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Ten years earlier
Zoo
“Tristan, a young girl has run off. I am going to look for the girl with these people,” Patrick Arlington said to his grandson. “Would you like to come or would you rather stay here with Gordon?”
Tristan looked up from the zoo pamphlet he held, to his grandfather, then to their driver, Gordon. “I’d rather stay here.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
Tristan nodded. When his grandfather left, he folded the pamphlet then placed it down on the bench and looked around. Gordon was a few feet away, smoking a cigarette. His attention was focused on the information board he stood in front of.
While Tristan watched Gordon, a strange sensation overtook him. Something was calling to him. Not calling his name or anything, but he felt an odd pull. He got to his feet and headed in the opposite direction his grandfather had gone and away from their driver.
Soon he found himself standing in front of a little girl. He thought it odd that he hadn’t run into anyone else on the way. He was at a zoo that was crowded just minutes ago.
“Are you the lost girl?” he asked.
He realized two things immediately. The first thing was that the girl looked very unhappy. The second thing, she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Why he smiled at her he wasn’t sure. She was crying, yet he couldn’t help smiling.
If she thought him weird she didn’t let on. She just looked up at him with wide odd-colored eyes.
Tristan handed her his handkerchief then sat down next to her. They sat for several minutes saying nothing to one another. It was as if nothing needed to be said and he was fine with that.
Soon, people found them including his grandfather.
Ashamed that he’d ignored his grandfather’s request to stay put, Tristan stood. He didn’t see the girl reach for his hand but when he felt her touch, it seemed that everything in the world made sense. Just being near her made sense. But he was only nine years old so what did he know?
Only, when he said goodbye to her, Tristan felt as if he was losing a part of himself.
He wasn’t at the zoo anymore. No, this place was cold and it smelled like rubbing alcohol.
God, it’s cold.
Suddenly, the chill left him and his body began to shake uncontrollably. Tristan screamed so loud, so long, that his throat was raw.
Someone was holding him down.
Oh god, the pain.
His body was ablaze.
Help...help me, he tried to yell out but his words were nothing more than strangled cries. He was on fire. His bones had to be ashes by now but why was he still conscious?
“God, help my son.”
Tristan heard his mother’s cries. Another scream ripped from his mouth.
The girl...he tried to tell them. The girl with the green-blue eyes can help me.
But no one understood him.
No one but her.
“Oh God!” his mother shrieked.
His screams echoed throughout the hospital wing.
Present Day
October 28th
Tristan opened his eyes as he sprang up to a sitting position. He stared at his hands then ran them over his face. Was it all a dream or maybe it was a memory? Was he still dreaming?
He scanned the room. Nothing about the room seemed familiar until his eyes rested on a guy who sat with his ankle resting over his leg on the window seat, watching him. Tristan’s brows wrinkled and his eyes narrowed.
Patton’s house, this is the guy who knocked me out.
“Where’s Cianne?” Tristan demanded. “Cianne!” he called out.
When the guy didn’t respond to his question, Tristan pulled the sheets off his legs but his arm jerked back. Something was restricting his movements. He looked to his arm and saw IV tubing. Tristan traced the length of the cord with his finger then pulled it until the rolling stand crashed into the bed. He then ripped the tubing from his arm, disregarding the slow trickle of blood that dripped out. He then tried to move his legs off the bed but he couldn’t get them to move.
Move damn it.
“You should relax,” the guy suggested with a shrug.
Tristan looked over at him.
Where is Cianne and why is this guy here...and who the hell is the bastard anyway, with his smug expression and pretty boy looks?
Tristan turned his attention back to his legs. Determined to move them, he slowly slid one leg off the side of the bed, then the other. A searing pain shot up his back but he ignored it.
“Where’s Cianne?” he asked again.
An image of Bianca standing over Cianne while holding a gun flashed in front of his eyes. “Oh god,” he whispered. His head clouded, he felt sick, his throat felt dry, and his pulse raced.
Tristan didn’t think about the pain that coursed through his body when he pushed off the bed and stood. Cianne and their child were all he thought about. They needed to be ok. His eyes glossed over. His breathing became erratic.
