Blood Destiny (24 page)

Tristan had hired a private helicopter pilot to come in the morning and airlift them out of the gorge, explaining that it would be the safest way to get out of Dark Moon Vale before the money, power, or influence of the Silivasi family could cause them problems. But from the looks of the worsening storm, any helicopter transport might have to be postponed.

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Blood Destiny

by Tessa Dawn

Jocelyn sipped the warm tea, laced with honey and lemon, and tried to gather her thoughts. Her head was still spinning from the events of the evening, her stomach tied in knots as the realization of what she had done set in more and more....

She had left Nathaniel.

And she had left him to die.

To suffer the same horrific fate as the handsome young man in the painting: his brother, Shelby. While she knew it wasn't her responsibility to take care of a man she had never met—and absolutely no one had the right to snatch a person from their life and force them into a personal relationship—a part of her heart was breaking from the choice she had made.

And the look on Nathaniel's face.

The memory of those dark, haunted eyes staring at her with such...hurt...in them chilled her to the bone; she had walked away without mercy, leaving him to his fate, when he believed there was something special—if not divine—between them.

Jocelyn drew in a deep breath, taking the chilled mountain air into her lungs. The icy snowflakes swirled around her, stinging warm skin as the wind slapped aimlessly at her exposed cheeks and neck. She pulled her parka closer and turned just in time to see Tristan return with an armful of chopped wood.

"What are you still doing out here?" he asked, looking up at the sky. "It's freezing. You should go inside."

Jocelyn nodded and followed him into the tiny three-room cabin, stopping in front of the fireplace to warm herself while Tristan placed several new logs on the fire. "Tristan," she 225

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said, rubbing her hands together, "I've been thinking about our partnership...all these years working together. Were you ever there for the job? For me? Or was it always about finding...vampires?"

Tristan rearranged the newly placed logs using the long iron poker and leaned his heavily muscled frame against the mantel, resting the bulk of his weight on one arm. "Jocelyn, I don't know what you want me to say. The truth of the matter is, I'm a vampire hunter. I always have been. Being your partner back in San Diego was just a front to help me find this valley."

Jocelyn already knew what his answer would be, but now that he had spoken the words out loud, the betrayal stung all over again. She had trusted Tristan with a lot of her secrets over the years. With her life. She had relied on him to always have her back, and in the process, they had formed a bond that no longer seemed real. She shook her head trying to force the reality of what he was telling her to sink in.

"All these years, Tristan...I trusted you."

Tristan sighed. "I'm sorry, Jocelyn."

"Yeah...I guess." Her voice was regretful. "Tell me something else, would you? Did our partnership mean anything to you? Our friendship? Or was it all just part of the plan?"

Tristan ran his large hands through his wild mane of hair, trying to push it away from his face. "Of course our partnership meant something to me, Jocelyn. Lying to you was the hardest part of this whole thing. And you have to know that once I realized Nathaniel had you...." He looked at 226

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her then, his eyes full of possession—a territorial hint of...something...she had never seen in him before. Something that made her uneasy. "All I could think of was getting to you. Rescuing you. Taking you as far away from that monster as I could. I had to see you safe before I could even consider hunting him."

Jocelyn took a step back as his words began to register.

Tristan seemed to sense her uneasiness. "Are we really so different, Joss? I mean, think about it: How many friendships have you made with informants? How many times have you gone undercover or built a relationship with someone you were...cozying up to...in order to get to a suspect? I'm a hunter. You're a law enforcement agent. We do what we have to do."

Jocelyn shook her head. "Is that what it was, Tristan?

Cozying up? It's not the same and you know it! We were partners."

All at once, Tristan stepped forward and cupped her face in his huge hands. He brushed the bones of her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs as he leaned in to kiss her: The kiss was soft, tender, and totally unexpected. "And we still can be." His voice was a low, husky whisper.

Jocelyn gasped, her eyes growing wide. "Tristan! What are you doing?"

