Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan

by Jordan Summers

  “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.r />
  “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.”

  “Dead or alive, I can smell my own kind,” Tristan said. “Now where did you get it, Everly Watts?”

  Everly crossed her arms and sat back. “I didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Tristan scooted forward. He had wondered if she had, but wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t. Female hunters weren’t common, but they did exist. The east coast Alpha, Damon Laroche, had mated with one such woman.

  “Then who did?” he asked. Tristan would hunt them down once he eliminated the Darkling threat.

  Everly scoffed. “I’m not about to tell you that. You’d kill them,” she said.

  “Yes, I would.” Tristan smiled, showing more teeth than necessary. That was his job, and he was very good at it.

  Isabel stared at Everly. “You knew the skull came from one of them, and you kept it anyway? Are you nuts?”

  “Not crazy,” Tristan said, answering for her. “But not particularly bright, since my kind can smell their own.”

  Everly stiffened and glared at him. This time she didn’t look away until Isabel shook her. “You might’ve mentioned his resemblance to one of the Avengers.”

  “It wasn’t Loki, so I didn’t think it was important,” Izzy said.

  Everly laughed. “I see why you like him.”

  Isabel’s mouth dropped open. A plethora of emotions rushed across her face. “I don’t like him. Why would you say that? He’s a monster.”

  Tristan tensed. Humans had called him many things over the years. Nothing really fazed him anymore—or so he thought. She’s human. She means nothing to me, he reminded himself.

  Her cheeks reddened. “No offense,” Isabel added hastily.

  “None taken,” Tristan said nonchalantly, ignoring the churning in his gut. “Your friend was about to tell me where she got the skull.”

  “No, she wasn’t,” Everly said. “So drop it.”

  He surged forward. “If there
is someone out there hunting Moonlight Kin, then I need to know about it.”

  “Hunting what?” Isabel asked.

  “That’s what they call themselves,” Everly said. “I thought you knew.”

  “Of course.” It was obvious she hadn’t.

  Tristan was within striking distance. He didn’t make a habit of attacking women. In fact, he avoided it whenever possible. But his loyalty was to his people, not to humans. This woman needed to be reminded of the fact.

  “I’m only going to ask nicely one last time,” Tristan said. “Where did you get the skull?”

  Everly glowered. “It was a gift.”

  “For what purpose?” he asked. Getting her to respond was like pulling teeth from a mule.

  She thought about the question for a moment. No doubt trying to decide whether to lie. It would do her no good. He’d scent a lie immediately.

  Everly sighed. “I use it to detect your presence,” she said.

  Tristan’s nostrils flared. That was not what he’d expected her to say. Such a thing shouldn’t be possible, but the ramifications of the admission were not lost on him. This woman was more dangerous than he first thought.

  Somehow she’d turned a Moonlight Kin skull into a tracking device. If the Hunters learned about it, about her, they’d go to great lengths to get their hands on her. What if she’d already shared the knowledge? He needed to find out.

  “How have you used this knowledge?” If she said that she gave the information to the Hunters, then Tristan was going to have to kill her or have the local Alpha take care of the job.

  He glanced at Isabel. She would never forgive him if he murdered her friend, but what choice did he have?

  “The skull is for personal use,” Everly said. “I do not share what I know. It helps me avoid your kind.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Isabel asked, sounding hurt. “I could’ve used one of those myself.”

  “And exactly how did you plan to get one?” Tristan asked. Had he completely misjudged her? Was she talking about killing, too?

  Isabel rolled her eyes. “I’ll start by melting ice.”

  Tristan gave her a droll look and shook his head. He should’ve known.