The least she could do was walk away and leave him be. If he wanted her, wouldn’t he hold her in his arms, beg her to stay, and forgive all her mistakes? Instead, he stood there, hands in his pocket and eyes averted.
“Brianna!”
That voice sounded familiar.
She turned. Someone ran toward her, a woman with short dark hair and kind brown eyes. “Kimberly?”
“Yes.” Kimmie laughed, stepped forward and wrapped Brianna in a tight hug.
“Kimmie, what are you doing here?”
This must be some twilight zone. Tristan stepped around them and muttered something about speaking with Lord Sylvestre.
“Don’t you remember? I told you at the Armistice gathering my brother is mated to a vampire. Although, I believe they say moitié or whatever. Anyway, I’ve been here for the last week visiting them.”
She did remember. The event felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened; so much changed since then.
Kimberley leaned back and her smile dampened at the sight of her torn clothes and messy appearance. “Is everything okay?” Her friend looked to Tristan who stood with the leader near the line-up of humans.
She spared Tristan a quick glance, and said to Kimberley, “Yes. It’s a long story, but everything is fine.”
Kimmie nodded, but the arch of her brow told her she wasn’t convinced. “If you say so. I wish I could stay longer, especially now that you’re here, but I’m booked on the next shuttle out. I’m heading back to the States.”
“You are?” Brianna frowned. “What a shame. It would have been nice to spend some time with you.”
“Brianna?”
The sound of Tristan’s voice made her freeze. She turned to face him and he studied her. “Yes?”
“You won’t have to part with your friend so soon after all. You may go with the next shuttle into town.”
His words should have lifted her heart with joy, not slash like a poisoned whip. “Oh,” she muttered. Anger coursed through her, furious with herself. Was that all she had to say, but what else could she tell him? For the first time since coming here, things were going her way. And she hated the fact.
“That’s fantastic. We can take the same flight home and—”
“But I didn’t book any flights,” she stated. She might appear to be making excuses not to travel with Kimmie, but this had nothing to do with her childhood friend and everything to do with Tristan. But he just stood there, not once demanding she stay with him.
“That won’t be a problem,” he added. “I can arrange it all for you by the time you arrive at the airport.”
Her throat closed, a threat of tears burned her eyes. He would rather die than have her stay with him.
“Kimmie.” She gave her friend a polite smile. “Please give me a minute with Tristan.”
Kimberley blinked once, stepped back. “Sure, I’ll wait for you in the line-up."
“Thanks.” She waited until the young woman joined the rest of the group across the room. When she faced Tristan, he still had his hands in his pockets, and avoided her gaze.
“How will I pay you back for the flight? I don’t have any money on me at the moment.”
He tsked under his tongue. “You won’t, Brianna. You owe me nothing.”
A part of her didn’t agree. “Um…you can come to me anytime…for blood. I don’t mind, really I don’t.” Gosh, how awkward, like telling a neighbour they could stop by for a cup of sugar whenever they needed. He might not want her, but he needed her blood.
His lips twisted and his lethal stare spoke louder than words. “Again, you owe me nothing. Just leave, Brianna.”
Cheeks red-hot, she swallowed the lump in her throat, and forced back the hurt and embarrassment. “Okay,” she breathed. The soft click of her heels rang as she made a slow depart to the line-up of humans. Lifting her feet, they weighed like heavy steel. The action did not resemble walking, more dragging. She swallowed her pride, curled her fists by her sides and like a brave woman, stood at the end of the line, beside her friend. Some humans scrutinised her, perhaps wondered why she appeared the way she did. Even now, Kimberley glanced at her up and down. “You don’t want to change first?”
Not a bad idea. The dark, long dress might look ridiculous out in the real world. Not to mention her hair was a complete mess. She gazed at her wrist. No wounds marred her skin. She didn’t understand why the puncture healed so fast, just like the last time. The dried blood on her wrist exposed the mere indication of his bite.
People whispered while eyeing her, but she didn’t care. If she went back into his room to change, she didn’t think she would have the courage to walk out again, and didn’t want to embarrass him. “No, this will have to do.”
Tristan stared from across the room, and her gaze settled on him, unable to look away. His mouth opened. The warm tickle of his breath danced over the slope of her neck, and the hard muscles of his abs flattened across the front of her dress. She felt him, even with the distance, just like she had the first night.
With a small nod, he stepped back, wheeled around and headed through the plaza.
A tear trailed along her cheek, and she chased the droplet away with her palm. This would be the last time she ever saw him. Life always threw her these curveballs. When the time came for her to pack up and go, she did so without a fuss.
As a small child she had been on her best behaviour with each new foster parent, but none had the intention of adopting her; everyone wanted a newborn. Brianna never complained. Whenever a boyfriend had broken up with her, she packed her things and walked out his life. No begging them to take her back, or fighting for the relationship.
She removed her gaze from the archway and onto the cobblestone path. Tristan had passed through moments ago, and hadn’t returned. He wouldn’t return. She glanced around the place one last time. Male and female vampires dressed in black silks and velvets browsed at the different shops. Some sat at the bars, some at restaurants with a small group of human guests.
