Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan (5 page)

“Well hello there.” She grinned and didn’t
even pretend not to stare at his bare backside.

Tristan knew the kind of effect he had on
human females. He pictured Isabel’s sour expression. Correction,
most human females. He was proud of his form—both of them. He saw
no reason to rush covering himself.

“Good morning,” he said, slowly stepping into
the sweats. They were tighter than he would’ve liked, but better
than nothing.

Her smile widened. “I think I liked you
better without them, but I suppose you can’t run around here naked.
You’ll cause a riot.” The woman winked.

Tristan grinned at her. “We wouldn’t want
that,” he said. “Mind if I keep these for a while?”

She chuckled. “Darlin’, you can keep them as
long as you like, if you promise to come back and model them
sometime.”

He ran a hand over his bare chest, lingering
on his washboard abs.

She giggled louder.

“I just might have to do that when I’m
finished with my business in town,” Tristan said, making sure to
stroke her arm as he brushed past her.

The woman played at fanning her face.
“Ew-wee, is it hot out here.”

Tristan chuckled. His smile faded the second
he turned his back on the woman. He strode across the lawn to the
rear door and opened it. He heard shouting coming from down the
hall and instantly recognized the voice.

“Help!” Isabel said. “Somebody help me!”

The back door slammed behind him as Tristan
rushed down the hall. He reached the last door on the right and
kicked it in. The door cracked as it came off its wood frame and
fell into the room.

Isabel screamed.

Tristan shoved it aside and ducked beneath
the doorframe, expecting to see the Darkling. He crouched low,
ready to fight. His gaze darted around the small space in search of
the enemy, but there was none.

The only people there were Isabel and an
unconscious woman. He looked at her in confusion. Isabel clutched
her chest and breathed hard while she hovered over the small
female.

“What are you doing?” she shouted. “Are you
insane?”

He’d come in to save her, but it was obvious
now that she didn’t need saving. Tristan ignored the fear that had
been pumping through him. When she’d screamed, he’d thought... It
didn’t matter what he’d thought. He’d been wrong.

He took in the situation with one glance then
asked, “What happened?”

Isabel glared at him.

“I cannot help you if you do not tell me
what’s going on.” Tristan drew closer to get a better look but
didn’t see any obvious injuries. “Is she hurt?”

He extended his hand to check the woman’s
temperature, since he couldn’t smell anything due to the stench
coming from the incense.

“I thought she was seizing, but now I’m sure
she’s having a vision,” Isabel said.

Tristan jerked his hand back before he
touched her. “What kind of vision?”

“Sugar plums and fairies,” Isabel retorted.
“You know, the usual.”

He frowned in confusion.

Her expression soured, and she sighed.
“Visions of any kind are rarely good. It’s always about the
future.”

Tristan took a step back. He’d never been
around anyone like this and had never experienced a Sighted-One in
action firsthand. Something about the whole thing seemed
unnatural
.

“What’s the matter with you?” Isabel
asked.

“Nothing,” he said.

“Then why are you freaked out?” she asked.
“It’s not like a cold. You can’t catch a vision.”

Tristan stiffened. “I cannot catch human
diseases or illnesses,” he said. “My kind is immune.”

“Lucky you,” she said.

His mood darkened. He’d come in here
expecting to find danger, not a pissed-off woman and her
unconscious friend. Tristan was used to action, not waiting
around.

“What do you want me to do?” He needed to do
something. Boil water. Fetch blankets. Run to the convenience
store. Anything.

Isabel huffed. “Since you’re here, you can
help me get her on the couch.” She didn’t sound happy.

He picked up the tiny female.

“Be careful,” she warned.

He scowled at her. “I am.” Tristan gently
laid her on the couch.

Isabel followed on his heels, keeping a close
eye on him.

“What now?” Tristan asked.

“Now, we wait,” she said.

Tristan hated waiting. He’d never been good
at it, unless he was hunting.

Isabel took a seat beside her friend.

He either had to stand or... He glanced at
the beanbag. Not happening. It was either that or the floor.
Tristan straightened the door then jammed it in place. He glared at
the beanbag, then with a long suffering sigh, sat. The bag deflated
under his weight.

