“How are you holding up?” a soft voice from behind me asked.
I twisted around and saw Samara, looking tall and elegant. Her skin was milky white, her hair nearly colorless. It always amazed me how she looked like an angel. Only the halo was missing.
“I’m...a bit sore,” I admitted.
“Well, I’m glad we were still here when it happened.” She came round and sat on the corner of the couch, making it easier to look at her.
Kyle wandered into the room and stood behind Samara, dropping his hands onto her shoulders.
“Are you telling stories?” Kyle asked her.
“No, but that’s a good idea.” She smiled up at him and then looked back at me. “Have they told you how they became friends?”
“No. Tristan seems to get away with not telling me much.” I glanced at him with a mock glare. I swore his face flushed and he gave a small cough, ducking his head. “I think I’d love to hear this story.”
Kyle chuckled at Tristan’s embarrassment. “Why don’t you tell it, Tristan? That way you can skip over the gushing parts.”
Tristan postured up with a fake growl. “No, no, this is your story. I’ll just keep it straight.”
I smiled at their playfulness.
“It was west of here just outside Telluride.”
Tristan nodded. “Yeah, but-”
“Ah-ah-ah, my story.” Kyle grinned crookedly. “Anyways, I was out hiking when Tristan stumbled across my path. He was with a group of other kids from town on a camping trip, but managed to get lost. When his horse threw him-”
“I couldn’t help that he’d been spooked by a snake.”
“Yeah, but then you started walking in the wrong direction!”
“Get on with it,” Tristan said.
“Well, he’s walking around the mountain, entirely oblivious to the rattling going on around him.” Kyle shook his head as if even now he couldn’t believe it.
“Hey, in my defense I was only fourteen.”
“I guess. Anyways, I see him and stupidly go over to offer some of my extremely good advice on being careful about walking off the paths. So I fill him in on his stupidity and after he brushes me off, this massive rattlesnake, must have been a good six feet-”
“Try two,” Tristan corrected him.
“Hey, I thought this was my story? Like I said, six feet. This snake lunges for Tristan, but I jump in front of him and it sinks its teeth into me. I could actually feel the venom pumping into me. Tristan grabbed the thing and threw it at least twenty feet.
“I was pretty freaked out about everything that happened and Tristan managed to get me back to his campsite and his dad fixed me up. I don’t know what I would have done if Tristan hadn’t helped me out.”
Tristan reached one hand out and Kyle meet it midair, clasped in a show of brotherhood. “You’ve covered my ass enough times to make up for it,” he said laughing.
“Men,” Samara sighed, rolling her eyes.
“I thought you guys went to school together?” I glanced between the two guys.
“Nah.” Kyle shook his head. “I lived with my mom over in Ouray until I finished school, then I moved here.”
“How did you and Samara meet?” I asked him.
“Just after Kyle moved here, I came to visit my aunt and we ran into each other at the diner.” She smiled at Kyle and what I saw in their eyes was what I wanted. I glanced at Tristan and saw him watching me. Maybe I finally had a chance at that.
A little later, Samara and Kyle headed home and Tristan walked me up to my room. His kiss was more passionate than it had been earlier in the evening and I wondered if it was fear I tasted on his lips. He had stayed so calm that I hadn’t considered he might have shared some of the anxiety I’d felt. I leaned into him trying to return some of the comfort he had given me.
“Hey, hey, hey, break it up you two.” Lisa’s voice tore us apart. “I don’t need to go to sleep with that mental picture. I’ll be having naughty dreams for a week.”
“And you’re complaining?” Tristan joked.
She laughed, but didn’t leave, obviously waiting for him to go. He shot her a teasingly resentful look and said goodnight. Lisa and I watched him until he turned the corner, disappearing from our view.
“Thanks a lot,” I said, a little miffed that she’d interrupted.
“I don’t want you to get hurt, Janie. And Tristan needs to tell you a few things before you get any more involved.” She opened her door, then glanced back at me. “Just be careful, alright?”
