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Langley’s Estate, U.S.
May, a little over a week after the Fasen.
Perkins took a needed deep breath but his temper was rising. “If you’d just listen to me and stop being so damn condescending!” he yelled as he watched Cassius walk by him without a glance.
Cassius put the bag he was carrying in the trunk of the car then turned around to face Perkins. “You listen to me,” Cassius said. “We already know who killed the Sovereign. The son of a bitch’s image is plastered all over the security tapes. That’s all I need.”
“So, the dead woman who was found in the room with the Sovereign doesn’t interest you at all?” It was just like the Quende to disregard something so important just because the woman found dead with Sovereign Harper was missing a few genetic anomalies, which made her all human. “Not to mention the fact that Caleb has never been caught on any of our security cameras in the past...I don’t know...forever, but the night he allegedly comes to kill Sovereign Harper, he somehow couldn’t avoid them. Why would he be so careless after all these years?” Perkins pointed out.
Cassius shook his head. “I don’t care why. That Middling was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and Caleb killed her for it.”
Perkins followed Cassius around the truck. “Who was she then?”
“Who, what, and why is none of our damn business,” Cassius said as he got in the back seat of the truck and slammed the door but rolled down the rear window. “Look Perkins, I know that you police officers follow a formula, that you’ve forgotten the way we do things. Me and my men are going to make that son of a bitch pay for what he’s done and I’ll be damned if you are going to hold me up a minute longer because you feel that I need to convince you of his guilt with clues and evidence. His comeuppance is long overdue. So, if you don’t mind Officer Perkins, my team has spotted Caleb in San Antonio.” Cassius tapped the headrest of the driver’s seat. The car moved forward. “Watch your toes.”
Perkins cursed. The nerve of that self-righteous prick. He watched the vehicle ride down the driveway in disbelief. Cassius was really going to dismiss the dead human who was found with Sovereign Harper. There was a reason she was there. That girl was the key and Perkins knew it, but it seemed he was the only one who thought so.
***
Home of Cianne & Tristan
CALEB climbed through the open window on the second floor. Getting into the house unnoticed was difficult but it wasn’t impossible. There was little to no cover leading up to the house for a person who didn’t want to be seen by anyone or anything except for the night sky. The good thing was that, if he was discovered, the closest neighbors were far enough away that they couldn’t see or hear any disorder coming from the people who lived in the home he had just entered.
It was dark in the room but he needed no light. Caleb stepped around the bedroom furniture, making virtually no sound. He walked over to the door that led to the hallway and listened. When he felt comfortable that his path was clear, Caleb opened the door slowly. He walked casually to the master bedroom and searched for what he came for.
“You’re getting careless.” Tristan said as he entered the dark room.
“Not careless,” Caleb said. With his back to Tristan, he continued to search the jewelry box. “Just not concerned.”
Tristan moved exceedingly fast, faster than Caleb would have guessed possible for a human, even with Protector abilities. Caleb was truly impressed, but Tristan wasn’t fast enough. Finding what he came for, Caleb turned just as Tristan swung on him. Caleb stepped back, raising his own fist and bringing it down hard onto Tristan’s back. Tristan stumbled forward from the impact but didn’t fall because Caleb grabbed him by the neck.
Lifting him off the floor with one hand, Caleb looked up at Tristan as he applied pressure to his throat. Tristan struggled to free himself but it was no use. “Even with the great Cassius’ instruction you are no match for me, son. I can call you son, right?” Caleb smiled. “See, the thing is son, none of you are much of a match for me. Even when Cassius had his power he was just my plaything and now your general is reduced to a mere man so...”
Caleb stopped mid-sentence. Yes, he had Tristan by the neck but his hold wasn’t what caused the pain that reflected in the boy’s face. Suddenly Tristan was pulled from his grasp. Tristan moved through the air like a bullet. Caleb whipped his head around in time to see Tristan land on his feet but quickly fall to his knees in pain.