* * * * *

Izzy had nearly had a coronary when Tristan
kicked the door in. The only thing that prevented it was her
concern for Everly.

How had he found her so quickly? She’d
thought for sure it would take him at least a couple days, and by
then she’d be long gone.

Izzy glanced at him, trying to ignore the
display of muscles that rippled every time he shifted his big frame
on the bag to get comfortable.

If the situation weren’t so serious, it would
be comical.

Where was his shirt? And where did he get
those sweats?

Heaven help her, they didn’t leave much to
the imagination. He caught her watching him. His expression said he
knew exactly what she’d been thinking.

Izzy blushed and glanced away. She didn’t
like how off balance he made her feel. One minute she was attracted
to him, the next she wanted to punch him in the face.

She didn’t think Tristan was doing it on
purpose. After all, he couldn’t help how he looked, but she had no
doubt he’d use his appearance to his advantage if it meant getting
what he wanted.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I would think that would be obvious,” he
said.

Izzy brushed the hair back from Everly’s
face. Her friend didn’t seem to notice. “I told you, I’m not going
with you.”

“I’m afraid things have changed,” he
said.

“Really?” she asked. “You mean in the last
eight hours?”

Tristan nodded. “Yes.”

“Listen.” Izzy forced herself to face him.
“I’m sure you mean well in your own weird way.” She had no idea if
that was the truth or not, but Izzy thought it best that he think
so. “But I’d rather be on my own.”

His cool gaze moved past her to settle on
Everly. “Then why are you here?”

Izzy thrust her chin out. “My place was
getting crowded. I needed somewhere to stay,” she said pointedly.
“I also came here to warn my friend.”

A pale brow arched. “About what?” he asked,
all but daring her to admit the truth.

Izzy snorted. “I would think that would be
obvious,” she said, parroting his words back at him.

Tristan glared at her then slowly glanced
around the room. His eyes widened when his gaze landed on the
skulls. He struggled to his feet and walked over to examine them
closer. Tristan lingered over the one that looked real near the
altar.

“Where did she get this?” he asked, his voice
low and menacing.

“No idea,” Izzy said. “You’ll have to ask her
when she wakes up.”

He continued to explore the items in the
room. “What is all this?”

Izzy shrugged. “It’s Everly’s
collection
. She likes dark things.”

He studied her friend with new intensity.

Izzy didn’t like how Tristan looked at her.
“She’s defenseless,” she snapped, moving her body in front of her
friend.

Tristan balked. “You both are,” he said. “You
just don’t realize it yet.”

Everly groaned, and her eyelashes fluttered.
Then she suddenly bolted upright and started to speak.

Darkness comes on silent feet. Only the
light can open the door.

“What is she talking about?” Tristan asked,
putting down the skull in his hand.

Izzy shook her head. “I don’t know.” She
waved her fingers in front of Everly’s face, but her friend didn’t
blink. “Whatever it is, it’s part of her vision.”

Two from different worlds will join as one.
Bodies intertwined.

Izzy’s eyes widened. She glanced at Tristan
in time to see his lips flatten into a straight line. He looked
about as happy as she felt. Surely, Everly wasn’t talking
about...about...sex. Was she?

“Visions can mean almost anything,” Izzy
said. “They aren’t necessarily literal.” She wasn’t sure whom she
was trying to convince, Tristan or herself.

As she stared at him, Tristan’s mercury gaze
shifted to hers. He looked straight into her soul. A shiver spread
through her, and she broke eye contact.

There was no way she’d sleep with a monster.
Not even a pretty one that resembled a Norse god. Not going to
happen.

Trust as one you must to break the spell of
darkness. For the door is open and cannot be closed until the
Sighted-One crosses over, and the dead will rise to join her.

Izzy felt her face pale. That didn’t sound
good. Where was the door that Everly was talking about? Was it
physical or metaphorical? And what would happen once Izzy got to
the other side? It was one thing to see and communicate with
Spirit. Quite another to make the dead rise.

