by Tamar Sloan
He puts his index finger to his lips. “You need to come with me. Now.” His whisper is so silent she wouldn’t have heard him if the rest of the world was still in motion.
Barely able to move, she manages to shake her head.
“Please, you’re in danger,” he hisses. “They’ve come for you.”
That triggers a cannon in her nervous system.
“Who?” she mouths, unable to put enough wind behind her question for it to be audible.
“I’ll explain later, but we have to go right now.”
A sudden anger simmers deep within her and quickly spreads throughout her extremities. First he tells her she may be the person he’s been looking for his entire life, then he goes out with Cassandra of all people, and now he shows up at what might become her new home and tells her to abandon her one and only chance at a family.
“No!” she hisses back.
“Urgh, Brielle, this isn’t a game!” he groans hoarsely, no longer as quiet.
She glares at him and stomps forward. “You don’t get to do this, Tristan. You don’t get to manipulate me, fraternize with the one person who hates me most, and then demand I leave my only hope at a better life. No. I’m not going with you. Leave, or I will call the cops.”
His head drops between his shoulders and shakes slowly from side to side before lifting back up to look at her. “I can promise you that if you don’t come with me, you and your new parents will die. You want to save them? Then we have to go.”
The word “die” strikes a chord, and the vibrations resonate throughout her entire body. She knows she’s in danger. She wouldn’t have come out here if she didn’t. And with all the weirdness of the last few days—Tristan showing up, her powers growing, Eye Patch Guy’s warning—she can’t just leave this to chance.
“Then tell me who’s after me,” she demands, still whispering lest she broadcast the danger to Frank and Bea.
He clenches his jaw and exhales loudly, then holds his breath when he hears the sound it makes. “His name is Chardis. He’s the greatest evil in the Universe, and he’s the one who attacked my family’s space station and sent the Universe into chaos. He has assassins everywhere, forever hunting for the children who were sent to Earth seventeen years ago. They can become invisible and are extremely powerful.”
Invisible.
Like the objectless shadows she saw moments ago. The reason she came outside.
“And they’re here as we speak. It’s only a matter of time before they discover us and destroy us both. The only reason they’d be here is if you really are a Zodiac Heir. Now, do you want to be adopted or do you want to live?”
He holds out his hand.
She looks at it, a hot debate warring in her head. If she leaves now, completely abandons Frank and Bea without an explanation, she can kiss adoption goodbye. But Tristan isn’t lying. Even now, in her fragile paranoid state, she can sense the truth in his words and being. He really is here to help her.
And in this moment, her draw to him is more powerful than ever before. His open palm looks like a life raft, and she feels like she’s been floating at sea for months.
What should she do?
A twig snaps nearby, and out of instinct, she grabs his hand and pulls close against him.
“I’ll explain everything when we get to safety,” he whispers, his lips brushing against her forehead. “I promise.”
Brielle doesn’t know what she’s just agreed to, but every fiber of her being tells her it’s not safe for anyone if she stays.
Goodbye Frank and Bea.
Goodbye happily ever after.
19
Tristan
Wishing he had more time to explain this, but knowing he doesn’t, Tristan grabs Brielle’s hand and runs. His truck is parked further up the driveway, as close as he could get without being seen.
Right now, it feels too far away.
Reminding himself not everyone runs five miles before breakfast, Tristan has to force himself to slow down. He can feel he’s pulling Brielle as they break through the bushes and onto the drive.
Maybe they got away in time. Maybe he’s overreacted.
“Brielle?” a woman’s voice calls out. “Are you coming back inside?”
Brielle’s hand jerks in his as she looks over her shoulder. “Maybe I could just—”
Except there’s the unmistakable snap of a branch somewhere behind them.
Tristan grips her hand tighter, moving away from the house. “We need to get out of here.”
He takes them across the lawn, no longer bothering to stick to the shadows. Brielle doesn’t know how to fight. That means it’s his job to keep them both alive.
