Tristan pulled over, easing the car to a stop and stepped out. Kira followed him across the grass and to a seat underneath a white willow tree whose leaves seemed to droop with Kira’s mood, stopping mere inches from the surface of the water. Tristan held a branch aside, letting Kira inside the privacy the tree offered until the two of them finally seemed completely alone and distanced from the world.
“What’s going on?” Tristan asked. Kira leaned against the trunk of the tree. Tristan was across from her with one leg outstretched and one knee bent with an elbow resting atop it.
She had only had an entire car ride of silence to think of what to say and how to begin, but still Kira was drawing a blank. “I,” she started and then stopped to stare down at her interlaced hands. They were gripped tightly in her lap and Kira eased her palms apart, stretching her sore fingers. She needed to relax, otherwise she might lose Tristan before she really had the chance to explain herself.
“Aldrich has a dungeon,” Kira said. It was as good a place to start as any.
“Kira, I told you I couldn’t hear anything. Do you think I would have lied about something like that?” He asked, hurt by her distrust.
“Of course not,” she said quickly, aching to reach out and comfort him. But Kira tried to stay focused. “I saw it, with my own eyes, but there was no way you could have heard anything,” Kira started the story and continued to tell Tristan everything she had discovered that morning—the hidden passage, the spy holes around the entire castle, the use of soundproof glass—until Kira got to the part about the prisoners. She told him that she healed the three conduits and the human, and then began to talk about the vampire she had also found locked up.
“Pavia,” he interjected when Kira started to talk about her powers. Tristan looked up, slightly shocked. The words seemed to surprise him as much as they surprised Kira after so much silence. “Her name is Pavia. Aldrich was looking for her even when I was with him,” he said, finishing the thought. And then Tristan fell silent again, without a word about anything that mattered, so Kira kept talking.
But she hesitated when she reached the part about the male Punisher’s words, about his accusation that she was falling into evil, that she was already turning. Kira couldn’t bring herself to say any of it out loud, so instead, Kira said that she got afraid Aldrich would find her and decided to run away to find Tristan, to tell him everything.
And then Kira too became silent, listening to the rustle of leaves and waiting for Tristan’s reaction.
“I was an idiot,” he said softly, his words almost lost to the wind. “A complete idiot to think that Aldrich could have changed so much.” He looked up at Kira with a pleading expression. “But you have to understand Kira, he has this way about him. I don’t know what it is, but it makes you want to forget all the bad things he’s done. My life with him was horrible, but there were some good things and that was what he made me remember.” A shudder passed through his body, visible even to Kira. “I don’t know how I could have forgotten all the horrible things he made me do.” Tristan stared down at his hands, frightened of the memories they held.
Kira hated herself at that moment. Tristan’s features were quickly clouding over with the same self-loathing that darkened his face the first time they had met. He was retreating back into that horrible place Kira had pulled him out of, and she couldn’t let him go back. After all, Kira was the one who in a way urged him into believing Aldrich. She was the one who lied, who let him believe that she wanted to become a vampire, that Aldrich could be their salvation. If she had only told him her doubts from the beginning, Tristan never would have fallen into Aldrich’s trap.
“Tristan,” Kira croaked, her voice tight with shame.
“No, Kira,” he said, looking up at her with a small spark of hope in his eyes. “We’ll just use Aldrich and then let him go. After he turns you, we can just leave. We’ll take your mother and run away. He’ll never catch us, not with three to one odds.” Tristan finished, excitement bubbling back up into face with the idea that not everything was lost.
“She’s not my mother,” Kira said hastily. The time for lying was past. She should have mentioned that fact from the beginning, but it had slipped her mind when she started talking about the dungeon.
Confusion brought Tristan’s brows together and he shook his head, running his hand through his hair. “Kira, how can you even say that?”
“I’m sorry, Tristan,” Kira said and reached for his hand. “I’m so stupid. I should have started with that. My real mother is dead—I’m sure of it. That woman is just a vampire that looks a heck of a lot like her.”
“Kira,” Tristan said sternly, “I know it might not be what you wanted, but she is your mother. I mean, I saw that photograph in your locket. She looks exactly like her.”
“I know,” Kira said gently, understanding his confusion. Kira had felt the same way at first, until she saw hatred stirring behind that woman’s eyes. “But I read Aldrich’s lips in that room, he said she was three hundred years old. She can’t be my mother.”
“I think you misunderstood what he was saying. It’s not that easy to read lips,” Tristan said, trying to comfort her. But Kira’s patience was wearing thin. She knew Tristan wouldn’t want to hear what she had to say, but he needed to understand.
“I didn’t misunderstand, Tristan. She is not my mother.”
“Then how does she know everything about you? How does she look exactly like your mom?” He asked, challenging her.
“I’m not sure,” Kira said truthfully, “but you need to trust me when I say that that woman is not and never was my mother.” Kira was breathing heavy when she finished talking. She hadn’t realized that her voice had molded to stone—harsh, rigid and demanding.
