Promise (13 page)

"I love you, too, Tristan."

He exhaled loudly. "Good. Now, can I come in
before you bleed to death?"

I wiped away my tears, reached up and
unlocked the door, cracking it open. He sat on the floor right in
front of the door. "Close your eyes, please."

"
What?
What is wrong with you?" He
obediently closed his eyes, though. I opened the door, crawled into
his lap and kissed him, hoping and praying it wasn't the last one
ever.

"I needed that first," I whispered. I took a
deep breath as he opened his eyes. "I hope you really love
me…because things are about to get weird."

"What's going on?" he asked, his beautiful
hazel eyes filled with concern.

I reluctantly held my arms straight out in
front of him. He studied them, running his fingers over the last of
the pink marks. I watched his face with trepidation and braced
myself for the worst.

"They're perfect," he said matter-of-factly.
He tilted my head, gently separating my hair to examine the head
wound. "Nothing. It's gone. So what's wrong?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicious at his
reaction or, rather, non-reaction. "You don't see anything
wrong?"

He smiled slightly. "No. They're all healed.
I
think
that's a good thing."

I held my breath, watching him and
waiting…and waiting…. And still no reaction.
I know he's not
stupid….
He'd seen the blood on my hand when I touched my head
at the store. He knew there had been some kind of wound there not
ten minutes ago. And now
nothing
. He said so himself.

"Ah, must be your leg…," he said, his hand
moving toward my thigh. I instinctively shifted away, tumbling off
his lap, onto the bathroom floor. "Lexi, I won't hurt you."

"That's not the problem!" I said sharply.

"Then what is?" Both concern and bemusement
filled his face.

"Tristan…you saw how much my head was
bleeding."

He shrugged. "Head wounds bleed a lot. It
must not have been bad and it's gone now."

"Exactly! It's gone. So are the cuts on my
arms. Don't you find that…I don't know…a little
weird
?"

"Not at all. Should I?"

"Uh, yeah, you should! It's not normal! I'm a
freak!"

He laughed and I glared at him.
Here it
comes.
He abruptly stopped and put his arms around me. "What
ever gave you the idea I thought you were
normal
?"

"Are you mocking me?" I pulled away and
stared into his eyes. The gold sparkled beautifully. He wasn't
freaked out. He wasn't being mean. He wasn't counting the seconds
to get out of here and never return. He was just concerned. And his
eyes were filled with…love.

"Alexis, you are really making a big deal out
of nothing. I don't care that you heal fast. Remember what I told
you? I can handle anything. You could grow a second head and I
would love it."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Okay, a second head may be a little weird,"
he admitted. "But healing yourself, well, that's just not a deal
breaker for me. Okay?"

I stared at him, not able to think of a
single thing to say.
He's not running. He's not laughing.
What's
wrong
with him?

"Now, please let me look."

He turned me so he could better see the
injury and pulled my hand with the now red, wadded t-shirt away. I
was too dumbfounded to fight him off anymore. Besides, I knew this
one was
not
healing so fast…if at all. It actually scared me
now. The pain continued to shoot up to my hip and down to my ankle
and it still hadn't stopped bleeding. Mom and I didn't know the
extent of my body's ability to heal and this was the worst injury
I'd ever had. It could be my body's first real test. If it didn't
heal on its own, Mom had a professional grade first-aid kit with
needle and thread. But Mom wasn't here….

"Alexis, have you taken a good look at me
since that car came through the window?" Tristan asked as he
studied the injury.

Huh? Is he trying to distract me?
That
would be a good way to do it. I was taking a good look at him right
now, actually—he still had no shirt on. His body was perfect. He
glanced up at me when I didn't answer and his face was perfect, as
usual, too.

"Of course. You're beautiful, as always," I
mumbled.

He rolled his eyes. "I mean, no cuts, no
blood."

I realized what he meant and thought back
over the last ten or fifteen minutes, since the accident.
Yeah…no cuts or blood on him
. And he had shielded Mom and
me. He should have been the worst off.

