straight hair the same shade of blond as Owen’s and eyes the same sapphire blue, the resemblance was obvious.
“I know I’m breaking protocol, but I couldn’t wait a minute longer to see you or to meet Alexis,” she said, already advancing on me. She didn’t wait for introductions. “Ah, yes, you are as beautiful as I’ve heard. Hello, Alexis, I am Charlotte Allbright.”
It took me a moment to recover from her straightforwardness. “Uh, nice to meet you, Ms. Allbright.”
She laughed. “You can call me Charlotte or Char.”
“Or Charred or Charcoal,” Mom said.
“You’ll never let me live that one down, will you?” Charlotte gave Mom a mischievous smile at some private joke.
“Alexis, this is Owen’s mother, as you’ve figured out,” Mom said. “And, I have to admit, a long-time friend of mine.”
“I apologize for my son’s irresponsibility while he was supposed to be protecting you. Sometimes I wonder why Sophia insists on him having the job. He should really—”
“Oh, no, please don’t blame him,” I quickly interrupted. “That was totally my fault. Owen’s great at his job—when I let him do it.”
Charlotte eyed me. “Hmm . . . well, I suppose I can understand, if you’re anything like your mother.”
“Worse,” Mom muttered. I tilted my head in question. “Charlotte has been my protector from time to time, and she thinks I’m hard-headed and rebellious.”
“Of course you are! I wouldn’t love you if you weren’t,” Charlotte said with a laugh.
Mom shrugged. “So maybe I am.”
“You think I’m hard-headed and rebellious, worse than you?” I wasn’t sure what I thought about that.
“Of course you are. And I wouldn’t love you if you weren’t,” Tristan said from behind me as he placed his hands on my hips. Mom and Charlotte chuckled.
“Alexis, we will have our hands full with you,” Mom said.
I frowned. Charlotte placed her hands on each side of my face and looked me directly in the eye, an impish gleam in hers.
“These are admirable traits, Alexis. There are dark days ahead, and we’ll need your spunk and spirit. Martin says we all need to be prepared, especially you.” With that cryptic message—there was that name Martin again—she planted a kiss on my forehead. What did she mean by dark days ahead? And why especially me? I didn’t get a chance to ask as she turned away. “I suppose I should let Owen kick me out. I’ll see you soon. We have some catching up to do, Sophia.”
Charlotte held her arm out to Owen, and he took her elbow, pretending to forcefully escort her out of the room. She hooked her boot around the door, pulling it shut behind them.
“She’s a handful herself,” I muttered, and her laugh echoed from another part of the building.
Mom laughed, too. “Yes, she is. But she’s a great friend to me, a powerful warlock, and an excellent addition to the council.”
“She’s on the council?” I asked. She acted as though she hadn’t seen Mom for a long time, but Mom had been at the island for nearly a week. She and Rina returned before us so they could debrief the council on the recent events in the Florida Keys—my Ang’dora, Tristan’s escape, the Daemoni’s attack . . . and everything else.
“She is now. Martin, her husband, took Stefan’s place, but Char is a new addition. She’s been fighting in the Middle East and returned last night,” Mom explained. “Rina will swear her in this morning.”
So Martin was Char’s husband and Owen’s dad, and their family was apparently close to ours. Which made everything I’d already “heard” today much more confusing. This meeting may or may not be a farce, but it seemed as though it would certainly be intense, just as Tristan had predicted. I pressed my hands against my stomach, which twisted and turned with anxiety over Rina’s request.
“We’re ready to begin,” announced a low, booming voice.
Solomon stood at the door, beckoning all of us. I tried not to stare at him, but it was nearly impossible. After all, he was a real, live (or real, dead?) vampire. Now that I knew what to watch for, I realized he did look like a vamp, something I hadn’t noticed the other times I’d seen him. His complexion was an exotic ash color—the vampire paleness of someone who’d originally been dark-skinned. His features were broad and beautiful, his hair in cornrows, the front pulled back into a ponytail, and he had an accent I was sure originated somewhere in the Caribbean. He smiled at us, and his fangs