Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
I did not anticipate this, repeated Tristan. I … I did not …
It is quite possible that he never before in his long life felt such responsibility as he did in this moment. He was certain he would prove to be the monster he always thought himself to be and decide to just leave the boy right there, helpless. But what if the boy still survived? Didn’t he already prove himself strong? What would he say when questioned about tonight? What would he recall? Tristan and Kyle’s future crumbled away by the second at the possibilities of what leaving this boy alive could do.
He was not part of Tristan’s plan—nor the selfish desires that so fueled Tristan’s every dream of a life alone with Kyle, his new immortal love, who waited for him even now, crying into a musty pillow in a two-star motel over the family he lost.
Or thought he lost.
“Tristan, the humans approach. Choose,” said Wendy. “It will be easy. To leave him here. Let the fire have its due meal.”
Tristan could still taste Kyle’s blood on his lips from when they last kissed. He could also taste the tears. Nothing about this night had been easy.
But the boy has survived so much already …
“You mean to save the mortal?”
Kyle cannot know. Kyle can never know.
“A secret is trickier to keep when its heart still beats.”
I’m afraid you can’t truly understand. You don’t feel anything.
“It is why my advice is best. Emotion is a habit.”
I envy you.
“Leave the boy. Who will know?”
I will know. I will know every time I touch Kyle … every time he touches me, I will know what I did … what I could have done.
“Why do you care?” Wendy’s face was suddenly so close, or rather, the void where her face belonged. Everything around them burned. Everything around them hurt. “What is it about this Kyle Amos that so unravels the Tristan I used to know … the Tristan who danced on graves until dawn … who would dare to drink the blood of demons … Is he still in there? Say a word. We leave, he burns, sent to rest in the place beyond places where dead humans go, resting with his mommy and daddy. Perhaps it is even the more merciful option to end him now, if emotion is so important to you. He will age. You and Kyle will not. He will die, yet you and Kyle will persist. Say a word, it is over.”
Tristan felt as if he was holding Kyle in his arms right now. Kyle and his happiness. Kyle and his freedom. Kyle and all the years they would soon enjoy together.
I did not anticipate this, said Tristan one last time.
The fire laughed at his plight as the roof above the front door fell, collapsing inward with a shattering screech that rang out into the night like a witch’s cackle.
Wendy’s mouth was by his ear. “Say a word, it is done.”
Tristan slowly parted his lips.
The words he uttered, however, surprised them both.
“Why do you insist on this?” asked Wendy an hour later. “Why the effort? It seems such a wasteful risk, even for you.”
They were in the distant woods, far from the fiery scene. The stars glinted over them through the crisscrossing arms and long, spindly fingers of trees. The boy slept before Tristan, still reeking of smoke. But at least he breathed, even if faintly. He must be kept in a safe place until I know what to do with him … far away from anything, from anyone.
“Far away from you and his own brother, too?”
Tristan could not peel his eyes from the boy’s sleeping face as it slowly drew in one feeble breath at a time. So vulnerable. So easy to end. Like all mortal things. Find this safe place for him, he said. For all his authority, his commands were singed with a sad sort of desperation. Keep him there. Do not let him be found.
“This boy you just rescued … he is a prisoner now?”
Better a prisoner of ours than a prisoner of Death’s. Find a place, Wendy, a safe place. I must return to Kyle before he catches a disease from the two-star-motel bed sheets. It is more possible than you think.
“It is done,” said Wendy. “The place I know may not be so optimal for a mortal, but it will be safe from all eyes.”
Not the House of Vegasyn, Tristan said at once, nor the depths of Hell, or Hades, or wherever it is you say you once served. Find a peaceful place, a human place … somewhere by a pretty lake, perhaps.
“You add more constraints. You complicate my task.”
Only until I know what to do with him.
Wendy moved to the boy so slowly, she seemed to float. As she gazed down at him, the void that was her face slowly began to form eyes that seemed kind and gentle. Tristan realized that was a strategic and intentional choice. Should the boy wake, he ought to be comforted by the sight of her, not traumatized.