by Tena Stetler
The Krystal Unicorn, that’s what they named their new age store, is doing very well. It’s nice. They stock a lot of herbs, crystals, books on a wide variety of topics and stuff.” He scrunched up his face, then scrubbed a hand over it.
“Willow told us she had met someone, but we’ve not been to visit yet. Figured we’d let her get settled and wait for an invitation.” He held Tristian’s gaze.
“Well, I couldn’t wait,” Tristian growled.
“Still too controlling, too overbearing. You’re going to have to let Angie go her own way, or you’re going to lose her,” Birch said.
Tristian huffed out a breath. “I know. I know. But she did return before I left. She showed me around the place, and we had a nice dinner. We agreed on ground rules that she expects me to abide by if I want to remain in her life. And I do, so I’ll do my best. But it’s hard. Given what happened to our parents.”
“That’s another thing I wanted to discuss with you. It’s time you tell her what really happened.”
Tristian shook his head vehemently. “No.”
“It could go a long way toward making her understand why you’ve been so tough on her. Let’s face it; yours is not a typical brother-sister relationship. And if you don’t come clean with her, I’m going to tell her. You’re risking that she’ll find out someday from someone other than us. Then there’ll be hell to pay for everyone who lied to her. I’m not willing to take that chance. She is as much a daughter to me as my Willow.” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the handle of the hoe, stared up at Tristian.
“I’ll give it consideration.”
“You better give it a hell of a lot more than that.”
“Are you threatening me?” Tristian asked.
“No, son, it’s a promise,” Birch said sharply.
“What are you two fussing about now?” A melodic voice floated on the breeze. Birch’s wife wandered over to stand beside her husband, her long black hair blowing in the breeze. She was barefooted as usual wearing worn jeans and a t-shirt, a pastel sweater tied around her shoulders.
“Good morning Freesia.” Tristian wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. “Nothing.” The sweater looked a lot like ones Angie favored.
“Nothing, my ass. Angie again?”
“Yes,” her husband confirmed.
Tristian glared at Birch. “He wants me to tell Angie what really happened to our parents. I’m not ready.”
“Well—she’s a grown woman, doesn’t need protection from the truth anymore. The question is not whether or not you’re ready. There’s a lot of things you should have told her. She is out in the world, on her own. What happens if she meets other creatures? What if they find out…? Never mind. I can see by the defiance in your eyes, nothing we say…” Anger flashed through Freesia’s eyes then softened.
“You’re right. I’ll figure out a way to tell her.”
“See that you do. The burden is wearing on you. We see it. You spend way too much time alone. Angie’s moved on with her life, and so should you. Find a woman that matters. Enjoy life.”
So someone can wipe out everyone that matters to me. Like they did to my parents? Hell no. His temper vibrated at the end of its tether. Out of respect, Tristian held his tongue. Those thoughts were better left unsaid.
Birch interrupted as if he knew what Tristian was thinking. “Come enjoy dinner with us tonight. You can tell us all about Willow’s Caleb. Did you like him?”
Tristian blew out a breath, his temper under control again. “You know, from the little I saw, he was a nice person. He treats Willow like she’s a princess.” Tristian paused for a few beats, considering. “I liked him okay, for being a man that’s dating a woman I consider my sister. He was okay. And the way she looks at him—” Tristian let out a low whistle.
“Well, that’s something,” Birch said a wide smile curving his lips. He clapped Tristian on the shoulder. “See you at dinner.” He took his wife’s hand, and they ambled back across the grass, where the occasional green blade appeared, promising spring was right around the corner.
Tristian spent the rest of the day in the gardens. Sean be damned. Working with the earth, watching things sprout and grow, always took the edge off. He put the garden tools away, showered, dressed in black jeans, black and red pull-over, polished his boots, and joined the Coppervales for dinner.
