Purpose

by Kristie Cook

  “Like vampires?” I asked with surprise. “I mean, the connection vampires have with those whose blood they’ve sucked?”

  “Exactly. But my body wouldn’t burn through it for energy like they do. So, your theory’s a strong possibility.”

  He just confirmed what I’d once believed to be fiction—the connection between vamps and their victims—and something about that gnawed at the back of my mind. I decided it was just lingering shock because nearly everything I’d been writing about was real.

  “So, tell me the ending,” I said, returning to his story. “How did you escape this time?”

  Chapter 10

  Tristan grinned but not his normal smile. This one took my breath for a different reason. It actually looked…wicked.

  “I’d been planning it for a while, ever since I first heard they were coming after you. They’re slow to make such decisions, which they should be, of course, especially when their reasons aren’t credible. I paid attention, analyzing everything, learning the new areas as they moved me around. I hid the fact that I’d become immune to the spells they used and let them believe they still controlled me completely. So they became relaxed with me, keeping me around as they discussed their plans, still absorbed with their own pride and believing I’d change my mind about them. I learned what I needed to know to escape and when I heard they were executing their plan for you, I executed my own plan. I surprised the hell out of them—they created me, yet they still underestimate me. I took out a few of their strongest on my way. I quite enjoyed that.”

  Now I understood the nefarious grin. Not actually evil, just vengeful.

  I didn’t know what to say. He stayed with them to keep me safe and then escaped to protect me. Even while captured, sitting in the closest thing to Hell, he worried about me. And I only thought about why he hadn’t come back sooner. In other words, I worried about me, too. Even now, the only thoughts coming to mind were selfish or, at least, minimal. I wish you had come back sooner? I’m glad you’re back? Thank you?

  “What are you thinking?” he finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

  “About how much I love you and how miniscule that sounds compared to what I actually feel.”

  He nuzzled his face in my hair and murmured, “Hearing you say you love me will never be miniscule to me. It’s the best thing these ears could ever hear. And I’ve been waiting a very long time to hear it again.”

  I turned to him and brushed my lips across his. “I love you, my sweet Tristan.”

  It still didn’t sound like enough to me, but a glorious grin spread across his face as he closed his eyes. “Mmm…that’s what I’m talking about.”

  Every little gesture was important to him. I needed to remember that—to never discount anything. He pressed me tighter against him and I listened to his heart, strong and steady and comforting. I slid my hand up his chest and neck, around the contours of his face and into his hair.

  “Your hair is so dark,” I whispered. “It used to be lighter, the color of sand. Dark sand, anyway. Now it’s like caramel.”

  “It hadn’t seen sun in many years.”

  I blinked back the tears at the reminder as I let the silky strands fall through my fingers. “And it’s so long.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I don’t know.” I continued running my fingers through it. “It is sexy.”

  His eyebrows jumped and a smile played on his lips. “Maybe I should have left it longer.”

  “It was longer?” Then I remembered seeing him—when I thought he was a delusion—standing in the park, long hair whipping in the breeze.

  “I pulled it into a ponytail and cut it off to a more reasonable length. I hope you’ll finish the job for me.”

  I laughed. “You want me to cut your hair? No way.”

  “So you do like it?”

  “That’s not exactly what I meant. I mean, I guess I like it. You kind of look like the Tristan in Legends of the Fall….”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Him again?”

  I smiled, also remembering the conversation many years ago. “Yeah, but…”

  He studied my face. “But what?”

  “But you also look like you belong on the front of a romance novel or something.”

  He laughed. “Okay, it’s definitely coming off then.”

  “Well, I’m not doing it. I have no idea how to cut hair and I’m not ruining it.” But I did have an idea. “You want to feel something incredible?”

  “I have you in my arms. What could feel more incredible than this?”

  “Hmm…you’re right. It can wait.” I leaned my head against his chest.

  “You have me curious now.”

  With a grin, I rolled out of his arms and retrieved my brush. I knelt behind him on the bed and brushed his hair, slowly and gently, the way I liked mine to be brushed. Mom had brushed it a lot for me over the years, because sometimes I hadn’t cared enough to do it myself and it had helped to relax me.

  “Mmm…you’re right. It’s almost as good as foreplay,” Tristan said with a shudder.

  I chuckled. “I never thought about it like that. Of course, I guess if you were doing it…well, any touch from you is like foreplay.”

  “Really? You’re that easy, huh?” He trailed his fingertips up and down my calf, the electric current giving me goose bumps. I squirmed from the tickle.

  “Only for you,” I said softly, kissing his ear.

  I ran my fingers through his hair again and it felt soft and silky, like Dorian’s. I smoothed the strands down and pulled them all into a ponytail, then yanked on it to pull him back against me. I draped my arms around his broad shoulders and he clasped my hand over his heart again.

  “Thank you for coming back,” I murmured. Like earlier, it didn’t sound like enough, but I felt the need to tell him anyway.

  “I’m sorry I ever left,” he replied quietly. I wondered if he had felt a similar need to tell me that. The apology was good to hear, to be honest. Because there had been times I’d wondered over the years, when I dwelled in my darker hours, if he’d known exactly how bad it would be and went anyway. And, in my darkest of dark hours, if he had purposely left, his assignment with me finished.

