Kristie Cook - Promise

I raised my head and tried to gulp down the boulder-sized lump in my throat. It remained stuck.

" Kill us?" I whispered around it.

He nodded and slowly lifted his eyes back to mine. They looked horribly pained.

"But…you're not a killer," I said quietly, finding this more difficult to believe than anything else they'd told me…or not told me. He dropped his eyes again and stared at our hands, mine in his, in his lap. I had sensed a bit of danger in him. But murder? It didn't make sense. I shook my head in denial.

"I have killed people, Alexis," he answered just as quietly, still keeping his eyes from mine. "Innocent people. Amadis. That was my way of life."

I gulped and blinked back the tears stinging my eyes.

" Was your way of life, but not anymore," Mom added. "Right, Tristan?"

"Absolutely right," he said fiercely. "I turned my back on that many, many years ago, before you were born, Alexis, thanks to Sophia. She persuaded me to see the Daemoni from a different perspective and I saw how evil they were…how evil I was. They are, in all respects of the word, demons. Evil spirits. Followers and soldiers of Satan himself."

His voice was cold, his face contorted in disgust. A chill traveled up my spine.

Looking at him and knowing him the way I did, I just couldn't believe it. Then I thought about the flames I'd seen in his eyes. And how, this very night, he'd said he was much more dangerous than a vampire. I'd thought he was joking at the time. I shivered. He frowned, his brows furrowing.

"A little over twenty years ago, Sophia somehow convinced me there was good inside me," he continued, his tone and expression softening from revulsion to appreciation with each word. "She took me to the Amadis and they taught me how to change inside, how to pull that good out and allow it to be the overpowering force within me."

"See, in their greedy desire to create the perfect warrior, the Daemoni underestimated the power of two types of blood they included in Tristan's," Mom explained. "There is enough Amadis and enough humanity in him that he was able to overcome the evil."

"So, you have Amadis in you? You are like us?" I asked, feeling hopeful after all the repulsive information they'd told me about the man I loved.

"If you trace it back several centuries, we have ancestors in common. I do have Amadis blood, but that doesn't make it easy to be like you."

"Tristan's been through a lot of pain and turmoil to strengthen this side of him," Mom added.

"It still takes solid concentration and self-control, but it's worth it. I'll never return to who—or what —I once was." The conviction was clear in his voice—as clear as the pain was. "So…I came here to find you and Sophia, but I knew it had to be done in a certain way. It had to be in a place where you would be safe, just in case… The Amadis told me you were taking classes at the college here, so I enrolled, too, hoping we would cross paths and I knew I could be around you without having an overwhelming urge to…"

His voice broke at the end and he was unable to finish.

"Kill me , " I finished in a whisper.

He finally looked at me again and agony filled his eyes. He seemed to be pleading for me to understand. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to have an inherent desire to kill someone—as strong and natural as the need to drink when parched or eat when starving—and then to try to overcome that force when the object of desire was right there to be easily taken. The morsel of food or jug of water…or innate enemy…right there, taunting… The thought of harming someone repulsed me so much I couldn't complete the picture in my mind. I just knew it had to be nearly unbearable to fight that impulse…and the feeling of not conquering it could only be worse. Especially when the person you wanted to hurt—to kill—was the person you also loved.

I tempted this urge in him and didn't even know what he went through. My heart ached for Tristan and the struggle for control he had to fight every time he was with me. I squeezed his hand once to communicate I understood and then tried to pull my hand from his, thinking that just holding his hand made it even worse for him. He held tighter to mine, though, and shook his head.

"It's way too late for you to worry now," he whispered.

"Done with this arm," Mom said, standing up. "Trade places with me, Tristan."

Tristan took my hand as soon as he was seated again, now on my right.

"This is why I was so concerned when I first saw you with Tristan," Mom said as she rearranged everything in front of her. "I hadn't seen him in twenty years and I didn't know how he was. The Amadis told me over the years he was still with us, but he stayed away most of the time, so I didn't know for sure."

She filled the syringe again and I looked back at Tristan as she stuck the needle into my arm.

"I was too ashamed," Tristan muttered, dropping his eyes from mine, staring at his lap again. "I am supposed to be this strong, invincible, nearly perfect being, but it took immense effort to control my own nature. I didn't want the Amadis to see and know that about me. I would check in to let them know I hadn't gone back to the Daemoni and to absorb Amadis power when I needed it."

"Amadis power?" I asked. "What is that?"

"Sorry, hon," Mom said, "I can't give details. Just remember you and I—and Tristan—have unusual…abilities. Our powers must come from somewhere, right?"

Abilities? Powers? I'd never thought of them that way. They'd always been annoying quirks that made me weird. But after everything that happened tonight…and thinking about everything Mom and Tristan could do that just wasn't normal…I realized that's exactly what they were. I looked at Mom and opened my mouth to ask a question, but she shook her head.

"This is about Tristan, Alexis," she reminded me, seeing my frustration.

She pressed along my left arm and, not able to feel it, I shook my head. She picked up the scalpel and I immediately turned toward Tristan.

"Can I tell her what the Amadis power does for me?" he asked Mom. "So at least she can understand some of it and its importance to me?"

When Mom didn't answer—and I didn't feel any pressure on my arm yet—I looked at her. She seemed to be considering it, then finally nodded.

I lay my head against the table again and watched Tristan as he stared at the table and explained. "Amadis power allows me to conquer the… monster …within me. It strengthens the goodness, so it can overcome everything else bred into me."

"So it's good for you," I said.

"Yes," he answered quietly. "I need it."

"You would've been better off staying with them," Mom admonished. Tristan didn't answer. He looked at me again and returned to what he'd been saying.

"Once I realized that, with great effort, I could control myself with you, I wanted to learn more about you. You intrigued me…and you made me happy . In all my years, I had never experienced that emotion—happiness—and you gave it to me in a day." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

I hurt to hear he'd never once felt happiness in his two-hundred-odd years. That's such a long time to live. And to be miserable the whole time? But I never had either. In my very short life, I could not remember ever feeling real joy. Mom and I had some good memories, but not true happiness. Not like what I felt when I was with Tristan. He brought the best out of me. And now I couldn't imagine not being with him—going back to my old, dark, lonely life...I knew I just couldn't do it. Even knowing what I did now.

"So," he continued, "I started looking for more ways to spend time with you without scaring you off. I realized immediately when I'm with you, that monster inside…well, it doesn't exactly go away, but it's…quiet, repressed. You bring out the good in me."