Kristie Cook - Purpose

I smiled to myself. “Well, I forgive you for that, too. Since it’s also in my best interest.”

“Thank you,” he murmured. His kisses behind my ear and the lighter feeling in the air told me he no longer mulled over this afternoon’s events. Happy to move beyond the gloom, I trained my thoughts on the blaze over the water.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked, turning sideways to see his face.

“You can always ask,” he teased, pulling out one of my old lines, from when we first met. I smiled at the memory…and at the fact that his attitude had genuinely improved.

“What is it with you and sunsets? You never told me why you like them so much.”

“Ah.” He shrugged. “They’re just beautiful, aren’t they? The perfect piece of art, each one unique.”

“That’s it?” I’d always thought there was something more to it—he’d always made such a point of watching them.

“Well…not exactly. I like to watch the sunrises, too, but you’re never awake for them.” He paused. “See, the vamps may be able to come out in the day, but they prefer the night and the cover of darkness. All the Daemoni do. Humans fear the unknown and anything beyond the light is unknown. The Daemoni feed off that fear. I once lived for the night, too, but now I appreciate the light and all its various forms. The colors it produces that can’t be seen in its absence. The way it bounces off the clouds and the water when it’s on the horizon. Sunsets are a little extra special because they mark another day I’ve been able to live in the light. They only mean anything when I’m with you, though.”

He glanced down at me, then quickly looked away, as if embarrassed by this secret he’d just divulged. The pinks and purples and golds—so many more than I’d ever noticed before—swam out of my vision as I took in an even more precious sight. If at all possible, he appeared even more exquisite now than he’d ever been before. And, if at all possible, I loved him more this moment than ever before.

I took his face in my hands and kissed him. It became the first passionate kiss we’d had since the Ang’dora. It blew me away. His lips felt even softer and smoother than they had last night, like silk against mine. I caressed my hands over his face, feeling the new smoothness, and slid them back, twisting them into his hair and pulling him closer. I separated my lips and his tangy-sweetness tasted delicious.

He lay me down in the sand, cradling my head in the crook of his arm, and moved his mouth along my jaw, down my neck and across my shoulder and then followed the path back up again. The electric current underneath my skin charged more intensely than ever and felt more exciting than our first touches. His free hand trailed down my side, over my hip and around my thigh. He slid it under the bottom of my dress, up along the inside of my leg. I shuddered with overwhelming excitement as his fingers trailed along the edge of my panties.

“This is unbelievable,” I breathed.

“Mmm…it’s a good start,” he replied, still kissing me. Then he picked me up and carried me into the house, our lips moving together the whole way. The results of the Ang’dora magnified every sensation of making love to him by at least one hundred times compared to before. I lost any control I’d ever had. And he did, too…but not in the way that made his eyes blaze. In a good way. A blissful way.

I knew because when I lost control, the wall in my mind fell and I could hear his thoughts. And I felt the sensations and experienced the excitement for both of us. Overcome with euphoria, my mind exploded and reached into his, sharing what I felt.

“Oh…Lex,” he moaned pleasurably as we both flew over the edge.

I apologized later, as we lay on the floor, the bed in shambles again. “Sorry for getting into your head. I couldn’t help it.”

He grinned widely, the gold flecks in his eyes dancing. “Don’t be sorry. That was…mind blowing.”

I slept peacefully—for the first time in over seven years, I didn’t have a single dream.

We spent the next two days putting our affairs in order, as Rina had put it. Tristan used my computer to move money around our various accounts. Owen met Julia, who delivered identification for him and for the new A.K. Emerson-Wells. We also worked on my powers.

By our last day there, I could move objects—even Tristan—with my mind, control my electrical charge at different levels of power and flash without falling. We practiced flashing together, too, Tristan holding my hand and leading me. I found this even more disorienting than flashing by myself, because I went with him but didn’t know where. The “destination” I had to concentrate on was simply “wherever Tristan is.” We must have done it fifty times before I could land without falling, Owen laughing at me every time. Although I learned to sense Tristan’s flash trail, the guys decided against my learning how to follow it yet. Apparently, following a trail was more difficult than I had time to practice.

We also searched for my pendant. We never found it.

Our flight from Miami to London, where we would connect to Athens, left in the afternoon of the third day. My emotions were mixed as we prepared to leave the beach house, where so much had happened to me.

“Will we ever be able to return?” I asked Tristan.

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

“Me, too,” I said with a sigh.

From my honeymoon to grieving to the Ang’dora, this house had seen the best and worst of me. It would forever hold a special place in my heart. We shared one final kiss in our house and then Tristan looked down at me and smiled.

“Ready to go home?” he asked.

I felt sad to leave but excited for what was to come, even with the danger we could face on the way. “I guess. Let’s do it.”

He took my hand and we walked down the driveway, into the brush and flashed. I’d become accustomed to the absence of air by now, but I still sucked in a huge breath when we appeared, a natural reaction.

Owen had gone ahead to drop the photos in the mail and to transport our luggage because we couldn’t flash with it and we’d look suspicious flying without any. He waited for us in the long-term parking lot at the Miami airport.

“So much for the Ferrari,” Owen muttered sadly as we abandoned the sports car and headed for the terminal.

“I thought you were getting a motorcycle,” I teased to cheer him up. It worked.

His face brightened and he smiled. “Oh, yeah.”

We traveled with no problems from the Daemoni. Tristan had been concerned they would stage a terrorist attack, but apparently they weren’t ready to go that far with the humans. When we arrived in Athens, we had to go our separate ways. The Amadis mansion occupied a private island in the Aegean Sea. Owen took the Amadis boat with our luggage, but Mr. and Mrs. Wells checked into a hotel room and then rented a boat for the day, leaving a paper trail for the authorities and the media.

The boat trip was unbelievably beautiful. The sun shone brightly, dancing on the azure water and warming the air, although the wind held a slight chill. I was glad to finally be able to let my mind relax—being in crowded places was difficult. It had taken every ounce of mental energy to keep my wall up on the airplane, knowing I couldn’t escape the voices if it fell. Owen and Tristan took turns “singing” and “talking” to me, just to give my mind something to tune into. Now, with no one around but Tristan, I didn’t have to hold the wall at all.

After about an hour, Tristan idled the engine and pointed at an island about three miles away, barely visible on the horizon. “That’s where we’re flashing to first. I’ll lead. Then we’ll have to swim to the Amadis Island. It’s shielded, of course, so we can’t flash onto it.”