With that mishap clarified, Victoria and Tristan continued on to the Château de Versailles where she quickly learned the monument was one of the most prestigious ones in the world of heritage. The building’s size alone was impressive but what really impressed her was the sheer loveliness of it. After stepping into the Royal Apartments, the Hall of Mirrors, and Chapel, she had fallen in love with the building and came to appreciate how beautifully they’d been restored.
After a quick stop at la Bonne Franquette for a bite to eat, they continued to several Boutiques where Tristan insisted she picked out the best of the best in spite of her many protests. Victoria argued she had her own money and had it not been for the fact that she’d left her belongings back in the cabin, she would have won the argument. Even when Tristan assured her he had a fortune and money was no object, Victoria still insisted on buying only what she needed. Tristan however, would hear nothing of it and even when she protested, he picked out items of clothing he thought she would like. It did surprise her how fast he’d come to learn her tastes, knowing exactly what styles she preferred, but the man had a knack for details. And it seemed, to her at least, that he was constantly studying her, making sure he knew exactly what she liked or preferred. Victoria was flattered to some degree. What woman didn’t like a man that paid that much attention?
Thus, she had a great time walking around the city, sightseeing contentedly, without a care in the world. Deep down she knew that there were still problems to resolve. At least, she couldn’t assume that just because she couldn’t be found, her father would forget about her or what she’d done to him, but Victoria opted for setting all concerns aside and focused on the inner beauty of the man accompanying her. Because of him, she felt invincible. She felt like a real person and not like the breeding machine her parents had made her out to be. She felt, for the first time in her life, like an actual woman. Human even.
Victoria was aware that nothing with Tristan would be normal. At least, not in the true sense of the word. They would never have children. He would never age, and even if at some point in the next six or seven hundred years she began to age somewhat, he would still look the same as he looked now. The same as he looked one thousand years ago, but she decided that she didn’t care. Nothing of their relationship was normal, anyway. He was a vampire and she was a werewolf. To the world they were enemies. To them, they were just another couple in love. If they could bypass any reserves they once had over their differences, everyone else would just have to, too.
“How’s dinner?” Tristan asked as he leaned in and planted a kiss on her right cheek before moving back in his chair. He held a glass of water in his right hand, which Victoria had come to know was the only other liquid their bodies tolerated and even then, to a certain extent only.
“It’s delicious,” she declared with a smile. “Rodolfo is an excellent cook.”
Rodolfo had once again prepared a delicious meal for her and although she had never tasted pasta before, mainly because most meals werewolves ate consisted of meat, meat, and more meat, Victoria found the special dish much to her liking.
“That he is.” He smiled. “The man can pretty much transform any dish into a work of art.”
“So I have come to see.” Having finished the last of her meal, Victoria pushed the plate aside, reached out for the glass of wine to her right, and took a long sip, before setting it back down on the table.
“What would you like to do tonight?” he asked as he watched her.
“I don’t know.” Victoria turned to him and tapped her chin with her index finger as she thought over the possibilities. “Do you have something in mind?”
“Indeed I do.” He winked at her. “How about a taste of Paris at night?”
Victoria beamed. “By the look on your face I would think you have a particular location in mind,” she teased.
He chuckled. “Actually, I have a particular interest in jazz music and I thought we could go check out this club I’ve heard about.”
Victoria nodded in approval. “That sounds like fun.”
“Good,” he said. “Then it’s settled.”
Somewhere in the background a phone rang but they both ignored.
“I’m going to secure a table for us while you get ready.” Tristan scampered to his feet and extended a hand for her.
“Sounds like a plan,” she said as she slipped her hand in his.
“Mr. Garland?” They both turned at the sound of Emelina’s voice.
“Yes?” Tristan drew Victoria to him, and planted a quick kiss on her forehead, before turning his attention back to Emelina.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but there is a rather urgent call for you,” she said.
“Tell them to call back later,” he said, dismissing the older woman.
“I did, but they insisted it’s imperative that they speak with you.”
“Fine.” Tristan turned to Victoria and smiled. “Go get ready, I’ll be right up.”
Although the unexpected call worried her, since Tristan didn’t appear concerned about it, she planted a quick peck on his pale lips before hurrying out of the dining room, up the stairs, down the hall, and to the bedroom they’d shared for the past few days.
Hopping into the shower, she allowed the warm water to wash away all concerns and focused instead on the man she had come to love with a passion. Realizing that they might be living a fantasy and that their time might be running on borrowed time, Victoria vowed to make the best of their time together.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tristan hung up the phone in the first floor library and just stood there for several minutes, gaping at the enormous bookcase that took up the entire wall in front of him. Life had a way of complicating even the slightest of things, and even his supernatural nature did not change that fact. Debating what he should do next, Tristan took in some air and held it in for a second or two before releasing it.
