Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan

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Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan Page 3

by Jordan Summers


  His eyes turned pleading. “I’m not kidding,” Stone said. “He’s coming. I can feel him like an itch beneath my skin.”

  An irritating rash... Definitely sounded like Tristan. “I feel him, too,” she said calmly, though calm wasn’t what Izzy felt at all. She wanted to smash the stupid butterflies flitting around in her stomach. “You should go, while you can.”

  Stone shook his dark head. “You don’t understand the danger you’re in,” he said. “We should stick together.”

  She did, but there wasn’t time to convince Stone. Izzy was well aware of what could happen to her if she let her guard down.

  “The thing that’s coming is a killer,” Stone said.

  Izzy knew that, too, since Tristan had admitted as much, though she wasn’t sure how much was truth and how much was bluster. “Have you seen him?”

  Stone shook his head.

  “Well I have,” she said. “You really need to go before he gets here.”

  Stone scanned her apartment. “Do you have a cell phone?” he asked.

  “No.” Izzy had always been afraid that the monsters would use it to track her, so she’d avoided them.

  Stone pulled a cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He shoved the phone into her hands. “Take this. The number is in the address book, along with one where I can be reached. Once you find someplace to hide, call me and let me know that you’re safe.”

  “I will,” she said.

  His gaze continued to dart toward the door. “Are you sure you won’t come with me?”

  “Positive,” she said.

  Stone looked as if he wanted to say more but instead shook his head. “I really have to go. If you run into trouble, call! I’ll come and get you anywhere, anytime.”

  He bolted out the door before she had the chance to respond and disappeared down the street.

  Izzy saw a streak of white flash by and knew exactly who was on his trail. She prayed that Stone was faster, but there wasn’t anything she could do to help him. Izzy glanced back at her tote bag.

  She had to get out of here before Frosty found her again. Izzy finished packing and left a note and some money on the counter for her landlord. She glanced at the small apartment she’d called home one last time, then shut the door.

  Only one place she could think to go. She hoped Everly didn’t mind the company. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. If Tristan Chevalier found her, then he’d easily find Everly. Izzy wasn’t about to leave Louisiana without warning her friend.

  * * * * *

  The scent of the Darkling burned Tristan’s nostrils as he raced through the French Quarter in his wolf form. He was so close, he could almost taste the foul being on the air. The houses blurred as he poured on speed. The lodestone around his neck pulsed as it encountered a wave of dark magic.

  Tristan shuddered and almost lost form, but somehow his great beast prevailed. He turned a corner, following the pull of the magic, and suddenly the Darkling’s scent disappeared. The hair on his nape stood on end. Tristan stopped and dropped his nose to the ground.

  A week’s worth of city life smacked him in the face. He smelled spicy seafood, sweat, alcohol, and urine, but no Darkling. He raised his head and sniffed again, but the scent was gone. Had he opened a portal between the worlds and crossed over?

  It shouldn’t be possible without Tristan feeling it in the lodestone. Was this Darkling more powerful than the others? The thought left Tristan decidedly uneasy.

  He circled back one more time just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, but his nose didn’t lie. The Darkling was gone. Tristan growled in frustration and snapped at the air, then turned around and headed back the way he’d come.

  When he’d been chasing the Darkling, he’d also picked up a familiar aroma. Isabel. Her strong scent let Tristan know that he had to have passed her during the chase or ran by her home. He retraced his steps until he encountered the honeysuckle and citrus aroma again. It was strange how quickly he’d associated the scent with Isabel.

  Tristan stopped in front of a gray two-story mansion that had been converted into apartments. He put his nose to the ground and followed the sweet aroma wafting on the air until it ended at a closed door on the second floor.

  Heat swept through him as Tristan allowed the change to take him. When it was over, he stood naked outside Isabel’s home. He listened but couldn’t hear a heartbeat inside.

  Cold swept through him. Had the Darkling killed her?

