Sam had said he came from a specific line of vamps that made ideal concierges due to their talents and that was his explanation for his behaviour. Tristan had accepted this, knowing that royals often were appointed to specific positions based on their bloodline because of specific strengths that bloodline would generally suggest.
He said he’d had allegiance to Tristan all along but said he’d been merely doing what he had been trained to do, what he’d been bred to do, balance on a tightrope between serving the vamp he was assigned to and reporting to higher-ups. Before the lab, Tristan had accepted this, not blindly, but whatever Sam had yammered on about had placated him.
Sam said that he had no idea that things would be this different this assignment, the anomaly being Kyla’s lack of mesmerization and the addition of the extra close eyes on their situation.
Tristan wasn’t following Sam’s word blindly. Not now. He was not ever going to follow anything blindly again, especially when it could put Kyla in jeopardy. He now knew that Sam had been supernaturally influencing him over the years. Sam had nudged things as his right hand man, he’d had ample opportunity to influence Tristan. Sam had often weighed in on issues and he’d weighed in on handling the Kyla situation repeatedly leading up to the attempt at turning her.
Tristan knew that Sam was someone he needed right now. Instinctively, he felt it. Being able to influence him would certainly help matters. So would being able to read intentions and he felt like that was a skill that had sharpened significantly.
He knew he wouldn’t be susceptible to Sam’s nudges any longer. He could feel things changing in him. Her blood was changing him yet again or maybe even further. Maybe each feed wasn’t a change, it was more like part of an ongoing evolution, but it didn’t feel like he was gaining new things, rather that barriers were being peeled away so that he’d become whole, become who he was meant to be.
Tristan felt less and less disconnected from himself each day. The monster, the grey hulk that Kyla had been afraid of wasn’t to be feared any longer. Not for Kyla, anyway. Only for anyone who put her in jeopardy.
Now the only thing left for him to feel whole again was to get her back. And keep her safe for good.-3-Sam and Tristan were in the living room of the cottage.
“Liam Donavan. Where is he?”
“Liam is in a holding cell off the hall where Adrian’s lab is. Get him?”
“Bring Adrian, too.”
“Tris, you’re not gonna…” Sam looked concerned.
“Now. I’ll leave the front door open. Quick.”
“If you give him any reason to dagger you then she is out of your control. Now, I know you don’t want that. As I said before things went awry, should anything else ever happen to you, you have my word, my vow, that I’ll care for her until you’re back or you’re conscious but---”
“Get him. Leave the dagger in Liam. I’m the one to remove it. Don’t let anyone stop you.” He’d said this as he looked deep into Sam’s eyes.
Adrian’s dagger wouldn’t matter because he’d pull Kyla’s dagger out of Liam and then he’d be as armed as Adrian.
Sam gave a chin jerk and left.
Tristan ran up the stairs and checked on her. She was asleep and her temperature felt normal. He looked at her throat. His teeth marks were gone. Fuck, she’d healed already.
“Kyla?”
She opened her eyes and they focused on his shirt. She reached out and grabbed the wine-coloured material and started trembling.
“Kyla?”
She looked up at him, eyes roving his face, blinking rapidly, but not letting go of his shirt. He looked down at it. Was she regaining lucidity?
“Princess? You with me?”
Please. Fuck, please.
“C-c-cold.”
Nope. Fuck.
He pulled the covers over her. Her teeth chattered.
His heart sank but he held her for a minute, stroking her hair, his eyes closed. She buried her face into his neck and began sobbing. It fucking killed, pulled hard at his heart because it felt like she was responding to him. Her nose was in the crook of his throat and she was shaking and crying. He wished he could feel her inside.
He heard the front door.
“I’ll be back, baby.” He hated to let go of her.
She continued to cling to him for a minute and then she began scratching at her arms. He let go and tipped her chin up to meet her eyes.
“Sleep, princess. Just have a little nap. Don’t scratch.”
She stopped scratching.
He kissed her forehead, “Good girl,” and left her, closing the door tight, before heading down the stairs.
He willed the door unlocked on his way down and then spotted Sam and Adrian as well as an unconscious-looking Liam over Sam’s shoulder. Liam was dropped on the floor, dagger still planted in his back from when Kyla had put it there. Constantin came to a stop beside him.