by W.J. May
Epilogue
Kira’s eyes fluttered open, stinging from the unfamiliar sensation of light, and everything was blurry. Slowly, the blobs of color sharpened, becoming more defined, and Kira recognized her mother’s face. Her lips were moving. Kira tried to force her ears to register the sound. She felt as though she was underwater, that a barrier was catching the sound waves, until it finally broke.
"Kira, oh Kira, my baby," her mother was crying, holding her by the shoulder and searching for recognition in Kira’s eyes.
"Mom? What happened? Where am I?" Kira looked around at the sterile walls, the get well balloons in the corner, the beeping and blinking machines with tubes sticking into her arms, at her own hospital gown, and started to remember. She sat upright. "Where’s Luke? Is he all right? And Tristan?"
"Calm down, honey. Everything is fine." Her mother hugged Kira close and ran her fingers through Kira’s curly and probably knotty hair.
Images from that afternoon were flashing through Kira’s brain at a mile a minute: Luke running at Diana, Tristan drinking her blood, Diana laughing in her face, Jerome’s body mutilated on the ground, John burning to ash, Tristan whispering he loved her and Luke’s crumpled body on the ground.
It was all too much, she felt dizzy and leaned back against the pillows while her mother called in the doctors and sent for her father and sister. The rest of the her morning and afternoon was spent being pushed from room to room in a wheelchair and performing different tasks or enduring different procedures to make sure her neural functioning was completely normal. Chloe sat on her lap, enjoying the ride and making fun of the silly outfits and robes the doctors were wearing. When the procedures were finished, Kira forced her family to leave her side to go eat dinner, not allowing them to settle for hospital food. She asked them to bring back leftovers and let a nurse take over her care.
When the nurse finally rolled Kira back to her room, she had a visitor waiting: Tristan. Kira tried to stand to hug him, but he ran to her side almost before she had the chance to move. His arms encircled her, pulling her up to a standing position. His lips kissed her neck sweetly while he smelled her hair. She felt his mouth widen into a smile and she leaned back, staring into his soulful blue eyes that were searching hers for recognition and love. Kira grabbed his face, pulling him in for a kiss.
The nurse left in a hurry, with a little cough and an "excuse me," making Kira laugh against Tristan’s lips. She let her fingers sift through his silky black hair and pressed their foreheads together, sitting in the most comfortable silence she had ever experienced. They loved each other and it was obvious even without words.
"Sorry to break up the moment—"
"Luke!" Kira had turned around, reaching her arms out for a hug before he had the chance to finish. He hugged her around the waist, lifting her up off the ground before setting her down and helping her back onto her hospital bed. Tristan sat down beside her, grabbing her left hand, and Luke leaned on the mattress to her right.
Kira looked from one boy to the other: her two loves—one friendly and one romantic, but both meaning the world to her.
"So…what happened?" Kira looked over at Luke. "The last thing I remember is trying to heal you. I thought you’d died." She had to grin now, happy beyond belief that he was all right.
"You healed me, maybe even brought me back to life. But, you almost killed yourself," he looked down at her with concern clouding his features, "and when I sat up, Tristan was leaning over you, shouting your name, but you weren’t responding. We rushed you to the hospital and you’ve been in a coma ever since."
"How long?" Kira looked from one boy to the other.
"About three months," Tristan said and squeezed her hand in comfort. Kira let her body slacken in the cushions as she thought about that. It felt like she had been asleep for a while, like taking a really long nap, but three months? That was a long time.
"Are you guys friends yet?" She questioned, hoping three months of worrying about her might have done the trick. Luke and Tristan stared across her bed, sizing one another up, and finally Tristan replied, turning to Kira.
"I think we’ve come to an understanding."
Kira smiled. It was something. She asked about everything she had missed, about Emma and the boys, about school in general, and about her family. Tristan and Luke told her stories, all three of them smiling and laughing together, and Kira felt a warm glow start inside of her, not from power, but from pure happiness.
After a while, a doctor told them visiting hours were almost over for non-family members, and Kira knew her own family would be back from dinner soon.
"Before I go," Luke said, poking his head through the door he had just vacated, "I just wanted to let you know the council semi-forgave us, but they want you to go to visit Sonnyville with me…immediately. Okay, bye." Luke jumped out before Kira could ever mutter a protest. Coward, she thought. He knew she had no interest in the council, but she guessed seeing the conduit society could be interesting.
"What do you think?" She asked Tristan, liking how he rubbed her palm with his thumb while they held hands.
"It’s probably inevitable," he sighed. If she went to the conduit society, he would not be able to see her or visit her for a while.
"Well, there’s still plenty of time to figure it out." Kira pulled on his arm so he would lie down next to her. Seeing Luke had been great, but having some intimate moments with Tristan out of Luke’s watchful eye was amazing. Tristan let his fingers trail down her arm, dancing light circles on her soft skin, tickling her a little. Kira hugged her arm around his waist, turning to mold her body to his and resting her head on his chest to listen to the gentle thud of his heart.
Her thoughts shifted back to the fight. Kira couldn’t forget what Diana had taunted, that her real mother might still be alive. And she didn’t want to imagine what sort of hell she had been living in all these years, probably trapped in a dungeon, the feeding toy of an evil vampire. Kira silently vowed to hunt Diana down and get the truth. She would find her mother and she would free her mother, no matter how many vampires she had to kill along the way to do it.
As if sensing her dark thoughts, Tristan started to hum a tune quietly in her ear. Kira recognized the jazz song. He had made her listen to it in the car one time, promising Kira she would fall in love with the sounds. She didn’t love the song, but she loved Tristan and she loved the sound of his voice, a deep tenor that reminded her of rolling waves. Kira let her body relax and drift off into a deep sleep, content to push all thoughts of the future aside for the moment to lie safely in the arms of her lover.
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(Cover art created by Kaitlyn Davis from Flickr Creative Commons Attribution Licensed Images by Andrew Kuznetsov and Leland Francisco)