  Tristan’s chest throbbed. He rubbed the spot, unnerved by the sudden wash of pain. He took a deep breath. Relief struck when he didn’t encounter death’s pungent odor.

  He glanced up and down the street to make sure that no one was around. Then Tristan turned the knob, breaking the lock. He pushed the door open. It squeaked, before settling against the wall.

  Tristan stepped inside and glanced around the small space. Compared to the vibrant woman who lived there, the place was lifeless. He walked deeper into the room and closed the door behind him.

  There were no personal items that he saw, nothing to indicate that Isabel had ever lived here other than her scent. Two steps brought him to the daybed. Without thought, Tristan pulled the blanket off the bed and brought it to his nose.

  He inhaled and smelled Isabel. He took her honeysuckle scent into his lungs and once again felt his beast rise. Tristan dropped the blanket and searched the rest of the studio apartment. The cabinets in the bathroom had been left open, indicating that Isabel had departed in haste.

  Anger surged to the surface. The little fool was running from him. Didn’t she know what would happen if she ran from his beast?

  Tristan strode for the front door. As he yanked it open, he caught a scent of the Darkling. Fading now, but there was no mistaking the stench. A sense of urgency rose. He couldn’t let the Darkling find Isabel before he did.

  Thanks to her blanket, he’d be able to track her scent. Unfortunately, so would the Darkling. Tristan threw his head back as the change swept through him. Bones snapped, and his body reshaped into the perfect predator.

  Isabel thought she could run from him, hide until he went away, but she was about to find out there was nowhere for her to go that he wouldn’t find her.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Three

  No matter how fast he ran or how many false trails he laid, the white beast continued its relentless pursuit. Almost as if he were able to track his magic, which was impossible.

  The Darkling had no choice but to open a portal into his realm. It was either that or fight to the death. He called out to the other side. Darkness thickened, then a tear in the fabric of this world shimmered a hundred yards in front of him.

  He cursed as he ran for the entrance. The Darkling hadn’t planned on returning without the female. He’d been so close. He had almost had the Sighted-One in his grasp, only to have her taken away.

  The Darkling glanced back and saw a flash of white barreling toward him. He picked up speed. The houses in the French Quarter became a blur.

  He passed a couple of humans stumbling down the sidewalk. His wake swept them off their feet. They tumbled into the street, their limbs tangling.

  He hoped that would delay the Moonlight Kin pursuing him, but he should’ve known better. The wolf leapt over the downed humans and kept coming. He didn’t even give them a second glance.

  The Darkling frowned. This wolf wasn’t like the others he’d encountered. They all cared about the humans, as if they were more than mere prey. This wolf was different. Single-minded. Dangerous.

  The entrance to his perpetually dark world swirled before him. The Darkling saw the full moon glowing on the other side, illuminating the thick forest. Magic crackled in the air. Not much farther.

  The white beast couldn’t follow him, unless he wanted to die. The magic would take away his ability to shift into his wolf form and eventually kill him.

  Only one wolf that he knew of had ever made it out alive, and he’d needed a portal rune stone
to do it. His thievery had earned him a bounty on his head. Unfortunately, no Darkling had been able to locate him and claim the prize. Rumor had it he was dead.

  The Darkling raced across the blackened ash that fell beneath the opening and jumped. He landed in his realm, his heart pounding in his chest, then turned to face the menace behind him.

  The white wolf skidded to a halt, its nose nearly touching the entrance, and glared at him.

  The Darkling laughed, but the sound came out as a shrill bark. He stood at the entrance taunting the beast, knowing full well he could do nothing about it.

  Next time, he vowed, then trotted away.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Four

  Izzy sat back on Everly’s lumpy burgundy couch to watch the sun rise. She’d only managed to get a couple hours of sleep, which was two more than her friend. Everly had been up all night doing God only knows what in her back room.

  Black candles flickered from various candelabras, highlighting the empty eye sockets of a half dozen skulls scattered throughout the living room.