“Nous allons diriger,” said a vampire, in the same uniform as Lord Sylvestre’s guards.
“They want us to start heading up,” Kimberley explained.
Each step grew heavier when she climbed the stairs. Kimmie said something, but she didn’t pay attention, or respond.
They reached the top, and another two guards stood at the door. One took hold of the circular brass handle, and the second guard grabbed the other. They flung back the thick wood, nodding for them to exit.
The group headed through. Kimmie stepped around her and headed out also.
Brianna forced her feet forward and passed the threshold. A long lane stretched on her right. The dark trek lit with torches on either side of the rocky walls and led down a pathway that seemed very familiar to the hallways within the cave.
“La sortie y est également et le bus est à côté de la caverne.”
“The exit is a little further up, and the bus is just on the side of the cave,” Kimberly once again translated.
Similar to a prisoner in a line-up of convicts, she followed the group down the dirt path. Cool air brushed over her face and she straightened. Natural light shone ahead, shining on the brown, white and black rough limestone walls. The guard escorting them stopped and smiled.
“C'est là que je vous laisse, jusqu'à la prochaine fois.”
Everyone applauded and called out their thanks. She turned to Kimberly. “What’s going on?”
“This is as far as the guard can take us. People were just applauding their thanks.”
They continued toward the light. Brianna picked up pace, heart beating a little faster. Anticipation to see the other side hit her in full. She couldn’t wait, and found herself overtaking those in front of her.
When she exited out onto the clearing, brightness struck. With one hand, she shielded her eyes from the sun. It had been so long since she had seen direct sunlight, dark spots coated her vision. The dots soon cleared and the beauty of the outside world filled her view.
She climbed down the small, steep hill outside the cave. Moss and lichen covered the stone exterior. Further ahead sat the shuttle bus. The driver waited inside with the door ajar.
Brianna chuckled and kicked off her shoes. The soft, damp grass pressed into her bare feet, and increased the temptation to remove her dress, lie on the ground and enjoy the sensation over her skin. When she reached the edge of the hilltop, she inhaled deep.
The southwest countryside of France took her breath away. Green slopes and dips of the valley below stretched out for miles. The morning sun rose, the sky a mix of mustard yellow and grey. Steep, twisty roads in the distance curved around the mountain, and the daybreak fog far below reminded her of expanded cotton-wool, drifting over the old cottage buildings of a small village and along the course of a wide river.
A single tear slipped down her cheek. Even though the warmth of the sun seeped beneath her pores, the caress of the cool wind danced through her hair, and the green grass dampened her feet…she missed something.
She was touched on the outside. Inside, however, emptiness shrouded. No warmth caressed her, no breeze swirled, and that made the outward experience almost worthless.
“The bus is ready, Brianna.” Kimmie stood ahead, waving her over. The humans were boarding the large vehicle.
She could do this. Brianna stepped closer. The smile on Kimberly’s face encouraged her somewhat, but Brianna paused at the flash of colour above her head. She gazed up. A blue butterfly hovered in the air before landing atop the shrubs beside her. The flutter of its little wings captured her attention. She didn’t know if this was the same one, but reminded her of the day Tristan took her to the alcove. He had wanted to do a nice deed, and she all but spat in his face.
At the time she summed him up as a greedy bastard who only cared about himself. Of course she had; he took her from her home, her family, her life. But what she failed to realise was, he took a risk. He had waited centuries, and he could not let her slip through his fingers without giving their bond a chance.
And now her false accusations drove him away. He couldn’t seem to stand being with her for another second. Brianna stilled. If she took another step forward she would break down and cry.
Get a grip, you’ve walked away before, what’s one more time? Yes, she had done this several times and never looked back. What was one more?
Kimmie’s frown shifted from the bus to her. “Brianna, what’s the matter? Did you leave something behind?”
The question made her blink. She glanced toward the butterfly still perched on the dark green shrubs and dragged her right foot back. Shudders hummed through her shoe and up her leg. The tremors were like an awakening; she almost made the biggest mistake of her life. Her breathing flowed out in low, shallow exhales. Another tremble when she drew back the left foot.
“Go on, Kimmie. Leave. And remember to visit me next time you’re here in Désuet.”
Kimberly grinned; the smile a reminder of the times she sat with her and dreamed of what a real home was like. Oh, yes, she’d made a terrible mistake. She hoped she wasn’t too late.
Brianna spun around, dashed up the hilltop and passed the moss-covered stone. She turned a corner into the entrance of the cave and ran down the long path, clutching her dress, not to trip over the damn hem.
Kimberly asked if she left something behind. Yes, she had left her heart. Brushing strands of hair back, she raced to the front of the entrance. The doors were closed and two guards stood in front of the thick wood, perplexed to see her panting and anxious.
“Y a-t-il un problème?” One of them said.
“Pouvons-nous vous aider?” The other added.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand French. Do either of you speak English?”
One guard spared the other a look. “Anglais? Non English.”
She puffed out a frustrated breath and pointed to the door. “I must get inside. Please, let me pass.”
Again they stared from one to the other; proof they had no idea what she asked of them. She wouldn’t give up. “My moitié. Tristan Delacroix. Moitié.”
