?" I asked from the top of the ladder as I did the cutting-in while Blossom rolled the paint. The witch usually kept busy baking cakes, creating new spells and spending time with the vampire-barista on Captiva.

"With the tourists and s...o...b..rds gone for the summer, there's not much business for my cakes. It'll pick up in the next couple months as they start coming down, but I haven't decided if I'm really up for making all those cakes this year." As usual, Blossom's mind and mouth were speeding along. "I guess I'm getting a little bored with it. And I haven't come up with any spells or potions lately. I feel like I should be working on my magic with everything going on, but I can't focus."

"And would that have anything to do with Eduardo?" I teased.

"Ugh. Eduardo can bite my a.s.s. Well, not really. I don't want him biting any part of me anymore." Blossom shuddered. "I'm so not talking about him. We'll leave it that he's quite lacking when it comes to treating women well. So, anyway, I've just been feeling antsy. Jittery. Maybe because of all that stuff going on with the Daemoni, and I feel as if I'm being a big coward by sitting here on this beautiful island, doing nothing. Maybe it will get better when we have a real safe house with more than one measly occupant. How's Sonya doing anyway? Have you heard anything from Charlotte yet? Any news on when she'll be coming back? It's been a couple months already. Is that why you're so antsy?"

And just like that, Blossom had our conversation turned in a whole different direction.

"Sonya's still in early recovery mode, which means she's more like a zombie than a vampire, pretty much doing nothing but listening to Sheree's lessons. Charlotte's busy with all the other safe houses, which are staying pretty full with the Daemoni attacks. They're definitely trying to build an army."

"And we do the same, which takes away from their numbers, right?"

"Right. So Charlotte's working her b.u.t.t off and all the other safe houses are so full, they can't spare any team members to join me down here. I can't help them, though, because I'm not experienced enough, but Char's too busy to train me. It's a catch-22." My annoyance rose, causing my brush to slip and paint a streak of pale aqua on the white ceiling. I swore to myself. "I supposedly have all this power, but I'm completely useless."

Blossom murmured something under her breath, and the blue streak on the ceiling disappeared. "So why don't you go into the field?"

I sighed. "You know me. I can't leave Dorian for that long. Besides, Rina says Tristan and I are only to leave here to retrieve the pendant since we have no protector. But still, the stupid vampire b.i.t.c.h plays her game of hide-and-seek."

Over the last couple of months, Blossom had watched Dorian a few times while Tristan and I tried to find Vanessa in her normal hangouts, but if she were anywhere around, we couldn't draw the vampire out from her hiding spot. I thought she would have given in by now, too obsessed with killing me to stay away, but she either had more self-control than any of us gave her credit for, or she was distracted by something even bigger and better than we could imagine. Which was a pretty scary thought, considering the last time we knew of her whereabouts, Owen had been with her.

I still hadn't figured out that whole situation, and I tried to follow everyone's advice not to worry-"he can take care of himself"-but my heart still ached for him. His voicemail greeting changed every now and then, which meant he was at least alive and kicking. I called or texted him daily, hoping this might be the time he answered. He hadn't answered yet. I began to believe he truly hated me for what I'd done to his father.

"Yeah, it all pretty much sucks," I said. "At least if I had a team here, I'd feel like I was somehow helping the cause." A thought occurred to me then. "Blossom, you were born into the Amadis, right?"

The witch looked up at me as she finished the last patch of our first wall, a strange expression on her face. She seemed to ponder whether to tell me something, but then, after a deep breath, she let it all spill.

"Sort of. I was never part of the Daemoni, if that's what you mean. My father-sperm donor, as you'd call him-was a Daemoni wizard who raped my Norman mother. Aunt Sylvie, his sister, had converted to Amadis years before, and she found out about my mother, took her in until I was born, then changed her memories so she thought she'd miscarried and sent her on her way."

"Wow," I breathed. "How horrible."

"Yeah. Rape is pretty common among the Daemoni. Sick b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."

A thought needled into my brain, and my stomach clenched. Had Tri- I immediately pushed the thought away. I didn't know if I ever wanted that answer.

"How awful that you never knew either of your parents, though," I said. "Why did your aunt do that to you and your mother? How could she do that to you?"

"Good intentions, believe me. If my father found out he'd gotten my mother pregnant, he'd come after me, knowing I'd have magic. He would have killed her and raised me Daemoni, and Aunt Sylvie wouldn't allow that. Yeah, I'm a result of a really effed-up situation." She shrugged. "But Aunt Sylvie loves me, even when she's annoyed at my screw-ups. She and the rest of the coven raised me well."

I climbed down the ladder and moved it to the next wall, then returned the conversation to the idea I'd had. "So did Sylvie ever teach you to use your Amadis power?"