“Okay,” I said, hoping to pacify her but with no intention of stepping back from Tristan.
“I’m serious. Rachel’s right about one thing. You do deserve to know everything.”
She closed her door before I could ask her about that. I looked down the hallway where Tristan disappeared; debating whether I should try to talk to him now, but the idea of getting caught sneaking around the halls trying to find my boyfriend’s room was too embarrassing.
The sheets were cool on my skin. The warmth seeped from my body, leaving me chilled and tense. Lisa’s words about Rachel and how Tristan was still hiding something from me filled my thoughts. When he and I first started dating, I had been determined to know what exactly it was that he wasn’t telling me. Yet as the days turned to weeks, I’d pushed it to the back of my mind. I’d been content to float along in blissful ignorance. Tomorrow would be soon enough to ask for those answers.
My eyes drifted closed from sheer exhaustion, and images of Tristan in the car flashed behind my eyelids. It seemed so real, too real to have been a figment of my imagination. Yet, how else was it possible that he didn’t have even a single scratch on him?
I curled up on my side and tried my relaxation techniques, in, out, in, out. Each time I was almost asleep, a deep shiver would awaken me, a sudden jolt of confusion about time and place overwhelming me. Gradually, the heaviness of my lids lulled me asleep.
He’s alone, sunlight glinting off his pale fur. No, it’s hair. My mother is nowhere to be seen. The cabin is too far to run to with him this close. I can see the frosted green of his eyes, the pale freckles spotting his skin; hear his quickened breathing.
“Who are you?” I demand.
“Who are you?” he echoes, a slight accent tinting his words.
I stare at him and refuse to answer.
“Who are you?” he asks again. “Who are you?”
“What do you want? Why are you here?” This is my dream, shouldn’t I be the one asking questions?
“Are you The One?” he asks.
“What one?”
“Are you The One we seek?”
“No,” I say. “No.”
I don’t see him move, but he suddenly clenches my hair in his fist, tilting my face roughly into the blinding sunlight that filters into the clearing. He looks at my hair, and then stares, not into my eyes, but at them, as if trying to decide if they are what he was looking for. His breath smells of rotting meat and I gag, trying to twist my head to the side.
“You are.” He sounds sure and surprised, as if he hadn’t expected it, but there is an undertone of fear as well, fear of what he thinks I am.
He releases my hair and shoves me away as if I burn his hands. I stumble over something large and slightly soft on the ground. I look down and see Tristan laying there, his eyes staring sightlessly up at the cloudless sky. Blood seeps from a cut on his forehead, a reflection of the gash I’d seen in the car, his face riddled with the small pieces of shattered glass.
I fall to the ground beside him, sheltering him with my body, protecting him from the danger of the man. As I guard him, I feel him move beneath me, gripping my neck and pulling me closer, until his lips are flush with mine. The faint brush of his breath is moist against my skin, his eyes are the darkest of blues, the pupils so enlarged they nearly encompass his irises. Slowly he lifts his head to kiss me, pulling the air from my lungs, leaving them starving in pain. Numbness immobilizes me.
My eyes opened, but I
didn’t move. Consciousness didn’t return any sensation to my body, just my mind. I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed. God, was this from the accident? One of those freak things where my damaged tissues swelled up to hold my broken neck together and now I was lying here, my neck broken, unable to get help?
My door burst open and I shot up in bed. Elation over my own stupid paranoia had me laughing as Tristan rushed to the bedside.
“What happened? I heard you scream.”
“Just a nightmare,” I said. “It was nothing, just a bad dream.” I knew that wasn’t true, but said it anyways. Telling him I had frequent hallucinations and nightmares about my psychotic mother and her boyfriend trying to kill me just seemed a bit TMI.
“What happened? Who was in it?” he questioned quietly.
“You, me, some man.”
“Who was he?”
“I don’t know. Just some guy I keep seeing in my dreams.”
“Should I be jealous?” The amusement seemed forced, covering some underlining concern.
I laughed at the idea of this gorgeous guy being jealous over me. “Definitely not. He’s much older, tall and skinny; and he’s got a large crooked nose. Not attractive in the least.”
