Sacred Blood

by Alys B. Cohen

  "I'll wait, Tristan. Whether it's three months or three years, I'll wait. I will, for you," she whispered. "And my promises are always good."

  "I'll let you finish in here. I also need to get my packing done." He pressed his lips to her palm before releasing it and getting up. At the door, he looked back at her. "I'll be waiting too. Je t'aime, ma Juliette." Then he was gone.

  * * *

  The sun touched the horizon, the last golden rays of day reflecting off foam-crested ripples. Several rogue surfers rose and fell with the waves. A couple strolled along the edge of the crashing water.

  "Tell me about your life. Your human one."

  Tristan sighed deeply. "Oh, that. Nothing exciting. I was born in my family’s chateau in Chamonix, France, and spent my childhood between there and our home in Paris. I had the typical spoiled rich boy's upbringing. Private tutors, not much time with our parents, rules up one side, running amok down the other. My governess, Millicent, was more mother to me than the one who gave birth to me. I only saw Maman, my mother, during viewing hours. Our relationship was formal. We children were something to observe. Papa was as involved as conventions allowed. Milli took care of us. When we were hurt or ill, she brought us what you would call coconut macaroons. The scent is still relaxing.”

  “Is that why you use things that smell like coconut?”

  Tristan shrugged. “Maybe. Yes. Anyway, Maman ran off to be with a Russian right before my 16th birthday. Napoleon was defeated. Russia had occupied the city. Papa fled with me, my brothers, and our sister to Chamonix in the eastern part of France, leaving Millicent behind."

  "What happened there? Was your dad a land baron or something?"

  He listened to the waves crash against the shore for a moment, remembering more clearly than he wanted to. "Peerages were unstable, and the existence of titles came and went. We arrived home in 1812, at the time without title, and we lived more than comfortably. Wealth bought prestige in a different way than today, especially older money, like ours. So after France had our city back, my family frequently traveled to Paris or other cities and passed Maman off as dead to avoid the scandal of abandonment. We attended many balls, considering what was going on politically. As the firstborn son, my marriage was a business arrangement. The parents of a young woman named Marguerite approached mon père."

  Juliette squeezed his hand hard. Tristan stared off over the ocean, losing himself in his memories. "Her family had the wealth and pedigree to make her a good match. She had been well educated, and would be able to run my household and bear my children. I would have gone off hunting and participating in other leisure sports."

  "Did you have children, Tristan?"

  "Oh no. We did not get as far as marriage, so we never consummated the relationship we did have. I was courteous to her during our early engagement, though not really kind. Women were second-class citizens, yet were expected to carry more than their weight in marriages. She begged to leave France for England after we had wed. I was furious that she wanted us to move away. As the man, I thought I knew better. After that, I hardly was cordial. Convinced she had betrayed me, merely for her fear of more political turmoil, I broke our engagement. The memory still shames me."

  She pressed her fingers into his palm. "Don’t blame yourself. Your society demanded things of you."

  Tristan stopped and turned her to face him, resting his hands on her shoulders. His accent had become heavy. "No, Juliette, I am responsible for my actions. I was too arrogant and conceited to even care if I hurt her. A well-known engagement being broken didn't bode well for a woman's future. Damaged goods, rejected. I ruined her for wanting to depart from an occupied country. The occupation ended quickly, but the damage had been done. She asked to leave France, and so I left her. Thirty days is all it took to destroy her life. We were engaged for thirty days."

  "You were a product of your time. I can’t see you hurting any--"

  "Juliette, please!" he begged. "Don't try to justify what I did. You wouldn't say slave-owners are excused because it’s ‘what was done at the time.’ Abolitionists in the states, here, stood and said slavery must end, and they risked their lives helping slaves get to the north. Nothing stopped me from standing against maltreatment of women except pure arrogance, the status quo too much in my favor. I was wrong. But I learned from my mistakes, Juliette, I swear I have."

  Juliette brushed a couple curls back that had fallen over Tristan's forehead in his desperate rant. "Tristan, I'm not going to hold your centuries-old bad actions against you, and I wish you wouldn't either. You aren’t the same person. Now you are a sweetheart of a man who means so much to me and happens to be a supernatural creature. How did you become one?"