Tristan wasn’t moving. He was watching her. His eyes were staring straight into her own, unmoving and unblinking. Kira looked away, focusing on his hand tightly clenching his knee and the muscles in his arms that were taut, stuck in a flex. His hair moved in the breeze, catching Kira’s glance and drawing it back up to his face, which had become even paler than usual. His lips were drawn in a tight line, barely visible. A fleeting thought entered Kira’s mind. She may never kiss those lips again. And fear that that thought might be true made her meet his stare, which had gone from hardened and angry to hurt and betrayed.
“It was all a lie,” he whispered, waiting for her to deny it.
But she couldn’t. Kira couldn’t even move. She felt paralyzed.
“You never believed she was your mother. You never thought that a conduit could turn. You never…” he trailed off into silence, unable to finish the thought. His gaze flitted over her features, jumped from her hands to her lips, from her hair to her feet, but never back to her eyes. His mind was catapulting ahead of his senses, taking him right to the truth and Kira sat ridged, unable to provide the solace he was looking for. His eyes were becoming frantic, moving faster than Kira could process, fast enough to make them water, until they stopped, right on line with her heart.
It was absolutely silent. The branches on the tree stopped moving, the wind stopped churning, the ducks in the pond stopped quacking, the water stopped rippling and even Kira’s heart stopped beating.
Time ceased, as if it too understood that there would be no going back after this moment.
“You never wanted to turn,” Tristan said, squinting as if he couldn’t even believe what was coming out of his mouth, “you never wanted to stay with me.”
And the bubble around them burst.
But no, Kira realized, the world had never stopped, just her heart which was at that moment breaking apart like shattered glass, cutting her insides as it fell.
“I can explain,” she said weakly. Tristan stood up to leave and Kira scrambled to her feet. She jerked on his hand, stopping him.
“I love you, Tristan—”
“Clearly not enough,” he said, unable to turn around and meet her eyes.
“It’s not about that, Tristan
. I just, it’s me, what I am. I can’t give it up,” Kira mumbled, hoping he understood the confused and partial sentences coming out of her mouth.
“It’s not you, it’s me. Really?” He said, angrily turning around to meet her pleading stare. “I get it. You don’t want to become a monster, like me.” He looked down at his hands and savagely said, “A killer. A predator.”
“No,” Kira cried, clutching his face to keep him from looking away. He knocked her hands off and stepped back. She tugged on his shirt, needing to hold some part of him so she knew he wouldn’t disappear. “It’s nothing to do with not wanting be a vampire. I’m a conduit. I can’t give up my powers, my fire. It’s who I am and I can’t let it go. If I turned, Tristan, it wouldn’t be me turning. It would be someone else, someone dead inside. You wouldn’t love me like that and you know it.”
“But I would have,” he said sadly, the anger gone from his voice. He stopped pulling against her grip and looked down at her, holding her gaze to let his words sink in. “And ten minutes ago I would have said there was nothing you could ever do to make me feel differently, but I would have been wrong.”
Kira shrank from him, not wanting to hear the words tumbling from his lips. But now it was Tristan who was holding her, preventing her escape.
“If you had told me the truth, we could have figured something out. We could have worked together. I would have never let you walk away from me. But you lied. You dangled our future, all of my hopes and dreams, right in front of my eyes like some toy for me to helplessly chase, all so you could fool Aldrich. All so you could learn his plan. But what about me? Did you ever, for one second, stop and think about me?”
You were all I thought about, Kira wanted to say. But instead, deflated, she just whispered, “Tristan.”
Kira couldn’t deny the truth. She had known she was being mean and cruel to him, but she had done it anyway. Everything he was saying was true. Kira had known this was the inevitable end to her lie: that he would never forgive her. And even now that all the pieces had come crumbling apart, Kira wouldn’t change her actions.
She didn’t want to be a vampire. She needed to know Aldrich’s plan. And she needed Tristan’s help. Something in her gut told her that this was bigger than their relationship. It was bigger than their future.
“I know that no sorry could ever make up for what I’ve done, but I’ll say it anyway. I’m sorry, so so sorry, that I’ve hurt you. That was never what I wanted, but there was no other way to fool Aldrich, to stop him from killing both of us the second he thought we wanted to leave.” Tristan’s expression softened for a moment, as though he understood she was telling him the truth. But it passed and his features hardened against her again.
Kira stepped closer to Tristan and he didn’t move. She brushed his hair back with her hand, unable to fight the pain in her gut that it might be the last time she ran her fingers through his silky black locks. Her other hand came up to rest on his cheek, while her thumb ran slowly over his bottom lip. Reaching on her tippy-toes, Kira gave him one last soft kiss.
“I do love you, Tristan,” she said and this time he didn’t look away. “And I’m sorry that it may not be enough to keep us together when the whole world wants us apart. But this thing with Aldrich isn’t about that. There is a reason he wants to turn me. There is something he is planning that is bigger than you and me, and we need to figure out what that is. I need you. I can’t do it on my own.”
Tristan closed his eyes and let his face relax into her hand while he breathed deeply. He knew she was right, that Aldrich had something dangerous planned. And if Kira knew Tristan, no matter how hurt he was, he wouldn’t be able to walk away from doing the right thing.