He went still at my description. “Was this the first time you’ve dreamed of him?”
“No, I’ve seen him a few times, but this time it was different.” Especially since I’d been awake the last few times. “Usually he’s with my mother, following her lead, waiting for her to take control. This time he was alone and he spoke to me.”
“What did he say?” He moved closer, my hands clenched between his. He was taking this pretty seriously for a dream.
“He didn’t really say anything, he just asked who I was and if I was The One.” I replied.
“What did you say?”
“No.” I watched him slump in relief. “It was just a dream.”
“Of course, I was just…I mean…” I never heard Tristan at a loss for words. In the few weeks I’d known him, I’d figured out that when he wanted to change topics, he did it immediately, with a directness that showed his quick thought process. Now, he stumbled over explaining his interest in a nightmare.
“What did I do? In the dream I mean.” he asked, evading my question.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Sorry, you were dead.” He looked horrified, so I quickly added, “Well, until I kissed you.”
“And? What then?”
I thought for a moment, things were beginning to blur, the end of the dream hazy. “You kissed me.”
“You said that already.” He stared at me waiting for me to continue.
“You were sucking the life out of me,” I murmured as the recollection of pain cut through the fog that slowly seeped over my memory of the dream. “Then I woke up.”
He didn’t say anything, just sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the space between him and the door. The silence was uncomfortable and for the first time since we’d started dating, I felt the need to fill that silence.
“What time is it?” I asked trying to break him out of his reverie.
“What? Oh, it’s almost eight.” He stood and paced across the room, maybe in an attempt to regain focus. “You might want to get up anyways. Justin’s already had a call from his Dad.”
With the truck totaled from the accident, we piled into Tristan’s car. Tristan and I sat up front while Seth and Justin were in the back.
“Hey man, did you ever call the cops? Do you think the guy’s vehicle would have made it back to town?” Justin asked.
No one replied, but I noticed Seth and Tristan sharing a look in the rear view mirror.
“Possibly,” Tristan mumbled. “We’ll check with the shop in town.”
My eyes narrowed as I studied him. He was lying. He mumbled as if he didn’t want to hear himself lie. He flipped on the stereo, turning the volume up to a level that prevented any conversation. We pulled into the driveway just as Tim came out onto the porch. Justin climbed out with our plastic bags of dirty clothing. I got out a bit slower, dreading Tim’s inevitable over reaction.
“Hey, what happened to your leg?” he asked Justin, who was still nursing a slightly swollen ankle. We all glanced at each other, wondering who was going to say something first.
Finally, Tristan answered, “We had a bit of an accident on the way back from the movies. Have you met my brother Seth? ”
He spoke quickly, like he hoped Tim wouldn’t have a chance to comprehend what had been said. But Tim had remarkably selective parental hearing. Every word after accident had probably gone in one ear and out the other.
“What do you mean accident?” Tim rushed towards Justin and me where we pressed against the car. “Were you hurt? Why didn’t you come home? Why didn’t you tell me last night when you called?”
“Dad, chill,” Justin said uselessly as Tim continued firing questions. “Dad!” he eventually shouted. “We’re fine, we weren’t hurt and I didn’t tell you last night because I didn’t want you to worry over nothing.”
“Justin, you’re limping. That’s not nothing.”
“I’m fine. I twisted my ankle after the accident.”
Tim pulled me toward him in a vicious bear hug with him and Justin that threatened to finish the job the crash had started.
“Tim, seriously we’re all okay.” I had known he would freak, and his reaction only proved that not telling him over the phone had been the right decision.
“Dad,” Justin said. “It really was nothing.”
Nothing. Tristan’s face after the crash flashed through my mind, the horrible gash, the blood that had covered the two of us. Nothing except I was going crazier than I’d originally thought.