“Cianne don’t—” That was all Caleb was able to say because he was hit with a sudden wave of intense heat. Caleb took a step back, pivoting his body sideways in an attempt to avoid the next invisible energy blast that came toward him. He saw Cianne move into the room. Her eyes were completely red, and the look on her face was pure hatred. That hate was for him and him alone but...
Caleb glanced over at Tristan. The boy was truly impressive because he was now on his feet, speaking to Cianne in a calming manner, and moving toward her. The fool, what is he doing? Caleb had only seconds to think. He looked at Cianne again, not long, but his quick examination was enough to make a decision. It was one that he would regret in a minute or sooner.
Caleb raised his hand in Tristan’s direction. Tristan launched into the hallway and over the second-floor banister. After the half-second his attention was diverted, Caleb felt an intense blow to his chest. The force of it pushed him onto the six-drawer chest and into the wall. He rebounded forward and stretched his hands out to brace for another impact.
Can’t take another one of those.
Caleb glanced at Cianne before jumping to his feet then launching himself out of the second story window. He tucked into a roll when he hit the grass. He pushed to his feet then looked up at the window he just jumped from. He ignored the pain in his chest, but his lungs burned. He coughed, a mixture of blood and vomit spraying from his mouth. He cursed the pain then took off in a dead run.
He ran the length of the large property and four more blocks to his car in less than ten seconds. Once inside his vehicle, he moved his rearview mirror so he could look at his eyes. A redness in his pupils was glowing and growing outward, slowly overcoming the whites of his eyes.
“No,” he said. Winded, Caleb squeezed his eyes closed. “No...damn it, please no,” Caleb begged as he fought back his anger.
He opened his hand and focused on the ring he took from Cianne’s jewelry box and placed it on his finger. His ring. Thoughts of Kayla filled his mind, her smiling, eating, and rubbing her pregnant belly. Calmed, the darkness retreated.
Caleb looked at his reflection once more. Satisfied, he straightened his rearview mirror. He put the car in drive and peeled off at full speed.
***
TRISTAN held on to the banister tightly with one hand as his feet dangled over the wide open great room below.
“Tristan!” Tranae screamed from the first floor, “what the hell is going on?”
He pulled himself up and over the banister with ease. “Check on the children,” he yelled as he ran into his bedroom and jumped out of the window. Cianne and Caleb went through it only a minute before.
A few feet away, he found Cianne standing as still as a statue. Her back was to him so he cautiously took slow, deliberate, steps. “Ci,” he said as he moved closer.
Cianne spun around so fast that Tristan stumbled back. Her eyes were soulless and completely red as they stared vacantly back at him. She gave him a look that suggested he was a stranger to her. Anger and aggression poured from her and was directed at him.
This is new.
Undeterred, Tristan took another careful step toward her, but when he put all his weight on his front foot, he sprinted to her. Taking Cianne captive in his arms, he spoke into her ear. “Come back to me, Ci.” He felt her tense briefly before her body went limp in his arms. Tristan cradled his wife in his arms, kissing her head as he carried her back to their house.
***
“IT’S alright Ci,” Tristan said as he got up from the reclining chair he slept in. He walked over to their bed and sat down next to her.
“Caleb?” she asked. Her face was wet with perspiration.
“We searched but weren’t able to find him.” Tristan pulled a strand of her wet hair away from her eyes. Her gaze fell on his bandaged hand. “It’s fine, only two fingers were broken. They’re healed, I just forgot to remove the bandage.”
Her eyes took on a haunted look. “You have to stay away from him,” she said frantically. “Promise me you’ll never go after him again, Tristan.” She gripped his arm when he didn’t respond right away. “Promise me.”
Tristan kissed her on the head. Pulling away, he looked at her lovingly. “Relax,” he told her. “Look, Cassius and the Guard are downstairs. Everyone has been waiting for you to wake up.”
“How long have I been out?”
