Ignite (Midnight Fire Series Book One) (21 page)

Kira pulled her hand from his, suddenly very
conscious of their age difference. She’s never done more than kiss
a boy, and she could only imagine what sort of creepy, vampire
things Tristan had done.

"Kira? What are you thinking?" He turned
around, resting his elbows on the tree branch and looking up at
her.

"Um…" Kira twiddled her thumbs, fighting the
urge to blush. "So, how many girls have you, you know…dated?" God,
she thought, why am I acting like a thirteen year old?

Tristan burst out laughing. "Of all the
things, that’s what you want to know?"

"Well, it’s a start. Why? Something to hide?"
She asked, lifting her eyebrows. Kira was becoming defensive and it
brought her out of her dazed schoolgirl mood.

"No. I don’t even know. No one serious, if
that’s what you’re asking. But, I’ve been around for a while, so
I’ve met some women along the way and, well…" He trailed off.

Kira hid her face in her hands, suddenly not
wanting to know. No one serious—that was good enough for her.

"New topic please," she spoke still not
meeting his eyes, "Can I see your fangs?" She dropped her hands,
feeling like a little kid with a new toy.

Tristan rolled his eyes at her, but closed
his mouth and opened it a second later after a strained expression
crossed his features. They were smaller than Kira had remembered
with Diana, not nearly as frightening as she had imagined. Pearly
white and seemingly delicate, but Kira knew they were lethal,
literally. They looked sharp, she thought and reached her finger
out to touch one, but Tristan moved away.

"Don’t. I don’t want to hurt you," he said,
letting his teeth recede back into his gums. Kira wasn’t sure if he
meant hurting her finger, or doing something a little worse, so she
left it at that.

"So, what did Diana mean about getting ‘her
Tristan’ back? Can she do that? Can she actually change you?" Kira
leaned back against the tree again. Diana’s threat had seemed real
and much more a promise than empty words.

"No. I should probably explain more about
Diana though." He sighed, resigned. "When Aldrich brought me back,
during the change, Diana was the one who cared for me. Afterwards,
she taught me how to eat and survive and control the urges. She
always believed I loved life with Aldrich and that I would someday
love her. But years passed and she could see my discontent. When
she helped me escape by leading Aldrich the other direction, away
from the Punishers and from me, I think she always expected for me
to find her and return to her. When I finally did, I was a
different man. She was disgusted that I ate from bags and refused
live humans. She still is. I think she believes if I fall off the
bandwagon one time, and drink from a human one time, I won’t be
able to stop. That I’ll become the monster Aldrich made me into
again." He looked up at Kira, his expression hard and full of
conviction. "I never will, Kira. That was never who I am, and I
won’t go back, no matter what Diana tries to do."

"I’m confused though," Kira thought back to
the auditorium, when she discovered what Tristan and the others
were. He was stronger than all of them. If she had never gotten hit
by the brick—never started bleeding and distracted him—Tristan
would have beaten them all. He had thrown them around like rag
dolls and not a single punch had touched him. "In the gym, you
laughed when they threatened you. They were all afraid to challenge
you. Why? Diana’s older, shouldn’t she be more powerful?"

He shook his head. "The age thing is just a
myth. Your human blood determines power and strength. If you were
strong as a human, your strength will be amplified, same with
speed. Even abilities like being able to read people’s facial
expressions can turn into actual mind reading when you’re changed
into vampire. I think that’s why Aldrich turned me. He must have
known I’d be as strong as I am. But, age doesn’t affect it at all.
I could be stronger than a thousand year old vampire, but he’s had
more time to make friends and garner power, so he’s more
untouchable."

"What do you mean?"

"Vampires have their own set of rules. Almost
every country has some sort of governing council with heads, sort
of like senators, in each of the major cities. If I wanted to
travel to, I don’t know, Boston, I would need to ask permission
first. There are a lot more rules than you would think."

"But all the rules I would think of seem to
be wrong." Kira said, remembering Tristan in the church and lying
in the sun.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we’re outside during the daylight and
you don’t seem to be bursting into flame. How did all those rumors
get started?"