A few excruciatingly silent seconds passed. Both of them cupped the other’s face, but neither moved, too afraid to break the momentary peace, the momentary reprieve from their breaking hearts, the momentary trip back to a time when three little words were bigger than everything else. They were holding on to the fleeting belief that maybe this wasn’t the end…
“Come on,” Tristan said finally, “we’ll figure out a plan on the way back.” He stepped away and paused before reaching for her hand.
“Tristan,” Kira sighed. His fingers stopped in mid-air, inches from Kira. He looked at her, with an expression mixed between daring and disbelief.
“Tristan, we need to go to London first,” Kira said hesitantly, “we need the conduits to help us take Aldrich down.”
“We need Luke, you mean,” he said bitterly, jerking his arm back to his side. Kira hated the snarl gathering on his lips.
“No, we need help. We need a plan,” Kira urged.
“Don’t bother denying it,” Tristan said and laughed darkly. “You know, I thought we might be able to get through this without talking about Luke, without mentioning him. But now I’m the idiot.” His voice was rising with his anger. “I heard him tell you he loved you outside of the ball. I’ve listened to your heart flutter every time he’s walked into a room after that, heard your breath catch every time you’ve met his eyes, heard—”
“There’s nothing going on between Luke and I,” Kira interrupted, reaching for Tristan. He moved away.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he spat, then turned and started walking away from Kira, swatting the leaves of the willow tree out of his way.
“Tristan!” Kira yelled and ran after him, but it was no use against his speed. His black hair had almost disappeared behind the trees on the road by the time Kira had stepped free of the willow. He paused for a moment before turning around to look at Kira one more time. He reached his hand up to his mouth, cupping the air around his lips.
“Do me a favor,” he yelled across the pond. Kira nodded. She would do anything to make things better between them.
“Please just,” the shadow of sadness flickered across his face before a hard exterior returned, “just don’t tell him we broke up.”
And with that, Tristan was gone.
Chapter Eleven
Broke up.
The phrase kept spinning through Kira’s mind as she continued the drive to London on her own. She mindlessly followed the directions on the GPS, barely registering the computerized voice as it navigated her through the twisting English countryside.
Broke up.
A honk screamed at her and Kira focused her eyes on the road again, blinking away the bleary film blocking her vision.
Broke up.
Kira loosened her hands on the wheel, feeling blisters start to rise on her palm. She tried to control her heaving breaths, tried to breathe in and out to the count of four.
Broke up.
Ahead, a sign told Kira she was less than ten kilometers from London—from Luke. But was she driving towards someone or away from someone else?
Broke up.
Kira readjusted in her seat.
“We broke up,” Kira whispered to herself. Finally saying it out load made it feel real, made her insides coil a little tighter and made the pain in her heart ache a little harder.
She was in shock, but yet she had seen it coming. As soon as Kira had started the lie, had chosen being a conduit over being with Tristan, she had known that the end of their relationship was coming, that there was no escaping this moment. But still, those two words sounded wrong.
Kira was a conduit. Tristan a vampire. People had been telling them for months that they couldn’t be together, that they were wrong for each other.
But they weren’t, Kira thought sadly. For the past few months, they had been exactly right for each other. Until Kira decided to change the rules. Until she, without realizing it, bumped Tristan down to number two on her list of priorities. Because, if Kira was being honest, as soon as she had stepped foot in Sonnyville, her mind had started shifting. Being a conduit started to become more and more important. Her powers not only strengthened, but wove themselves tightly around her heart. And only when she was faced with the possibility of losing them did Kira fully understand how mu
ch being a conduit meant to her.
Kira took one hand off the wheel and placed it over her chest, letting a string of light warm her heart. The heat was comforting. It felt like the very essence of life was pumping into her veins, strengthening and calming her.
And even though the flames couldn’t heal her pain at having lost Tristan, they reminded Kira why she had done it in the first place. She loved him. She really, truly did love him. And part of her would probably always ache for him. But another part of her was okay with what happened, okay with the loss.
“You have arrived at your destination.”
Kira looked at the GPS. The green arrow representing her car was blinking over a red and white target, announcing her arrival at Luke’s address.
Her heart seemed to stop and speed up at the same time.
What would she do when she saw him? Touching him, even just to hug him, seemed like a betrayal. Tristan’s last words echoed in her brain. She couldn’t blame him for the nasty tone and snide remark. He was hurt and angry, and was it possible he had been right?
Looking away from the small map, Kira parked the car and turned it off. Without the air conditioning on, the vehicle started to heat up, but she didn’t feel like moving.
Luke hadn’t seemed angry on the phone. Kira thought he might have even sounded excited. But what if he was lying? What if he was still angry with her about the airport? Kira didn’t know if she could handle another fight right now.
But Aldrich’s beady black eyes invaded her vision, and she opened the car door, stepping into the somewhat clean London air. This was all about finding out what Aldrich was up to—and after so much heartache, Kira almost wished Aldrich had an apocalyptic plan in the works. At least then, her actions would be justified, at least then it wouldn’t all have been in vain.
Blaze (Midnight Fire Series) Page 13