Everly groaned and dropped back onto the
couch. A moment later, her eyes fluttered opened and awareness
returned.

“Hey,” Izzy said. “You okay?”

Tristan stepped back and leaned against the
wall.

Everly touched her head and winced. “I think
so. How long was I out?”

“Long enough to scare the crap out of me,”
Izzy said. “I almost called an ambulance.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Everly said. “They
would’ve locked me up in a padded room. Help me sit up.”

Izzy grabbed her hand and helped her swing
her legs over the edge of the couch.

The second Everly caught sight of Tristan,
her charcoal- lined eyes widened. “It’s you,” she said. “You were
in my vision.”

Tristan tensed, then pushed away from the
wall and slowly walked toward them.

Everly straightened and stared directly at
him.

A growl rumbled from his chest as their gazes
met and clashed.

Izzy jumped, but Everly didn’t even
flinch.

“Knock it off, Snowman,” Izzy said, not
feeling nearly as brave as she pretended.

Tristan’s jaw clenched, but he stopped
posturing and took a seat once more.

* * * * *

The dark-haired woman should be terrified of
him, but Tristan sensed no fear. She’d said she knew him from her
vision. He wondered what exactly she’d seen. He didn’t like being
left out of the loop.

Tristan didn’t know what to make of Isabel’s
tiny friend, but he did know one thing—there was no way in hades
that he and Isabel were going to be lovers. He didn’t sleep with
humans. Ever! Tristan was an aggressive lover, and they were too
breakable.
They also carried inferior genes compared to the
Moonlight Kin.

Of course, one look at Isabel’s horrified
expression and Tristan knew that wasn’t something he’d ever have to
worry about.

Good
, he thought.
That made two of
them.

Isabel glanced at him then back to Everly.
“What did you see?” she asked in a low voice.

Everly continued to stare at him. Then she
slowly met her friend’s startled gaze. “He can hear every word you
say. Doesn’t matter if you whisper. Does it?” she asked him.

Tristan stared at her. “No.”

“Did you see our deaths?” Isabel asked and
swallowed hard.

Everly bit her lip, and her brow furrowed.
“Not the kind you’re talking about.”

Isabel frowned in confusion. “What other
kinds of deaths are there?”

“There’s true death, then there’s everything
else,” Everly said.

Tristan inhaled. The truth...and a lie. What
wasn’t she telling them?

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Isabel
asked. “You’re acting weird, and for you that’s saying
something.”

Everly’s gaze slipped back to Tristan.
“You’re not what I imagined. In my vision you were...
taller
.”

He crossed his long legs. “I am six foot
five,” he said.

She wasn’t at all what he’d anticipated
either. Something about the dark little imp made him decidedly
uncomfortable. Her brown eyes held humor and knowledge. Tristan
dismissed the humor, but he wanted the knowledge she hid.

There was more to Isabel’s friend than she
revealed, but Tristan didn’t have time to uncover all her secrets.
Right now, he only needed to know the answer to one.

“Introduce me,” she said to Isabel, before he
asked.

“You don’t want to meet him,” she said. “It’s
better if you don’t know him.”

Everly glanced at her. “Yes, I do. Especially
now.”

Isabel looked as if she were about to argue,
until Everly clutched her temple again. “Fine,” she said. “Everly
Watts, this is Tristan Chevalier, but everyone calls him
Frosty.”

“Not everyone,” he said through gritted
teeth. Only Isabel would dare to do such a thing. He would allow no
other the luxury.

Everly nodded but didn’t hold out her
hand.

Smart woman. Or was she simply afraid to
touch him? Humans had odd ideas about his kind. Most worked in
Moonlight Kin favor, but some showed nothing but ignorance. Tristan
didn’t think this woman was stupid. Quite the opposite. Her scent
told him that she wasn’t afraid.

“So where do you want to take my friend?”
Everly asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“That’s not your concern,” he said. “Where’d
you get the wolf skull?”

“That’s not a wolf,” Isabel said. “It’s
human.”

“Correction,” Tristan said. “He was in human
form
when he died, but he was not human.”

Isabel studied the skull. “How can you tell?
It looks just like the others.”