  One of the skulls next to a hastily erected altar in the corner looked suspiciously real. Izzy didn’t say anything, since this was New Orleans and nearly fifteen percent of the population practiced voodoo. She didn’t think Everly fell into that category, but she couldn’t say for certain.

  The scent of frankincense choked the air. Everly said it helped her think. The scent gave Izzy a headache, but she didn’t complain. She was too grateful to Everly for taking her in.

  Her friend came out of the bedroom and sat across from her on a beanbag. Her dark brow furrowed in thought as she picked at her chipped black nail polish. The sun peeked through the dark purple curtains. Everly scowled when a ray hit her and got up to slam them shut. Darkness once more enveloped the room.

  Izzy sighed and closed her eyes.

  “Tell me again how you met him,” Everly said.

  “Which one?” Izzy asked without opening her eyes. She felt as if she could sleep for days.

  “The snowy one,” she said.

  “I sensed him while I was reading cards in Jackson Square last night,” she said, then paused. “At least I’m pretty sure it was him.”

  “I remember feeling him nearby,” Everly said. “It made my skin crawl.”

  “Yeah, mine, too,” Izzy said. So why hadn’t her skin crawled when she ran into Tristan later?

  “He wanted you to come with him?” Everly said.

  Izzy sighed. “Yeah, they both did. The strange part was they said they wanted to help me for the exact same reason.”

  “Weird,” she said.

  “I know,” Izzy said. “What are the chances?”

  “Too high to be a coincidence,” Everly said.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said.

  “One of them has to be lying.”

  Izzy glanced at her. “Well, one of them is a monster.”

  Everly bit her lip. “Good point,” she said. “What are you going to do now?”

  Izzy thought about it, but her tired, sluggish mind wouldn’t cooperate. “I don’t know.”

  If she were smart, she’d call her sister, Mindy, but Izzy didn’t want to drag her into her drama. Besides, she’d left her baby sister to keep her safe. Phoning Mindy for help would defeat the purpose.

  “Do you think he was telling the truth?” Everly asked.

  “Which one?” Izzy asked, giving up on getting any sleep.

  Everly shrugged. “Either one.”

  Izzy shook her head. “I don’t know.” She pursed her lips. “I suppose there could be a third player in the mix that I haven’t met yet. Tristan had enough opportunities to kill me if he wanted,” she said. “And Stone, he looked genuinely freaked out. I’ve seen that look before. It can’t be faked. Not that I can blame him with Frosty on his trail. To be honest, I don’t trust either one of them.”

  Everly giggled.

  “What?” Izzy asked.

  She smiled. “I think it’s funny that you’re calling Tristan silly names. I’ve never heard you do that when referring to one of them,” Everly said. “Normally, you just call them all monsters. Hmm...”

  Izzy sat up straighter. Hard to do on a lumpy couch that sagged in the middle. “He’s still a monster,” she said. “If you saw him, there’d be no doubt in your mind.” She pictured Tristan’s handsome face and godlike body. “Okay, he might fool you for a minute, but not for any longer.”

  Everly arched a dark, pierced brow. “I believe you,” she said. “Just thought I’d point it out. In case you weren’t aware that you were doing it.” She crawled off the beanbag and walked over to an unlit candle. Everly pulled a lighter out of her pocket. The candle flared to life. “If you had to trust one of them, who would it be?”

  Izzy considered the question. Her mind replayed the searing kiss she’d shared with Tristan. It had stirred her more than she’d cared to admit.

  “Stone, definitely Stone,” Izzy said. The kiss alone had proven how dangerous Tristan could be. “His fear was real, and I didn’t see a beast lurking beneath the surface when I used my gift to look at him.”

  “Did your skin crawl?” Everly asked.

  “No,” she said, then added, “but I didn’t feel comfortable around him. It might’ve been because I’d just gotten away from Tristan. When I’m stressed, my readings aren’t as reliable.”

