Kristie Cook - Promise

Trying not to be too obvious, I snuck a peak over my shoulder to see what caught his attention. Mostly men lined the bar—except for one leather-clad, long-legged female who took a seat at the end closest to the door. Her long hair was almost as white as the silk, low-cut blouse she wore. Her skin was nearly as pale, smooth as a porcelain doll. The black leather mini-skirt and knee-high boots contrasted starkly with the rest of her. She was absolutely gorgeous. All the men at the bar agreed—they stared at her with their mouths hanging open.

I sighed again. Yep, I'm really blowing it .

My self-esteem plummeted right through my feet and into the floor. I bit my lip and stared at my lap, my right hand turning the engagement ring on my finger round and round. How can he love me when he can have that ? Why would he want to be with me ? I definitely don't deserve him.

Disgusted with myself, I mumbled something about needing to get home for something stupid, nearly knocked my chair over as I hurriedly stood up and made a beeline for the door. I didn't even wait to see if Tristan followed. I was close enough to walk home and almost welcomed the idea. As I passed the bar, though, a rough-looking man stepped away from it, directly in my path.

Evil! Stay away! Bad! Danger! Evil!

"They're cute," he said, nodding at Carlie and her friends, "but you, lassie, you're a pistol. There's fire in your eyes."

My alarms sounded loudly but I stood frozen in place. I stared at the man in astonishment. He might have been attractive at some point in his life, but his face was rough, weathered, threatening. He looked like an ugly, overgrown leprechaun.

What are you doing?! Run now! Evil!

I inhaled sharply—the smells of booze, cigarettes, rotten meat and, strangely, sweet citrus poured off him—and eyed the path to the door. As soon as I shifted toward an opening, he shifted that way, too, grinning maliciously, exposing crooked, yellow teeth. Not a leprechaun…an ogre .

"Where ya going, lassie?" he asked with an Irish accent. "I just got here. Don't leave already. Lemme buy ya—"

Someone grabbed my left hand from behind me and pulled me back. My heart jumped as the thought he had an accomplice flashed through my mind, but Tristan stepped in front of me, holding my hand at the small of his back. He stared angrily at the vulgar man, stopping him in midsentence. I was pretty sure Tristan couldn't kill with just a look, but if he could, this man would have dropped to the floor dead.

"Ah, Seth," the man said. They glared at each other and then the ogre nodded at me. "This one yours, huh? 'Bout time ya took advantage of what ya got. Nice catch."

I looked at Tristan, confused. The ogre acted like he knew Tristan.

"Back off," Tristan growled.

"Ah, come now, I was just having a little fun. Got your name on her, huh?"

"I don't even know her. Just leave her alone." He squeezed my hand, I thought to send me a message. I took it to mean to go along with it or keep my mouth shut. I did both.

"Ah, just a play toy, then?" The fiend sneered. "Why don't ya share?"

"I said to back off!" Tristan took a half-step forward.

The ogre laughed throatily. "I think we need to have a little visit. It's been a while."

"Not here. My place."

"Ha! Ya think I'm stupid? Nah. We stay in public, where there's witnesses. O'Shea's, by the beach." The ogre drained his full glass of amber-colored booze the bartender had just set down, threw money on the bar and started for the door before we even moved. He glanced over his shoulder. "And don't even think about letting her go. Bring the lass."

"Tristan, who is that?" I asked once the ogre left.

"Shh…he can still hear us," he whispered.

"Hey, Alexis, Tristan, you still leaving or did you change your minds?" Carlie asked from behind us.

Tristan swore under his breath, then said, "We have to go."

He pulled me toward the door, not letting go of my hand. I followed him to the car in silence, nearly jogging through the rain to keep up, narrowly avoiding big puddles from the day's downpours.

"Now?" I asked once we were in the car. He nodded. "So, who is he? He's wretched!"

"Yes, that he is." He stared forward out the windshield, his jaw muscle twitching as his teeth clenched. "Give me your ring."

I instinctively hid my hand far away from him and stared at him wide-eyed. He changed his mind? I already blew it?

He looked at me and his face softened, as did his voice. "Just for now, my love. He can't see it. They can't know, remember?"

"Who?"

"Who do you think?"

As I realized what Tristan meant, terror overcame me. My voice trembled. "Why can't you just take me home?"

"Because he'll follow me and I'll lead them right to you and Sophia." The anger had returned, but he stroked my face gently. "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you. Don't forget who I am. There's a reason he doesn't want to be alone with me."

He grinned, but it wasn't with humor. In fact, it was spine-chilling.

I pulled my ring off and reluctantly handed it to him, my hand shaking. He stuffed it in his jeans pocket, then reached over and tucked my necklace under my shirt. Then he drove us to O'Shea's, an Irish pub by the beach. He took out his cell phone and dialed a number as he drove.

"Ian's in town…Headed to O'Shea's…Yeah, she's with me…I know, but I don't have a choice. I can't take her home with him on my tail…. It's not necessary…I'll bring her home as soon as it's safe." He clapped the phone shut.

"Who was that?"

"Sophia. She needed to be warned."

I panicked, making my voice screechy. "She's not coming, is she?"

"I don't know. She really needs to stay away for both of you."

"He's a…a Daemoni ?" I asked, nearly choking on the word.

He nodded. "He is now. Wasn't always. Just as Sophia brought me to the Amadis, the Daemoni are sometimes successful in bringing your people to their side."

"Oh," I breathed. "Why did he call you 'Seth'?"

His face twisted in the light from the dash. "That was my Daemoni name. They refuse to use the name Tristan."

I reached out for his hand, needing to hold him, at least some part of him.

"Listen… He'll probably figure it out—your looks give it away anyway—but we need to try to not let him know who you are. And he definitely can't know about… us ." He glanced at me. "Remember what I told you about my weakness?"

I nodded. Me .

"I'll probably have to say things I don't want to…just remember, it's just as hard for me to say as it is for you to hear. Remember, too, deception is his most powerful weapon. Don't believe any of it, okay?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. We turned into O'Shea's parking lot.

His voice softened to nearly a whisper. "I love you more than life, Alexis. Always remember that."

"I love you, too, Tristan. Please believe that," I whispered. He squeezed my hand and nodded.

"He can hear us now." We pulled into a parking space and a motorcycle parked next to us. The rain apparently didn't bother the ogre.

Keeping his own body between mine and Ian's, Tristan gently pushed me in front of him, as Ian followed us into the pub. I'd never been inside before and when we walked in, I was sure I wasn't even allowed to be there. I was underage and this was no restaurant. It was dark and kind of dingy, the odor of beer and harder liquor strong in the air.

I smelled a familiar scent and noticed Owen sitting at the bar. Oh, no! I looked away before I caught his eye, afraid he'd see the fear in my face. I definitely didn't want to drag him into this mess. I briefly wondered what he was doing in a place like this; it didn't seem his kind of hang-out.

Tristan directed me to a table, where we sat next to each other and Ian took a chair across from us. I started to reach for my pendant until I saw Tristan just barely shake his head, knowing that playing with it had become a nervous habit. There had been a reason he'd tucked it under my shirt. Needing something to do with my hands, I yanked and twisted my hair instead, trying not to rip it out from fear.