Power (Soul Savers) (23 page)

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Authors: Kristie Cook

BOOK: Power (Soul Savers)
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Heh. Her wish would be answered, but if she knew
who
our new patient was, she’d be eating
her words, I was sure. At least she wouldn’t be bored anymore.

I don’t know.
Which was true, because I didn’t know if I’d end up killing Vanessa instead of
saving her. But even if the vampire survived, it’d be a while, probably a long
while, before Sheree could learn the truth. I had no idea how we would keep
that secret from her.
But don’t get your
hopes up. I don’t expect to be seeing Charlotte
.

There. That should help. She knew I wasn’t to proceed with a
conversion without Charlotte’s help, so she’d never suspect. I hoped.

The hallway that led to Vanessa’s room felt dark and
ominous, as if we really did traverse the dungeons of an ancient European
castle rather than a mansion on the beach in bright and sunny Florida. I
projected my own fear into my surroundings, of course. The sense of impending
doom shaded the walls and floor in a somber gray, although golden sunlight
poured through the banks of windows at each end. The nearly non-existent
shadows outside meant it was almost noon—we’d already wasted precious
hours of sunlight that kept Vanessa somewhat weak.

The door to the vampire’s temporary accommodations was
closed, probably to keep out said sunlight. She must have heard our approach,
however, because it swung open from the other side. Owen hurried us in and
closed the door quickly behind us. My eyes adjusted to the true darkness of the
room immediately.

The heavy curtains were drawn tight, completely blocking out
the sun. A single bedside lamp was lit, probably for Owen’s sake, since
Vanessa—nor Tristan or I—would really need it to see. Vanessa
leaned limply against the wall, practically hanging from her shackled wrists.
Owen had magically fashioned a tunic out of the tan blanket to cover her
nakedness, for which I was grateful. I was almost surprised she wasn’t
shrieking about its ugliness, as well as the braces on her limbs, but she’d
apparently exhausted her energy. She had to know we’d entered the room, but her
eyes remained closed and her face had never looked so vulnerable.

 
“Vanessa,” I
tried to say, but nothing came out except a croak. For some reason, it occurred
to me that I’d never called her by name to her face. I cleared my throat and
tried again. “V-vanessa?”

“What?” she mumbled without opening her eyes.

My brain had such a hard time processing this
scene—how soft and helpless my worst enemy was before me. How much she
trusted me and didn’t even try to put up any kind of defense in case I
attacked. We could have killed her with one swipe of my dagger and a fireball
from Tristan’s palm, yet she showed no fear. No, she wasn’t fearless. She was
without care. As if she wanted to die.

Don’t be a fool. It
could all be part of her plan.
My internal warning bells sounded. Of course
she could have been faking the exhaustion or the surrender to make me trust
her. I couldn’t take her for granted, not for one moment.

I latched onto her mind signature and worked my way into her
head before I prompted her thoughts. Her mind was open, relaxed, though I could
feel a thread of fear in its deep recesses. But her prominent thought was
discomfort.

“Owen says you want to convert,” I said to bring up the
subject in her mind.

“Yes,” she murmured, and her face remained calm even as her
thoughts ran wild. “
He said she’d do it,
but I don’t think so. How could she accept me as one of her own? She should
have killed me by now. Why hasn’t she? If she doesn’t convert me and doesn’t
kill me, Owen will have to. I can’t ever go back now. Never!

Her thoughts sounded sincere, and I sensed nothing to
contradict them, but I wouldn’t know the real truth until we began. I just
didn’t want to begin.

“You’ll have to declare it,” I said as I made my way slowly
around the room, running my fingers over the velour upholstery of the wingback
chair Owen sat in, straightening the throw pillows on the unused bed, smoothing
down the curtains as if to be sure not a crack of light came through. I didn’t
have this time to waste, but the thought of touching the vampire made my
insides squirm. Vanessa’s lips parted, as if to say something, but I stopped
her. “Not now. Not yet. In a moment.”

I was within touching distance of her now. I only had to
reach out with my arm and place my hand on her skin to begin. She sensed my
closeness. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at me with a faraway look.

