Authors: Kristie Cook
Tags: #alexis ames, #amadis, #angels and demons, #contemporary fantasy adult, #daemoni, #fantasy adult, #kristie cook, #paranormal, #paranormal adult, #paranormal romance, #promise, #tristan knight, #urban fantasy, #urban fantasy adult, #urban fantasy romance
"Oh! Oh, oh,
oh
!" The coffee pot shook
in my hand and then I felt it slide through my fingers, but I was
in too much shock to do anything but watch it fall. Just before it
hit the floor, Tristan's hand darted down and caught it. I jumped
back several feet. "Oh, holy
crap
! You
are
a
vampire!"
He looked at me and something flickered in
his eyes.
"Alexis," he said as he set the pot on the
counter, "don't be absurd."
"
Absurd?!
" I shrieked, backing away
from him. "I
know
vampires. I read and watch and research
and write about them all the time. And you have all the
characteristics! Well, except the pale skin. And you can go out in
the sun. And you don't have fangs or anything. But maybe those are
just myths…."
"Alexis, are you
listening
to
yourself?"
I stopped and stared at him. And then I
realized what I said and knew he was right. It was quite absurd.
But the whole night was completely absurd.
"Are you listening to
your
self?" I
shot back. "All night long…all these things about you…. Or are you
making them up, still thinking I have some fantasy to be
with
a vampire?"
He chuckled. "I promise you, that's not what
I'm doing. Please stop thinking such nonsense."
"Well…" Frustration overwhelmed me. "I'm
sorry! But this night is completely crazy! What with almost being
killed and
you
and everything else…I mean, I'm totally
freaked out! At this point, I'm not sure what to believe!"
"Do you know how you
weren't
killed?"
he asked calmly.
"Yeah, I know…you yanked us off the ladders.
That doesn't mean anything. If vampires really exist…well, if you
are
one, then I know you'd be a
good
one."
"I didn't
yank
you off the ladders.
Not the way you're thinking, anyway. Last I checked, vampires
couldn't do this." He flicked his hand and somehow I flew the eight
or so feet between us and was suddenly in Tristan's arms. My breath
caught and my heart stopped beating. "
That's
how you and
Sophia didn't end up under the car."
"How…did you…
do
that?" I croaked.
"It's a special…ability," he said
quietly.
"Don't let go of me," I whispered, "or I
might pass out."
"Don't worry," he murmured, his lips right
against my ear. "I like you right where you are."
"You're really not a vampire?" I asked, still
whispering.
"Absolutely not. I'm
much
more
dangerous." He lowered his mouth against my neck and sucked
lightly. "But I can pretend to be one, if you ever want me to."
"Tristan…"
"Sorry. But you do taste quite delicious." He
sucked again.
"
Tristan
." I squirmed out of his arms.
"You're distracting me."
"Good." He grinned. I rolled my eyes. "Then
what would
you
like to do while we wait for Sophia?"
I returned to making the coffee, filling the
pot with water.
"Tell me more, what you
can
tell me.
Are you really that…
old
?"
The smile disappeared and he didn't answer
for several moments. "Yes, I am. But, like I said, I prefer not to
think about it like that. You'll understand—I hope, anyway—by the
time the night is over."
I could tell there was something ominous
coming later. I hated having to wait for it, but I wanted complete
answers, which I wouldn't get without Mom.
"Okay, then…" I poured the water into the
coffee maker and turned it on while trying to think of a different
subject. "So, uh…if you went to med school, how come you're not a
doctor? Oh, wait. You probably are, aren't you?"
He shook his head. "No, I could never
complete the program, since I didn't age through it."
I could actually understand that. "Oh, yeah,
right. Mom's had similar…problems."
He looked at me for a long moment and then
took my hands into his and gently pulled me closer to him. "Alexis,
you're going to find out some things about me…about my past…that
you won't like. It may be enough to make you detest me and never
want to see me again."
I shook my head. "I highly doubt that."
