Kristie Cook - Promise

The kissing sensations stopped and all I could feel were the lingering tingles and the familiar sensation of my body healing. I slowly opened my eyes.

"Much better," Tristan said, studying the injury.

Mom leaned over me to check it out. "Yes. Much."

I couldn't look at Tristan, not sure exactly how I felt at the moment. Disgust, guilt, fear… Curiosity won and I eventually gave in and looked at the wound.

"Whoa," I breathed. I watched with fascination as the deep fibers knitted themselves back together, the wound closing from the inside outward. I could only watch for so long, though—it was pretty gross and nauseating.

After a few minutes, Tristan ran his hand up and down my leg, sending currents under my skin. "See. Your leg is nearly as sexy as it was this morning."

I looked again and, sure enough, the gash had completely disappeared. A long, dark bruise marked its place—bruises took longer to heal than cuts, something having to do with blood vessels in the deeper tissue. It'd be gone by Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.

"Is that your medical training?" I demanded.

He laughed. "No. That comes naturally."

I narrowed my eyes and jabbed my finger at him. " You have a lot of explaining to do."

He grabbed my finger and kissed the tip of it before I yanked it away. He sighed and his eyes dimmed. "Yes, I do. Sophia?"

I dropped my head with defeat, knowing her answer.

"Yes, we both do."

My head twisted around as far as my neck allowed to see her face. " Really? "

She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply, as if she didn't like the idea. "Yes, really."

"You're really going to tell me all about me…us?"

She shook her head and opened her eyes. "No, not everything. I can't provide a lot of details. My soul's existence relies on keeping our secrets until you are able to understand. You'll just have to wait for most of it, but I will tell you what you need to know to understand what Tristan has to say."

Her soul's existence? She'd never put it like that before.

"First, though, we have some things to deal with at the store," she continued, squirming to stand up without success.

Crammed into the tiny bathroom, we had to stand one at a time, Tristan first. He held his hands out to help me up. I ignored him and stood on my own, gingerly putting weight on my right leg. It felt fine. Mom squeezed past me, already heading for the front door.

"I need to get back there. I told the police I was just going in the back room to make some phone calls and right now Owen is handling everything."

"Oh! How's the driver?" I asked. "Is he okay?"

She frowned, shook her head and whispered, "No, I'm afraid he's…dead."

" What?! How?"

"I don't know yet. Just wait about fifteen minutes after I leave, then come to the store, as if I'd called you. We can talk about everything while we clean up."

I couldn't believe all the bombshells dropped in the last ten minutes and now I had to wait…again.

" Mom …?"

"I guess that one's out, huh?" She turned to look at me and Tristan, her hand on the doorknob. "Finally. It's about time we stopped the charade. Alexis…I've known Tristan a long time. Well, our family has. He's familiar with who I am and what that means for you."

"Our families know each other?" I didn't even know our family.

"I don't have any family," Tristan muttered bitterly from behind me.

"Actually, my relatives— our relatives—have known Tristan for a long time. I'll explain later. For now, well…you can trust Tristan. I wasn't sure at first, but I know now."

Before I could ask anything else, she was gone, the door shutting behind her. I stared at it for a long moment.

"I need to go home," Tristan said quietly from right behind me.

I spun around and glared at him. "Oh, no, you're not! You're staying here and explaining yourself, just as you said. You're not running away from me now, Tristan! You will–"

His glorious smile stopped me.

"What?" I asked with bewilderment. What is he smiling about now? As far as I was concerned, there was absolutely no reason for it.

"You really don't want me to leave?" he asked.

"Of course not!" I blurted.

He placed a hand against the door on each side of me, leaning close. My back pressed against the door as his eyes penetrated into mine. "Why? Because you want to hear what a freak I am? Or because you really want me to stay?"

I hated how he looked at me so intensely. It disarmed me. I forgot to be mad. "Um…both?"

He sighed. "I really need to go."

"Please don't," I said quietly, "don't leave me."

"Why?" he demanded again, his eyes searching deeply into mine.

I swallowed hard.

"Because…because I'm afraid you won't come back," I finally whispered, dropping my head so he couldn't see my eyes. "Just like the others…."

"Alexis," he murmured, lifting my chin with his thumb to look me in the eye. "Lexi…I'm not like the others, but I do have to go now."

The corners of his mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile, but his eyes were dark, serious. And when I felt that crack in my heart again, I knew it didn't hurt because I was scared of who he was. It hurt because I was afraid to lose him. I jerked my face away from his hand and ducked under his arm. I didn't want him to see the betrayal and sadness quickly rising to the surface.

"Fine, if that's what you want," I muttered, my back to him.

"Yes, it's what I want," he said and the crack grew larger, making my breath catch. "Because if we're going to the store, I think I should have a shirt on. I promise I'll be right back."

And, just like Mom, he was out the door, shutting it behind him before I could respond.

I spun around and slammed my fists against the door. How does he do that to me? I could imagine the huge, smug grin on his face.

"Who are you, Tristan Knight?" I asked the empty house as I slumped against the door.

After a minute or so, I finally straightened up and locked the door. If he comes back, he'll have to beg me to come inside! Then I stomped to my bedroom to change out of my own blood-stained clothes. I never heard the motorcycle come or go, but Tristan was back by the time I'd washed the dried, matted blood out of my hair and dressed. He sat at the kitchen table, waiting for me, when I skidded to a stop in the doorway.

"How did you…?" I asked with wonder, looking at the front door I knew I'd just locked and back at him.

"You should really lock the doors when you're home alone," he said.

"I did!"

He nodded at the back door, off the kitchen. "Are you sure?"

I groaned. "Don't do that to me! For a second there, I thought you could just magically appear out of nowhere, too!"

He chuckled. "Are you ready?"

"Absolutely. I need some explanations before I go insane."

The phone rang just as we reached the front door. I considered ignoring it, but thought it could be Mom, needing us to bring something. Tristan followed me back to the kitchen.

"Alexis, honey, you can't come here," Mom said when I picked up. "You and Tristan both need to stay away."

"Why?"

"The media is here," she said, as if that were enough explanation.

"And…so?" Since we supposedly hadn't been there, they wouldn't have anything to ask us.

"Honey, you both just need to stay out of it. Owen and I will finish up and I'll be home as soon as I can." Her voice was firm and I knew there was something more she couldn't tell me. "We'll talk about everything when I get home, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise, honey. You deserve to know. Can you please start a pot of coffee? We'll need it."

"Yeah, sure." I hung up and headed for the coffee pot, telling Tristan about the media.

"Hmm…yeah, wouldn't be a good idea," he said, leaning against the counter. "We need to stay under the radar."