He grimaced. “A little less than a day,” Tristan told her as he kissed her chin. The panic in her eyes flared. He knew exactly what was wrong. “The children are fine.” Relief washed over her as she fell back onto her pillows. Tristan crawled up on the bed and lay beside her. He looked up at the ceiling.
“Ci,” he said quietly, “I think you should maybe work with someone to learn how to control your powers. You...scared the hell out of me.”
“I won’t hurt you.” She turned to him and sat up on one arm.
Tristan absently rubbed his fingers up her arm. “That’s not what scares me. It was like you weren’t even you anymore.”
She pushed his hand away then pushed off the bed. “What are you talking about?”
Tristan got up too. Cianne didn’t seem to remember what happened. If she didn’t know then that meant she wasn’t conscious when it was happening. “It’s happened twice already. I was told that the day you thought I died that your eyes turned red. You destroyed an operating room without lifting a finger.”
Cianne backed away from the bed. She pushed away Tristan’s hand when he reached for her. “That was different.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes. “I’m afraid that there’s a chance that you won’t return from where ever it is you go when that side of you appears. When it takes over you’re not...with us.”
“I can control it.” Determination webbed through each word. “It has only happened twice, right? Both times I was upset.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Maybe anger is the trigger. I can handle it.”
“I looked into your eyes Ci.” He laid his hand on the side of her face. Cianne closed her eyes briefly, seemingly relishing the warmth of his touch. “And I saw nothing of you in there.”
“I just need a little more time, Tristan. I promise if I can’t get a handle on it, I’ll get help. I’ve come back every time, didn’t I?”
Tristan looked into her eyes. Fear, love, and acceptance were all present and it ate at his resolve. He leaned in and kissed her full lips. “My kids need their mother and I need my wife. I want you safe, so consider what I’ve asked,” he said. Then he grimaced. “The kids are asleep. I’ll make you something to eat. Join us downstairs when you’re ready.”
Thirty minutes later Cianne stepped into the kitchen. She shyly rubbed her arm then said, “Hi.”
Tristan wondered how someone so beautiful, so amazing as his wife, could still be self-conscious among the people who would lay down their lives for her.
He pulled out a chair for her to sit in. After she was seated he placed a plate in front of her. “Tranae called,” he said as he sat next to her. He pushed the plate closer to her when she didn’t pick up the fork next to it. “I told her you would call her early tomorrow morning.”
Cianne gave him a slight smile that told him she heard him, but still she didn’t touch her food. Tristan then turned his attention to Cassius. “So, the tip that Caleb was seen in Texas was a ploy.”
“To get us away from the house,” Cassius agreed.
Tristan lifted the fork and impaled a piece of cubed chicken and a piece of broccoli. Cianne took the fork from his hand as he waved it in front of her mouth. He waited until she put the food in her mouth before he turned away. “But why go through the trouble?” Tristan said his thought out loud but it was meant only for him.
“He didn’t want to be apprehended,” Jacobi said. He leaned against the wall behind Cassius, slowly peeling an orange.
Cianne lifted her head. Tristan watched as she peered at Jacobi for a moment. When he saw a hint of recognition smooth over her face, she relaxed, then fear quickly replaced her calm expression. Her gaze whipped to Tristan. He didn’t speak but hoped that she read the warning in his eyes.
Tristan also had concerns about his young friend’s first rotation into their security team but he had no say, unless Cianne accepted the crown. With Caleb on the loose, Eldra and Brenna decided that he, Cianne, and the children needed a full security detail.
He had no doubt that Oloyede and Shane, the men with whom he and Jacobi went through the Maatii challenge, would have volunteered as well, but they were already assigned. Jacobi, a fearless kid who thought he was invincible, was now in harm’s way, just like they were. It bothered Tristan just as much as it bothered Cianne.
Perkins looked at the rookie Guard. A smirk twisted one corner of his mouth. Tristan had a feeling Perkins was remembering a time when he had Jacobi’s gung-ho attitude.
