Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan (18 page)

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Authors: Jordan Summers

Tags: #new orleans, #paranormal romance, #wolves, #supernatural, #werewolves, #law enforcement, #contemporary fantasy, #fairytales, #legends myths, #legends and folklore

BOOK: Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan
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She looked at the decrepit neighborhood. It
was almost dark. At first glance, it appeared abandoned, but that
didn’t mean there weren’t gangs roaming around the area. And
apparently alligators.

Stone waited for her next to the door.

Tonight, she was all out of options. Izzy
hoisted her tote higher onto her shoulder and walked to the house.
Stone stepped inside before she reached the porch and dropped his
bag next to the door. He walked into the kitchen when Izzy reached
the doorway.

The feminine touches on the outside carried
on in the interior. Pink and lavender filled the small space, from
the frilly curtains to the lace tablecloth. Photos of a blond woman
and a fair-haired, freckle-faced little girl covered the walls.

Izzy walked over to one of the photos to take
a closer look. “Who are they?” she asked.

Stone glanced at the photo. “My sister and
her kid,” he said.

“Really?” Izzy asked.

Both of the females had fair hair and blue
eyes. Their features were soft, almost delicate. Stone had dark
hair and amber eyes. Nothing about him gave Izzy the impression of
soft.

“Yes,” he said. “Your room is at the end of
the hall on the left.” Stone pointed down the only hall in the
house.

“Thanks,” Izzy said. She glanced one last
time at the picture then walked down the hall. The home only had
two bedrooms and a bath. She wondered where Stone’s sister and her
daughter were. Would they be coming back soon?

The thought of involving a child in this mess
didn’t sit well with Izzy. It was dangerous enough as an adult. She
opened the door on the left and stepped into...a child’s room.

The walls were a light pink like the curtains
framing the window. The bedspread on the twin bed held the latest
cartoon princess’s likeness. Next to the bed sat a small dresser
that doubled as a bedside table. On top of the dresser was a lamp
and another photo of the mother.

A small child-sized white desk was pushed
against the opposite wall. Beside it was a trunk. Izzy assumed it
was full of toys, since there wasn’t a single one on the floor.

She stepped inside, shut the door, and rested
her back against it. Izzy didn’t like taking a child’s room away
from her. She needed to find out when they’d return. As long as it
wasn’t tonight, it wouldn’t matter, because Izzy planned to be long
gone tomorrow.

Izzy unzipped her tote and took out a
wrinkled shirt to wear in the morning. Maybe if she hung it up
overnight, the wrinkles would release. She opened the closet to get
a hanger and found it bursting with clothes.

She shut the closet door and walked over to
the dresser. Izzy opened each drawer to check inside. The drawers
held socks, underwear, pajamas, everything a child would need on a
trip.

In the bottom drawer, she even found a
well-loved, stuffed brown bear. The kind of stuffed animal that a
child kept with them at all times. Maybe they were coming back
tonight after all.

Izzy closed the drawers and walked out the
bedroom. “Stone?”

“In here,” he said. Stone was bent over a pot
on the stove. The contents were bubbling and hissing from the high
heat.

Izzy couldn’t tell what he was cooking, but
it smelled funny. “Are your sister and niece coming back tonight?”
she asked.

He shook his head. “No, why do you ask?”
Stone picked up a spoon and stirred the contents of the pot. He
brought the spoon up to his mouth and licked it. His eyes closed in
ecstasy at the taste.

Izzy tried not to gag. “When do you expect
them back?”

Stone’s mouth tightened. “I don’t know. In a
few days,” he said. “We’ll be out of their hair by then, so stop
worrying.”

Their return wasn’t what worried Izzy. It was
the fact that it didn’t look as if they’d left.

“Do they have another house?” she asked. That
would explain not needing to pack.

“No,” Stone said. “Not that I know of.”

His response gave her pause. This was his
sister he was talking about. Surely he’d know if she owned more
than one property.

“Are you sure she doesn’t mind us staying
here?” Izzy asked.

Stone dropped the spoon into the pot. It hit
the liquid with a
kerplunk
and sent droplets onto the stove.
He turned to face her. “What’s this all about?” he asked. “If I
didn’t know better, I’d say you weren’t grateful that I rescued
you.”

