Betrayal: The Awakening

by Kira Hillins

  Unable to stand the pain any longer, she headed back to the vehicle. The night watched her. Ghosts had come out of their graves to haunt the area. A monster who hadn’t fed in two days was out there somewhere feasting on blood. She shouldn’t be scared now, but she was.

  “What do you expect, dummy?” She shivered as she glanced around. “You’re alone in a cemetery at night.”

  She picked up the pace. By the time she reached the passenger side of the SUV, she was in a sprint. She held her breath as she climbed in. She slammed the door shut then pressed the lock. The only sound came from her erratic breath and her pounding heart.

  She looked down at the scrapes and cuts on her arms. There was some minor bleeding, but it wasn’t that bad. She retrieved the first aid kit from the glove compartment. She ripped open an alcohol packet. It stung as she wiped it across the cuts.

  Tristan hadn’t meant to hurt her. He’d restrained himself, fought with the evil inside him and won. Though she carried some of the wounds, he was his own victim in this battle.

  It was obvious to her now. He loved her. No matter how much he fought, or how much he struggled with the shadow inside him, she’d be there to help.

  She shoved the first aid kit back into the compartment and looked out the window. A light fog had developed between the gravestones. Like a dark blur, Tristan appeared from the sky and landed on Mac’s grave. After a short debate, Anna unlocked the door and stepped out of the SUV. She drew in a deep breath, and then started her trek through the damp grass.

  ****

  Tristan knelt on one knee then bowed his head. “I am sorry I was not there to see you off, my friend. Rest well. Be at peace.”

  He kept his attention on Mac’s grave as Anna approached. She stopped at a distance behind him, not that he blamed her. He was a demon, a monster who’d lost control. He’d almost killed her and that was unforgivable. Now he was a mess, covered in cow’s blood. His belly was full and it disgusted him. How could she ever love something as repulsive as he?

  He hunched his back as he stood. He repositioned his jacket over his shoulders then turned his back on her to hide. “Stay back. And do not look at me.”

  “It’s okay.” She walked around him until she was facing him. He bowed his head, refusing to let her see his pathetic face. She swiped a damp lock from his eye. It was enough that he could see the cuts on her arms.

  “What happened?” He took hold of her hands and stretched out her arms. “I did this to you?”

  She grimaced in pain. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

  “I am a disease unworthy of your trust!” His voice echoed around them.

  He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm. Her body trembled and tears marked the corners of her eyes. He hated to see her in such turmoil, but he couldn’t stay with her. Not like this.

  “They’re just scratches.”

  “Next time you might not be so lucky.” He jerked from her grasp then headed toward the edge of the trees.

  “Don’t you dare leave me here alone!”

  He could sense her sorrow, but he didn’t acknowledge. How could he when all he meant for her was death? But his heart—for the first time in his dark existence—was breaking.

  He looked back. She knelt in the grass on Mac’s grave. With her face in her hands, she sobbed. Maybe it was her cries. Or maybe something unworldly, a familiar spirit, coaxed him, pleaded with him to go back to her. He couldn’t stand to see her in so much pain.

  He lifted her to her feet. He wanted to hold her, but he was covered in blood. Much to his surprise, she fell against him. She wrapped her arms around his torso then pressed her face against his chest.

  “Promise me you won’t ever leave me.”

  He didn’t respond. He couldn’t promise such a thing. Though it felt right being with her, comforting her, as if Mac smiled down on them, giving his blessing, it wasn’t. She was an angel who deserved to be with someone who offered her warmth, love, and children. And as desperate as he was to give her that life, he never could.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Home

  Anna’s single story, one-car garage condo looked like heaven. The place was more like a brick cabin sitting on a resort, with matching buildings beside it. They were spaced out enough that there might be some noise coming from next door if they tried. Fortunately, her neighbors were quiet and kept to themselves.

  It was an expensive piece of property, but worth the heaping amount she’d shelled out to buy it three years ago. She’d sort of planned on renting it out at one point, if she ever moved in with Jack, but that idea kept getting pushed back. She was glad she’d stayed here now that Tristan had come home with her.

  She parked in the driveway. Her smile faded when she looked at him. He had brought the hood over his head so she couldn’t see his blood-covered face. He didn’t need to be ashamed of something he couldn’t prevent. She would make sure he never went without blood again, even if she had to rob the blood bank herself.

  She grabbed her backpack from the backseat then hopped out of the truck. She scaled the three front steps to the small covered deck with him right behind her. She unlocked and opened the door to her welcoming home. Then that rush came like a breath of fresh air. “Home sweet home.”

  Tristan put his hand on her shoulder. His eyes glowed as he peered into the dark room.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There is a scent other than yours. Stay here.” He disappeared into the house.

  The scratches hurt more with goosebumps as she waited for him to finish searching her house. The door had been locked up tight with no visible signs of break-in. None of the windows were shattered. No way would her neighbors allow anyone to snoop around. It was a gated community anyways, so nobody could come in without being seen—except Jack.

