Purpose (20 page)

“What—the—hell—were—you—
thinking
?”
Owen fumed as soon as he walked in the door that evening.

I backed away from him, until my back pressed
against the counter. “I’m sorry.”

“
Sorry
? Alexis, do you have any idea
how I felt when I came back and you were
gone
? Do you know
what Rina and the council would have done to me if…if…” He couldn’t
finish. “And Sophia…she would’ve
killed
me.”

“I’m
sorry
,” I repeated with deepest
sincerity. “I know I took advantage of you. And I understand if you
never trust me again. I thought I was doing what was best.”

“And
exactly
what did you think was
best?”

“Surrender to the Daemoni so they would leave
everyone else alone.” Both Owen and Tristan groaned. “They want
me
. Not Mom. Not Rina. And not Dorian. And I knew you’d
never just
let
me go.”

“Of course not! That was incredibly stupid.
And if Tristan hadn’t been there, you’d be in the Daemoni’s
hands—or
dead
—and he’d be here. How do you think all of us
would feel about
that
?”

I couldn’t answer, knowing how horrible the
consequences would have been for them. I just stared at the floor,
which swam through the tears I blinked back.

So he turned on Tristan. “And if
you
could have just let her know you were okay, she wouldn’t have gone
in the first place!”

“I know. I take full responsibility for it,”
Tristan replied gruffly. “But you shouldn’t have left her. What
were
you
thinking?”

Owen raised his eyebrows at Tristan’s
accusing tone and went on such a rampage, I never would have
thought him capable of it. He threw his hands in the air as he
advanced on Tristan.

“What was
I
thinking? I was thinking
she could stay put for ten minutes and keep herself safe! I was
thinking she’d been through
hell
the last seven-and-a-half
years and she actually wanted to celebrate something for the first
time since. I was thinking I saw a glimpse of the old Alexis who no
one has seen since that day we left her at the damn safe house
begging you not to go! I was thinking I didn’t want to disappoint
her, even with such a little thing, after all the big
disappointments she’s had to suffer!”

“Ah! Like me leaving her? Of not being able
to get back because I sat in my own
hell
?” Tristan leaned
forward, their faces less than a foot apart. His voice rose. “Say
it, Owen. Say it like it is. It’s my fault she suffered! Say what
you’re thinking!”

“That’s
not
what I’m thinking!” Owen
bellowed, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “It’s
my
fault!
I
didn’t bring you back to her.
I
didn’t keep you safe.
I
had to come back and tell her I
thought you were
dead
. And ever since, I’ve had to see her
misery, hear her screaming in her sleep from the other side of the
house, watch her fall apart at the seams and know it’s
my
fault. I’ve had to look at her and know she wished
I’d
been
the one who didn’t come back!”

I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief
and confusion.
How had he twisted it into this?

“Owen, stop it.” I tried to put emotion
behind the words so he would hear me and come to his senses, but my
voice sounded small over the lump in my throat. He ignored me,
still glaring at Tristan.

“You don’t know what it’s like to have her
look at you and feel like you’re the person who made her whole
world fall apart.”

“I do know what it’s like!” Tristan barked.
“I’ve watched it for the last week!”

Owen’s jaw dropped. “A
week
? You’ve
been back a
week
and made her go through that? Do you have
any idea just how bad this week has been for her?”

“No, I don’t fully know. But
you
have
no idea what it’s been like for me. To see
you
be the one
who can take care of her…to see
you
at the park with
my
wife, playing with
my
son, because I don’t know if
I’ll be overcome with the urge to
kill
them!” Tristan
pounded the counter, adding yet another crack to the granite. I
felt like he’d hit me, like I’d been punched in the gut with his
words.

“Stop it! Both of you!” I finally yelled.
“This is nonsense. I’m standing right here. Stop talking about me
like I’m not. And stop being so damn stupid!”

They both finally shut up and looked at me as
if they just remembered I was even in the room.