"Don't decide yet. Hear it all out. But I
need to tell you something, in case this is my last chance." He
cupped his hands on each side of my face, holding me there so he
could gaze directly into my eyes. "Alexis…you are my soul mate.
I've loved you since the day you first sat next to me in that
women's studies class. I didn't know it then, but I can't deny it
now. Now that you're going to find out who I really am, you'll
understand how incredibly amazing, but so unexpected this is. I
didn't even know I
could
love anyone. But…I love
you
,
ma lykita
."
I stared back into his eyes and, although I
knew he wasn't who I thought he was—not
normal
, in other
words—I still felt what I felt. So when he pressed his mouth
against mine, I happily kissed him back. As he continued to kiss
me, his hands slowly slid down my neck, over my shoulders and down
my arms. I cringed as sharp pains shot through my forearms at his
touch.
He abruptly pulled back and lifted my wrists
in each of his hands, studying my arms.
"Ah, shit," he muttered.
I looked down to see what caught his
attention. Two bumps on my left forearm and three more on my right,
bigger than large mosquito bites, swelled under my skin. "What are
they?"
"Glass. You healed with pieces of glass still
in the wounds."
"What?" I knew he spoke real words, but I
couldn't grasp the meaning. It just wasn't registering.
"Alexis…your skin grew around them."
I stared at my arms.
That's a new one.
I'd never thought of it being an issue before and now that I
did—imagining the glass embedded under my skin—my stomach
clenched.
"
Ew
," I breathed, totally incapable of
saying anything else, not able to take my eyes off the lumps in my
skin.
"Where does Sophia keep her medical kit?"
Tristan asked. He started throwing open and banging closed the
kitchen cabinet doors.
"Um…in her bathroom, I think. Why?"
He took my hand and pulled me toward the
hallway and Mom's bedroom.
"I need to see if she has a scalpel in
there."
"
What?
" I stopped as if I'd run into
an invisible brick wall, yanking him to a halt.
"We need to get the glass out, while they're
still close to the surface."
I gulped.
"You have to
cut
them out?" I looked
at the lumps on my arms, imagining the cutting and digging. My head
became light and woozy as the blood drained to my feet.
"You're turning green," he said, wrapping his
arm around my waist. "You okay?"
"Um…
no
!" Sweat beads popped out on my
forehead.
Mom came through the front door just then,
quickly shutting and locking it behind her. She gave us a strange
look as we just stood there in the hallway.
"Honey, are you okay?" she asked, concern
quickly filling her eyes. "You're green."
I lifted my arms for her to see. I could tell
she knew immediately what was wrong—her whole body seemed to sink
in defeat.
"Can this night get any worse?" she
muttered.
"Tristan says we have to cut them out?" I
made it a question, really hoping she had a better idea.
She quickly regained her composure and
started barking orders. "Tristan, get some old towels from the
broom closet. I'll get my kit. You, Alexis, just sit and put your
head between your legs. You really don't look so good."
Within a few minutes, my desk lamp was set up
on the kitchen table, the bright light glinting off a scalpel,
tweezers, a needle and syringe and a small glass bottle. Mom sat
down on my right side, taking my hand to stretch my arm across a
folded towel for padding.
"Uh…maybe Tristan should do it," I said
apprehensively. "I mean, he did go to medical school and all."
Mom glanced up at Tristan, who still stood
beside me.
"Yeah, there's been a lot that's come out
already," he admitted. "But I think you'd better do this. Your
hands are smaller."
He gave her a quick run-down of what I
already knew as he sat in the chair to my left and took my free
hand into his.
"Don't worry, Alexis, I know what I'm doing,
too," Mom said. She slid the needle into the rubber top of the
bottle and filled the syringe with a clear liquid. "I used to be a
nurse, after all."
"Seriously?" I asked. "I never knew
that."
"Actually, that's how I first met Tristan.
During the Second World War—"
"
The Second World War
?" I flinched
more from surprise at what she said than from the needle she just
stuck into my arm. "That was, what, the nineteen-forties?
But…you're only forty-three. You weren't even born yet!"