He smiled. "Something I've wanted to do since the day I met you." There was no apology in his voice.

Jocelyn rubbed her temples, trying to focus on the situation at hand. Dealing with this new...romantic revelation...would have to come later. As it was, she was 227

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already overwhelmed. All I could think of was getting to you.

Rescuing you. Taking you as far away from that monster as I could...before I could even consider hunting him. She replayed Tristan's words in her head: Hunting him.

Hunting Nathaniel!

Her stomach lurched and her heart skipped a beat. "Wait a minute! When you say you needed to rescue me before hunting Nathaniel, what exactly do you mean by hunting? Are you talking about trying to...kill him?"

Tristan sighed and looked her directly in the eyes, his deep golden irises growing dark with intent. "Nathaniel is a vampire, Jocelyn—far more dangerous than you realize. Yes, of course. And not trying to kill him. Killing him."

Jocelyn staggered back as if he had physically struck her, and fear began to take hold where only confusion had stood before...as the gravity of what Tristan was really doing in the valley finally sunk in. This man she believed to be her partner had come to Dark Moon Vale for one purpose—and one purpose only—to take a strong, intelligent creature with hauntingly beautiful eyes, fearsome power, and unexpected gentleness...and kill him. The flesh on her inner wrist began to burn even as her heart began to ache.

"You can't be serious, Tristan. He may be a vampire, but he isn't evil. You can't just kill him."

Tristan looked at her then with a hint of derision in his eyes. There was something dark—barely discernable—just below the surface: jealousy, maybe? Anger or contempt? The look of a boss who had been challenged by a subordinate? It 228

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wasn't clear exactly what he was feeling, but his determination to finish his job—to kill Nathaniel—was unwavering.

"He is evil, Jocelyn, and tomorrow morning, after I fly you out of here, I am going to do what I came here to do." He caught at her wrist with his hand, held her in a vise-like grip, and stared directly into her eyes with absolute authority. "And then I will return to you, and we will have the...partnership...we were always meant to have."

Jocelyn caught her breath and let out a shrill, high-pitched sound. She yanked at her wrist, but it didn't budge. "Tristan, let me go!" She made it an order...when it was really a plea.

Tristan slowly released her wrist, but he continued to hold her in a steady, unyielding gaze. "Don't look at me like that, Jocelyn. Your sympathy for this vampire is beginning to wear thin. Did you know he killed seven inmates in a California prison the other night?"

Jocelyn frowned and shook her head. "Impossible...when?"

"Sunday. Around four o'clock in the morning."

Jocelyn looked down at the blazing fire, watching as the glowing orange flames sent sizzling sparks across the hearth, shimmering upward as they disappeared into the chimney.

Her own life...and everything she had known to be true up until that moment...was just like the fire—vanishing before her eyes. Melting. Disintegrating. Simply going up in flames as reality continued to do a tailspin in her mind.

She closed her eyes as she tried to remember: Saturday night...and four a.m. Sunday. What had happened that night?

Ah, yes...Nathaniel had discovered her memories of Valentine 229

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and Dalia, and he had become so enraged that Marquis had needed to calm him. In fact, Marquis had ordered him to go out and...feed.

Tears welled up in her eyes, burning her retinas, even as she tried to deny the conclusion. It was true then. Nathaniel could have easily killed a dozen people that night with his devastating rage. And he would not have shown any mercy to a gang of criminals—especially if they had committed crimes against women—innocent victims like Dalia. Yet she still couldn't accept Tristan's verdict; she still couldn't believe he was evil.

Jocelyn had seen the face of evil...and that wasn't it.

"Tristan," she said cautiously, trying to appeal to his better nature, "I'm asking you...as your partner—" The words caught in her throat because she knew it wasn't true anymore. Still, maybe their past would appeal to him on some elemental level. "As your friend...don't do this...don't go after Nathaniel. Come with me when I go tomorrow and leave Nathaniel and his family alone."