"How come you're not hurt?" I gasped as he
poked at the raw flesh. "Ouch!"

"Sorry. This is pretty serious."

"And you know because…?" I asked, momentarily
forgetting my first question.

"Because I have medical training. The glass
cut through rather deeply. There's so much blood still." He grabbed
the towel I'd been using and soaked it under the tub's faucet. "I
can't even see if it's healing on its own."

He dabbed at the wound and I winced.

"So how come
you're
not hurt?" I asked
again through clenched teeth, now trying to distract myself.
"That's hardly fair.
Ow!
"

He'd gone in deeper.

"Sorry. Here." He put my hand on his leg.
"Squeeze as hard as you need to, if it helps."

I squeezed. Hard.

"I heal, too," he said, "and much faster than
you."

Chapter 9

"
What?
"

Tristan definitely had me distracted now.

"Any surface cuts from the flying glass
would've healed before they even bled," he said. "It'd take a shard
like what did this to even pierce my skin. Or a dart…." He glanced
at me with a slight smile, then went back to work.

I ignored the dart comment as my breaths
became shallow. I didn't know if it was from the pain or a reaction
to what he said. Or perhaps I was going into complete shock,
overwhelmed with everything happening on this insane night.

"You…
heal?
" I gasped. The towel jabbed
deep, hitting a raw nerve and making me jump. "Holy crap,
ouch
!"

"This isn't working," he said with a sigh. He
glanced down at my hand on his leg. My fingernails dug into his
thigh.

"Sorry," I whispered, loosening my grip.

"You're not hurting
me
, but
you
are hurting and I don't like that." I could see my pain reflected
in his eyes. He lay the wet towel over the wound, apparently giving
up. "Yes, I heal, among other things. And you,
ma lykita
,
are not. At least, not quickly enough."

I sighed heavily. "Call Sophia. She can sew
it…I think."

He shook his head. "There's no way she's done
already. The police can't know you were there and hurt or they'll
make you go to the hospital. And you can't do that, right?"

I sighed again. "Right. So what do we
do?"

He stared at my leg for a long moment,
seeming to think about our options. Then he placed one of his knees
on each side of my legs and leaned over, placing a hand on the
floor on each side of me so he knelt on all fours, his face very
close to mine.

"You really love me?" he asked with a
stunning smile.

I could smell his delicious breath when he
spoke. He gazed intensely into my eyes. My mind started to fog.

"I…think so," I whispered.

"You
think
?" He rocked back onto his
heels and stared at me.

"Well…you just…you can…you
heal
," I
stammered.

"So…that
is
a deal breaker for
you?"

Is it?
I couldn't think straight. My
thigh throbbed even harder now after he'd been poking around in it.
And here he was, all perfect and beautiful and half-naked,
straddled over me with that breathtaking smile, his delicious scent
enveloping me. I tried to focus.
How could I mind him being able
to heal?
But, I knew, that wasn't the real issue. The real
issue was our whole relationship was built on secrets and lies…more
than I ever realized.

"Not that you can heal," I finally said. "But
you didn't
tell
me."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You've been holding back, too," he pointed
out. "We've both known that about each other."

"I know," I admitted. "It's just, well, it
seems you've known all my secrets. At least the two biggest ones.
You're not surprised at all by my ability to heal. And I know you
know Sophia is really my mom."

There. That's out now.
He narrowed his
eyes for a second, then nodded. "You're right. But a secret is a
secret. A lie is a lie.
You
didn't tell
me
either."

I lay back on the floor with a groan and
stared at the ceiling, tears stinging my eyes again.
He's right.
Now what?
His face came into my vision as he leaned over me
again. He smiled and the gold sparkled in his eyes.

"I don't care, though," he whispered. "I love
you. I've known Sophia for a long time and I know these things
about you and I don't care. Even the secrets and the lies. I know
it comes with who we are."

I looked into his eyes and felt my brows knit
together.

