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TRISTAN popped his eyes open and clutched his temples. It only lasted a second, but the sound of Cianne’s voice exploded in his head, ricocheting through it like a weapon instead of a gentle caress. When the pounding subsided, he let his hands slide down over his eyes.
Aware, but a bit cloudy, he felt his face under his fingertips. It was as if he hadn’t felt his fingers moving or his face in years. Tristan pulled his hands from his face and looked at them. He wiggled his fingers in front of his eyes. Confused, he moved both his legs but soon realized they were covered with a sheet.
He was in bed but it felt...odd. The scent of it, the room, wasn’t familiar.
Grimacing, Tristan eased himself up in the bed then pulled the sheet back. He touched the sensitive area of his thigh that was wrapped with a bandage. More confused than ever, he got out the bed and stood. It took time for him to find his balance; he dismissed it but moved slowly.
This wasn’t his bed. Not his bedroom.
Get home. Cianne and the kids are waiting for me.
Tristan looked around the room for an exit but noted his surroundings. The room contained a bed, a dresser, and a chair. All the furniture was mahogany and looked well-made and heavy. There were no decorations in the room at all, other than a pair of long black curtains that covered a large window.
Aware that he only wore a pair of long basketball shorts, Tristan walked over to the drawer for a shirt but all the drawers were empty. He looked to the closet.
When Tristan moved his right foot toward the closet, he stopped. Feeling lightheaded he braced himself on the dresser for a moment before pushing off and making his way to the closet. Inside he found some sweat pants and a sweat jacket hanging up.
Running shoes were on the floor under a number of empty hangers. Tristan quickly pulled the sweat pants up his legs, using the wall to brace himself. He moved his arms into the sweat jacket sleeves and zippered it up. Dressed, he put on the sneakers, shrugging at the realization that they fit. Actually, all the clothing fit even though he didn’t recognize any of it.
Pushing that disturbing revelation out of his head, he went to the one door that was shut. The other door was open and it led to a bathroom.
Tristan placed his ear to the door and listened. When he was sure no one was on the other side of the door he opened it. “A cabin,” he said aloud. He couldn’t tell from the bedroom but now, looking around the open space, he could tell it was a mid-sized moderately furnished cabin. Only everything looked as if it had never been used.
Tristan wobbled out of the doorway and into the open space of the cabin. He stabilized himself by leaning on the wall then made his way across the living area to the front door. Slowly he turned the knob and was surprised to find that the door wasn’t locked. Opening the door with his left hand and bracing the frame and the door with his free hand; he quietly eased the door open.
Tristan peeked out of the door. As far as he could tell the coast was clear. He stepped outside and looked around.
Nothing but trees.
He walked down a few steps and looked down at the ground in front of him. No car tracks, he thought. How did I get here?
It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting home.
Tristan took a step, but before his foot fully touched the ground he angled forward, dug his back foot into the ground, then took off in a sprint into the forest. He couldn’t manage his full speed because his body ached and he felt weak. He didn’t know how long he was out of it or how long he’d been in the cabin. But, his body wasn’t thinner and he didn’t feel dehydrated so he figured that he couldn’t have been out for long.
He was starving, though.
He wasn’t certain why his leg was bandaged but he was still mobile and able to cover about five miles in less than ten minutes. His only thought was to make it home to his family. But soon he realized he had no idea the direction he was headed or how long it would take for him to get out of the woods.
Tristan stopped in a clearing to check his aching leg and to maybe climb a tree to see if a road was nearby. Not to mention he needed to catch his breath, surprisingly.
Why am I winded?
He could normally run for thirty miles without getting winded. Yet, here he was, leaning on a tree, trying to catch his breath. As he breathed, he pulled the waist of the sweatpants down below the bandage. He was bleeding. He shook his head but it was something he couldn’t avoid right now.
Just as he was pulling the sweat pants up he felt something hit his upper right arm and shoulder. Tristan hit the ground hard. He rolled a few times over some crunchy leaves, hard rocks, and branches beneath him. He grabbed at his arm and shoulder with his left hand as he looked up and saw the bear that was already bearing down on him.
Shit!