Tristan stepped forward, his body so close to hers that he towered over her. His once familiar eyes glowed a pale yellow, and the lines of his face hardened with disapproval. "I would've expected more from you, Jocelyn. After all these years, chasing and taking down bad guys, I would've thought you would despise a killer...of any species. And now, you offer to trade your company for his safety?"

Jocelyn shook her head, indignant. "What do you mean, trade my company?"

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He bent his head and nuzzled his mouth against her ear, his long, wild hair spilling forward. "You only ask me to leave with you because you're afraid for Nathaniel. If I had any thought to spare his life, you can believe it's gone now. Know this: I will take his head and remove his heart before I return him to the world of the dead."

He slowly traced the front of her body with the pad of his index finger, drawing a straight line from her chin to her navel...stopping just short of the waistline of her skirt. "And I will have you, his celestial bride, for myself." He nipped at her throat like an animal and purred against her jaw.

Jocelyn jolted and stumbled back, both stunned and confused; she was completely disoriented from the continuously changing events. As her heart froze in her chest, she began to think of ways to escape—ways to get away from a man she had thought to be one of her closest friends for the past three years. She put her hands to his chest and gently shoved him back, trying to push him away. She needed distance, but she didn't want to set him off. What in the world was going on with this man? Oh...no, she thought, is Tristan even a man?

After all, what kind of a man knew about and hunted vampires? And why did his eyes darken when his mood changed? Where had that throaty growl come from? And why in the world did he care about her celestial blood?

All at once a knock came at the cabin door.

Tristan stepped back, unfastened the front of his long, wool coat—opening it just enough to show her the heel of his 231

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gun—and pointed to the old brown sofa beside the fireplace in a gesture that told her to sit down.

Once she was seated, he gave her a harsh look of caution, and then he held his finger to his lips as he approached the front door.

The knock came again. "Tristan, let me in! I just locked up the shed. It's cold as hell out here!" The voice belonged to Willie Jackson, Jocelyn's long-time informant.

"That's Willie!" Jocelyn exclaimed. "What is he doing here?

How the heck did he find this cabin?"

When Tristan turned around to regard her, she saw the answer in his carefree shrug and tentative smile.

"Another hunter?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"The two of you work together?"

Tristan didn't respond. He didn't have to.

Jocelyn shook her head in disbelief. She didn't know what emotion she felt the strongest—betrayal, fear for herself, or fear for Nathaniel. How in the world was she going to get out of this? Her head was beginning to spin.

"What's in the shed?" she asked.

Tristan frowned. "The truth?"

"I see no reason for you to lie to me now." Her voice betrayed her hurt.

"An arsenal," he quipped. "And a dangerous one at that: you stay away from that shed, Joss."

"Jocelyn."

"What?" He sounded annoyed.

"My name: it's Jocelyn."

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Jocelyn sat further back on the sofa, suddenly feeling even more trapped than before—all at once realizing she had been far safer with Nathaniel. What was it he had told her? This man is not who you think he is....

Nathaniel knew!

He knew Tristan was a hunter....

And if that was the case, then he would come after her...she was sure of it. After all, his life depended on it—and maybe hers did too, now.

Tristan studied her intently, as if he were trying to read her mind, and then he frowned, not bothering to address her last comment. He opened the door and stood back as Willie rushed in out of the cold. A thick blanket of white powder blew in after him, creating a miniature whirlwind of snow in the doorway before Tristan shut the heavy wooden door behind him.

Willie shivered. He was headed toward the fire when he noticed Jocelyn on the sofa and smiled. "Hey, cop." There was a tell-tale note of satisfaction in his voice.

Jocelyn smirked.

Willie looked at Tristan, over at Jocelyn, and then back at Tristan again. He removed the hood of his jacket from his shiny, rapidly balding head and smoothed a calloused hand over his unkempt goatee. "Oh c'mon now. Don't be pissed, Levi. You thought you were playin' me and you got played. All the same game, though, right?"