Chapter Three
Should She or Shouldn’t She—Probably Not the Best Idea in the World, But It Had to be Done
Hannah drove past his house every day, trying to convince herself to turn up the steep driveway to where his home perched high on the cliffs. It resembled a stone castle, less the moat. Sitting on a large piece of land overlooking the ocean to the front and bordering a lush forest to the back. Even in the early spring, you could tell the manicured lawns and garden had been well cared for during the growing season.
From rumors she’d heard around town, he was gone a lot and had a staff of employees to take care of things while he was away. The man was more a myth than reality. Reclusive—but he’d not seemed like that when she’d met him. Lonely is how she would describe him. But there was something else off about him, besides the lack of social skills. Her talents warned he wasn’t as he appeared—his true self was cloaked.
Why she cared what he thought, she would never know. But she did. Infatuation…that’s it. Plain and simple. Her parents would have an absolute fit. He wasn’t like them. And she could face serious consequences if… Oh, that was plain ridiculous. I’ve met him once, and it didn’t end well. All I want to do is apologize for the things said before he abruptly left. That’s all.
She stopped the car at the turn-off, flipped on the blinker, hesitated only a beat before turning the steering wheel and hitting the gas. No turning back now. Parked in front of his house was the same sports car he’d driven that night. Maybe he was getting ready to leave.
The fact she couldn’t read him worried her; she didn’t want to get involved with a—serial. Hannah shook off the thought. Inside the house, a shadow passed by the huge bay window. She held her breath. Am I really going to go through with this?
Walking up the steps to the house, she paused. Why would he leave such an expensive car sitting out when he had a four-car garage? She was stalling. Straightening her shoulders, she used the brass doorknocker. There was no answer. She knocked again.
The heavy oak door creaked open. Tristian stood shirtless, his abs rippled as he raised one muscular arm to lean on the doorframe. The skintight blue jeans hung low on his hips, and his hair tousled as if he’d not been awake long.
When he stared at her, with those huge blue-gray eyes, tingles careened up her spine. She covered her mouth in case drool pooled in the corners her mouth. He was one sexy male. She sucked in a breath and opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.
A brow arched, he peered questioningly at her then twisted to glance backward into the house. The sunlight streaming through the doorway accentuated several scars across his chest, rib area, and a healed slash across his back.
Who gets those kinds of battle scars and lives to tell the tale? Not going to ask. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. She shifted prepared to run down the stairs if things got weird.
The corner of his mouth curved up in an inviting sexy-as-hell grin. “Good morning, Hannah. What a surprise.” He paused for a couple beats staring down at her. “If you are done ogling me, is there something I can do for you?” His resounding voice flowed smooth and deep. “Or…
Panic set in, her brain wouldn’t engage, and her mouth took off on its own. “I…I didn’t mean to wake you. Only wanted to apologize for whatever I said the other night that pissed you off,” she stammered. God—Can I embarrass myself anymore? Her cheeks felt like they were on fire as she whirled away from him in an attempt to compose herself. When she turned around, he’d leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, crossed his arms over his sculptured chest, but his smoldering gaze over her body should have incinera
ted the clothes she was wearing.
Resting her hand on her hip she tilted her chin up, her gaze met his. “Like what you see?” Oh my god, where did that come from? Her hand flew to her mouth again. “Anyway, I’m sorry.” She turned and sprinted down the steps. By the time she reached her car, he was leaning nonchalantly against her driver’s side door. “How did you do that?”
“Practice.” He blinked at her. “Why don’t you come in and have a cup of coffee? Obviously, you are having caffeine withdrawals. I warmed up a couple of cinnamon rolls and apple fritters. Would you like one?” Not waiting for an answer, he sauntered up the steps.
Her knees went weak; she licked her lips.
“Coming?”
“No…I have to go,” she stammered. “I was on my way home after a run. But thanks for the invitation.”
“Suit yourself.” He strolled through the doorway and paused turned back to peer at her. “Sure?”
Her stomach growled loudly. Traitorous organ. “Maybe just a bite and a big cup of coffee.” She plodded up the stairs and followed him into the kitchen filled with the aroma of warm cinnamon and apples.