“He doesn’t fear being caught,” Cianne interjected. She looked around the table at the men one by one until her eyes met Tristan’s. “Caleb is stronger and more powerful than all of us. If he wants us dead,” she said, “he’ll come for us and none of us will be able to stop him.”
“You stopped him,” he said to her. “You even hurt him.”
Cianne pushed the plate away. “You don’t understand. He didn’t come here to kill us. If he had, we wouldn’t be sitting here.” She looked down and moved her fingers slowly over the napkin in front of her. “I don’t know why, but I think he came for his ring.”
The ring, Tristan thought. But why?
“So, what do we do, wait until he feels the urge to kill again? If he can’t be tracked or defeated then what are we supposed to do?” Jacobi calmly asked. He popped a slice of orange in his mouth.
“We prepare. So that we are ready for his next appearance,” Cassius said confidently. “I’ll have more Guards here by Thursday morning.”
“No,” Tristan said, his eyes meeting Cianne’s. They were in agreement. “No more Guards.”
“There’s no need to risk anyone else. That goes for all of you too.” Cianne looked at Jacobi, then Cassius, and Perkins.
Jacobi pushed off the wall and walked over to Cianne. He got down on one knee. “I’m here to protect you and your family of my own free will. It is an honor and I understand fully what that means.”
Cianne grimaced. She looked at Tristan, pleading with those sultry eyes of hers. He would give her anything but not this. He couldn’t emasculate a warrior, even one so young. “Jacobi will be fine,” Tristan promised.
That seemed to appease her.
“Felix and Kim will want to stay as well,” Cassius added. The two veteran Guards were outside making rounds, unseen of course.
“Alright,” Cianne said, hesitantly.
“Jacobi, Felix, and Kim will stay here on the property if it’s alright with you. I will remain at Langley’s place,” Cassius said.
Cianne waved away the comment. “We have more than enough room.”
“I have to be going.” Cassius stood. He lowered his head to Cianne then to Tristan. “I’ll inform Kim and Felix of the arrangements. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
Jacobi stood, bowed his head, then followed Cassius out of the kitchen before the others stood.
“Sir, if you have a moment?”
Tristan planned to chastise Cianne. Her food sat basically untouched, but he looked at Perkins. “Sure Perkins,” Tristan said, then pushed out of his seat. “But only if you stop calling me sir.” Tristan kissed Cianne on the forehead before leaving the kitchen with Perkins. They walked toward the front door slowly.
“I want to follow a hunch. Doing so would mean that I won’t be here if you need me.”
“You don’t need my permission, Perkins. Cianne hasn’t taken the oath. Any assistance from you guys is strictly appreciated but purely voluntary. If you need to go...then by all means be safe.” Tristan extended his hand to Perkins.
Perkins gripped his elbow firmly. “I’ll keep in touch.”
Tristan watched as Perkins stepped down the porch stairs. Perkins was one of the true good guys in the world. He was a Coesen who Vivian placed in the local police department during the kidnapping investigation. Tristan never even knew the guy was a Coesen then. Even though Tristan still didn’t know Perkins all that well and he didn’t know his story, he trusted the guy.
Bertram End of the Month Dinner
“If you want I can call Dr. Lawrence. I’m sure he can do home visits, if she’s not up to leaving the house yet.” Mrs. Bertram said as she watched Aidan put the spoon full of peas to his mouth. Aidan managed to get every pea in.
Tristan saw the amazement in his mother’s eyes as she watched Aidan eat. His potatoes and bits of meat were still neatly separated, but almost gone as he dipped his spoon for another bite.
“Oh Nadia,” his mother said, amusement on her face. Nadia was putting her hands in her bowl, clutching some peas then smashing them in her mouth. The other food from her bowl was smashed in Nadia’s lap or in her hair. Mrs. Bertram took a napkin and wiped Nadia’s face and hands. “Good girl,” she said, kissing Nadia’s fingers.