  Tristan must have detected Jack’s scent. Dizziness swept through her. She hadn’t said a word to Tristan about Jack, and the fact she was in a relationship with him. Though, that would be over first chance she could speak with him—tomorrow or the next day or next week. Working with him was going to be a nightmare.

  Tristan appeared in the doorway. Her heart drummed against her ribs as she followed him in. She shut the door, locked the knob, twisted the dead bolt, and then latched the chain.

  She flipped on the lights and glanced around. Everything looked the same. She’d missed her dark brown sectional couch, and the painting of a lighthouse in moonlight above it. She missed the small, round dining table in the corner nook beside the open kitchen.

  Anna held her breath. On top of the glass surface sat a large vase of pink roses, at least a dozen, wilted, and discolored. Jack had probably left them here as an apology. He’d put a lot of pressure on her before she left for England. Desperate to go, he’d begged, almost at her feet. He’d sworn he’d lose her if she left him, but she had reassured him with a kiss.

  She looked at Tristan, who had made his way into the backyard. It seemed Jack was right. As much as she cared about him, she was in love with Tristan. He made every man in the world non-existent.

  She picked up the card from the holder then opened it.

  I’m sorry about the fit I threw. I hope you had a wonderful trip. Call me as soon as you get back. I love you. Jack.

  The sliding glass door opened. She stuffed the note in her pocket. With a quick turn on her heels, she stumbled right into Tristan’s arms.

  He looked to the side with his gaze on the floor. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m just exhausted.”

  He clutched her shoulders then drew a step back. “Then you should rest.”

  “I need a hot shower.” She glanced down at the blood on her shirt. “You’re welcome to take one. And…” She swallowed hard, wondering what he’d think of her having some of Jack’s clothes hanging in the bedroom closet. “I sometimes pick up my colleague’s clothes from the cleaners. So, I happen to have something for you to change into. They’re not black, and they may be a tad shorter, but at
least they’re clean.”

  It wasn’t a lie, but also not the truth. Their relationship was too fragile to confess she’d had a steady boyfriend whom she’d, very briefly, considered marrying.

  “I will go to the house on the coast for the day. But I will rejoin you later. There are things I must do…”

  “No!” She fisted his jacket. “I don’t want you to go. I have your wool blanket in my closet. I can hang it in my window to keep out the light.”

  He sat on the arm of the couch. “You kept the wool blanket from my cot?”

  “Yes.” Now at eye level, she could see the blood dried on his face. She moved into the space between his legs then slid her arms around his neck. She tipped her head toward him and pressed her temple against his. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why do you apologize?”

  “For forcing you to come with me on the plane. For allowing you to starve when I carry the essence you need.” She leaned back and stared into his eyes. “If you want my blood, it’s yours. Just…” she gave a short laugh, “…don’t take it all. Maybe I could use a syringe and draw some out for you.”

  His brows furrowed. He removed her hold on him. “Never say that again.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest. His scolding tone made her feel small and insignificant. Why couldn’t he accept her offer? Was her blood not good enough for him? Would he rather drain some poor animal in the field?

  She lifted her hand to his face, but he backed away. He strode toward the door. He meant to leave.

  “Come on, Tristan.” She blocked his way out. “You can’t go out looking like this. At least stay and take a shower before you leave.”

  He glanced down his front. “I suppose you are right.”

  “Follow me.” She led him down the short hall then into the bathroom. “Put your clothes in the hamper beside the sink. I’ll wash them tomorrow. I’ll also leave fresh clothes for you on my bed.”

  He took off his boots then socks. He tossed his jacket over his shoes, and then his shirt. Straight black hair fell to the space between his shoulder blades, beautiful against his pale skin. He unbuttoned his slacks then slid them over his perfect hips and down the length of his strong legs.

  Aroused, she looked away. It’d be so easy to slip into the shower with him, but she left the room. As the water started, she went to her bedroom closet. She searched through Jack’s clothes and found a dark blue T-shirt and gray slacks. He’d left a pair of black dress shoes the day he’d helped her move in. She hoped they’d fit.

  She made her way to the couch. She sunk into the soft cushions and laid her head back on the armrest. Her eyes fell heavy. Just closing my eyes for a moment. When he was done with his shower, she’d convince him to stay.

  * * * *

  Tristan watched Anna for a little while. She looked peaceful and comfortable. With her lips curved upward, maybe her dreams were pleasant. Every so often she’d whimper and frown, and it took all his strength not to wake her.

  He picked up the blanket from the back of the couch then covered her. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to stay, he had to get as far away from her as he could. This home was not meant for him, and neither was she.

  He went out to the back porch. For now, Anna was safe, but she wouldn’t be forever. He sensed Madeline through their link. Her eagerness to find him was strong. If he could keep his heart hidden, she’d never be able to locate him.

  Damn if Anna wasn’t making it difficult. The woman was insistent on making her way into his heart, and she’d found her way. He had to protect her, but how? What would deter his thoughts?

  This Jack Anna spoke to before, she was involved with him. From his voice on the phone, he loved her and believed her heart belonged to him. With Jack, Anna could live a full, enriching life and forget about him once again. She could go on to marry and have children.