And getting the hell out of here is his best bet of making sure that happens.
The truck gleams in the dull moonlight, and Tristan opens the door for Brielle. “Quick. They’re not going to want to chat if they catch us.”
Brielle clambers in and Tristan runs to the driver’s side. He’s barely shut the door when he jams it into gear. “You’d better put your seatbelt—”
The click finishes the sentence for him. “What about yours?”
Tristan presses the accelerator. Just like Zarius taught him, he parked with a quick getaway in mind. Facing the road, no obstructions. He glances at Brielle. “What?”
“Your seatbelt. You should have it on, too.”
Keeping his headlights off, Tristan drives as fast as he can through the shadowy night. “It’s fine. I’ll get it later.”
Brielle’s hand appears under his nose. “Pass it here. If I need a seatbelt, so do you.”
Throwing an exasperated look her way, Tristan has to work not to smile. Reaching over his shoulder, Tristan grabs it and zips it across his body. Before he can click it in, Brielle takes it and does it herself. A quick tug and she makes sure it’s secure.
Tristan blinks. “Ah, thanks.”
Brielle turns to face forward. “It’s a good thing you agreed. If you didn’t, I was going to take mine off.”
Tristan’s smile is out of place considering they’re trying to get away from Skins, but it flares anyway. Brielle’s sweet…but plucky.
Quickly wiping it off his face, Tristan focuses on the road. He can figure out if these feelings mean what he thinks they do once they get back to the safety of his house. Just a little bit longer driving half-blind and he’ll turn on the headlights. Then he’s going to make like a shepherd and get the flock out of here.
The outlines of barns and houses creep by Tristan’s peripheral vision. Of course, the Pierces have to live out of town. Everyone’s seen enough movies to know what happens on backroads thanks to the lack of nosy neighbors. His hands flex on the steering wheel. Not much longer—
The sound of a roaring engine splits the air a second before Tristan’s truck is rammed from behind. Brielle screams as the impact jolts them forward, the seatbelt stopping Tristan from slamming his head against the steering wheel.
“Bastards,” Tristan mutters under his breath. “Hold on.”
Flicking the headlights on, Tristan jams his foot on the gas. The engine roars and the truck leaps forward, Brielle grabbing the dashboard.
The SUV’s headlights flash on, spearing through the rear window. The light retreats, but only for a second. The Skins accelerate, too, the yellow glow feeling like it’s breathing down Tristan’s neck. The next jolt has his teeth jarring.
“Tristan!” Brielle cries in alarm.
Pushing his foot all the way down, Tristan feels the wheels spin for a second before they grip. The truck’s rear end fishtails then streaks down the dirt road. Wishing he could comfort Brielle, tell her everything’s going to be okay, he locks his arms. Focus is what’s going to keep them alive right now.
The roaring draws close again, but this time, the SUV pulls out as if it’s trying to overtake. Tristan continues to accelerate, his heart rate matching the odometer. He’s never driven this fast, and not on a backroad he doesn’t know. He tries to r
emember what turns are coming up. Whether there’s somewhere he could lose them.
But he was too focused on following Brielle and her adoptive parents, cringing at the lame excuses he’d given Cassandra as he’d cut their date short.
The SUV draws up beside them and a quick glance shows two sneering Skins. The driver jerks his hands down and the SUV slams into the side of Tristan’s truck.
They careen off the side of the road, the tires sliding and bumping over the rough ground. His teeth gritted, Tristan fights the wheel with straining arms, stopping it from jerking wildly.
A quick yank and they’re back on the road, only to find the SUV is still beside them.
“They’re trying to kill us!” Brielle shouts incredulously.
“They’d probably prefer us alive, but injured wouldn’t be an issue,” Tristan growls.
He accelerates again only to find the SUV right beside him, joined in some sick dance. If it was just him, he’d ram the bastards back, but he has Brielle in the car. And his job is to protect her, not turn her into a canned sardine.