  “Me, too,” I whispered. A tear slid down my face and dropped onto his bare shoulder.

  “Don’t cry, my love. We’re together now.”

  I wiped my wet cheek against his hair. “Forever this time?”

  “Forever. I promise.”

  I rested my chin on his shoulder, our cheeks pressed together, and closed my eyes. I breathed in his delicious scent and was reminded of motorcycle rides to Gasparilla Island when we first got together. I felt like I could sit here with him forever, never having to let go again. But then that strange, burning sensation started coursing through my veins and muscles. The energy began to build again and I tried to fight it. My body wanted to move, but my heart didn’t.

  Tristan finally broke the silence and made the first move to get up. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  I shrugged. “Not really. I actually feel like going for a run or something.”

  “You need to eat. And then I will give you a workout,” he said with a smile.

  “Oh, yeah? You planning to teach me Aikido?”

  “Hmm…I guess I could. But…” He bent his head down to mine and ran his mouth over my jaw and neck. “…I was thinking of a different kind of workout.”

  “Ah, even better.”

  We went out to the kitchen to find something to eat. Guilt stabbed my heart when I saw the package of steaks on a plate in the refrigerator.

  “I should cook those for you and Owen tonight,” I said. “I owe him.”

  “Were you two planning a special dinner?” Tristan asked, raising an eyebrow.

  I frowned and made myself busy, pulling meat, cheese and mustard out of the refrigerator to avoid his eyes. “The pretense was a celebration for finishing the last book, but I really just wante
d him to go to the store and away from here long enough so I could leave last night.”

  I felt him eyeing me. “What were you thinking anyway?”

  “About you,” I said honestly as I started making sandwiches. “I wanted to find you. And I needed to save my family. When you went to them, they left us alone until now. I thought if I went to them, they would leave the others alone. And we could be together again. If my family would be safe, then I’d rather be in their hell with you than in my own hell alone.”

  He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry I made you so miserable.”

  I finally looked up at him, holding the mustard-covered knife in the air and jabbing it with emphasis. “You didn’t make me miserable. Your absence did.”

  He stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I know what you mean, my love. Life is nothing without you.”

  “Exactly.”

  I finished the sandwiches and handed him one and half of mine. I really didn’t feel hungry; my stomach felt too knotted to eat. The phone rang as we finished and I ran into the bedroom to grab it.

  “Hi, Mom!” I answered, falling backwards onto the bed.

  “You sound good,” she said.

  “You don’t. You sound tired.”

  “Fourteen hours of air travel and another two on land and sea with a six-year-old is exhausting.”

  “Sheesh, where are you? I thought you were just going to a safe house.”

  “No, we came to Rina’s. We just arrived. I wanted to see how you were before I hit the hay.”

  “I’m great! I really couldn’t be any better.”

  “How are you feeling? Tristan said you were hurt pretty badly.”

  “I’m fine. Everything’s healed up perfectly.”

  “How’s Tristan?”

  “Beautiful. Sweet. Here.”

  “Does he seem…okay?” Worry filled the question. I could hear her concern clearly across the thousands of miles separating us.

  “Yeah, he’s fine, Mom. Actually, more than fine. He’s absolutely divine.” Even through the phone, Mom’s chuckle sounded hollow, empty of humor. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just concerned about him…and you. We don’t know what they’ve done to him. I’m sure they’ve left something behind.”

  “Well, there are some…residual…effects. But it’s not anything we can’t work through. He loves us, Mom. He loves me. We’ll be okay.”

  She sighed and apparently accepted my assessment because she changed the subject back to me. “How are you doing? Anything going on with you?”

  “If you’re referring to any changes, I don’t think so. Of course, I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

  “I’ll be there in a couple days. I guess, in the meantime, just be careful. If something happens, Owen’s there to help.”

  I thought about that and smiled to myself. It seemed, just like many years ago, I only had to worry about Tristan during sex and I felt pretty sure I wouldn’t want Owen’s assistance then. Owen, help! I don’t know if that was a moan of pleasure or a real growl! Nope, wasn’t happening.

  But I simply said to Mom, “Yeah, I know.”

  “We need to get to bed, but Rina wants to make sure you tell Tristan to begin working on the plan. He’ll know what she means.” She paused and I heard what sounded like Rina speaking to her in the background. “Dorian wants to talk to you.”

  “You didn’t tell him about Tristan, did you?”

  “No, honey. That’s your surprise. I wouldn’t ruin it.”

  “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best. I love you.”

  “I know you do. And it’s nice to hear you so happy again. Hold on a sec while I get Dorian.”

  I motioned to Tristan to come lay next to me, putting my finger to my mouth. We’d already agreed he shouldn’t “meet” Dorian on the phone, but he could listen. We lay on the bed, our heads close together, the phone between us.

  “Hey, Mom!” Dorian said. Tristan squeezed my hand as soon as he heard his son’s voice. My own heart soared when I heard it. Just last night, I thought I never would again.

  “Hey, little man. How are you?”