“Oh god...they’re ok.” He repeated it again and again.
He took a step. Even when he began to fall forward, neither his condition nor the pain was a concern. Her eyes were all he saw as his legs gave out.
Something strong caught hold of him before he hit the cold hard floor but his mind was already shredding. His body went limp. Everything in the room became a blur as tears fell from his eyes. He struggled for air as he cried out her name.
“Breathe,” the guy told him. He easily lifted Tristan in his arms and placed him back on the bed, “you have to breathe.”
Tristan didn’t see the door to his room open nor did he feel the soft hands that touched his face. Only when her lips touched his did he try to focus on the person in front of him.
His eye moved over Cianne’s face. Reaching up, he let his fingers trace her cheek then her chin. She was so soft, so beautiful. Warm.
Is she real?
Tristan leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. He tasted her sweetness and his salty tears when his mouth opened over hers. He placed his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her closer, kissing her frantically.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t,” Cianne whispered against his lips.
He grimaced and she pulled back.
“Tristan, I don’t know what I would have done if you...” She embraced him.
In her tight grasp, Tristan found it easier to breathe.
***
“You’re leaving?” Cianne transferred.
Sobbing, crying, and tears were not his thing. Nor were slobbering, sucking, and kissing.
“Just going to speak to the doctor,” Caleb transferred back without turning around. He stepped out of Tristan’s hospital room and walked down the hallway, passing several empty rooms along his way. He saw Vivian talking to Mrs. Bertram in the waiting room at the end of the hall. He gave her a slight nod but continued walking down the hallway.
Caleb approached Dr. Bannerman. “Tristan’s awake.” He glanced at Vivian who was walking up, then looked back to Bannerman. “He tried to get out of bed. Moved his legs off the bed and stood. He took a step.”
“Doctor?” Vivian asked, her face a barely concealed mask of shock.
To Caleb, the doctor didn’t look at all surprised. Bannerman actually smiled, then put his clipboard down and pointed to an empty conference room across the hall. Caleb followed the doctor but let Vivian enter the room first. Vivian walked by him, giving him a suspicious glance, but she went inside the conference room.
Bannerman closed the door; he didn’t seem to have any reservations about being closed inside a room with Caleb.
To appear less threatening to Vivian, Caleb moved to the far side of the room then leaned against a wall and placed his hands in his pockets. Not that anything he did would make him less threatening.
“The injuries Tristan sustained damaged his lower spine. By all accounts he should be paralyzed from the waist down. I knew there was a chance... But I had no idea it was going to work this well.” Dr. Bannerman smiled big, obviously pleased with himself.
“What was going to work?” Vivian asked.
“I’ll explain,” Dr. Bannerman said with excitement. “Your daughter, Kayla, gave me the opportunity to treat Tristan a little over ten years ago, and in return I gave my word that I would keep what he is a secret.”
If Caleb hadn’t glanced over at Vivian, he would have missed her slight frown of displeasure. He was displeased as well but he refused to show it. Knowing Kayla trusted this man but ran from him...
“For ten years, I have been experimenting with Tristan’s original blood and tissue samples that I collected during his Conversion. What I discovered was that if I introduced those samples, slightly altered of course, to dying tissue, that tissue healed at an astonishing rate. I tested his DNA with the dead tissue of an average human. The host tissue showed promising signs but after about a day or two and in some instances sooner, the combination of Tristan’s donor sample and the random sample died. Based on my experiments, I reasoned that if I reintroduced his Conversion DNA to him...well, I never imagined it would work on such a grand scale. It seems that his body is repairing itself, as if he is going through the Conversion Cycle again. Just like when Kayla and I found him.”
Caleb’s gaze moved over the doctor then to several objects around the man. If anyone in the room had his superior hearing they would have heard Caleb’s heart rate increase to a staggering rate.
What kind of relationship did this man have with my Kayla? Why would he put his neck out for her and betray the Sovereign’s trust?