“I—I am,” she stammered. “I mean, I do
appreciate it.”

He looked as if he didn’t believe her. “It’s
getting late. Unless you want something to eat, you should probably
get some rest,” he said.

Izzy smelled the food again. The odor seemed
even worse than before. “No thanks. I’m not very hungry.”

“Your loss,” Stone said, then took another
spoonful.

She had no intention of eating it, but she
was curious. “What is it?” she asked.

Stone grinned at her. “Game,” he said.

His response didn’t exactly narrow it down,
but it didn’t matter. “Enjoy,” Izzy said, then wandered back to the
little girl’s room.

Before she entered the room, Stone called her
name. Izzy turned to find him standing at the entrance of the hall.
“I’ll stand guard in case the monsters find us. If you need
anything, I’ll be right outside the door.”

Suddenly Izzy didn’t feel as if she’d been
rescued. She felt like a prisoner whose guard would be stationed at
her door. Izzy didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and stepped
into the room.

The second she was out of sight, Izzy opened
her mind to her gift. She needed to figure out what was happening.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Her gift flowed out of her
straight into something solid.

Izzy’s eyes flew open. Something was blocking
her, blocking it. Stone said he had the ability to block the
monsters and people like her, but Izzy had only wanted to check in
with the other side. She should’ve been able to get through to her
spirit guides. Weird...

Maybe she was just tired. It had been a long
evening, and she’d been through a lot. Izzy would try again later
once she’d gotten some sleep—if she managed to sleep at all.

 

* * * * *

 

Chapter
Thirteen

 

Tristan stepped out of the darkness. His
mercury eyes glowed silver as his gaze swept over her. He was naked
like the last time she’d seen him and gloriously aroused. Izzy
licked her lips and scooted across the bed to make room for
him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said. “I was
worried that you wouldn’t be.”

“You’ve been a bad girl, Isabel,” he
said.

“I’m sorry that I left you,” she murmured,
meaning it. “I was just freaked out after... I don’t expect you to
understand. We both knew sleeping together was a mistake.”

“You shouldn’t have run from me.” He stopped
next to the bed.

Izzy patted the bed beside her. “If I could
take it back, I would.”

He smiled, flashing long canines, and took a
seat. The bed dipped beneath his weight. “What am I going to do
with you?” he asked.

“You can start by holding me,” she said,
unable to meet his gaze.

“Is that what you truly want?” he asked.

“Yes.” Izzy nodded.

Tristan slid into bed beside her and pulled
Izzy into his arms. His strength made her feel safe. He ran his
hand down the side of her body and kissed her, lingering on her
lips until her toes tingled.

“Open for me,” he said as he pulled her under
him.

Izzy did as he asked. She was so grateful
that he was alive that she’d do anything to please him, even if
that meant feeling foolish in the morning.

Tristan climbed between her thighs.

Izzy grasped his shoulders as he nudged her
entrance.

She felt him swell even more. He’d done that
the last time they were together. At the time, Izzy had been too
far gone to take notice, but now she was fully aware.

“Is that normal?” she asked.

Tristan smiled. “For me it is.” His teeth
were even longer now and so sharp they could slice through
steel.

“Maybe we should talk first,” Izzy said. “I
need to explain.”

“A minute ago, you told me that you wanted
me,” Tristan said. “What’s the matter, Isabel? Change your mind
already?”

There was no warmth in his eyes when Izzy met
his gaze. Only the cold stare of a killer.

“You betrayed me, Isabel.” Blood began to
drip down Tristan’s face. “You left me to die,” he snarled.

“I’m sorry.” Tears welled in Izzy’s eyes as
blood hit her cheek. She tried to wipe it away, but there was too
much.

Blood covered Tristan’s white hair and
obscured his features. “Do you know what happens to people who
betray me and my kind?”

She shook her head.

His lip curled flashing his sharp teeth, then
Tristan attacked.

Izzy awoke screaming. Her limbs thrashed as
she struggled to get away. She reached for her throat, expecting to
find it torn open. It wasn’t. Her heart continued to thunder. She
scanned the darkness for Tristan, but nothing looked familiar. All
she knew for sure was that he was gone.

The door hit the wall, knocking a hole in the
plaster. The light from the hallway temporarily blinded her. Stone
rushed into the room, carrying a bunch of knives in his hand. By
the time Izzy was able to focus, the knives were gone.