He’d known all along that the happiness he’d found with Victoria wouldn’t last. That sooner or later someone would track them down, and according to Madelia, Victor and his clan had practically threatened to decapitate him if his missing daughter wasn’t found alive. The man had been convinced that Tristan was somehow involved, and although there was reason for him to suspect Tristan, the fact that they’d tracked him down to his cave was concerning.
Even when Madelia had assured him that she hadn’t revealed his identity, nor that he had a house in Paris he called home from time to time, she had probed for answers. Being the intuitive woman that she was, Madelia was almost certain he was hiding something. However, he refused to say anything about the subject and assured her that things would be clarified as soon as possible.
How exactly was he going to accomplish that? He had no idea, but of one thing he was certain, he wasn’t about to relinquish Victoria any time soon. He’d rather give up his head than send her to suffer at her pack’s hands.
Tristan shook his head in frustration. His carelessness had taken the alpha straight to Madelia’s house, looking for any signs of his missing daughter, and a battle cry, disguised as a warning, had been clearly stated. He knew exactly what that meant. If the elders caught wind of this problem (that is—if they didn’t already know), they would confront him about it and then Victoria could face real danger.
Though he was now considered an elder, since he’d existed as a vampire for well over a thousand years, the elders were far older and yes, more powerful than he, which meant that he could put up a valiant fight but in the end, they could destroy him anyway and either kill Victoria, or send her back to her pack.
When he first discovered who Victoria really was, he hadn’t thought out the consequences all that much. After all, he was too taken by the news of her impending mating to care, but now that the gravity of the situation had had time to sink in, he realized having what he wanted the most in the world would never come easy. In order to keep her he would probably have to stain his hands with blood. There was no doubt now tha
t the werewolves were out and about; looking to abolish whatever crossed their paths, even if that meant taking every vampire down in the process.
He cursed softly, irritated by the fact that he would have to travel back home and figure out how to fix things, without Victoria’s knowledge, and of course, without sacrificing her. He couldn’t risk taking her along for the ride. Not because he feared he couldn’t protect her from those who would most certainly oppose their mating, but because the Bonvalet pack—her pack—would look for any excuse to take her from him. And there was little doubt in his mind that once they had her within arm’s reach, they would take her back to face the consequences for breaking one of the most sacred rules of their species.
Tristan sighed heavily. Thoughts of Victoria and the past few days they’d spent together came back in a flood of memories. She was his now, and he would be damned if he let anyone take her away from him. That would be the day.
Most of that morning for them had been vigorous sightseeing, walks along some of the most prestigious streets Paris had to offer, and a shopping spree which ultimately filled half his closet with women’s clothing, much to her disapproval. After all, she couldn’t walk around naked all the time. In the privacy of their bedroom yes, but she would get bored of being locked inside the bedroom every day.
During their excursion, they had spent the day talking about their lives. Well, mostly hers because for the past eighty years he hadn’t done much of anything, but it felt good to have someone to talk to and listen to. Victoria was easy to talk to and she was always willing to strike up a conversation. The world excited her and if she had a question lingering in the back of her mind she was quick to ask without fearing being reprimanded. Tristan found, much to his amazement, that he actually enjoying sharing with her what he’d come to learn over his long existence.
He hadn’t cared about his extensive knowledge all that much before because he had no one to share it with, but with her arrival, he was more than glad to share, talk, and most importantly, listen. Life seemed to have meaning now that he had someone by his side. The sun was brighter, the nights shorter, and immortality less soul consuming.
Victoria was pleasant to be around; she managed to ease a smile out of him often, which was a rarity for him. He found himself less apprehensive and a lot more open with her. In retrospect, he was fascinated by her. He loved everything about her, the way she surrendered heart and soul to him the most. Not only was he physically drawn to her, but he found her personality to be refreshing and invigorating. There was nothing about her disliked. In fact, every second that ticked by brought them closer together, and he was more certain now than ever that they were meant for each other.
Of course, he had expected complications to come. He just wasn’t expecting things to start going south so soon. He would have liked to have more time with her, living peacefully in their safe heaven without anything marring their happiness, but alas, a complication had arisen and if he didn’t show his face, others would pay for his decision to take a werewolf for a wife.
The biggest hurdle to jump over now was what to say to Victoria. He couldn’t just leave without saying why and hiding it from her would be close to impossible. She would suspect something wasn’t right, hell, she knew that already.
Even as he marched up the stairs and sauntered down the hall to his bedroom, he could hear her heart accelerating. Her preternatural senses telling her that all was not well; their bond pointing out that something was amiss with her mate. Tristan reached the door, turned the knob, and walked inside. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of his beautiful mate, sitting on the chair next to the oversized window, staring up at him with concern filled eyes.
“What’s wrong, Tristan?” Her long red hair was pinned back at the sides of her head by two sapphire covered, butterfly shaped hair combs which matched the blue of her blouse. “I’m sensing these strange vibes from you.”
What was the point of lying? She could already tell something was wrong.
“That was Madelia on the phone.”