"In case you couldn't tell when you met her last year, Aunt Sylvie isn't big on getting involved like that. She and her coven prefer staying out of the limelight."

"Hmm ... is it something-"

"Hey, Mom!" Dorian yelled as he ran into the living room, Sasha right on his heels.

"Hey, little man," I said. "Watch out for the wet-"

Too late. Sasha's tail swished across the wall we'd just painted, leaving an ugly streak in the paint and a pretty blue tint on the tip of her white tail.

"Um, maybe you two should go to your room," I said.

"But I wanted to show you what I taught Sasha. Will you watch?"

I lowered my brush and nodded. With a big smile, one I'd give anything to see the rest of my life, my son proceeded to kneel down on all fours. The lykora, looking like a normal white dog at the moment, stood next to him, both of their b.u.t.ts toward Blossom and me.

"Ready, Sasha?" Dorian said, and Sasha bobbed her head. "1 ... 2 ... 3."

They both let out the loudest farts I'd ever heard. Dorian howled with laughter as he rolled on the floor, and Sasha danced circles around him, barking and wagging her tail with pride.

"I taught her how to fart on command!" Dorian gasped with glee, as if that was the best and funniest trick ever.

Speechless, I looked sideways at Blossom, whose body silently quaked as she held her hand over her mouth.

"Boys," I whispered, shaking my head, and unable to keep it in any longer, we both doubled over with laughter, joining Dorian's hoots.

"Sasha, that is so unladylike," I admonished the lykora as I wiped my eyes.

"She's not a lady, Mom. She's a dog! And the best one ever." Dorian threw his arms around Sasha's neck, and she returned his love with a tongue up the side of his face. "Mom, I think our guy in our book needs to have a pet dragon."

"A dragon?" I asked, confused. He referred to the children's story we were writing together. The book would probably never get published since there was no Amadis purpose for Rina and Mom to pull their strings with their contacts, but it gave Dorian and me something to work on together. He enjoyed that part of his language studies, but his comment came out of the blue. "Why not a dog?"

"Duh, Mom. Because a dragon can fart fire!"

Blossom still hadn't stopped giggling and this idea made her crack up harder, sending Dorian and me into hysterics again, too. Dorian abruptly quieted.

"Mom," he said, and my laughter stopped immediately at the serious tone of his voice. "What's wrong with Sasha?"

The dog stood at the window now, her nose pressed against the gla.s.s. Her all-white fur began to show shades of her lykora stripes. Dorian hurried over to see what she saw, but the hair on the nape of my neck already began to rise.

"What's out there?" I managed to ask over the lump in my throat.

"Two babes getting out of a taxi," Dorian said. "They have funny hair, though. One's blue and the other's purple."

I blurred to the window. c.r.a.p. c.r.a.p, c.r.a.p, c.r.a.p.

"Dorian, you need to go to your room now. I'm sure you have more studies to do," I said, kneeling down to stroke Sasha's back. My fingers grazed over k.n.o.bby ridges where her wings would come out, and her baby powder scent filled my nostrils, stronger than usual with her heightened awareness. "It's okay, girl," I whispered.

"But I want to meet the pretty girls," Dorian whined.

"Maybe later," I said absently, watching the faeries as they paid the cabdriver. "Now go."

I picked up Sasha and whispered in her ear. "Protect."

She bounded out of my hands and trailed Dorian down the hall to his room. The faeries had never done anything to hurt us-had in fact helped us more than once-but they couldn't be trusted. The only faerie we could trust completely was Bree.

"Should I get Tristan?" Blossom asked, standing next to me at the window.

I considered it for only a moment. "Nah. I need to be able to take care of things on my own."

Blossom peered at me with doubt. "Faeries, though? Are you sure?"

I nodded. "What's the worst that can happen?"

"You don't even want to know." She shook her head. "I'm staying, though. I'm not leaving you alone with them."

The doorbell rang, and Blossom accompanied me to the front door. The faerie sisters beamed beautifully, both dressed in halters, short-shorts and four-inch-high wedge sandals, looking like models ready for a shoot on the beach.

"Hey, Alexis!" Lisa, the blue-haired faerie, exclaimed, her southern drawl p.r.o.nounced. "How ahr yew?"

I blinked. "Um, fine, I suppose."

"Not happay to say us?" Jessica asked, a fake pout on her lips painted the same lilac color of her hair.

"Oh, no, of course not. I mean, it's always good to see you," I stammered. I stepped back from the door. "Please, come in."

The faeries pushed past Blossom and me as they sauntered inside and down the hall, their heads bobbing to and fro as they unabashedly scrutinized my house worse than a mother-in-law.

"We're painting," I said, as if the mess didn't make it obvious. "It'll dry if we don't keep going, so if you don't mind ..."