“Do what you need to do,” she said.

“It’s going to hurt,” I warned.

Her head moved slightly in a nod. “Owen told me it would be
horrible. But this is what I want.”

“Are you sure?” Again, I was delaying. Her answer didn’t
matter until I was feeding her Amadis power, when she’d actually feel in her
soul everything her decision meant.

A single tear rolled down her cheek. Her voice came out in a
weak whisper. “I want to be loved. Not hated.”

Something happened in my chest. To my heart. A tiny crack
opened. For her, for this vampire who’d always tried to kill me, who I’d sworn
to kill by my own hands. An opening to allow my innate enemy in. A lump formed
in my throat as the warmth of Amadis love and power flowed through my body. For
some reason, this one statement from Vanessa affected my natural instincts more
than anyone I’d worked with before, except Tristan. More love and goodness than
I could hold built within my core, about to explode its way out. If I didn’t
maintain control, this could be disastrous.

Well, I might just
love you to death. Then we’d both get our way.

I almost chuckled at my own thought, until I saw the look on
Vanessa’s face. She showed more fear at this moment than I’d ever seen in her
before. More than when I’d almost fried her in Australia. More than when
Tristan turned his power on her. She sensed the energy I was about to unleash
and feared it.

But she also showed resolve. At this moment, she exemplified
the definition of courage.

“Do it,” she whispered.

I pulled in a deep breath, braced myself for the immense
pain I knew would come and lifted my hand to her.

Oh, God, oh, God, oh,
God. Please, Father, I beg for your strength.

The thought of touching Vanessa—
Vanessa!
—in any way besides a punch or a kick scared the crap
out of me. Or perhaps it was the growing power that scared me so much. I’d
never felt this way before. As though something within my core
wanted
to reach into her soul and grab
it, heal it, change her to be more like me. My heart jackhammered against my
ribs. My chest swelled with so much power … so much
love!
And I didn’t understand it.

Why? Why did she, of all people, make me feel as though this
really was my purpose? Why did something within me want this so badly when a
big part of me wasn’t even positive
she
wanted it? When my brain screamed
trap,
trap, trap
?

My hand shook in midair, following my brain’s orders to stay
away.
Don’t do it
, my mind said.
Love thy enemy
, my heart countered.


Reach out to those
who need you most
,” Cassandra added.

But I didn’t have to reach out to Vanessa.

No longer able to contain the power within the confines of
my corporeality, my body exploded. At least, that’s how it felt. The energy of
love and goodness erupted like a volcano, shooting out of me and pouring
directly over Vanessa, a soft light bathing her as the lava of my power
drenched her body.

Her ice-blue eyes popped open wide and so did her mouth, but
no noise issued forth. She looked more shocked than anything, and I probably
mirrored her expression. Where was the pain, for either of us? Why didn’t she
spasm and convulse as the others had? Why didn’t I feel … anything? The only
sensation I had was that of Tristan’s and Owen’s eyes staring at us in awe.

“Vanessa,” I whispered hoarsely. Her stunned gaze fluttered
toward me. “Say it now. Declare your motives.”

Her eyes locked on mine. “I want this. I want to be Amadis.”

“Why?”

“I want love,” she said flatly, as if nothing could be more
obvious. As if the words didn’t come out of the most hateful mouth I’d ever
heard speak. But somehow what she said made as much sense to me as it obviously
did to her. “I want to love others. I want to be loved. I want to be the person
I am meant to be. Not who everyone else thinks I am.” She finally cried out,
but still, not in pain. Not physical pain, anyway. Fat tears rolled down her
cheeks as her head dropped and her gaze broke from mine. “Nobody knows the real
me. Only Owen has seen through my façade.”

I shook my head. “God knows. He sees your heart.”

“Not Satan,” she moaned. “He’s caused all this. His deceit,
his lies … he caused all this pain I’ve suffered for so long.”

“No, not Satan. The true God. You must accept our God as
yours.”

She lifted her head and looked at me again. Conviction
swirled in her eyes as they held mine.