Tristan looked down at his half-eaten plate of food then shook his head. “No. I’d rather she make the decision for herself.” He wasn’t going to suggest another therapist. Especially since he went along with her father in encouraging her to see Dr. Garrison, a child molesting murderer who apparently rubbed Caleb the wrong way, which led to his disappearance.
“How is she doing, really?” Mr. Bertram looked at his son.
“Honestly,” Tristan said, “she’s doing fine. She didn’t want to miss this Sunday’s dinner but she’s been tired lately.”
Tristan pushed away from the table then stood. He pulled Nadia out of the highchair.
“I’ll change her,” his father said. He stood up and took the baby from Tristan’s arms. Mr. Bertram held her up in the air and looked at her. “Hey baby girl,” he said as he smiled at her. Nadia laughed, showing two little teeth that were poking through a thin white layer of her pink gums. Mr. Bertram kissed her dirty face then carried her out of the dining room.
Mrs. Bertram wiped Aidan’s mouth with a napkin then picked at his glossy black curly hair with her fingers. She looked over at Tristan. “You look tired. Are you guys getting enough sleep?” she inquired.
Tristan knew it wasn’t sleep he lacked or missed. He could go two weeks with only a couple hours of sleep, without feeling the effects of sleep deprivation, thanks to the upgrade from Cianne when Caleb unbound her abilities she inherited from him.
“As much as any couple with twins,” he answered, then frowned. Now, finding time for intimacy...
“We’d be happy to take them off your hands for a few days,” his mother said. She wiggled her brows suggestively.
Tristan frowned again. “That’s my cue,” he said then stood. He collected some of the used dishes that sat on the table.
“Put those dishes down,” his mother told him, “and if you can’t trust your parents then who can you trust?”
The agitation in her tone was unmistakable. Tristan put the pile of dishes back on the table. “Mom, the twins are a hand full. They’re unique,” he told her, “and there’s a lot going on right now.”
“More reason to let us keep them for a few days. You and Cianne could use a break.” She stood up and took Aidan from the highchair.
Tristan reached for his son. Aidan leaned away, as if he didn’t want to go either. His son never refused him. Tristan shook off his son’s odd behavior and took Aidan from his mother. “Maybe we can set something up in the future.”
Tristan walked to the hearth room where his father was just finishing changing Nadia’s clothing. His mother followed close behind. While Tristan strapped Aidan in the car seat/carrier she gathered the children’s things.
“Looks like your daddy is ready to go, sweetie,” Mr. Bertram said to Nadia. He kissed her before strapping her in her car seat/carrier.
Tristan walked over and checked Nadia’s restraints then looked at his mother. He could see she wanted them to stay longer. He felt bad for not allowing them more time together but he worried.
“Excuse me for a moment,” he said leaving the room. He walked into the hallway and into the first-floor powder room. Taking his phone from his pocket, he called Cianne. “Mrs. Bertram,” he said with a smile.
“Yes, dear husband?” she answered.
He could almost see her smile in his head. “Did I wake you?”
“Not really,” Cianne told him.
Tristan didn’t contest her claim even though he heard her yawn. For several seconds, he just listened to her breathe. It was so long since he listened to her steady breaths. He remembered when he first discovered that her breathing soothed him. It was a month after their first date when she fell asleep watching television on his sofa. That day he knew he would love her forever.
“How’s your parents?” Cianne asked, breaking the silence.
“Good, no... Yeah, good,” he said, stumbling over his words. She took his mind away from the reason he was calling. “They really miss the twins, Ci.”
“Then why don’t you leave them there for a few hours. Isn’t there a new possible site Kevin wanted you to see?”
Kevin was his project manager, and the brother-in-law of a man Cianne named Cook. Cook saved her life and that bonded Tristan to his family forever.
“You can check out the site then pick the babies up when you’re done.”
A drive would relax his mind, some. It wasn’t as effective as Cianne’s presence or her breathing but driving calmed him.
“I love you,” he said softly.
“Then let me go back to sleep.” She laughed.
“Sweet dreams.” Tristan ended the call.