  Salty sea air, crisp and clear, flowed around him. He rocked back and forth, closing his eyes. “A massive earthquake in Chamonix in 1817. Four people died, a lot for a small town. Sections of my family’s chateau were.... It took years to repair it all. One of our servants shoved me down the stairs and the wall came down on him instead. I found out later that one of us dying to save a human life transfers what we are to that person. It doesn’t make sense to any of us.”

  “How did you know what you had become?”

  “Hard to not figure out something has happened when you turn into an animal. A guardian upiór named Jane Underwood travels to search for anyone like us. She educated me, and put Gabrielle and me in contact. They helped me conceal myself until Papa had died and everything became mine. At last I could breathe and go on with life.”

  Juliette wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body into his. “I’m sorry you went through so much.”

  “I’m not.” Tristan rubbed her cheek with his nose. “If things hadn’t happened how they did, I wouldn’t be with you right now. You make everything worthwhile. Look behind you.”

  She turned and smiled just as the sun finished its descent. “A new night. I wish I could stand here for all of it, right here in your arms, but at 8 we're meeting the others at a restaurant down the main street, The Palms. Emma said that place serves raw meat. If you’d rather stay here though, we can."

  "They serve raw meat? To humans?"

  Tristan stared, trying to determine if she was jesting or serious.

  Juliette nodded. "She said it's a place where patrons cook their own meat over hot coals, and that the fried croutons are great too. You could have a chunk of raw cow and I could get something and cook it so it'll taste good and not give me worms."

  "Well, lucky for me, I don't get worms or salmonella or anything else that's food-borne."

  "Upiórs," Juliette giggled. "I'm still in disbelief over that one."

  "Yeah well, you'll get used to it, Mon Amour." Tristan chuckled, leading her back toward the small town's main road. “Now this raw meat place I have to see.”

  * * *

  Juliette lay awake late into the night. Her departing attire waited over the back of a chair next to a couple large knapsacks. Everything else was in totes downstairs, ready to go into storage. This house had come to feel like a home to her. She had a regretful longing for the bedroom she had yet to vacate. Once they had left, any time alone with Tristan would be rare. With so much unknown, she was frightened but comforted by the knowledge she'd be with those she trusted with her life.

  The wall clock tick-tocked a mechanical heartbeat. Her world closed in. The inability to predict what may happen in just a week filled her thoughts with emptiness. Her limbs grew cold with the settling of reality. Nothing seemed real anymore.

  Juliette tossed back the covers and set her feet on the padded carpeting. She buttoned her long nightgown to its top and shuffled toward the door, cursing the lack of moonlight and not wanting to turn on a bright lamp. She reached for the handle and pulled. A little light from downstairs filtered up to the landing. Without a second thought, she scurried to Tristan’s door and it opened and closed noiselessly.

  She took several steps in the direction of the bed until her knee hit the bed. Hoping
he wouldn't mind, she pulled back the blankets, surprised he slept in a full set of pajamas, even when alone. Juliette slid beneath the covers,and edged nearer to him, the heat of his body warming her. Her shiver woke him slightly.

  "Come here," he muttered, gathering her close to him. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m getting scared.”

  “Don’t be. I’ll keep you safe.” He kissed her forehead went back to sleep within a second.

  Juliette tucked her head beneath his chin, determined to memorize every scent and sensation of the moment. Under her hand, his chest rose with each breath. Her fingers curled into a fist, clutching the flannel of his top, the rest of her body tensing. Through pursed lips, she blew a few hard breaths until she relaxed. She pressed her palm flat over his heart.

  “You kept me safe from Nathaniel,” she said in a whisper. “It’s my turn now. If we come by him, I’ll protect you because I love you, Tristan. I love you with all my heart.”

  16. Travel

  Cool morning sunlight shined down, failing to warm the fountain. Juliette sat on the edge, licking the stickiness off her fingers from a donut she had finished. The gentle trickle of water made her want to crawl back into bed with Tristan. His relaxed smile upon waking had warmed her in a way the sun couldn't.