"It was…" He thought of the right word,
"beneficial for vampires to start those rumors. That way, anytime I
wore a silver cross or went surfing, no one would even consider the
possibility of the supernatural. Just a precaution."

"So, I’m the only way you can die?" Tristan
shrugged, and Kira looked down at the dim burn marks on her hands
from the night before. It hadn’t even hurt that time. The fire had
come completely naturally. "Can I ever become a vampire?"

"No," Tristan said quietly. "A conduit can
only be killed by a vampire. Their blood rejects the turning." Kira
assumed as much even though Luke had never bothered to tell her
that. She was relieved in a way, knowing that she could never
become a vampire. She would have never wanted that, a life of
drinking blood, even if it meant a life with Tristan.

"Can you ever skip out on the whole
immortality thing?" Tristan shook his head silently.

They really were doomed, Kira thought. She
would grow old and die, probably killing vampires along the way. He
would be young and strong forever, and there was no way around
that.

"Is all of this even worth it?" Kira asked,
staring out at the water. The tide had risen and the waves were
choppier now, breaking into white heads along the surface and
swallowing the marshes at the riverbank. "I mean, I wouldn’t mind
the whole cougar aspect, having a boyfriend who looks seventeen
when I’m at the ripe old age of sixty, but who are we kidding?"

"We have to try," Tristan urged. "Maybe you
can live with never knowing, but I can’t spend eternity wondering
what could have been. And, if we end up falling in love, truly and
deeply, we can deal with it when the time comes. I wouldn’t mind
having a sugar-momma." He winked at her, and Kira felt her mood
lighten a little bit.

"I’ll marry a rich man and you can be the hot
pool boy I have a scandalous affair with."

"Or, I can make a ton of money and pay for
all the plastic surgery to keep you looking young. Pumped up lips
and little botox for the wrinkles—I don’t like it when faces
actually move you know."

"Can’t wait." Kira said and pretended to
growl like a cougar. He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her
from the tree branch and into his arms. They slipped from the shade
of the overhanging tree, into the heat of the sun, and it refreshed
Kira, giving her energy.

"What does the sun feel like to you?" Kira
asked, loving the serenity she always felt when outdoors.

"Sort of like an electric current prickling
my skin. It stings, but I don’t mind."

"And what does my sunlight feel like to
you?"

"I imagine it’s comparable to being burned at
the stake. Every part of my body boils under the heat."

"I’m sorry," Kira said and Tristan brushed
the lock of hair that had fallen over her face back behind her
ear.

"I don’t blame you. You were only protecting
yourself. Besides, as soon as you stop, the pain does too, in an
instant."

"Still…"

"Nope. No feeling sorry for the vampire.
Besides, it’s my turn to ask you a question." She looked up at him,
waiting. "Are you really a mix between Protector and Punisher? I
thought so, but without tasting more of you, I can’t be sure."
Gross, Kira thought, tasting me?

"There will be no blood exchanges today, so
I’ll just tell you that I am and you’ll have to trust me." He
smiled, showing her that he had popped his teeth out again,
jokingly.

"You should dye your hair. It’s too obvious.
If word gets out that you exist, every vampire around the world
will be coming after you." Kira ran a hand through her curls. She
had never even thought about her hair as dangerous, as giving her
away. Her eyes maybe, but how deadly could a strawberry blonde mess
really be?

"And then all hell breaks loose, right?"

"Let’s hope we never have to figure that
out." Kira silently agreed. All she needed was to let go for a
second, lower her guard and then bam. She remembered her parents,
how vampires had jumped them, coming out of the bushes with no
warning sign. If a single vampire ever caught her, he could keep
her around, drinking her almost dead for immunity, then letting her
blood replenish for more supplies. Kira saw Tristan fight Diana,
John and Jerome. Without their light, conduits were no match for
vampires. It is our only weapon, Kira thought. Conduits needed to
exist, but Kira could mean their end.

"You know, you seem different to me," Kira
said, liking the cool embrace of his arms around her, comforting
despite the cold. "Happier, somehow. Like the brooding, sad Tristan
has been mostly replaced by the mischievous one."