It means he has no choice but to wear the next attack. This ram has him slamming on the brakes as they bump over rutted ground. Brielle cries out at the looming length of a tree they’re roaring toward. Tristan doesn’t have time to see how much space he has, he yanks the wheel down, the broad trunk whizzing so close past Brielle’s window that she jerks away from the door. There’s the screech of a branch scratching the side and they’re back on the road.
“There’s still half a mile before we’re on the main road,” Brielle whispers hoarsely.
Too far. Too much time for the Skins to send them slamming into the next tree.
A side road, probably a driveway, zips past them. “I’ve got an idea. Hold on.”
The SUV lines them up. The Skins sneer as they wait, wanting to make them sweat.
“What idea? Tristan—”
The moment the Skin twists the steering wheel, Tristan slams his foot on the brake. The truck screeches and slides to a halt as the SUV streaks over the road, no longer having something to bounce off. It jolts over the verge, careening as it tries to change direction. Tristan holds his breath, only to watch the vehicle quickly right itself.
“Of course, they do,” mutters Tristan. Crashing into the side of the road and exploding in a ball of fire would’ve been far too convenient.
A quick glance makes sure Brielle’s still bracing herself, and Tristan accelerates as he jerks up the handbrake and twists the wheel. The rear end of the truck spins around, and in a blink, they’re facing the other way.
Tristan’s foot slams down on the accelerator. The driveway they just passed has got to be only a few yards away. A quick glance in the rearview mirror shows the headlights of the SUV swinging around.
The Skins are about to give chase.
“Are you holding on?” Tristan asks. Hopefully this is the last crazy move he’s going to have to pull off.
“I haven’t let go!” snaps Brielle.
Tristan flashes her a smile. “That’s m’girl.”
The turn he takes onto the sideroad is fast and aggressive. Gravel and dust spew out, rising like a cloud behind them as the rear end of the truck swerves wildly. Tristan straightens it up and powers down the side road. Ahead is just what he was hoping there would be.
A barn.
Cutting the lights, Tristan veers off the track and bounces over the grass. The moment they’re behind the building, he turns off the engine. Hopefully the cloud of dust they left behind obscured their little detour.
The silence that follows is short-lived. The furious sound of the SUV rumbles toward them. Tristan and Brielle freeze, not even the sound of their breath puncturing the air in the cab. He almost shakes his head. It’s not like the Skins would hear them breathing. They either saw them drive behind the barn, or the truck managed to slip out of view just in time.
Still, Tristan doesn’t give his aching lungs what they want until the SUV zooms past and around the next bend.
He sags, his head thumping against the steering wheel. “Man, that was close.”
Brielle doesn’t move. “Are you sure they’re gone?”
“We’ll give them a few minutes, then get the heck out of here.” Tristan straightens, studying her profile. “The irony that the Skins didn’t see us will have us smiling one day.”
Brielle swallows, keeping her gaze straight ahead. “I hope so. I’m pretty sure my face is forever frozen in a scream.”
Tristan shifts across the seat, brushing a strand of Brielle’s hair from her face. “That was one hell of an introduction to the Skins. Are you okay?”
Brielle rubs her arms as if she’s cold. “They were trying to kill us, weren’t they?”
“From what I can tell, we’re worth more to them alive. But yes, dead is a close second.”
She shivers and Tristan wraps his arms around her. “We need to get home. Things will be different once you have your stone.”
Brielle curls into him, gripping his shirt. “Nothing’s ever going to be the same again.”
Tristan’s chest aches at the truth in those words. “But we’ll do it together.”
Brielle nods into his chest and protectiveness engulfs Tristan. The feeling of connection with this girl is overwhelming. The sooner she has her tanzanite in her hand, the better.
He pulls back. “It looks like we’ve lost them. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
Brielle nods, wiping at her eyes. Tristan presses his face in close, his heart jolting as his eyes connect with hers. “Together, okay?”