“Are you okay?” he asked, frantically
searching the room.

“I’m fine,” she said, quickly wiping her
tears away. “I had a nightmare.”

“Is that why you shouted the monster’s name?”
he asked.

For a second Stone’s eyes glowed, but the
flash was there and gone so fast that Izzy couldn’t be sure her
sleep-fogged brain hadn’t invented the light.

She didn’t remember calling out Tristan’s
name, but she did remember the horrible dream. “Sorry I woke you,”
Izzy said.

“You didn’t,” Stone replied. “Want to talk
about it?”

She did, but not with him. Izzy plumped her
pillow. “I’m really tired. I think I want to try to go back to
sleep.”

Stone looked as if he wanted to argue.
“Sure,” he said instead. “See you in the morning.”

The moment he shut the door, Izzy curled into
a ball, and hugged herself. She should never have left Tristan. The
dream or vision proved it. Now more than ever she needed to know if
he was okay. There had to be some way she could find out. Izzy
couldn’t leave town until she did.

The dream had allowed her to admit a hard
truth. The feelings she had for Tristan weren’t going away. She’d
eventually have to face if she wanted to move on with her life.

In the dream, there’d been so much blood. He
had to be all right. “Please be all right,” she murmured.

“Izzy, did you say something?” Stone asked
from the other side of the closed door.

How had he heard her?

Izzy closed her eyes a second before the door
to her bedroom opened. She felt Stone’s gaze upon her. Izzy kept
her breathing even and didn’t move. Her pulse throbbed in her
throat, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. He stood
in the doorway for what felt like an eternity, before he eventually
closed the door.

It wasn’t until she heard the click that Izzy
released the breath she held.

 

* * * * *

 

Tristan groaned and rolled onto his back. He
came to with his head pounding and a vague memory of being attacked
by the Darkling. He tried to sit up and immediately fell back down.
What had the Darkling hit him with, a truck?

He opened his eyes, and the first thing
Tristan saw was Pierre’s face. The Alpha stood over him with a
concerned expression.


Mon ami
, I’m so glad you’re back with
us,” he said. “You had me worried.” Pierre held out his hand to
help Tristan up. “You look like hell, by the way.”

“Feel worse.” It was a testament to how bad
he felt that Tristan accepted the Alpha’s assistance. He glanced
around the cabin and noticed the darkness outside the window. How
long had he been out? “Where’s Isabel?” he croaked. The bed was
still in disarray from the earlier lovemaking, but her things were
gone.

Pierre’s expression suddenly blanked. “I am
sorry, my friend, but we haven’t been able to find her. There were
no signs of a struggle,” he said. “But my wolves will continue to
search.”

No signs of a struggle? That would mean that
Isabel had left voluntarily. Why would she do such a thing? Tristan
thought about how he’d behaved after they’d made love and had a
sinking feeling. The Darkling didn’t have to take Isabel. Tristan
had driven her away—straight into his enemy’s arms.

He swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
Its bitterness was nothing compared to the taste of shame. “The
Darkling has her.”

“Then why aren’t you dead?” Pierre asked.

“Good question.” Tristan had thought for sure
the creature was going to kill him. It had to have been Isabel who
saved him. It wasn’t in a Darkling’s nature to show mercy.

Pierre sniffed. “I don’t mean to point out
the obvious,” he said. “But why does the cabin smell like sex,
mon ami
?”

“I don’t have time for this crap,” Tristan
said.

Pierre grinned. “So you sleep with her. I
thought as much,” he said. “I just needed confirmation. Had it been
the Darkling, you wouldn’t be so defensive.”

Tristan froze. Until that moment, it hadn’t
even crossed his mind that the Darkling might take Isabel against
her will in that way. At least not until they’d crossed into his
realm. He pictured her horrorstruck face and felt his lungs squeeze
until he could barely breathe.

Not since he lost his brother had Tristan
experienced terror on this level. The unwelcome emotion drove home
just how much the little hoyden meant to him.

He rushed across the room and lifted the
sheets to his nose. The musky scent of well-loved woman filled his
lungs, along with the earthy aroma of Kin. The scent soothed his
beast for a moment, but Tristan knew the emotion wouldn’t last.

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