Tristan tried scrambling to his feet but the bear swung at him again and he fell to his butt. He grunted. Feeling tired for the first time since he became a Protector, Tristan pushed with his feet, sliding away from the bear on his butt. His energy was spent. He drained himself running and had no energy left to fight with.
The enormous black bear stood over him, growling. Tristan had no other choice but to cover his head, ball up in the fetal position, and hope that the bear would think he was dead. Bracing himself for the bear’s anger, Tristan thought of Cianne and his children.
When Tristan didn’t feel sharp claws slicing through his flesh, he slowly lifted his head from under his arms. Lying a few inches from him on the ground was the massive bear, and standing directly over it was Caleb.
Tristan sat up slowly. He placed his elbows on his knees and let his hands dangle between his legs. He looked to the bear that lay lifeless next to him then to Caleb who was watching him impassively.
With his head held high, Tristan said, “I’m not the begging for my life type.”
“Good, because begging doesn’t work with me.”
Tristan blinked his eyes as Caleb raised his hand. His head suddenly became foggy. He knew what this was and was only able to say one word before passing out. “Don’t...”
When Tristan woke, he found himself back inside the cabin and in the same room. Again, he lay in the bed, only this time he wasn’t able to move freely. With great effort, he raised his heavy arm and touched his bandaged shoulder.
He chuckled. That damn bear had sliced through his flesh as if he was made of margarine. He pushed the pain out of his mind and tried to sit himself up but all he could do was move his legs a little. Angry, he was about to call out but the bedroom door opened and Caleb strode casually to his side.
Unable to fight, Tristan watched as Caleb tapped his arm then stuck a syringe in his vein and injected a dark fluid into him. Caleb then pulled down the sheet covering Tristan, exposing the shorts and his bare legs. Tristan immediately noticed there was some type of device attached to his leg.
“It’s similar to the monitoring devices that criminals on house arrest wear but you shouldn’t confuse the two. Your device will not alert me if you go outside your designated area. What it will do is send a charge through your body that will cause you immense pain until you return to your designated area...or you’ll eventually drop where you stand.”
Caleb left the room but immediately returned. He placed a plate that contained a sandwich and fresh fruit on the dresser. “You have the run of this room and the bathroom.” Caleb pointed to the door in the back of the room then turned to leave but stopped. He didn’t turn around but continued to speak telepathically. “You’re experiencing hearing loss. It’s temporary.”
My hearing is gone?
Earlier, his need to get away was so vital he didn’t realize he couldn’t hear a thing.
“Why haven’t you killed me yet?”
“I considered letting the bear have you but, I need you alive,” Caleb transferred. “Eat...you’ve been unconscious for almost a month. Any longer and I may have had to insert a feeding tube. Oh, and Happy Father’s Day.”
A week later, Tristan still was still looking for a means to escape. His gracious host left him alone for hours on end, and sometimes for days. With no television or books, he felt as if he was going crazy but he didn’t want to give Caleb the satisfaction.
Most days he just slept. It was the only way he could get a clear image of Cianne and the twins. The rest of the time he spent working out in his room. It was his attempt to remedy the weakness he was experiencing in his limbs.
During the long week, Tristan also tested the ankle monitor. It did exactly what Caleb said it did. Each time he ventured beyond the invisible barrier a few feet past the kitchen, he ended up screaming on the floor in unimaginable pain so terrible that he did indeed pass out after pissing himself.
He always woke sometime later, wiped clean and in the bed. Just thinking about it made him seethe with anger.
When he heard the front door open, Tristan sat up on his elbows and looked through the crack in his bedroom door. Caleb was gone for two days and though Tristan wouldn’t admit it, he was lonely. Plus, he was tired of eating cereal.
Tristan’s hearing was almost normal, at Middling range, but not where it was before. So, he didn’t hear the light footsteps Caleb made as he walked through the cabin and up to the bedroom door. But the smell of the hot food Caleb carried filled the air; it was pulling at him through the door, but he didn’t move.
He defiantly placed his hand behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. Tristan didn’t acknowledge Caleb when he tapped on the bedroom door but Caleb entered anyway.
Caleb walked over to the bed and placed one of the bags he carried, beside him.
Tristan glanced at the bag then watched as Caleb sat on the floor against the far wall a few feet away. He barely had time to catch the canned soda that was flying at him. If he hadn’t caught the can, it would have hit him in the face.