The smallest of smiles tips up Brielle’s lips. “Okay.”
Sliding back behind the wheel, Tristan drives them back out to the road with the headlights off. His eyes spend just as much time scanning his mirrors as he keeps them on their ticket out of here.
It feels like neither of them take more than a shallow breath until they hit the tarmac. The streetlights feel warm and welcoming, the sight of another car zipping past has the noose around Tristan’s airway loosening.
He glances at Brielle’s pale face. “The good news is my place isn’t far from here.”
Brielle’s quiet for a moment and Tristan wonders exactly how freaked out she is. None of this would be easy to assimilate, especially when it’s thrown at you in an attempt to kill you.
She angles her head. “Where did you learn to drive like that?”
Tristan turns to face the road again. It seems Brielle isn’t so freaked out that she’s not wanting some answers. “Driver training started when I was twelve.”
“Twelve? That’s not exactly legal.”
“Neither is ramming someone off the road. Zarius figured that if I have to choose between death and dipping my toes on the wrong side of the law, we’d go for option B every time.”
Brielle twists even further to face Tristan. “Zarius?”
“Zarius is the palace soldier who was sent to protect me. He’s taught me everything I know—how to drive, how to fight, what we’ll need to defeat Chardis.”
“You sound close.”
“Zarius and Tess raised me. It’s a long story, but they’ve been the most amazing parents someone like me could have.”
Brielle nods slowly. “You’re very lucky, then.”
Tristan knows she’s thinking of her own chance at a happy family. He considers telling her the Pierces potentially know who and what she is, but he knows now’s not the time. He clasps her hand. “I’m looking forward to you meeting them.”
Brielle goes quiet but Tristan doesn’t have time to ask what’s going on. They’ve just turned onto his street, and his house is at the end of the block.
He pulls the car over, stopping.
Brielle straightens, looking around. There’s nothing but a park on one side and a corner store on the other. “What’s wrong? Where’s your house?”
Tristan indicates with his chin, his eyes scanning the empty street. “The white one at the end.”
Frowning, Brielle leans forward as she tries to see what has Tristan on edge. “Then why have we stopped?”
Tristan’s stomach plummets as his suspicions are confirmed. It was the slightest shift of a shadow that had him pulling over. The whopping piece of information that he’d forgotten in his haste to get Brielle to the stones.
He was a fool to think that he was taking Brielle to safety.
That it would be easy to reunite Brielle with her gem.
The Skins know where he lives.
20
Brielle
Brielle’s pulse pounds so furiously in her temples that she fears her head might explode.
How did this even happen? Only an hour ago, she was taking the first steps into her new cozy life with the Pierces, about to enjoy a simple dessert in what promised to be her new home.
Now, after a high octane car chase that almost killed them, she’s in Tristan’s truck up the road from his house with no clue as to who’s after them or why she just threw away the one thing she’s spent her entire life wanting.
“Tristan?” she prompts as Tristan stares toward his house, gritting his teeth, still not having answered her question.
“They have my house surrounded,” he says quietly.
She looks at the houses in front of them, scanning each one for signs of bodies. But the neighborhood looks as empty and peaceful as any for this time of night.
“There’s nothing there, Tristan,” she says, barely breathing.
“Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there. They can become invisible whenever they choose. They were real enough to chase us down with that SUV.”
She can’t take it anymore. There’s no more denying or trying to explain away. She has to accept what’s happening. But first, she needs to actually know what’s happening.
“Who are they?” she asks finally, hammering the final nail in the coffin of her normal life.
Tristan turns to her, then takes a steadying breath as if preparing himself for the long explanation that’s to come. “We call them Skins. They’re people who’ve been possessed by Chardis. They’re his puppets, robbed of whatever choice and soul they had before he infected them in exchange for heightened strength and speed and the ability to go unseen at will.”