"Yes, well, that was easier for you to
understand, when you did the math. But I'm
actually…a-hundred-and-sixteen."
"
What?
" I stared at her in shock and a
hysteric laugh burst out.
They're both so old!
"But…
how
? Will I be like that, too?"
"I can't answer the first one and yes to the
second." She stood up and poured us all a cup of coffee as I tried
to absorb that, but I couldn't.
I'm going to live that
long…or
longer
?
I looked at Tristan and he squeezed my
hand.
"Think your mom's a vampire, too? Or you, for
that matter?" he asked with a small smile.
"Vampires? Ha! If it was so simple," Mom
said, bringing our coffee cups over to the table. She sat back down
and we sipped our coffee for a few moments, waiting for the
anesthetic to take effect. She pressed her fingers in several
places along my forearm.
"Can you feel that?"
"No." I really didn't know if it was from the
anesthetic or if I numbed all over from renewed shock.
She picked up the scalpel and I must have
turned green again.
"You probably shouldn't watch," she said.
I lay my head against the table, looking
away, toward Tristan. He brushed my hair back and stroked my cheek.
I felt pressure on my arm, but no pain. I concentrated on Tristan's
face, trying hard not to visualize what I felt.
"So…to start at the beginning," Mom said as
she worked, "we—me, you, our family—are a part of the
Amadis
. The best I can explain it for now is the Amadis is
like a society or culture. Our family is the original Amadis, but
others have joined us."
"Like a cult?" I asked, looking up in
surprise.
Mom shook her head. "No, not a cult. It's the
society or civilization for…people like us."
"There are other people like
us
?"
"Not exactly like us…but they're not like
normal people either. That's all I can say for now." She picked up
the tweezers, about to poke them into the hole in my arm. I lay my
head back down.
"So our family started this uh-MOD-eez"—I
sounded out the foreign word—"but others have joined it?"
"Right. Others who are sort of like us and
want to live like us—for good, not evil. So, the Amadis, our
family, and Tristan's…"
She hesitated, like she didn't know what to
call Tristan's relatives.
"Creators," he filled in for her, his voice
hard. "I'm telling everything about me, so let's just get it out
there. I was technically born, but those were not anything I would
call parents. It's more accurate to say I was created. Genetically
designed…to be the ultimate warrior."
Chapter
11
Genetically designed? The ultimate
warrior?
I wanted to laugh—it sounded ludicrous—but Tristan's
face was completely serious.
"The ultimate warrior for the
Daemoni
," Mom said, disgust filling that last word, and I
knew this was no joke. "The Amadis and the Daemoni are, well, we'll
just say innate enemies. You'll have to wait for the story behind
it, but you can understand I mean much more than rivals or feuding
families. Our very kinds are, by nature, opposites."
"Our
kinds
? What does
that
mean?"
The tugging sensation in my arm stopped as
Mom sighed in frustration. "Honey, you just have to accept some
things as just the way they are without further explanation. Yes,
our
kinds
, as in our kinds of species."
My head shot up again. "
Species
? We're
not even
human
?! What the hell are we, aliens?"
To my complete bewilderment, both Mom and
Tristan chuckled.
"We're human…sort of…," Mom said, "…just
different than everyone else, which you already knew. And that's
all I can say. Besides,
you're
still very much human and you
will be for a long time."
Of course. The Ang'dora.
So the
Ang'dora
would make me less human…and more like Mom. She
didn't seem like a different
species,
though.
"Mom, you can't say things like that and not
explain."
She studied my face for a moment. "I'm sorry.
I know it's not fair, but I'm not allowed to go into it. This is
about Tristan, not us. I can only tell you what you need to know to
understand him."
"But you're saying he's a different
kind
than us! How am I supposed to understand?"
"I'm not, really, a different kind, I mean,"
Tristan said. "Just be patient. You'll understand soon."
My eyes bounced between the two of them.
Tristan looked apologetic—like he understood my frustration and
wanted to tell me more. But Mom's face was set firmly. She wouldn't
budge.
"Okay, fine," I sighed. "So our family—"