“Owen, you’re completely wrong. Yes, I was
pissed off. I was pissed off at everyone—at Tristan, at Mom, at
myself, at the Amadis, at the whole damn world! But I knew the
blame
was all on those bastard Daemoni who killed Stefan,
who took Tristan, who took my whole life away!” I swiped at the
tears and drew in a ragged breath. “But, really, I just want to be
over it. Tristan’s back. We’ll be with Dorian soon. Just let me be
happy! I’m
happy
now, okay?”

I stomped into the bedroom and threw myself
on the bed. After a few minutes, Tristan sat next to me and pulled
me into his arms as I continued to cry.

“You just said you were happy,” he said
quietly.

“I
am
happy, damn it!”

He chuckled. I did, too, through the
tears.

“So why are you crying?”

“Because I feel absolutely horrible for both
of you. I never meant for Owen to feel like I blamed him. And I had
no idea what you saw at the park and how that must have made you
feel.” The cold, hard feeling from last night started working its
way in again. “I
hate
them! I hate them for ruining our
lives. I hate them for doing this to us.”

“
Ma lykita
,” he murmured, “they
haven’t ruined our lives. Not as long as we don’t let them. We’ve
had to live through hell for a while, but we don’t have to let that
ruin everything. We have many years ahead of us still. Many more
than what they’ve taken.”

We sat in silence for a minute or two. Well,
he sat silently. I sniffled and pulled in noisy breaths, trying to
stop the tears.

“How do you do it?” I finally asked.

“Do what?”

“Keep living through horrific shit like this
and still be able to say that?”

“Ah.” He kissed the top of my head. “Because
it’s been proven to me time and again that it can and does get
better. After all, I have you. Again.”

I sighed heavily and caressed his cheek,
trying not to let the anger well up again as my fingertips slid
over the nasty scar. “I love you.”

“See? How can I hold onto anger when I get to
hear that from your lips?”

I wiped the tears off my face, inhaled deeply
and headed back to the kitchen.

Owen still stood where he had been, his head
bent over, looking at me through his lashes. He reminded me of
Dorian when he had to tell Mom and me he’d been in another
fight—guilty for disappointing us but not for the actual
action.

“Sorry, Alex—,” he started, but I held my
hand up to stop him.

“
I’m
sorry, Owen,” I said. He opened
his mouth to say something, but I went on, needing to relieve him
of his unnecessary guilt. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way.
I admit I sometimes wondered how you made it back and not Tristan.
But I didn’t blame you for any of it.
Of course
I wished
he’d come back and probably more than any of the others. But he’s
my husband, Owen. He was—is—my
life
. He’ll always be my
first concern. That’s just how it is. But that doesn’t mean I
wished you’d never come back. You’re like a brother to me. Stefan
was like a dad. I wished none of you ever left in the first place,
but you did and shit happened. It’s done now. Over with. Tristan’s
here. You’re here. I get two out of three. Let’s just put it behind
us, okay?”

Owen studied my face for a moment, looked at
Tristan and then back at me. He finally relaxed and slumped back
against the counter.

“Okay. It’s in the past.” He pretended to
pick up some imaginary object and throw it over his head, behind
him. Then he looked at Tristan. “We’re good?”

“We’re good, bro,” Tristan said. Owen showed
Tristan the latest male bonding handshake—the fist bump.

“So…what’s up, little sis from a different
miss?” Owen asked me, back to his normal self.

“A real celebration dinner?” I offered. “We
have these beautiful steaks and all….”

He smiled. “I’ll accept that.”

I blew out a sigh of relief and got to work.
Owen and Tristan stayed in the kitchen with me, Tristan helping me
cook and Owen updating us on the consequences of my escapade last
night.

“The Daemoni are really going ballistic now
that the two of you are back together. I guess that blonde vampire
chick went on a rampage. Apparently, your blood, Alexis, is like a
super-potent energy drink for vampires. It made her more powerful
than usual and we had to do some damage control.”

I didn’t really want to know what he meant
and I appreciated that he didn’t explain.

“Do they know we’re here?” Tristan asked.

“No, they still don’t know about this house.
But as soon as they can get to one or both of you, they will. And
they know once they’ve got one of you, they’ve got the other now.
Rina wants us to go to your house in Atlanta. It’s probably safer
there than here.”

