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Authors: Kristie Cook

BOOK: Power (Soul Savers)
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Owen stared at us long and hard, then finally muttered,
“Let’s hope we don’t have to choose.”

Vanessa’s seizures had died down, but she began to moan.

“Seth,” she cried, tears seeping between the lashes of her
closed lids. Tristan’s old name wasn’t a cry of desire, though, at least not in
a lustful way. Longing filled the sound, and deep sadness. The image came to me
clearly.

Through her eyes, I watched from a distance as Tristan took
hold of my mom’s hands. He gazed at her face with complete trust. Her lips
moved and her voice traveled to our vampire ears: “You’re sure this is what you
want?”

Tristan nodded. And then they both disappeared.

“No!” Vanessa cried. “Don’t leave me! Take me with you!”

Probably unintentionally, she shared her intense feelings of
abandonment, loneliness, loss as “her” Seth went with my mom to be converted. “
I want to go, too
,” her mind whispered.
But then her anger overwhelmed her once again. Anger at Seth and even more at
my mother for taking him away … and for leaving her behind. Why would Mom leave
her behind, though? If Vanessa really wanted to convert way back then, why
wouldn’t Mom do it? Vanessa’s thoughts answered for me: she wasn’t ready to
voice it aloud then. She still hadn’t been sure that’s what she wanted. So,
instead, she let anger and hate rule her life for another thirty years. That
was her comfort zone.

I went to her again and took her out of Owen’s arms and into
my own. Another wave of pain engulfed both of us, but not quite as bad as
before. As our energies fought, her memories continued to fill my mind, as
though we moved backwards through her life. More kills, more dead faces, more
blood.

And then … in Vanessa’s mind, we sat with a familiar person
draped across our lap, holding his shoulders in our left arm, his head lolled
back on a limp neck and his white-blond hair falling to the sides. Victor,
Vanessa’s brother, wore what seemed to be the fashion of early Victorian
London, and he was dead. Tiny streams of blood leaked out of two
puncture-wounds on his neck and the taste of it lingered on our tongue. Regret
combined with the thrill of revenge filled Vanessa’s thoughts as she gazed at
her brother.

“How dare you!” yelled an icy male voice, the owner unseen
in our vision. “Don’t let him die! Turn him!”

Vanessa had changed her own brother? I couldn’t believe what
I was experiencing, but I could feel the truth coming from her.

A wave of pain wracked through us both, and the vision
disappeared. We rode the crest, and as it receded, more memories flooded back.
We lay on a bed in a room with brown, stone walls, where shadows danced from
flickering candlelight. Or perhaps our vision made the room flicker as pain
roiled through us. Not current pain—at least I didn’t think so—the
sensation was dulled by time. Vanessa’s breaths labored in our lungs, and we
felt weak, so weak. “
I’m dying
,” she
thought, convinced of it.

Then we must have been lying on a bed as another familiar
face loomed over us—that of the vampire who had demanded I stop writing,
the one I thought had been my own character Claudius when I had believed he was
only a dream. But we weren’t dreaming now. We were remembering.

“Your weakness is abhorrent! Now you will be strong and more
suitable,” said the same voice that had ordered Vanessa to turn Victor rather
than let him die. The vampire standing over us hadn’t spoken, though. The sound
had come from our right.

Our eyes drifted over to a man’s silhouette standing at a
window. His back was to us as he stared into the blackness beyond, but Vanessa
knew him, knew him well. Her father? No, I didn’t think so. But somewhat of a
father figure. At least, he might have been, but as the vampire’s mouth clamped
onto her neck, she only felt hatred toward the man at the window. He was taking
everything she ever wanted away. She would have rather died.

With the renewed anger and hatred, the Daemoni power boosted
once again. We fought it together, but Vanessa weakened to it quickly. I gave
her all the goodness I could muster, but I, too, began to drain again. And once
more, I found myself back in the present room, shivering in Tristan’s lap.

“I’m s-so c-c-cold,” I stammered between chattering teeth.
The Daemoni power had come closer to overpowering me than I’d realized. Tristan
rubbed his hands up and down my arms, trying to warm me. “K-k-kiss. I need-d-d
a k-k-kiss.”