When Tristan entered the room where his family waited, he walked over to Aidan. “Alright big guy, you two are staying with grams and gramps for a few hours,” he explained. “You are in charge, be good.” Tristan raised his brows high. He looked at Nadia. “You too, little miss.”
Mrs. Bertram frowned at his instructions, but Tristan knew the twins understood him. He kissed them both, kissed his parents, then left.
As Tristan drove down his parent’s driveway he called Jacobi. He explained that he was leaving the children with his parents for a few hours while he took care of some business elsewhere. Jacobi and Kim were to stay with the children but remain out of sight unless they were needed.
The drive to the site would take a little over an hour according to Tristan’s GPS. Avoiding the highway would allow him to enjoy the drive much more but he wanted to quickly get to the site and back. He didn’t like leaving the children, especially with his Middling parents.
After driving fifteen miles or so, Tristan began to feel unusually tired. He turned up the radio and rolled his window down. An exit he wasn’t too familiar with was coming up but Tristan decided he needed a cup of coffee. He shifted his body a little to the left so the wind coming through the window could hit his face as he took the off ramp that led to a three-way traffic light. He bore off to the right, which was Canyon road.
It appeared to be a long scenic road. There were no gas stations or even another car in sight.
Tristan raised his hand to his forehead. His hand came away wet with perspiration. He was sweating. It was something he didn’t do anymore. Confused, he wiped his forehead again and looked at his hand. It was sweat.
He leaned forward, keeping the car driving straight as he touched his stomach with his free hand. The onset of pain was tolerable but the sudden itch he felt in the back of his throat and his frantic cough seemed more immediate. Blood sprayed from his mouth, over his dashboard and passenger seat.
Because he never got sick, Tristan knew this was beyond a simple stomach virus. He glanced at his reflection in his rearview mirror. His face was pale and the skin under his eyes looked bruised. On his mouth, he saw specks of blood.
It was then, as Tristan stole glimpses of himself in the rearview mirror, that he noticed the car behind him. Suspicious, he surveyed the red convertible that was close. He couldn’t help thinking that his sudden illness and the car’s occupants were connected. Ignoring the pain in his stomach and the burning of his eyes, Tristan increased his speed.
The convertible matched his speed.
The two vehicles reached speeds up to a hundred and ten miles per hour as they drove on the empty road. Tristan tried to keep ahead of the convertible but he was finding it increasingly hard to keep focused. His eyes grew heavy and his senses dulled with each passing moment. His speed and control of the car was failing too.
His vehicle toggled from one side of the road, clipping the pursuing convertible, but the driver maintained control. Tristan slowly turned his head and looked out of his side window as the convertible pulled up alongside of him.
Who he saw alarmed him but he had no energy to strike out. Feeling drained, something he was unfamiliar with, Tristan fought hard to stay alert. He called out to Cianne in his mind before his head wobbled and darkness enveloped him.
***
CALEB cursed. When Tristan began to drive erratically, he decided that keeping a safe distance was no longer an option. He pushed down the gas pedal and sped up alongside Tristan’s vehicle. Driving on the oncoming traffic side of the road, he peered into the car. Tristan peered back at him before his head rolled back and his eyes closed.
Caleb veered to the left to avoid being sideswiped again.
He knew that this stretch of road would soon be turning into a curve that overlooked a canyon. So he sped up, passing Tristan’s car. Once he was out in front he took his foot from the gas so that his convertible could be rear-ended by Tristan’s car. Both vehicles were still traveling at a high rate of speed. Even so, when the car collided with his convertible, Caleb climbed into the back seat of the convertible and jumped onto the hood of Tristan’s car.
Caleb used his closed fist to bust through Tristan’s windshield. The tempered glass fell in little chunks all over Tristan and the inside of his car. Caleb quickly ripped the seatbelt off and attempted to pull Tristan free of his seat but the car jolted to one side, causing him to lose his grip. Caleb grabbed the steering wheel to straighten the car then looked over his shoulder to gauge the distance of straight road that was left. Road was running out fast but the grill of Tristan’s vehicle clung to the convertible’s bumper, and the road friction slowed their progression some. He could smell burning rubber.