"I am." She felt his smile against her
forehead. "You don’t even know what a relief it is to talk to
someone about all of this. I’ve been holding it in for one hundred
years, and finally, I can openly and honestly talk about how I
feel. I can be myself."

"I understand," Kira said, as she rested her
head on his chest, noticing the steady beat of his heart. "I can’t
talk to Luke about how I feel about all of this. He would never
understand why I’m even talking to you. He doesn’t know what it
feels like to be trapped. I never asked for these powers. I never
asked to be a conduit, and the potential end of the world, as Luke
described it, if some vampire becomes immune through me. I never
wanted any of it. But, he’s always lived this life. He always
wanted it and he loves his job, I can tell. He told me to keep the
healing thing to myself, you know? He thinks the conduit council
won’t react kindly. It makes me question what they’re like, whether
I even want to be apart of it."

"I was wondering about that," Tristan said,
running his finger along the spot on Kira’s face where Diana had
cut her. "There was no scratch or scar the next time I saw you. I
thought Luke might have done something. I actually don’t know very
much about conduits."

"I think I’m the only one who can heal
things. I don’t know how I do it, it’s just sort of an instinct."
They stood in silence, Kira waiting for Tristan’s inevitable
question.

"So, what are you going to tell him?" Tristan
asked, and Kira moved her head to look up at him, reading the
vulnerability in his features. She knew what he meant, what would
she tell him about them, about this conversation and the intimacy
they now shared. Surely, Kira would tell him about finding Jerome
and John in the woods, about the memory she recalled and how she
could now control herself so much more. But, what about the dance
her and Tristan shared by the lake, or the private moments they
shared now, talking about the darkest parts of themselves. She
couldn’t hide from Luke forever, but she wasn’t sure if she could
come clean and risk losing him.

"I don’t know. I’m so sorry. I just…I don’t
know how he’ll react. And I need him, he’s my only connection to
the conduits, the only person I can learn from."

"It’s okay," Tristan said, but Kira saw the
quick flash of hurt in his eyes, eyes so icy blue she had at first
wondered if there even was emotion in there. Now she saw them
differently, not icy but deep, like a pond on a calm day when the
surface seems hard at first, but something as small as a pebble can
drop smoothly in, destroying the semblance of steel. Kira had
dropped in, broken the surface of his soul, and she didn’t know
when she would reach the bottom.

Tristan cupped her cheek with his hand,
staring into her eyes as well. Kira wondered what he saw there.
Were her eyes a raging fire that had suddenly calmed to a
flickering flame? Her heart seemed to stop as he kept looking,
reading her fears and desires, her vulnerability, and the parts of
her she tried to keep hidden from everyone else. Then, almost as if
in slow motion, he leaned his face down to hers, letting his lips
gently grace Kira’s, and the moment of calm was gone. Her heart
pounded and she stood on her tippy-toes, eagerly returning his
kisses.

When Kira awoke on Monday morning, she
dreaded going to school. She hadn’t seen Tristan since he had
dropped her off at home on Saturday, and she ignored Luke’s calls
all weekend, completely unsure of what to tell him. When she
finally got out of bed, it took her ten minutes to brush her teeth
and wash her face—she stared at her hollow eyes in the mirror the
entire time. She thought of Tristan and felt a blush rise, then
quickly thought of Luke and hated herself. Eventually, her mother
pushed Kira into the car and actually drove her to school.

Kira’s mother left her in the full parking
lot, telling her to hurry up because Kira was obviously late. Kira
listened and ran to the safety of her class, one she shared with
neither of the boys. She kept her eyes glued to the scratched
hallway floor when sprinting from room to room, not daring to even
chance making eye contact with either boy, and she jumped at the
sound of her name a few times, only to realize she had been
dreaming it.

But then, the lunch bell rang.

It was time. Unless she decided to eat in the
bathroom stall, Kira would have to face Luke and Tristan. She
meandered through the halls, waiting for them to thin and for the
cafeteria to crowd, hoping her entrance would go unnoticed.
Finally, she couldn’t stall anymore, and she walked through the
double doors into the chaos of lunch hour. Her eyes immediately
honed in on the table outside where one lone figure sat:
Tristan.