Caleb blinked, the only outward sign that he was dealing with and reining in an unexpected and unnatural bout of emotions.
“And you decided to keep this information from me?” Vivian hissed.
Caleb looked from the doctor to her. He wondered if she would lose her cool. She didn’t have his control. Her emotions danced close to the surface, waiting to explode. He wondered if he would be the lucky recipient. Or would it be the good doctor with all his secrets?
Caleb smiled on the inside... He was thinking, wishing, the crone would lash out. In doing so she may just reveal her mysterious ability. The Council of Four’s abilities and their successors’ abilities were usually kept secret in the world of Coesen and even to each other. However, it didn’t matter. Vivian was still no match for him, but he was a curious man.
Though, not curious enough to breach her mind.
“I didn’t know if it was going to work. I just knew that everyone had been through a lot and a miracle, if it worked, was what everyone needed,” Dr. Bannerman explained. “I apologize for not informing you,” he bowed to Vivian, avoiding her gaze.
“Of this current offense or the one that has been ongoing for over ten years?” Vivian scowled.
Caleb sighed with contempt. Such drama. He rolled his eyes. “Is this permanent?”
“The damage to Tristan’s spine is normally considered a complete injury. The possibility of locomotion is almost nonexistent in similar cases. Though my research with Tristan’s Cycling DNA would suggest that yes, his miraculous recovery is permanent. Tristan moving his toe would have been a positive result now, but he moved both legs and tried to walk.” Dr. Bannerman looked down then back to Caleb and Vivian. “To be clear, I’m not saying he will be like he was before the shooting. But if his body continues to repair itself and he is willing to work hard, I don’t see why he can’t be walking in a year or so.” Bannerman sat down on the edge of the long conference table then looked off into space.
The doc sure had that mad scientist thing down. Everything but the look, Caleb admitted to himself. Dr. Bannerman was handsome by anyone’s standards Caleb admitted, as the doctor turned his attention on him.
With a glint in his eyes, Dr. Bannerman said, “If you allowed me to examine you, maybe take a few tissue samples...Tristan could benefit from whatever it is that allows you to heal yourself.”
“I’m sure Cianne will be happy to volunteer.” Caleb pushed off the wall and strolled toward the door.
“She’s unstable right now,” Bannerman said. Caleb turned the knob but didn’t open the door. “Her abilities are slowly manifesting, maybe for years to come. We do know that she can repair her damaged tissue. An apparent trait she gets from you. Not to mention we don’t know what you are. Honestly, she may combust at any moment.”
Caleb turned to look at Bannerman. But not before he reminded himself of the promise he made to Cianne a few days ago. No killing...no intimidating. He tilted his head back, wondering how she would feel about him breaking the good doctor’s nose.
Bannerman stepped forward. “You on the other hand, have had your abilities in their entirety for...” he paused, “for how many years now?” He smiled when Caleb didn’t answer. “Just a little bit of your blood is all I need to get started.”
Caleb opened the door and left the room.
***
TRISTAN pulled Cianne closer into his side. Her being tucked beside him in the hospital bed wasn’t close enough for him. But he was content as he listened intently to her retelling how Caleb brought him back to life before finding her in the operating room and releasing her abilities she inherited from him.
Apparently, he was clinically dead for more than forty minutes. If he wasn’t changed by her, and didn’t go through the painful Cycling process to become her Protector when he was a kid, her father wouldn’t have been able to save him.
All of it was so hard to believe but that was his life. What was even harder to believe was that the blond senior citizen who looked like he was twenty-something was her father. He was the Caleb, the Big Bad who was mentioned in Coesen tales meant to scare their young.
Another hard pill to swallow was that just a few days ago Cianne buried the only father she knew up until two weeks ago.
The knowledge that he wasn’t there for her during such a trying time tied his stomach into knots. Tristan was grateful for their family and friends being there for her when he couldn’t.
Cianne told him that for two weeks she stayed virtually by his side while he lay unconscious. She was so brave.
“So, we can’t do the mental talking thing anymore?” Tristan asked. He buried his face in her hair, closed his eyes, and sniffed in her scent.