The convertible was such a nice car. He shrugged.
Caleb turned back to Tristan, who was unconscious. With a good grip this time, he began to lift Tristan out of the driver’s seat. The dead weight was not a problem for him and being cautious wasn’t his usual thing but he couldn’t risk injuring the boy more than what he already was.
As he managed to get Tristan partially free he noticed another car speeding toward them. His inner warnings flared. Caleb narrowed his gaze at the gray car as it slammed into the rear bumper of Tristan’s vehicle. He once again lost his grip on Tristan but easily managed to remain steady.
Caleb gathered Tristan’s shirt in his fist and raised him again, this time pulling the boy free from the car. Holding Tristan down firmly on the hood, Caleb looked into the gray car, which pulled up beside Tristan’s vehicle. The man in the passenger seat sneered at him but the driver kept his eyes forward. Caleb sighed. He had no time for them, yet here he was with his patience wearing thin.
How thin? They would soon find out.
The brooding passenger pointed a gun and began firing at them. Caleb shielded Tristan with his body, not caring what bullets hit him. When the shooting stopped, he raised his hand at their vehicle, lifting the front tires from the road. The car flipped backward in the air a few times before landing hard on its roof.
Perfectly balanced on the hood of Tristan’s car, Caleb climbed onto the trunk of his convertible, and tossed Tristan’s limp body into the back seat. He jumped into the driver’s seat, hit the gas pedal, and twisted the wheel sharply just in time to separate from the bumper of Tristan’s car before it went off the cliff. The convertible skidded over dirt and into what was left of the road barrier. He whipped the wheel to the side, causing the convertible to skid again, but Caleb quickly regained control and guided the car back the way they came.
He glanced in his rearview mirror when he heard an explosion, and saw a puff of heavy black smoke and reddish yellow flames that rose into the blue sky behind them. Caleb moved the rearview mirror so he could look in the back seat at Tristan.
“Well, shit,” he said, in a matter of fact manner. Beneath the pocket of the khaki pants Tristan wore, a red stain of blood was soaking through the fibers.
Caleb peered at the overturned gray vehicle as he cruised by. One of the men lay still and bloody in the wreckage while the other lay a few feet away on the side of the road. They both looked dead, but...for good measure, Caleb reached his hand out to each unmoving body. He squeezed his hand in a fist then released his fingers into a dramatic flair. He heard every bone in each man’s body shatter.
If they weren’t dead, they are now.
***
BANNERMAN absently rubbed his aching neck. “You know you could have just asked me to come along,” he winced. He would have gotten in the vehicle with Caleb with no fuss. He’d been dying to get close enough to the elusive man since hearing that he still lived, because examining Caleb would be like a dream come true for a doctor and scientist.
He relished any opportunity presented to him to catalog what he could about the legend. Even Caleb’s aggression and his odd request to bring some of Tristan’s stored blood samples didn’t get more than a curious look from Bannerman.
He sensed Caleb didn’t want to talk during the drive, so against his inquisitive nature he kept his mouth shut. When they pulled in to the parking lot of the less than luxurious motel an hour later, the first thing that caught his eye was the mint green and cream siding. Next, he noted the faded peach doors. The opposing hues and the years of accumulated dirt made him cringe.
Bannerman expected better of the Boogieman. He frowned as he read the sign that towered over the two-story structure. “SHADES MOTEL”.
Caleb dressed like a wealthy playboy, so this dirt palace concerned Bannerman. But, who knew what kind of places killers preferred to lay their heads?
Caleb got out of the sedan and walked around the hood to meet him on the other side. “Second floor, third room from the end,” Caleb said coldly.