I tilted my head up to lift my face to his, and his mouth
pressed gently to mine, then harder as our lips separated and our tongues
danced. Yes, exactly what I’d needed. The love was so much more powerful and so
much more direct through the kiss than through the skin. He kissed me long and
deep, and I pulled in his goodness.

“Don’t take it,” I said to him when we’d finally broken
apart, knowing he’d understand what I meant.

“I won’t,” he promised. “The sun will be rising soon. It
should become easier.”

I remained in his embrace until we felt the evil power
weaken in Vanessa from the sun’s appearance outside. Then I sucked in a breath,
let the Amadis power build up again and went back to the vampire’s side.

Vanessa
, I spoke
into her mind.
Do you remember love?

A new image popped into my mind—Tristan’s face. But he
looked a little different and it took me a moment to realize I saw him through
Vanessa’s eyes for the very first time, over two hundred years ago. Her heart
swelled, and she knew she loved him at first sight. I squelched the jealousy
creeping into my own heart and focused on my patient.

That’s right
, I
said, my inner voice shaking.
Remember
love.

But the Daemoni power fought back and suddenly we were upset
again. Seth had just rejected us. “
But
we’re
supposed
to be together!

Vanessa cried silently as he walked away without a backward glance. Our heart
ripped apart into pieces, shards cutting into our soul. But then resolve mended
our wounds and determination to have him filled us. Her desire grew into more
than love and lust, but into a selfish need to prove herself right. I didn’t
understand what that meant, but knew, as the evil power started building again,
I needed to get her back on track.

Love, Vanessa. Think
of love—those you’ve loved, those who have loved you.

I thought it worked as an image of teenaged Victor filled
our thoughts. Both he and Vanessa were pre-vampire now, yet … not completely
human. What were they, if not Norman before they were changed? A question I
couldn’t worry about now.

Vanessa had loved her brother, and I refocused my thoughts
on him, but I also felt jealousy in her, especially as Victor turned and joined
a man who was only a foggy figure at the fringe of our vision. As he turned, I
thought it could have been the same man who’d been at the window, calling her
weak and allowing her humanity to be taken away. A white-blond ponytail hung
down his back, just as one did down Victor’s. The man draped an arm over
Victor’s shoulder as they sauntered off, leaving Vanessa to feel abandoned,
outcast, lonely, crying in the corner of a cavernous room with the only light
flickering from torches on the wall. She only wanted to be loved and included,
but neither of them seemed to care, strengthening my belief that the man
probably wasn’t her father. Perhaps a sperm donor, but not a father. Not to
her, anyway.

Vanessa felt the hurt and jealousy again, feeding the evil
energy. The Daemoni power within her took on a new urgency, growing stronger
and more intense. I built up my own power, readying myself to fight it.
This could be it. Final battle coming soon.

Vanessa’s thoughts lost their cohesiveness. Images of living
in a castle mixed with the wonder of being brought to live there dissolved into
earlier memories of a crumbling cottage that had once been their home. The
vision of a pretty woman’s face—their mother?—filled our minds now,
and I knew Vanessa did love her.

That’s right. Focus on
love.

A high shrieking sound pierced my ears as the evil energy
protested, building and growing, becoming a gigantic dark cloud enshrouding
Vanessa, trying to fill the entire room. The air froze around us, the chill
seeping into my bones.

I’d been right—this was it. The final battle for
Vanessa’s soul.

Chapter 16
 

That’s right, Vanessa.
Remember love. You can be loved! You can love again!

Vanessa’s mom or caregiver or whoever she was spoke sweetly
to her, and although I couldn’t hear the words, I encouraged Vanessa’s mind to
latch onto the kind voice. I focused on my own love, my goodness, the Amadis
power within me, creating that bubble inside me and growing it until I could
contain it no more.

Vanessa shrieked as the evil energy exploded from her, and I
cried out, too, as my Amadis power burst from me once again. The powers
collided and fought around and inside us. Vanessa’s body trembled and quaked
and seized in my arms.

Fight!
I screamed
at her.
If you want this, you’ll fight
it. And you’ll win! Let goodness win, Vanessa. Release the evil. You can do
this!