"I don't even know who we are, though," I
admitted. "I don't know who I am and I really don't know who you
are. I know I have these stupid, freaky things about me and I'm
glad you don't care. But you apparently have weird things, too. I
love the person I've known for the last several months, but…" My
voice trailed off.

"But you want to know the rest of me," he
finished.

"
Yes
. I want to stop the lies and the
secrets. I want a
real
relationship with you, Tristan. But I
need to
know
."

His eyes darkened. "You'll change your
mind."

I shook my head, rocking it on the tile
floor. "I'm not changing my mind. I need to know. For
us
."

"I meant about loving me," he muttered, his
eyes dropping so I couldn't see them.

Is it really that bad?
I couldn't
imagine it being too horrible—he was just too
good
. Good
like Mom good. And I knew he wasn't just good
to
me, but
good
for
me. Whatever secrets he kept, I thought I could get
over them. And regardless, our relationship just couldn't go on any
longer like it had been.

"Just tell me," I whispered. "Tell me who you
are. Tell me
everything
."

He raised his eyes and held mine so I knew he
was serious, then simply said, "Okay."

"
Okay?
For real?"

"Yes. Okay. You deserve to know…and I'll deal
with whatever happens." He smiled, but it was sad. "But…"

"Of course there's a 'but'," I moaned.

"
But
," he continued, "I can't do it
alone. You have to get Sophia to agree, too."

"
Why?
What does
she
have to do
with it?"

"Well…to understand me, you need to know more
about yourself. And only she can tell you that."

I groaned with frustration. Of course, it had
to be the ultimatum I knew would not be met.

"Trust me, she'll do it," he said.

"I doubt it," I muttered.

"She knows it's time. She'll do it." He
sounded more confident than he should. I wondered how he could
know, but he distracted me with his intense gaze again. "Right now,
though, I really need to know if you love me."

As I looked into his eyes, I knew what I
felt, at least for now. And I didn't know if anything could change
my mind.

"Yes, Tristan, I love you."

He leaned down and kissed me. "Good. Because
I'm going to make you better…but now things are going to get
really
weird."

Tristan removed the towel from my thigh and I
propped myself on my elbows to watch. He lowered his head and
placed his mouth over the wound.

The pain immediately subsided, replaced by
those strange but pleasurable jolts shooting up and down my leg.
His hands gently held my upper thigh and calf, spreading electric
tingles along my skin, as his mouth moved around the edges of the
gash like passionate kisses. It was the most sensual thing we'd
done so far—this was so unlike him. He looked up at me, sparks in
his eyes.

"There's so much blood," he groaned
quietly.

He lowered his mouth again and I felt a
stimulating, tugging sensation as he sucked. A distant voice way
back in a far corner of my mind tried to tell me something, but I
ignored it. I
wanted
his mouth on me, doing whatever he was
doing because it felt so
good
. Warmth spread through my
lower body, his hands caressing my leg. I'd never had an orgasm
before, so I didn't know what it felt like. But I thought this
might be close.

"Tristan!" Mom gasped, suddenly behind him in
the hallway, yanking me out of the oblivion.

"Oh! What the hell are you doing?" I
shrieked, lurching my whole body away from him.

I stared at him, my eyes bugged as I realized
exactly
what he'd been doing. My stomach tilted. He stared
back at me, an unreadable expression on his face, the sparks in his
eyes dimming to just gold flecks.

"Tristan, what
were
you doing?" Mom
asked.

"He was sucking my blood like a freakin'
vampire
!" I answered for him.

Tristan actually laughed.
Laughed
.

"I thought you liked vampires," he said.

"Not for real! Is that what you thought? That
I'd
like
it?! You're a bigger freak than I am!"

He shook his head as he rocked back on his
heels at my feet, a smile still on his face.

"I didn't purposely suck your blood. It was
just…in the way." The smile disappeared as he turned to look at
Mom. "She's not healing, Sophia. At least not fast enough. I was
trying to help."