Bannerman’s curiosity was peaked. Dirty motel, Caleb the mass murderer, and a couple of bags of blood. Can you say party? He should probably be scared but he was too busy taking mental notes every second he spent with Caleb.
When Bannerman reached the room, Caleb reached around him and opened the heavy peach door then stepped aside so he could enter first. Figuring this was unlikely a trap, Bannerman looked into the small dark room before stepping inside.
Someone lay unmoving on the bed. Bannerman hurried inside once realizing who. Never before had he allowed his emotions to override common sense until now. Standing over Tristan, he glanced over his shoulder at Caleb with barely restrained fear for his Soahn.
He lifted each of Tristan’s eyelids and noticed his pupils were unresponsive. “You must allow me to take him to the hospital,” he said.
“No,” Caleb said without hesitation or room to negotiate. “Treat him here.”
Bannerman saw that the nightstand was full of medical supplies. He looked to the trash can next to the bed and noted a pile of bloody gauze. What the hell? He pulled the floral bedspread down to Tristan’s ankles, gasping at the quarter-sized spot of blood that was beginning to soak through the wrapping around his thigh.
***
CALEB raised his brow at the man’s reaction to the bullet wound–he was a doctor, it was a bullet. What’s the big deal? “I removed the bullet,” Caleb said in a matter of fact way. “He was out before he got shot.”
Caleb walked over to the window and peeked out onto the street. He got a room where he could see the entire road clearly. He watched an eighteen-wheeler fly by but movement from Bannerman going into the bathroom pulled his attention back to what was happening in the room.
The sounds of the bathroom faucet turning on and running water reached Caleb but he couldn’t see through walls to know exactly what the doctor was doing. Caleb trusted few people, and no, not a single Coesen; but Bannerman had proven to be more scientist than Coesen. Bannerman keeping Tristan’s existence secret from his sovereign proved that.
A few seconds later the doctor made his way back to the bed. Caleb watched as Bannerman got to his knees and unwrapped the dressing around Tristan’s thigh.
“The wound is nicely stitched.”
“I know,” Caleb said.
Bannerman smirked at the comment but looked over his shoulder and peered at him with creased brows for several seconds.
Caleb sighed. “Ask your question.”
“What was he doing before he was shot?”
“Driving,” Caleb said.
Bannerman lifted Tristan’s hand and twisted it to look at his fingertips. Caleb noticed they were turning black.
“He’s been poisoned,” Bannerman gasped as he backed away. He turned to face Caleb, his face drained of color. “He needs to be treated in a hospital.”
“Treat him here or he dies. If he dies...” Caleb didn’t finish the rest. The ache in his chest returned but he didn’t give in to it. Like always, he used the ache to fuel his determination, which reflected on his face.
Bannerman and Caleb stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. Caleb sighed again. “Relax, if I wanted you dead, you’d be the first to know.”
The doctor blinked a few times then let out a breath. “Fine then...if you will not let me take him to a sterile equipped facility then I will need some things to treat him here.” Bannerman rolled up his sleeves then looked around as if looking for something.
“Just tell me what you need.”
The anxious look on Bannerman’s face was priceless as he stared at Caleb. Finally, he said, “You’re going to want to jot this down.”
“Just tell me.”
“I have a safe, you need the combination,” Bannerman told him.
Caleb tapped his head. The doctor gave him an exhausted look but started to list the combination and the items needed. When Bannerman finished, Caleb walked to the door but looked over his shoulder and said, “Once I’m gone there will be nothing stopping you from leaving this room or calling the Guard. If you care for his safety,” Caleb looked at Tristan then back to Bannerman, “then you won’t do either. Someone in your organization wants him dead and I need to find out who. Whatever issue you may have with me needs to be set aside for now. Everyone, including my daughter, needs to think Tristan died in that attack today.”
Caleb allowed the information he divulged to Bannerman to sink in. The different expressions on the doctor’s face told Caleb that he was working through it.
“Tristan’s safety has always been my first priority.”
Before Caleb opened the door, he said, “It seems we are on the same team.”
