Free Purpose by Kristie Cook Page B

envied
their normal lives and their ability to relax and have fun. I
wanted to let go of my screwed up life and pretend I was one of
them. I only ventured as far as the hotel’s bar and sipped some
kind of frozen, fruity concoction. The outdoor bar faced the street
and the passing crowds provided limitless opportunities for
people-watching. I felt bad vibes off some of the revelers. And a
few set off my evil alarms. Both Tristan and Stefan had once said
this was one of the Daemoni’s favorite stomping grounds.
    I felt their eyes on me. They surely had to
recognize me. They could capture me if they wanted. I tried to
ignore my sense’s command to run, telling myself I wasn’t the
frightened young girl I used to be. What’s the worst they could
do to me? I wondered as I stirred the pixie straw around my
slushy drink. Would they torture me or just outright kill me? Maybe they’ll bring me to my love . Would they take me to him
and let us at least be together? Or did they even have him?
Apparently, enough doubt about the video lingered. And then I
wondered if they would decapitate me, too, and send the video to
the Amadis. My stomach clenched. But then Psycho Alexis told me
even that would be okay. Being together, whether within their
captivity or both of us dead, had to be better than what I’d lived
through so far. I had a brief impulse to walk right up to one and
let them have me.
    And then I saw Owen across the bar, keeping
an eye on me. Protecting me. Probably just as much from myself as
from the Daemoni. I’d given him a job again. Actually, I realized,
he was not alone. I felt the presence of several Amadis, all on
guard for me. Just in case. I had been right—Mom would never let me
be completely alone. Realizing this suppressed Psycho Alexis.
    I wondered how these innate enemies seemed to
co-exist. I’d seen the carnage both sides could produce during that
bloody battle nearly eight years ago. Rina had said the Amadis only
fight when necessary. But why wouldn’t the Daemoni be instigating
something with them? Were even they able to control themselves when
so immersed in the human world? Or did they have no reason to
fight? No orders to attack?
    Why should we attack when you are so close to
coming to us on your own? You’ll soon realize exactly where you
belong.
    I stiffened in the bar stool. That voice
again. The internal voice that was mine, but not mine. The voice of
Evil Alexis that scared the shit out of me.
    I ordered another drink. Then another one. I
hoped to drown the voice away, along with all my other thoughts.
I’d never been truly drunk before. I’d been buzzed, but never
falling-down, blacking-out drunk. Why not now? I had protectors to
ensure nothing bad happened, so why not allow myself that numbness?
After three drinks, which should have inebriated me, I felt little
effect. Probably overpriced, watered-down drinks the bartender
served. In fact, Owen had probably slipped him a
larger-than-necessary tip to make my drinks weak. I gave up and
headed back to my room, feeling a little defeated because I could
never truly run away. At least Owen and the others didn’t bother
me, for which I felt grateful.
    The front room of the suite contained a
sitting area with a couch, chair and walnut armoire, which housed a
flat-screen television. A desk sat by one of the windows, with a
view of a small courtyard two stories below. A tall, walnut
sleigh-bed and another armoire with a second flat-screen furnished
the bedroom, the bed made with luxurious linens and a fluffy duvet.
The marble-and-walnut bathroom contained boutique-brand toiletries.
The hotel was the epitome of luxury. It should have been, for the
rate I paid. This would have been a nice place for a vacation…like
a honeymoon. But not better than where mine had been. The place I
would have to face tomorrow.
    As comfortable as the bed looked, I knew the
threat of nightmares—more replays of that video—wouldn’t allow me
to sleep. So I sat down