Tristan stopped slicing onions—he’d always
taken that job because they didn’t make him cry like they did to me
and he’d naturally resumed it, just like old times—and stared at
the counter for a few seconds. Apparently, he was exploring and
weighing the options. Then he nodded.

“That’ll work perfectly with the plan,” he
said, expertly moving the knife again.

“The plan Rina wants you to work on?” I
asked. I’d passed on the message earlier, but I’d been too
distracted to ask him what plan.

“Yeah,” he answered distractedly, focused on
whatever he had brewing in his mind. “There will be a fire. We’ll
have to make sure it’s complete, so when they find no bodies, they
still could think they were burnt to ashes. Maybe an
explosion.”

I stopped in my tracks, holding the plate of
steaks in front of me. “
What?
You’re going to blow up my
house
?”

“After the
Ang’dora
, A.K. Emerson can
no longer exist,” he said simply, as if this fact were obvious. He
took the steaks from me and headed outside to the grill. I just
stared after him.

It should have been obvious, that I could no
longer be the author. Not with the changes I would go through. But
I really hadn’t thought about everything that far. It bothered me
how he said it so easily. Of course, he probably wouldn’t ever
understand how much I had needed to be A.K. Emerson, how important
that part of me was. He hadn’t been around for any of her
existence.

I shook off the troubled feeling. Logic told
me we would have to kill her—fake my death. Tristan would know the
best solution because that was one of his abilities. And I’d been
ready to give her up last night. With the last book complete, I
could let go. Apparently, I would
have
to let go. Besides, I
enjoyed the writing—not actually being a famous author.

“With no bodies, we leave the possibility
open of a disappearance, just in case anyone recognizes you in the
future,” Tristan said when he came back into the kitchen.
“However…we
will
have her reunited with the father of her
son and married first.”

I felt my face light up and opened my mouth
but Owen shook his head before I could say anything.

“Too dangerous,” he said. “Just moving you
two to Atlanta will be bad enough.”

“Just some pictures and a slip to the media
right before we have to disappear,” Tristan said. He looked at me
and grinned. “We’ll make those assholes eat their words.”

I smiled back, but then sighed. “But she’ll
never get to be Mrs. Tristan Knight.”

“Why not?” Tristan asked.

“Because then we can’t use that name later,
right?”

He shrugged. “It’s just a name. You know it
doesn’t mean anything. I picked it as a kind of tongue-in-cheek
thing.”

Owen and I both looked at him expectantly,
neither of us getting it.

“Tristan, the knight who fell in love with
the one he could never have,” Tristan said.

“Tristan and Isolde?” I asked, stifling a
laugh. “That’s where you got your name?”

“Just the Knight part. I chose Tristan for a
reason, but the last names come and go.” He lifted one shoulder in
a half-shrug. “So if you want the author to be Mrs. Tristan Knight,
then we’ll do it. You will always be Alexis Ames, anyway. I can
even be Tristan Ames.”

I laughed. “I know that makes sense, since
you really are an Ames anyway, but it’s not happening. To me, you
are Tristan Knight and I’ve waited forever to be your Mrs. I’ll
keep Alexis Knight for myself. So you’ll need to be someone
different for the author.”

He wrapped his arms around me and whispered
in my ear, “Whatever you want, my love. To me, you’ll always be
ma lykita.
”

“So…pictures,” Owen said, obviously as a
reminder of his presence. “We’ll take care of those tomorrow,
before heading to Atlanta. I’ll need to get a camera.”

“We’ll need to go to Miami, too,” Tristan
said.

“Dude! Did you not hear me? Getting you two
to Atlanta is bad enough. That’s all.”

“Rina’s orders. Didn’t she tell you?”

Owen exhaled a frustrated sigh. “She just
said to make sure you got your affairs in order. I didn’t know it
meant a stop in Miami.”

“That’s where a lot of my affairs are,”
Tristan said. “It won’t take long. We’ll go tomorrow. You can take
pictures of the author and her beau while we’re there. Then we’ll
head to Atlanta the next morning.”