  Tristan and William tossed the few packed bags into the new black BMW SUV. Juliette’s bow, retrieved from the truck of Tristan’s Bentley, sat on the ground beside her feet, giving her security.

  Juliette shook her head at the figure she’d estimated for gas. She glanced down at her purse, cringing at the thick envelopes of cash Tristan had given her, one in US currency and one in Canadian. "Just in case," he'd said.

  She stared up at the facade of the building, a home to her for almost three months. Its cheerful yellow face masked the tension inside. Sunlight bounced off the smooth glass. A mild wind rustled the drying leaves on the bushes, contrasting with her sorrow.

  Most of the happiest moments of her life happened within those stucco walls, and as they set out, they had no idea to where they'd return or when. Juliette sensed drastic changes for all of them.

  The hatch of the vehicle slammed shut, disrupting her thoughts. "Are you about ready to go, Jules?" William asked her.

  "Yeah, I guess." She balled up her napkin. "Where am I sitting?"

  "Tristan's driving the first leg, so if you want to sit shotgun, it's all yours." Will picked up the case and smirked.

  She rolled her eyes. "You have nothing better to think about, do you?"

  “Well, close the door next time, Kid.”

  Emma bounced to the SUV and retied her lilac scarf. "Let's go! Hurry! Let's get on up to the bay!" She climbed into the back-most seat, and by Sunil joined her. Ash, next out of the house, sat next to them.

  Gabrielle followed Tristan and Jareth out and locked the house. "Stop up front so I can drop the keys off."

  Once they were buckled in and ready, Tristan put the vehicle in drive and led them away from their makeshift home. Juliette kept her eyes ahead. No one said a word. They all shared the trepidation in the enclosed space

  * * *

  The shortest leg of the drive helped calm Juliette’s nerves. The hairpin turns and necessary lower speed afforded them amazing views of foam-topped waves stretching as far as their eyes could see. On the horizon, the ocean and sky faded into each other, a smooth transition from salty water to blue atmosphere. Many sailboats were out in the sea, and the occasional school of dolphins' dorsal fins crested the waves. In too little time, they were pulling into the parking garage of their San Francisco hotel.

  Gabrielle led the way into the foyer, a brick-walled room with exposed wooden beams. Old ships’ steering wheels hung aside a compass-like clock over the fireplace.

  "Well this is…nautical," Jareth observed. "Pretty cool."

  "Good. I'm going to check us in. You all decide how to spend our time left tonight. Early start in the morning, so nothing that will keep us up late."

  Juliette reached for Tristan's hand and moved closer. "Any ideas?"

  "We should rest. Are you okay rooming with me?"

  Bashful, Juliette nodded and swallowed.

  "I wish we could go shopping." Emma swung her purse.

  Sunil grabbed his wife around her waist and dipped her for a kiss. "You are so one-dimensional sometimes, my dear. How about a museum? I think there's a wax one up the road and probably a fudge shop."

  Gabrielle returned and handed them their keys. Tristan accepted one and started down the hall.

  "One word, William…" Juliette threatened, as they passed him.

  "About what?" Emma eyes darted between them.

  William raised his face toward the ceiling and feigned innocent. "Oh, nothing except walking in on them starting to--"

  "William!" Tristan pointed a finger at him. “Knock it off.”

  Juliette pulled his hand. "Forget him. Let's go upstairs. This will be the last relaxing time we're going to have for a while."

  * * *

  Mile after endless mile passed in silence. Occasionally someone would speak a fact or tell a joke, but the drive was dull otherwise.

  Tristan adjusted his position, careful not to wake Juliette. He wished he could sleep so easily. The mountains as they crossed the border were hazy in the evening light. Hours of driving remained ahead of them until they reached their stopping point for the night. Gabrielle, riding in the front passenger seat, tried finding a radio station, but only static came from the speakers.

  "That exit--Ashland--isn't there a Shakespeare festival?" she quietly asked Jareth.