  “I’m great! Do you know where we are?” he asked, wonder filling his voice, as if he’d never been anywhere so cool.

  “Tell me!”

  He told us all about Rina’s ginormous rock house with the fires everywhere, even on the walls, and about the planes and the pretty flight attendants and the movies and everything else he could think of, moving from subject to subject without interruption, barely pausing to breathe. Tristan beamed by the time Dorian finished.

  “Mom, when will I see you again?” he asked, the enthusiasm replaced by longing. “I miss you. A lot.”

  “I miss you sooo much, too, little man,” I said. “But I don’t know when. Soon, though. And when you do, I’ll have a really big surprise for you.”

  I waited for him to gush about getting a dog for his upcoming birthday, not ever expecting the bigger and better surprise we had in store for him.

  “Did you find Dad?”

  What? Tristan and I stared at each other wide-eyed, mouths open. How does he know?!

  “Dorian, why would you say that?” I finally asked.

  “Because you left in his car and you’ve been gone a long time and now you’re really happy.”

  I couldn’t answer him. Tears filled my eyes and I thought even Tristan’s eyes were moist.

  “Mimi says I have to go now, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, little man.”

  I snapped the phone shut and we laughed and cried in amazement.

  “I told you he’s smart,” I said, “but that blew me away.”

  “He’s unbelievable…even better than I ever imagined,” Tristan said wistfully. Then his lips spread into the really fabulous smile, the one that always made my heart melt and the rest of my insides turn to mush. “I think we need to try for that little girl.”

  He rolled over and pinned me on the bed, kissing my neck and my chest and…lower. Good thing we hadn’t dressed—our clothes would have been shredded in renewed desperation. When his eyes blazed and he seemed to be losing control, I just had to tell him I loved him to bring him out of it. Our love served as the antidote to whatever lurked beneath his surface, whatever they’d planted in his subconscious.

  We lasted slightly longer this time—long enough to break the bed in the middle, creating a bowl I had to climb out of.

  “I liked that bed,” I said regretfully. “It was…comforting.”

  “There are two more just like it in this house.”

  I didn’t expect him to understand. While I lay on that bed, a bawling lunatic savoring our memories, I finally started climbing out of my dark pit. It was almost symbolic, having to climb out of the pit of the broken bed.

  “We’re staying in this room, at least.”

  “Well, help me move the beds. Or I can ask Owen?” He grinned.

  My eyes widened. “Oh, no. I’ll do it. That’d be too embarrassing.”

  He laughed. “Not for me.”

  Men, I thought with a shake of my head. Then I thought about Vanessa seeing this and knew I would feel the same way.

  Tristan didn’t really need help moving the beds. Although he probably could have lifted them with one hand, he didn’t even bother. He simply used his power, making me wonder if I would ever be able to do that. He said telekinesis was a basic power and even the weakest of our kind could move a bed. Then he said I would be so powerful, I would probably be able to move skyscrapers if I wanted. I laughed at the absurdity.

  “Maybe we need to get a rock house like Rina’s,” I said, rubbing my hand over all the dents in the wall above the new headboard. I laughed. “You think that’s why she has a rock house?”

  “From what I’ve heard about Rina, I wouldn’t be surprised. I hear you come by it naturally.” The gold sparkled in his eyes.

  “Oh, I see. Now I know the real reason you came looking for me all those ye
ars ago,” I teased.

  “Nah, it’s just a nice little bonus.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “But I don’t think Rina’s house is what you’re picturing. She lives in the ancient Amadis mansion, made of marble and limestone.”

  I envisioned Rina in her fancy dresses, gliding around an impressively large, resplendent house of marble. “Ah, that fits better.”

  “I do like Dorian’s description, though.” He flopped down on the new bed. It moaned in protest. “Even if we have a rock house, it won’t help the furniture.”

  “No, it won’t. We’ll have to figure something out or the kids will be wondering why we need a new bed all the time. And can you imagine when they’re older? They’ll be mortified.”

  “They’ll probably hate us for having such a great sex life,” he said and we both laughed. He pulled me onto the bed and we lay in each other’s arms. Just one day earlier I would have never guessed I could be so happy again. And here he was, my sun pushing the darkness away and lighting up my life once again. Discussing the future with him—including a daughter—was priceless.

  Chapter 11

  “What—the—hell—were—you—thinking?” Owen fumed as soon as he walked in the door that evening.

  I backed away from him, until my back pressed against the counter. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? Alexis, do you have any idea how I felt when I came back and you were gone? Do you know what Rina and the council would have done to me if…if…” He couldn’t finish. “And Sophia…she would’ve killed me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated with deepest sincerity. “I know I took advantage of you. And I understand if you never trust me again. I thought I was doing what was best.”

  “And exactly what did you think was best?”

  “Surrender to the Daemoni so they would leave everyone else alone.” Both Owen and Tristan groaned. “They want me. Not Mom. Not Rina. And not Dorian. And I knew you’d never just let me go.”

  “Of course not! That was incredibly stupid. And if Tristan hadn’t been there, you’d be in the Daemoni’s hands—or dead—and he’d be here. How do you think all of us would feel about that?”