She frowned. “Your ex-lover?”
“Yes,” he reluctantly replied.
“What did she want?”
“Your father visited her house, looking for me.”
Victoria shot out of the seat, her eyes widening as she stared at him. “What? But how did he find out about us?”
“I don’t think he knows. According to Madelia, the Trackers picked up on your scent and since you and I bumped into each other more than once in the woods…” his voice trailed off.
“You mean, he thinks you killed me?” she asked.
“Or at the very least, thinks that I’m responsible for your disappearance,” he added. “He threatened to rip my head off.”
Victoria flinched as if he’d reached out and slapped her. “No. He doesn’t know who you are. Does he?”
Tristan shook his head. “No. Madelia didn’t tell him anything.”
“Are you sure? Can we trust her?”
“She might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she’s not the type of person who would throw a vampire under a bus, no matter what.” Which was something he himself admired about her. Madelia might be difficult to deal with, but she would never betray her own kind.
“So, what are we going to do?” Victoria asked.
“We’re not going to do anything,” he said, to which she glowered. “I’m going back to face your father.”
“Absolutely not,” she cried. “If you go then I’m coming.” She reached out for a black leather jacket she’d draped over the seat she had been sitting on and made to put it on but his next words stopped her.
He shook his head vehemently. “No. I’m going alone.”
She glanced up, confused.
“I don’t want you to come.” He took the jacket from her, avoiding gazing at her directly.
“What? Why not?”
“Victoria…” He tossed the jacket aside and grabbed her hands in his. “I don’t think you should come.”
“What’re you saying exactly?” She battled to keep the tears that had been slowly accumulating from spilling.
“I think you should lay low for now,” he insisted.
For the longest time she just stood there and stared at him, a look of disbelief marring her beautiful features.
“This is about us, isn’t it?” When he didn’t deny it, she said, “There is nothing my father can do now, Tristan. We’re mated and he can’t break that bond.”
“Do you really think your father won’t try?”
For the first time since he turned into a vampire, Tristan felt human again. Human emotions, long since forgotten, came back in invisible waves of sentiments. Dread, anxiety, concern, apprehension, and above all, fear, clung to his shoulders like a heavy cloak. All that he ever loved once was taken from him in a bloody nightmare. It took him well over a thousand years to find someone he cared for more than he did his own existence and he wasn’t about to put her in a position where she would end up badly hurt or worse, dead.
“He can certainly try to break me, into little pieces.” But that wasn’t even a concern for him. He only cared about Victoria. Nothing else, not even his impending demise, worried him. He’d been face to face with death so many times it no longer scared him. Hell, wasn’t he death walking on two legs, anyway? A dead body, a trapped soul, immortality as a blood drinking demon, cursed. That’s what he was and would always be. But Victoria was still very much alive, untainted by death, uncorrupted by evil, and he wanted to keep her that way.
She puckered her brow. “I won’t let that happen.”
“Neither of us is a match for a pack of werewolves. For a few of them yes, but not for an entire clan,” he argued, grabbing her hands and squeezing them softly as he looked down into her beautiful blue eyes.
“We can’t hide forever. Sooner or later someone is going to find out about us, and what will happen then? Are we going to run away and hide for all eternity? Because let me tell you s
omething, Tristan, forever is a long time. I don’t plan to keep hiding until by some miracle of God our relationship is accepted by both our kinds.” Victoria wiggled her hands free of his, and went over to the bed where she reached for her jacket and slipped it on. “Maybe you need more time to think about us.”
He marched over to her, grabbed a hold of her shoulders and spun her around to face him.
“I’m mated to you until the end. That will never change but I don’t think you understand—”
“We did nothing wrong!” Her voice rose an octave as she pinned him down with a stare.
“That’s far from the point.” He reached out for her but she stepped back.
“How?”
“I won’t risk your life. I care more about you than I do about myself and I won’t lose you, Victoria.” Heavy emotion underlined each of his words and for the first time since they met, he showed her that deep down, he was a broken hearted man looking to keep what he loved the most.
“I’m not going to hide.” Victoria refused to back down. “Don’t ask me to.”
Tristan sighed, releasing a quick rush of air as she gazed at his lovely bride. “I’m not asking you to. I just…I want you alive, and well, protected.”
He walked over to the same chair she was sitting on when he first entered the room. Feeling deflated by the fear threatening to consume him and by her strong will, Tristan sat down and watched her beautiful face.
“When my parents were killed I could do nothing to protect them. I had to watch as our enemy slaughtered them. My entire family was taken from me that day.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” She ambled over to him and straddled his thighs. “You were bound and unable to help them. This is different.” She kissed him. “Everything will be well this time.”
“Say I go face your father and I tell him I had nothing to do with your disappearance. What then?” he suggested. He hated lying, but he also knew that this time he didn’t really have a choice. Telling the truth would mean certain death for them both and he wasn’t willing to risk her life.
Fierce Awakenings Page 21