Still shocked, he stared at a silent Caleb who was pulling food from the other brown bag and started to eat. When Caleb didn’t acknowledge him, Tristan said, “So...we’re supposed to fucking sit here and eat like friends?”
“No, we don’t have to.” Caleb started packing up his food. “But I expect you to be civil.”
“Did you see them?”
Caleb looked at Tristan blankly before he relaxed back on the floor. “No, but I have someone watching them for me. She misses you.”
Tristan felt the familiar pain that always surged through him whenever he saw Cianne’s tears. He looked up at the ceiling to compose himself then back to Caleb who was eating as if he had not a care in the world. Anger raged in Tristan in that moment. He hurled the soda can at Caleb’s face as hard as he could.
Caleb caught the can without looking then sat it down next to his leg on the floor. “That wasn’t exactly civil.”
“Why am I here?” Tristan hissed.
“Keep you alive; keep Cianne sane. Keep Cianne sane; save the world.”
Tristan frowned, “What?”
“I’ve been given the task of keeping you alive. Doing so is difficult when you surround yourself with people who want my head on a platter.” Caleb looked up at him. “The recent attempt on your life has given me the opportunity to keep you alive and allow me to find out who’s behind Vivian’s murder and your attempted murder. Until then, you stay here, you stay safe.”
“Because you’re not behind all of this,” Tristan said with irritation.
“No, I’m not,” Caleb said plainly.
Tristan’s face paled. “If that were true then shouldn’t you be keeping Cianne and the children safe and not just me?”
Caleb raised a brow. “My daughter will be fine. I also pity the person who is ignorant enough to mess with the twins. You, on the other hand....” Caleb shrugged.
This is madness. Think Tristan...think...think.
“Cianne will think I’m dead. Your plan is fucked.”
“She knows in her heart you live,” he said in a low tone. “As long as she has hope she won’t slip into the darkness.” Caleb looked down at his food then began to eat.
The smug bastard is actually eating.
Tristan watched with hooded eyes as Caleb ate. It didn’t take long for his hunger to grow unbearable so he opened the bag, took out the sandwich, and ate in silence. As Tristan ate, he tried hard to remember how he got into this situation.
He remembered dinner with his parents, then feeling sick.
Caleb said he saved me. Did Caleb save me?
His memory was fragmented. He remembered that Caleb was there but not much else. But even though his memory of the event was incomplete, he had no doubt that if Caleb wanted him dead, he would be. So, for now, he would bide his time and wait for an opportunity to get away and back to his family.
***
CIANNE found her mind wandering so she tried to focus back on the phone call. She waited for a pause in the conversation before she said, “No. Really Brian, we are fine.” She and the children were fine, financially. In fact, Langley informed her that the Arkean royal family gathered quite a fortune over the years and she and the children were the only heirs.
“Mr. Bertram will handle all of Tristan’s finances until he returns,” Cianne said. “It’s the way I want it.” She listened to Brian speak as she looked over her shoulder at Tranae who played with Nadia and Aidan on the grass a few feet away.
Does he think Tristan is dead, she wondered? The others did but it didn’t matter. When Tristan returned, he would prove them all wrong.
Her spirits lifted a little when Brian asked about Tranae.
“Tranae is here. If you want to speak to her-”
“No,” Brian said, cutting her off. “No, I don’t think so but, how is she?” he finally asked.
“She misses you.” Cianne sighed, “She misses you a lot.”
“Yeah...I know,” he murmured. “I just can’t be what she needs right now. Look, tell her congratulations on getting that internship at the pharmacy. I know she’ll do great. Look Cianne, I’ll talk to you soon. Thanks for the pictures of the kids.” Brian took in a deep breath. “...and Cianne, what doesn’t kill us just makes us stronger.”
“That’s what you keep telling me. I’ll talk to you soon, Brian. Goodbye,” Cianne said.
With her back still to the children and Tranae, Cianne rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was exhausted. She was eating less and the headaches were back. It took all she had to keep going without him but she needed to. Tristan would expect her to keep things in line for when he returned. She planned to make him proud.
“Come home, Tristan,” she whispered.
“Excuse me, Soahn?”