“Vous êtes la moitié de Tristan Delacroix?”
“Oui, oui,” she exclaimed, poking at her chest. “I am the moitié of Tristan.” Thank goodness, they at last understood her.
“Très bien, venez par le biais.”
Still unsure of what they said, she didn’t care because they took hold of the handles and drew back the doors, waving for her to enter.
“Oh, thank you. Merci, merci!”
Down the staircase she ran and tried for careful steps, holding her dress. Reaching the bottom, her pace didn’t slow. The slap of her shoes against the cobblestone path echoed in her ears.
She bypassed a small group of children in grey uniforms, a woman holding several shopping bags, and a guard. Some strangers seated at the outdoor restaurant stared as she ran through the town square like a mad woman. Through the arched hallway, she picked up pace; turning left, right, left again, making her way through the familiar maze to his room. She gasped for breath by the time she arrived at his opened door.
“Tristan!” She charged inside. “Tristan?”
Broken furniture and spilled wax displayed the chaos of what had taken place. Where could he be? Crossing the room, she threw open the bathroom door. No, not in there either. Brianna paced. Now what? She couldn’t wait here all day for his return.
A small smile tweaked her lips. She hurried out of the chamber, and sprinted until she found the hallway on the far left. The pathway elevated, but she kept up pace, ignoring the throb in her legs. If memory served her right, an arched doorway—yes, there it was. She headed through and froze at what she saw.
Tristan sat slumped on the floor near the sunlit alcove, elbows on his knees and hands in his hair. Crisp air swept the room, swirling a fine layer of dust off the floor and over his polished shoes.
The scene drained every ounce of strength she owned, reminding her of the days she sat alone, and waited for the next family to take her in for a short period.
Here sat a man who was once filled with so much light, but now possessed the very darkness he inhabited. In the open field, the long, green grass sashayed together, sounding like a salt-shaker. Tristan had mentioned how he sometimes visited this secluded place to think. From the indication of his profile, he resembled a man who wanted to escape his thoughts.
Perhaps sensing another presence, his hands lowered and he looked up. Every inch of him stilled as though he were cement. For a long moment he stared, possibly wondering if she were a mirage.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low and strained.
“I’m not leaving you.” The words emerged with a sure bravado, something she believed she lacked.
“Stop.” He gave a violent shake of his head and turned away. His hand extended, palm facing out. “I want you to leave. Right now, Brianna.”
“Why do you want me to go?”
“Just go, damn you.”
“Why?” she insisted.
“I won’t let you stay because you know I need your blood.”
She scoffed. “That’s not the reason I want to stay.”
He turned to face her, eyes widening.
“I’ll only leave if you’re not in love with me anymore.”
He blinked, but did not respond. His body stilled once again and she wanted to go over and touch him. She waited for an answer.
“So, do you?”
He sighed, placed his palms against the floor, and hauled himself to his feet. “Do I what?” he demanded.
“Do you love me?”
“That’s not a reason to stay. It’s more complicated than that—”
“Do you love me?” she insisted.
He paced to the edge of the alcove, and on instinct she stepped closer, but he didn’t plan on jumping. He placed one hand above his head, over the rough, rocky rim. “Of course I do,” he whispered, “but it means nothing. Like I said, it’s compl
icated. We’re too complicated. This will never work.”
“You sound so sure,” she mocked.
Tristan spun around, charged toward her until they were face to face. “Look at me. Look at this face that will haunt you for the rest of your days.” He sucked in a shuddering breath. “I have the face of a killer, and not just any, but the one who murdered your sister.”
Brianna staggered back, hands fisted by her sides. She planted her feet on the ground. No, never again would she cower. She stepped forward, brushed her fingertips over the face he hated. “Two men may wear the same mask, but the difference is shown in their eyes. You are not your twin, you never will be.”
Emerald eyes slitted, mouth a thin line, he snagged her wrist and stalked to the edge of the alcove. “You belong out there. That is your life.” His finger thrust out the opening, toward the green fields with its wild, colourful flowers.
“That didn’t stop you the first time from taking me. Can you even give me one good reason I should leave?”
“You come from that world,” he said, pointing out the alcove again. “Give yourself time to get back out there, and soon you will forget me.”
Her breath quickened and she paused to control the emotional lump clogging her throat. Silence lingered. She had to make herself crystal clear. She’d confused this man time and time again with her feelings. “When you first showed me this room, I told you I wanted to see you miserable, to suffer just as I had. If I could take every word back, I would. You don’t deserve to suffer. You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.”
She pointed in the same direction he had. “Yes, I come from that world, but that world doesn’t have you,” she said, placing her hand over his chest. The heavy thud of his heart pulsed against her palm. A heart she vowed from this moment on to protect with her life. “I do love you, Tristan Delacroix.”
His brows scrunched to the centre of his forehead, mouth twisted with disgust. Was she too late? Had she lost him forever?
“How can you say that?” He groaned, his voice sounded struggled, and too painful to speak. “My brother killed your sister. What if one day you wake up and decide you can’t stand the sight of me a moment longer?”
Killer Temptation Page 20