“I’ll be right back.” He sprinted up the stairs and returned dressed in a shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. “Sorry about that. Don’t want to be rude running around half naked.” Tristian whisked a pan of delicious looking treats from the oven and placed them on the counter.
Hannah eyed him. Still nearly half naked, but I like what I see and he’s proficient in the kitchen. Huh.
Reaching into the cupboard, he pulled out a large mug, poured it full of steaming coffee, and set it on the table in front of her. He jerked his chin toward a carved wooden chair, “Have a seat.”
She eased onto the chair as he deftly took the rolls from pan to plates, carried them to the table. The sunlight streamed through his kitchen window, as he crossed to the table.
“Anything else I can get for you?”
“No,” she said quietly, her mouthwatering. “Um—Where’d you get those? Never mind, none of my business.”
With his long fingers, he picked up a cinnamon roll and took a big bite, washed it down with a swig of coffee. “Now tell me again why you are on my doorstep at this time in the morning?”
“You left so abruptly the other night. I must have said something to upset you. Sometimes I say things before my brain processes the comment.”
“Nope. I had work to do and needed to get back to it. I enjoyed our conversation that evening.”
“Would you like to have dinner sometime?” she blurted.
“I’m tempted, but no. I’m not good at relationships. Married to my job. On call twenty-four-seven.” He took another drink of his coffee. “Most women don’t tolerate that type of schedule well, and I hate confrontations away from the job.”
“Oh. What do you do for a living?”
Tristian paused for a couple of beats. Took another bite of the roll and chewed. “Private security.” His tone of voice warned no further questions.
“Okay, well—thanks for the apple fritter. I’d better be on my way. If you change your mind, my cell phone number is on the card.” She flicked a business card toward him. It whirled and fluttered landing on the table beside him.
He picked it up, turned it over a couple times in his large hand. As he was about to return the card to her, she bolted across the kitchen, through the living room, and out the door.
How stupid could I be? He’s not interested. Just as well, he’s not one of us. However, when she glanced in her rearview mirror, he was standing in the doorway a smirk curving his full lips. There’s something about him.
****
A split second after he ambled toward the door, her vehicle wheels spun and left dust trails down his driveway as she drove away. Shrugging, he returned to the kitchen tossed the card in the trash can and finished eating. All the while, his gaze returning to that trash can. What the hell is my problem? Getting involved with a woman is not an option. Look how it ended with my dad. He shoved up from the table as his phone rang.
“What’s up boss?”
“Glad I caught you. We have a problem down south. Seems a rogue demon, werewolf, and vampire have joined forces. They’re intimidating political candidates in an attempt to rig the election outcome. The front runner is missing.”
“So why not send a mediation team?” Phone to his ear, Tristian walked over to the trash can and fished Hannah’s card out. Tucked it in a drawer by the sink.
“It’s beyond that point, according to Bobby and his team. He’s down there now.”
“Okay…On my way. What about the vamp? Want me to handle him too?” Gulping down the rest of his coffee, he washed the mug and set it in the dish drainer.
“No. I’ve already contacted the Vampire Council. Lady Rose is sending someone to clean up that mess.” A tap, tap, tap came over the phone.
Tristian chuckled to himself at hearing Bruce tap his pen against the glass top desk in his office. An indicator he didn’t like the situation at hand. “Got ya. I hate cleaning up ash all over everything.”
“Let me know how it goes.” Bruce gave him directions to the location.
“Of course. You’ll have my report immediately after the situation is neutralized.”
Tristian hung up and punched in Bobby’s number. It rang only once before he picked up.
“Figured I’d be hearing from you. On your way?”
“Yeah. Fill me in.”
“That frontrunner’s body was found a few minutes ago. Drained dry. The candidates are in hiding. A vamp seems to be running the show, but demons, changelings, and the werewolf have had words recently. It’s a powder keg.”