“For Caleb to help you, to bring you back, our connection had to be severed. You are still my Protector but feeling my fear as well as your pain was too overwhelming for your body to handle while it was trying to heal,” she said, as she grimaced.
He felt her finger tracing one of the new scars on his chest.
“The combination was literally killing you. Breaking our bond was necessary.”
Tristan wanted to see her face so he leaned back and lifted her chin up with his finger. She was so beautiful, so precious, he knew he would have climbed out of the depths of Hell if he had to. Waking up and seeing her safe, holding her in his arms—it felt so good he didn’t want to ever let her go.
He kissed her on the forehead then relaxed back. They lay in silence together but Tristan couldn’t relax completely. Cianne didn’t say anything about their baby and fear kept him from asking. He tried to focus on everything she told him but thoughts of their daughter kept resurfacing in his mind. He could only assume that if Cianne hadn’t brought the baby up yet, then it couldn’t be good.
He didn’t want to ask. But he had to know. He shifted then rose up on one arm. Cianne adjusted but gave him a questioning look. Tristan opened his mouth to speak but a knock on the hospital room door had him looking over his shoulder.
Dr. Bannerman stuck his head inside the room. “Excuse me, I should have waited for you to tell me to enter.”
“Doc!” Tristan sat up. “You came all this way for me?”
“It’s fine, Dr. Bannerman. I was just getting him caught up,” Cianne said as she slid from his arms and to her feet.
“Ci?” Tristan questioned.
Tristan instantly felt the loss of Cianne when she moved away from him. It was as if his body had iced over with the absence of hers. He quickly turned his head to keep her in his sight.
Cianne smiled at him then did some kind of hand signal he didn’t quite understand. Tristan reached for her only for her to gently push his hand away. A soft gesture yes, but his heart throbbed with pain as if she’d smacked it away.
“How are you feeling, Tristan?” Dr, Bannerman asked.
Tristan watched Cianne walk around the foot of the bed. She gave him a smile but he could only offer her a look of confusion as he watched her leave the room. He looked to his doctor, one of his oldest companions, again.
How do I feel?
“Like I went to hell and back,” Tristan responded honestly with no humor in his words.
Dr. Bannerman sat on the bed next to him and touched his shoulder. “I need to look you over but I know there are some people here who would really like to see you first. That is, if you’re up to it.”
Tristan nodded, so Dr. Bannerman turned his head, looked up at what was most likely a security camera in the ceiling and gave a wave of his hand.
The door swung open and Tristan’s mother’s face came into view. Dr. Bannerman had to stand quickly to move out of her path. His mother was already crying when she took Tristan in her arms. His body ached but he relished the soreness as a gift.
Tristan watched his father enter, walking into the room a little slower than his wife. His father waited and watched him and his mother in silence until Tristan reached out to him with one hand as he held onto his mother with the other. They held each other, as a family, for several minutes. Tristan couldn’t remember ever seeing a tear in his father’s eyes in all his life, until today.
“This really isn’t a good look for you,” Brian said. He beamed as he entered the room.
Mr. Bertram released Tristan, pinched at the bridge of his nose, then cleared his throat. Mrs. Bertram stroked Tristan’s cheek before backing away from the bed so Brian could move closer.
Assuming they were doing the bro-back-pat, Tristan raised his hand to grab hold of Brian’s. Except, his friend bypassed his hand and went in for a tight hug.
“Aren’t you supposed to be away at college?” Tristan asked with a smile.
“I’ve got this friend who has his own jet, so I can pretty much come and go as I please.” Brian grinned as he backed away.
“You scared us,” Tranae said. She wiped at her tears as she hugged him.
“I’m sorry.” Tristan gave her a reassuring squeeze then released her.
He looked around at his family and friends who smiled at him. Then the atmosphere in the room changed and it seemed to Tristan a bit too quiet. Everyone parted and a path was created for Vivian. She walked over to Tristan and took his hand in hers. She bent forward, touching her cheek to his. The act took him by surprise.
“Glad to have you back,” Vivian whispered in his ear.