  Tristan shook his head. These thoughts are no good. They only made him jealous. He breathed in, and then out again. He yearned to hurt this Jack for even thinking she was his. Anna was the only one he craved, the only woman he wanted to be with. He loved her and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  Damn Madeline for connecting our emotions. Death was the only way to end this wretched link. For this to be over Madeline needed to die—and so did he.

  He was a killer, a man possessed by a demon he could no longer hide. Tied to the woman he loved—the woman he could never have—he was destined for misery. She had so much more to offer this world. If she stayed with him, she would be cold in his arms, trembling every time he touched her. She would live in darkness when she carried so much light.

  With a need to tear something apart, he rose into the sky. To drink in blood would calm this angst inside him. This was not a life, not even the life he had known. She’d changed him more than he realized, and damn her for doing so.

  Chapter Twenty

  United

  Anna awoke to a light thud. She rose from the couch and peered through the darkened room to the back deck. A shadow moved outside. Icy fingers clawed at her back as she inched toward the sliding glass door. After a deep breath, she flipped on the outside light to find Tristan on his knees. His clothes were stained with blood again. His hands were wet and he held them out as if to show her what horrible thing he’d done.

  She slid the door open and hurried to his side. “What happened?”

  “What do you think happened?” The despairing look in his eyes tore at her heart.

  She tried not to think the worst as she led him inside the apartment and down the hallway. She turned on the light and leaned him against the doorframe of the bathroom. Hiding her trembling lips, she started the shower, unsure of what to think.

  She retrieved a towel from the linen closet. “Is this human blood?” She regretted asking it the moment it came out. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to ask. I know you would never hurt anyone.”

  “I have killed many, but not tonight.”

  It was obvious he’d been a killer at some point of his life, but she didn’t want to know his past. Even as he looked as though he would engulf her, she wasn’t afraid to stand face to face with him. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t look away. She couldn’t stop the ache inside. It wasn’t just love she sensed from him; it was rage and sorrow—and so much regret. The man was miserable, and there was nothing she could do to change that except love him.

  How was it possible to feel his pain? Why did her heart break so much? Why did she cry so hard when she should be scared?

  She helped him take off his soiled clothes. He stepped into the shower. As the water ran over his head, cleansing the blood from his body, he stared through the open glass door and into her eyes.

  “I do not deserve your pity.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you, Tristan. I just somehow…feel you. And my heart can’t take it.”

  He wrapped his fingers around her wrists, and then pulled her into the shower with him. Those dark eyes turned fierce red. “I cannot hide from you any longer.”

  Not knowing what he would do, she stared back, heart racing, choking on her tears. It wasn’t from being afraid he’d hurt her, but the fear, at this moment, that he’d leave her alone.

  “I love you.”

  He dove into her mouth. Dizziness swept through her as he kissed her long and passionately. He lifted her wet gown off her body then tossed it to the corner of the stall. She lost her balance, but he steadied her with his strong, wandering hands.

  He sucked in her nipple. Electricity spread from her head and out to her fingertips. She held his head in her hands as he licked and pulled from one to the other until her legs shook.

  He lowered to his knees. He slid her undergarment down her legs to her ankles. As she stepped out of them, he parted his lips over her mound. She gasped. His hands massaged her bottom as his cool tongue lashed between her thighs. She searched the wall for something to hold on to, but there was nothing.

  Palms against the tile, she s
hut her eyes. She pursed her lips to quiet her moans, but it was no use. It felt too good to stay quiet. “If you keep this up, ungh…I’m going to fall.”

  He nuzzled her skin as he made his way to his feet. She pushed his soaked hair back as he licked her erect nipple. He mouthed from one to the other until she couldn’t stand the ache any longer.

  He cupped her face and held her still. The coolness of his breath touched her heated cheek. He pressed his lips to hers and for a long while they kissed. His touch was gentle and his taste was bitter sweet. Her heart ached and body trembled so much, she could barely stand. When she whimpered, he leaned back.

  His gaze pierced through to her soul. If he searched for doubt inside her, he would never find it. Oh God, he had to know he would never find it.

  He backed her to the tiled wall. He lifted her left leg around his waist. He pressed his hard cock against her belly then rocked his hips, sliding it against her inner thigh. His kiss was tender, passionate. She gasped every time he let up on her mouth, and then stole her breath again in another kiss.

  She moaned as he pulled her other leg around his waist. He lifted her up then pushed inside her. Little by little, he plunged deeper into her body. Every thrust grew harder, faster as if he couldn’t dive far enough. Her nipples rubbed against his wet chest. She wanted more…more.

  He slid his mouth down her chin to her neck, biting when he found her nipple again. The constant movement of his hips was too much to make this last any longer. The anticipation was too strong. Her belly quivered.

  Their bodies slid together in a fast, rhythmic dance. Her breath grew rampant, and his groans reverberated against the enclosure. Arms around his neck, legs bound tightly around him, she would never let go. No matter what, she would never release him from her embrace.