  "Used to be, but I'm sure it's still going on."

  "The numbered exits are so convenient. Much better than California’s names-only."

  "Which one do we need, Gab?"

  Gabrielle checked her phone’s navigation system. "191. Another 170 or so miles."

  “Why aren’t we using the GPS built into this vehicle?”

  “Too bright. Might wake up Juliette.”

  Ash nodded. "Jareth, let’s stop for a break at the next town with food signs. My ass is numb.”

  "So’s mine," Emma whined from the middle seat.

  Jareth pulled off in Medford and found a restaurant.

  Tristan gently shook Juliette. "Sweetheart, we're getting something to eat. Do you want to get out or use the bathroom?"

  "No," she moaned. "Let me sleep."

  Emma leaned over the seat back. "I'm on her side. This drive is boring. I can't believe we have three more days of small talk."

  The starry evening turned into night, another day, another evening, another night. Juliette leaned her head against the glass, waiting for the vehicle to move again, waiting for border patrol to move them along. She stared ahead into Canada while sitting in Washington.

  A tall agent bent slightly to the window for their passports. He sniffed and tapped one of the covers. "Where's this?"

  "Micro-country in the middle of the ocean," Tristan replied, again in the driver’s seat.

  "Which one of you is Juliette?"

  She raised a finger.

  "Only American in the bunch?"

  "Yup."

  "How long will you be here?" he asked her.

  "A-a week. We're , um, visiting my dad in Vancouver before this guy asks officially if he can marry me.” The lie sprung from Juliette’s mouth without hesitation. William and Emma snickered behind her.

  "A minute please." The agent walked away with their documents.

  "I'm so sorry, that's just the first thing that came to mind," she whispered, blushing.

  Tristan grabbed her left hand and kissed her ring finger, holding it to his mouth for a moment, and smiled.

  “Wow.” Ash’s eyes widened. "Tu te marier?"

  Tristan looked at him in the rearview mirror. "Not yet, mais peut-être un jour. "

  "What are you guys saying?" Juliette twisted in her seat. “Gabby, what--”

  Tristan sighed in apparent relief when the agent return
ed, sparing him from having to answer. He merely winked and turned toward the window.

  "Here you go. Have a fun time, and good luck on talking to the dad.” The agent handed their passports back to Tristan. “Congrats to both of you.”

  Another night became yet another day of more driving. More miles of little to see, more mundane conversation.

  Sunil sighed loudly. "I garnered some enjoyment running through all of this wilderness as an animal. Driving? I'm wanting to gouge my eyes out." He followed Gabrielle's directions until, hours later, he pulled into the parking lot of a hotel larger than they expected to find in the remote city. The greying exterior didn’t give promise of much comfort. Gabrielle went in ahead of them to check in.

  A hand reached over the seat and softly ruffled Juliette’s hair. She turned to be greeted by William’s uncharacteristically soft smile. "This time tomorrow we'll be roughing it. You sure you're up for it, Little Sis?"

  "I’m probably as ready as anyone else.” She pushed her way out of the car and wiped an errant raindrop off her cheek.

  Tristan opened the hatch and pulled out the sacks. "You could stay here while we're gone. You’d be safe."

  "Tristan! Stop trying to change my mind, unless you truly don’t want me to be with you through this. But even in that case, I’m doing this." Juliette’s mouth pulled into a frown. A chilly breeze rushed over her, and she shivered. "I'm going inside." Tristan clutched the door handle. Juliette nodded once and went in.

  Gabrielle finished checking them in as they approached and held out a spread of numbered key cards. "Couples are in corporate kings, I'm in a room to myself tonight, and Will, Ash, and Jareth, you three can decide who gets what of the other two rooms, both with a couple queens. Sleep in. We have a much shorter drive tomorrow, and we’ll set out on foot by afternoon."

  Sunil and Emma grabbed their key and strolled, arm-in-arm, to the elevator. Few words passed between them. Behind their backs, Juliette wistfully watched them until the doors closed.

  "I can take care of finding a dry cleaner, Gabby." Tristan gave her a one-armed hug.