Tristan knew his expression was one of awe and...he wasn’t afraid to admit, fear, as Vivian straightened and moved aside. When Vivian moved out of the way, Tristan saw Zeta standing against the wall by the door. She looked uncomfortable but smiled and gave him a halfhearted wave. Tristan shook his head. He wasn’t going to let her get away with closing herself off. He held his arms out, motioning her to him.
Tranae pushed Zeta forward.
Zeta held her head low as she reluctantly moved close enough for him to pull her in.
“Don’t look so sad.” Tristan embraced her. “I will be out of here and training again in no time.” Zeta smiled but pulled back. Tristan noted the unshed tears in her eyes before she scurried off to hold up the wall again. He also noticed the look Vivian and Dr. Bannerman shared when he spoke to Zeta.
Before he could ask what the look was about, his father cleared his throat again. “Well everyone, I think we need to give Cianne and Tristan some time alone.”
Tristan felt a tinge of sadness seeing his family and friends leave but he had important things to discuss with Cianne. He watched everyone slowly clear the room, each promising or requesting more time with him later, with the exception of Zeta, who didn’t say anything or make any promises, which niggled at Tristan.
Was she creeped out by sick people and hospitals? He wondered if Zeta had ever lost anyone close to her. Something had to be responsible for her to close herself off like this. She was probably terrified.
Tristan decided that he would do his best to show her that he was fine.
When the room was cleared, Cianne poked her head in and smiled at him then retreated. Tristan’s heart raced and his breath hitched at the mere sight of her, it always had. He wondered if the day would ever come when her effect on him would dim. As he waited for her, he knew that nothing would ever change for him concerning his love for Cianne.
The door opened again and Cianne walked in carrying what looked like a baby. Our baby. Everything slowed as he pushed himself up higher in the bed. He blinked. Then blinked again. Tristan raised his hands off his lap then thought better and lowered them. His eyes met Cianne’s then moved to the bundle in her arms as she walked over to the bed.
“This is your daughter, Nadia Kayla Bertram.” Cianne lowered the baby so he could see her. “Say hello to your daddy, Nadia.” The baby made low slurping sounds as she sucked on her little tongue.
Tristan looked at his daughter then up at Cianne. This is really happening. “She’s...” he paused as he looked at his daughter again, “she’s real. This is real?”
“She’s real,” Cianne whispered then sucked in a breath as she began to cry. “Would you like to hold her?”
Tristan held his palms up. “No,” he said quickly. He looked up at Cianne nervously. “What if I hurt her? She’s so small and...and beautiful,” he said.
“You won’t hurt her,” Cianne said then sniffed. She slowly placed Nadia in his outstretched arms. Cianne sat down next to him on the bed then looked to the door. “I’m ready,” she called out.
Tristan couldn’t help tensing when he saw Caleb push the door open but he immediately relaxed when Tranae entered holding a blue bundle. Tristan looked at Tranae then he looked to Cianne with questioning eyes. Tranae, who had tears running from her eyes, smiled as she carefully placed the bundle in Cianne’s arms, then she backed away and left the room.
“And this, is your son, Aidan Joseph Arlington Bertram.” Cianne held the sleeping baby up so Tristan could see him.
Aidan stirred a bit but didn’t wake.
Tristan closed his eyes then opened them slowly. Cianne’s expression was guarded, as if she was waiting for him to say something, as tears rolled down her face. But he was speechless. Nothing could or would ever mean more to him than this moment and he had no words to express that.
Nadia made a tiny sound, drawing his attention to her. Tristan then moved his gaze to Aidan who rested in Cianne’s arms. They were their children. This was his life. Cianne had given him clarity, a purpose, herself, and two perfect children.
Tristan opened his mouth to speak but was only able to mumble something incoherent as he leaned forward and placed his hand on Cianne’s cheek then wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. Pulling her close, he kissed her several times on her mouth and face.
“Thank you,” he said as he sucked in a gulp of air. Tristan cried freely, kissing her lips over and over again.
“Thank you for loving me,” she sobbed.