Chapter 13
I watched as Tristan crossed from the door to the booth where I waited in Trail’s End. The image of him sitting in the car, bleeding and cut hadn’t faded. Two weeks after the accident, it was still there haunting my dreams, lingering in my mind, surfacing every time I looked at him. I wanted to ask him about it, but something held me back and I wasn’t sure if it was fear of it being real or just another of my delusion.
“We’re going to the cabin this weekend,” Tristan told me as he sat down next to me. The diner was nearly full with the lunchtime crowd and we’d been lucky to get a seat.
“We are?” That was news to me.
“Yeah, I’ve already cleared it with Tim. It’s a bunch of us going.” He opened a menu for me. “Justin’s coming, too. That’s what convinced Tim.” He sounded as though I should have been proud of his easy manipulation of Tim’s weak parenting skills.
Had it only been seven weeks since I’d first met him? Each day I spent with him was beyond anything I’d ever imagined. Not that he was perfect. I wasn’t that blind. He had a habit of not finishing sentences or conversations if he didn’t like the way they were going. And he was bossy.
“Thanks for asking, but I think I have plans.” I said it with a teasing smile. I didn’t, but still, I liked being asked before my life was arranged.
He looked surprised for a moment, until understanding dawned. He relaxed and gave a self-conscious half-smile. “Would you like to go to the cabin with me this weekend? A bunch of people are going, Seth, Kyle and Lisa. And my parents really want to meet you.”
He looked so rueful that I couldn’t stay angry. “I’d love to.” I planted a quick kiss on his lips.
“Tristan, this has got to stop,” the waitress said as she came up to the table to take our order. “Our onion supplier is complaining at the lack of orders.”
“Hey, don’t look at me,” he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Janie doesn’t like onions.”
“Oh, don’t blame this on me. You can have onions whenever you want.”
“Yeah, but then I miss out on something better.” He placed a quick peck on my lips as I rolled my eyes.
Just after placing our orders, Bryce and Kyle came in and sat down across from
us. Tristan and Kyle immediately began talking about hiking and whether we’d get any rain during the trip. I watched Kyle and Tristan for a moment wishing I understood the bond they had. I’d asked Tristan about it once and he’d said Kyle was the person he could always trust to do what was right.
A creeping sensation of being watched distracted me from my thoughts. Glancing away from Tristan and Kyle, I met Bryce’s gaze. I smiled hesitantly, not sure what to say. Bryce had a way of unnerving me, not quite creepy, but enough to make me uncomfortable.
“So, are you liking Everod yet?” he asked as Dana delivered our food.
“Yeah, it’s growing on me.”
His face relaxed and I wondered if his stares had more to do with being nervous than being a creep. “Are you planning on sticking around after summer?”
“I...I guess.” Honestly, the thought of leaving after hadn’t even crossed my mind since Tristan took me to The Grounds that first time.
“Are you going to the cabin this weekend?”
“Yep.” I took a big bite of my sandwich.
“Good. I think you’ll find it interesting.” There was an implication to his words, and I wasn’t sure where it was pointing.
“Interesting?”
He gave a smirk looking at Tristan, who had turned to listen to our conversation.
“Give it up, Bryce.”
“What? I’m just talking with her.”
“I know what you’re doing and it won’t work,” Tristan snapped.
“So, now I can’t even talk to her?” Bryce threw his burger onto his plate, fries scattered across the table. “Afraid she’ll figure out what we really are?”
Tristan’s arm flew towards him. He gripped Bryce’s shirt, jerking him up and over until Bryce stretched across the table. His other hand was knotted, poised to deliver a pounding. All I could do was stare with horrified fascination. Their faces contorted with rage and Tristan’s fist shook.
Kyle gripped Tristan’s arm. “Chill, man. You know where this is coming from. Let it go.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.
Tristan relaxed his hold on Bryce and gave him a shove back. Bryce smoothed his shirt down and, keeping his eyes on Tristan, pushed Kyle out of the booth. “Move. I’m sick of this crap. You can suck it, Tristan. I’ve got better things to do than watch you play around with a new blood. If you think she’s any different, you’re wrong.”
Waken (The Woods of Everod Book 1) Page 11