“I do,” she whispered, and I didn’t have to read her mind to
know she meant it. Her desire for Him to enter her heart was palpable.

Without any warning, my body launched itself at her. I
wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly against me.

And with the collision of good and evil energies finally
came the intense pain.

The evil energy within her was so much greater and so much
more powerful than I’d ever felt before, even with Tristan. Our high-pitched
screams tangled together into an eerie song. I hung onto her in a death-grip as
our bodies convulsed against each other’s in a freakish dance. Tristan or Owen
must have released her arms from their shackles, because they were suddenly
around me, holding on as if I were her life preserver. Which, at this point, I
probably was.

We collapsed to the floor, and the clash of the opposing
powers rocked us back and forth. I pushed my Amadis power against her Daemoni
energy and it pushed back. Hard. The iciness of the evil slid into my veins,
but I willed the warmth of love to melt it, boil it, evaporate it. But just as
I felt warm again, more ice prickled its way in. I fought it, again and again
and again. The evil only seemed to strengthen.

Tristan said—or perhaps simply thought—something
about night. Had that many hours already passed? Darkness would explain the
increased struggle. If the sun had set, the Daemoni power in Vanessa would no
longer be at its weakest. So I gathered my own strength and willed it into her,
fighting, fighting, fighting.

Until I could fight no more.

What did Charlotte say about becoming too drained? I
couldn’t remember now. My brain was too fuzzy. Something about being drained of
my energy was bad. Very bad.

I closed my eyes as I tried to focus on the goodness still
within me and share it with Vanessa. Visions that weren’t mine appeared in my
mind. Images of corpses, pale faces with vacant eyes, savaged throats …
Vanessa’s kills. With each flash of an image, she experienced a mix of remorse
and glee. And then there was only blood. Blood, blood, blood
everywhere
. I felt her thirst, her
present need to feed, her desire to feed on me.

No!
I tried to
yell at her, but it came out weakly.
Vanessa
… you’re stronger … than … the desire. You … can … fight it.

I felt her try, felt the thirst diminish a bit. Then a
somewhat familiar vision popped into my mind, although I saw it from a
different perspective—Vanessa’s. We’d just flashed into the fight at the
beach house right after I’d gone through the
Ang’dora
, and Vanessa got her first look at me after the change.
Anger and hatred boiled up within her again, mirroring her feelings back then,
but more than anything she felt envy. And not only because of Tristan.


You have everything!

she’d thought.
“Everything! How do you
get it all and I get nothing?! I was supposed to have it all! ME!

Her current feelings escalated to nearly pure hatred, and
her mind filled with various ways to kill me. I fought back, pushing what
Amadis power I still had into her, pulling the evil energy away from her. But
my power was weak and the Daemoni energy too strong. The ice stabbed into my
veins again.

The next thing I knew, I no longer held Vanessa in my arms.
My head came back to the darkly lit room to find Owen holding her instead,
securing her limbs tightly against her convulsing body so they wouldn’t flail.
I was across the room, in Tristan’s lap, his arms around me.

“No!” I jumped to my feet, away from him. “Don’t you do
this! Don’t you take the power.”

“I’m not, my love. I’m not.” He reached up for my hands.
“I’m giving you what you need.”

The energy of his love flowed through my hands and up my
arms. When I didn’t feel a pull, as I did when he’d tried to leech the Daemoni
power out of me before, I relaxed and let him pull me back into his lap. He
wrapped his arms around me again and pushed his love through every place where
our skin touched. Under different circumstances, I would have been tearing our
clothes off for the increased skin contact.

“Is it working?” he asked after a while.

“Yeah,” I murmured with my eyes still closed as I continued
to picture his naked body against mine. Even the thought of it seemed to build
my power even more, so I had a good reason for the naughty vision.

“Good. She needs you,” Owen said, and the image vanished. I
reluctantly opened my eyes.

“Patience,” Tristan told him. “You insisted on Alexis doing
this by herself, so she needs to go slow. I won’t let this kill her.” When Owen
opened his mouth, Tristan added, “Either of them, if we can help it. But you
know my choice if one needs to be made.”

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