As Tristian talked on the phone, he sat at the computer and made airline reservations. “I’ll be there by nightfall. Made your team’s return reservations. Sending them to you via email. Should give us enough time for you to fill me in, and we go our separate ways.”
It was silent on the other end for a minute or two. “Got the email confirmation. See ya soon.”
Tristian swiped his finger across the screen and stuffed the phone in his pocket.
Chapter Four
Change is Difficult. But When Life Blindsides You Upside the Head, Maybe You Should Listen
Exhausted, Tristian finished the report and emailed it over his secure server to Bruce. Leaning back in his high-back black leather office chair, he rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms above his head.
Hannah had danced around the fringes of his mind on the plane ride back home. If that wasn’t enough, Birch’s words drifted through his dreams. Distractions were deadly in his business. When he closed his eyes, damn if she wasn’t there again.
This time, he heard Birch’s words whispered through his consciousness. Shit, Was it a faery spell? Naw, Birch wouldn’t do that to me. Or would he? After several minutes Tristian strode to the big bay window in his office, stood there with his hands tucked in the front pockets of his jeans. The man who was like a second father to him was working in the yard next door.
When Tristian picked up the phone off the desk and punched #1, he was still undecided.
Bruce answered on the first ring. “Tristian, good to hear from you. Just got the email, looks like things went off without a hitch.”
“Yeah, by the time I got there, the assassin from the Vampire Council, Stefan, had lit up the vamps involved. Bobby and his team had set a trap for the others, I came in, shot the werewolf with a poison dart, lobbed fireballs on the demons left as they scattered.” Tristian scrubbed his hand over his face. “Comparing my body count to Bobby’s, a couple underlings may have escaped, which could mean trouble down the line. But for now, the town is secure, the election…well…the creatures left their mark on it since the frontrunner is dead.”
“Not good.”
“No, but Bobby vetted the remaining candidates. None of them has ties to the magical community. We covered our tracks before leaving.”
“Having Bobby plant t
hat story about possible terrorists was brilliant,” Bruce said.
“It’s the nature of the times, a convenient scapegoat for the mortals.” Tristian raked his fingers through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Anything else going on?”
“Nope, checking on the rumblings you reported of a high-ranking demon looking for revenge, so far nothing. Sent emails out to other Overlords and Lady Rose, for good measure.”
“Yeah, it’s unnerving, my sources are afraid to talk. I’ve hit a brick wall. And that almost never happens.” He blew out a breath, wisps of blond hair feathered over his forehead as he shifted slightly.
“Tristian, what’s on your mind?”
“I’d like time off. Personal issues need to be resolved, without worrying about an assignment looming.”
“No problem—I’ll put other teams on alert. How much time do you want?”
“Couple of weeks, maybe three at the most. It’s been a long time…”
“You’ve got months of time built up, don’t worry about it. Are you all right? Anything you want to talk about?”
“I’m fine. It’s time to make a few changes.”
“Okay. With the demon situation simmering, I still want to follow protocol. Check in every couple of days. Will that work?”
“Sure. And I know if I forget you’ll send the cavalry out to check on me assuming the worst.”
“Wasn’t going to state the obvious. You’re the one who set the procedures in place. Enjoy your time off.”
“Thanks.” Tristian ended the call and yawned. He pushed up from the chair, ambled upstairs, showered, and fell into bed.
****
For the first time in years, Tristian woke up without an agenda. He tugged on a pair of worn jeans and sprinted downstairs to the kitchen where the first slice of sunlight beamed across the floor. The inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled his nostrils, he sighed, thankful for the automatic timer on the coffee maker.
Rummaging through the drawers, his gaze settled on the quarry. He snatched Hannah’s business card, flipped it over in his hand, and examined the handwritten phone number on the back. A cell number. He turned on his computer, using a special computer program, he traced the number to a local address. Was that her home address? Must be, the address indicated a location on the bluffs. Shadow Hawk Cyber’s building was located in the opposite direction on the northeast edge of town.