  “Maybe you’re right about a third player being in town,” Everly said.

  “Maybe.”

  Everly tilted her dark head, sending black hair over one eye. “You said you didn’t see a beast, when you looked at Stone, but you obviously saw something that freaked you out.”

  “Smoke,” Izzy said. “Or maybe it was shadows. Whatever it was, it obscured his features for a moment. All I know for sure is that I didn’t see a monster.”

  Everly stared at her for a long time.

  “What?” Izzy asked.

  “Not sure yet,” Everly said.

  “Listen, I appreciate you letting me stay here last night, but more than anything I came to warn you to get out of town,” Izzy said.

  Everly glanced at her nails. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

  “It’s not safe,” Izzy said. “It is only a matter of time before they find me—and you.”

  Everly leveled her gaze on her. “I’m tired of running from them,” she said. “Aren’t you?”

  Yes, she was, but what other choice did she have?

  “Not sure if you noticed, but they’re everywhere,” Everly said, sounding as tired as Izzy felt. “If they wanted me dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Lately, I’m beginning to think that they aren’t all bad. I ran into one at the Dungeon the other night.”

  Izzy gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Everly shrugged. “I wasn’t sure how you’d handle the news.”

  Izzy touched her hand. “What happened?”

  Everly pulled back. “That’s just it. Nothing happened,” she said. “He introduced himself then bought me a drink. We chatted for a while, then he left without asking for my number.”

  Was it her imagination, or did Everly sound disappointed? “Oh God, not you, too,” Izzy said. “First Mindy, now you.”

  “What do you mean?” Everly crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You liked him.” She didn’t bother to hide the accusation in her voice.

  Everly’s mouth dropped open. “I did not. He was just some guy.”

  “Liar,” Izzy said. “Mindy said the same thing, then I had a vision about her and one of them. They were...let’s just say I never want to see my sister doing that again.” She stuck her tongue out and gagged.

  Everly scowled at her. “Well you don’t have to worry about that.” She sounded a little sad. “They don’t seem to be into Goth girls.” She grinned, flashing a set of vampire fangs, but the smile didn’t reach her brown eyes.

  Izzy scooted to the edge of the couch. “I’m sorry, Ev.”

 
; “Don’t be. I’m not,” she said.

  “If we were dealing with the usual kind of monsters, I wouldn’t be concerned,” Izzy said. “But this is something different. I can feel it.”

  “Me, too, but—” Everly clutched her head and her eyes widened in alarm. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  Izzy jumped to her feet and rushed across the small room. “What’s wrong?” She shook Everly’s shoulder, but she didn’t respond. “Everly!” she shouted. “Help!”

  * * * * *

  Tristan followed Isabel’s scent through the French Quarter, ignoring the steady stream of incense and spicy foods wafting on the air. He continued east, leaving the Quarter behind him.

  He’d found her easily enough last night. He just hoped that she was still in the same spot.

  Tristan glanced at the sun peeking through the space between houses.

  It was already warm, and the sun wasn’t even high in the sky yet. He should’ve grabbed Isabel last night, but he’d been exhausted. She had been, too.

  Her scent grew stronger as he approached a run-down mansion squatting on the corner of seen better days.

  White paint peeled from the side of the house, exposing the yellowed layers beneath. The walkway leading to the front door had cracked and split, thanks to gnarled tree roots, and threatened to swallow anyone foolish enough to traverse it. The building looked even worse in the daylight than it had the previous evening.

  Tristan inhaled. Isabel was in there somewhere. Her delicious scent perfumed the air. He trotted around to the back of the house and saw a clothesline sagging under the weight of too many items. The line had been stretched across the yard.

  He scanned the line. No way would he get into those jeans. No man should. But the sweats might fit. Tristan shifted, taking human form once more. He had just grabbed the sweats off the line when a plump woman carrying a laundry basket rounded the corner.

 

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