And she fought. Even as she drew on my power, my heart
swelled with pride and conviction. My soul burst with love for her, for her
determination, her perseverance to overcome what had dwelled inside of her for
so long. I pushed as hard as she pulled. And we were winning. Winning! The
Daemoni energy warred against us, but the Amadis power was stronger.

But she kept pulling with vehemence, strengthening her
goodness with mine, until I had no more to share. And still, she tried to pull
more, eagerly lapping it up like blood, draining me as if she were feeding off
me. In some distant corner of my consciousness, which was fading quickly, I
felt a stream of love pushing into me.

Tristan? What was he doing? I was still connected with
Vanessa. The powers were still battling it out. If he held on, if the energies

Crap
. What did Charlotte say would
happen? I still couldn’t remember. Bad, though. Very bad.

The clashing energies suddenly withdrew and separated. They
each built up, two clouds, one black and the other bright-white, growing,
churning, intensifying. Electricity charged through every cell of my being. And
as if they actually had minds and planned the assault, the energies charged at
one another.

The crash of the collision pierced my ears and the pain
rattled my bones.

Vanessa screamed. So did I.

Then I lost it. Lost everything. I had no more to give, no
more to keep me in the battle.

Everything fell silent. Went black.

Then gray.

Then muted sounds. Heavy breathing. Sobbing. Whimpering. A
soothing voice trying to quiet another.

My consciousness slowly returned. I lay on the floor. No. On
Tristan’s lap. His face came into focus above me, his eyes filled with concern.

“Is it over?” I asked, my voice a hoarse whisper. He nodded.
The relief lasted only a moment as the memory of Charlotte’s warning shot
through me. If I allowed my energy to be drained during a conversion, the evil
energy would be transferred, not eliminated. And Vanessa had drained me. I
bolted upright. “Oh, no! Did you take it? Did you take the dark power?”

He shook his head. “No, my love. I’m good.”

“Owen?” My head twisted, my focus shooting across the room
until it landed on him, with a very limp Vanessa in his arms.

He shook his head, too. “I’m fine.”

I studied Vanessa’s face—relaxed, even more beautiful
in its serenity.

“But it worked?” I asked.

“I feel no evil energy left within her,” Owen said. “Not
even a trace.”


Really?
” I
couldn’t believe it. Six months since her conversion, Sonya still had traces of
Daemoni power. And she’d only been Daemoni for a few years. Sheree said that
was normal, that the residual energy could linger for months or even longer.
How could Vanessa be eliminated of it already? I crawled out of Tristan’s lap
and over to Owen and Vanessa to see for myself. I pressed my hand to Vanessa’s
chest, over her heart, and assessed her.

Owen was right. Not a trace. I had done it. I’d converted
Vanessa. Freakin’
Vanessa
!


You did well
,”
Cassandra said softly.

Thank you,
I told
her.


It was all you,
Alexis. You and the power you’ve been given.
” With that, her presence
disappeared.

To be one-hundred-percent positive the vamp wasn’t hiding
anything, I tapped into her mind. The voice of the woman from her
vision—the one I’d told her to latch onto and remember—floated
through her thoughts:

“Hidden daughter of
enemy and ally will offer strength and valor to the worthy. Yet first, she must
unite with son of power and war. Only when together will they anchor victory
over foe.


That’s your prophecy,
Vanessa. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.

Vanessa’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of my gasp, and
she looked at me without focus then up at Owen above her. Her gaze sharpened,
and she clawed at her throat.

“So … thirsty,” she croaked, and all three of
us—Tristan, Owen, and me—stiffened for a moment. Then Owen
stretched out his arm, obviously planning to give her his wrist.

“Wait!” I said. “Do we really want to do that?”

Owen eyed me. “She needs to drink.”

“But your blood is too powerful.”

Owen glanced at Tristan and back at me. “It’s the weakest
blood here. We have no other options, do we?”

I grimaced. “Yes, we do. Let’s do this right.”

“Sheree will notice missing supplies,” Tristan said.

“I know, but too bad. She’s going to find out sooner or
later anyway.” I stood, a little too quickly—pinpricks of light danced
across my vision. I, too, was still weak. Tristan caught my wobbly frame and
sat me down in the wingback chair.

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