Cianne rolled her eyes but turned her head slightly to her right to acknowledge her guest. “Please Whodai, call me Cianne.” His smile was apologetic when she turned to face him. “I apologize for taking so long. I’m ready now.”
“It is my honor and duty to wait for you, however long it takes,” Whodai said as he gazed into her eyes.
Cianne looked away before he saw her flushed cheeks. Whodai had a way of making her feel as if she was being inspected.
“They are ready for you,” Whodai informed her. He moved his hand under her elbow and escorted her across the lawn and into the house. “How do you feel?”
A breeze moved around Cianne, blowing her long tresses over her face as he pulled the double patio doors open. She brushed her hair away from her face. “I’m alright.”
...and she was, mostly.
They made their way through the house, heading for the underground room Tristan constructed when the house was built. To her, it resembled some kind of panic room so she named it The Tomb.
Whodai stopped abruptly, took hold of her shoulder, and turned Cianne until they were face to face. His stare was intense. “If you would prefer to postpone this, for a week or so...”
Cianne smiled. Whodai, always the gentleman, was trying to protect her. She placed her hand on his arm, feeling his muscles flex as he tensed under her touch. Feeling as if she’d overstepped some boundary, Cianne quickly removed her hand.
“It’s fine Whodai,” she said, beginning her stride again.
Whodai walked beside her. “Do you know how everything works?”
She did. Vivian insisted that she learn to execute the Veris because only their bloodline held the ability to open the plane. The Veris was the only way the Council of Four was able to meet without the fear of the entire Council being exterminated in one swift move.
“I know the gist of it,” Cianne said.
Similar to the Maatii, the members of The Four appeared in a common room on an astral plane. While in this celestial state their physical bodies are vulnerable and are watched over by their Protectors in a secured room.
“Good. Zeta will be inside the room with you. Jacobi will be outside the door and Felix will be here.” Whodai motioned to Felix who stood outside of a small sitting room located between the formal dining room and Tristan’s home office.
The room was shaped like a half circle with white walls except for one which was a pale gray with two very thick floor-to-ceiling glass mirrors on it. Two white half circle seats faced each other in the center of the room. In between the seats was a round smoked glass coffee table. A very large soft grayish-blue rug lay beneath the seating and table.
Cianne glanced around the pristine room then turned to Whodai who stood just inside of the doorway, watching her. “Where will you be?” she asked
“I’m going back to the Canyon to take another look. See if there is anything we may have missed,” he said.
She sighed, “Cassius has been there a half dozen times. He said there’s nothing there.”
“I just want to be sure.” Whodai grimaced, then said, “There are wild animals in that area. They could have taken something.”
Cianne looked to her hands. Her once long natural nails were gone. She bit them down, some even to the skin.
“If I’ve upset you, please forgive me,” Whodai said politely.
“No,” she said as she shook her head. Her hair fell over her shoulder with the movement.
Whodai’s eyes appeared to gloss over as he moved forward a step, but he didn’t take another. Instead, he shut his eyes tight for half a second then shook his head.
“Whodai, are you alright?” She reached out but held off touching his shoulder.
He nodded.
Cianne tilted her head as she rubbed her hands together. “You haven’t upset me. It’s just that you are going far beyond what Cassius asked of you. I want you to know that I appreciate it.”
Whodai and Jacobi were the only ones still searching for Tristan. Jacobi was on Guard duty most days so he could only search in his free time but Whodai followed no set schedule. Both of their efforts were purely voluntary. Cassius was vocal in his opinion that their efforts were useless, bluntly stating that “finding the responsible party is more realistic than looking for a body.”
“Soahn, there is nothing—,” Whodai said.
“Please...call me Cianne,” she interrupted.
Whodai stared at her for a long moment then smiled. “I will do my best to remember.” He lowered his head in a bow.
Cianne almost smiled as she watched Whodai exit the room, then she remembered why she stood in the room. The Tomb was programmed to not open unless the outer door was closed. Once the door was shut, Cianne walked over to the mirror and gently placed her fingertips on a scanner located on the back of one of the mirrors. A red beam of light scanned over her eyes then there was a hiss whispered through the room as if air was being released. The mirrors parted to reveal a lit staircase to the underground room.
