Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan (7 page)

Tristan glanced out the window. “This is our
stop,” he said.

Isabel waited for a couple people to pass,
then stood.

Tristan followed her off the trolley then
indicated to the far side of the street where a massive mansion
took up half the block.

“Guess you guys don’t know the meaning of the
word ‘subtle,’” she said.

Most Alphas didn’t, but that wasn’t how he
lived. Tristan pictured his favorite home, an adobe nestled in the
foothills of the high New Mexican desert. The place was warm,
welcoming, and peaceful. Perfect for relaxing and clearing his head
after a job.

“When you have to house an entire pack, you
need a lot of space,” he said dryly.

Isabel froze on the sidewalk. Her hazel eyes
widened, then widened again until they swallowed her face. “There’s
a whole pack of monsters inside there.”

It wasn’t a question, but Tristan answered it
as such anyway. “Yes, there is an entire pack of wolves in there,”
he said. “Southern Moonlight Kin to be exact. They don’t take
kindly to being called monsters, so I suggest you be on your best
behavior, unless you want to end up on the menu.”

She blanched and swayed before his eyes.

Tristan grabbed her before she fainted. He’d
meant to scare her a little, but he didn’t want Isabel so scared
that she couldn’t function.

He didn’t like her viewing him and his people
as monsters, even though it was best if she did. Why it bothered
Tristan so much, he couldn’t say. He’d never been bothered by such
a thing before.

She’s human
, he reminded himself.
Humans are weak
.
They believe they are the apex
predators. They’re wrong.

Isabel turned green, and she looked as if she
were going to be sick.

A pang of guilt struck. “I was just kidding,”
Tristan said. “I will not allow anything to happen to you.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Tristan
knew they were the truth. She had a smart mouth and he might want
to strangle her at times, but he wouldn’t let anyone harm her.

Isabel’s gaze searched his face, then she
glanced back at the house.

“I swear,” Tristan said. He’d vow anything to
take away her fear. “Now come.”

He led her to the front of the mansion, where
they were met by a couple of Pierre’s guards. The two men stepped
forward and sniffed them. Their eyes narrowed when they caught
Isabel’s human scent.

“I need to speak to Pierre,” Tristan
said.

“Who shall we say is calling?” the wolf on
the left asked, watching them both closely.

“Tell him that Tristan Chevalier, Enforcer
for the Lycanian Elders, is in need of his assistance.”

The wolf on the right paled and took a step
back. His gaze immediately dropped to the porch floor. The man on
the left was slower, but he eventually followed suit.

Isabel looked at them then glanced at
Tristan. This time there was confusion in her eyes.

Better that than fear
, Tristan
thought.

The man on the right pressed the doorbell and
waited. A moment later, a short wolf dressed in an expensive suit
popped his head out the door. When he caught sight of Tristan, he
shoved the other two wolves out of the way and bowed.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, Enforcer,”
he said. “Please come inside and bring your little...” –he sniffed
and his nose wrinkled like he’d smelled something bad—
“
friend
with you.”

“After you.” Tristan ushered Isabel ahead of
him.

The second they entered the foyer, her eyes
widened and her mouth dropped open. Tristan had nearly done the
same thing the first time he’d seen the inside of the Southern
Alpha’s home.

Entering the mansion was like stepping back
into the seventeen hundreds. Everything had been meticulously
restored to its original grandeur.

“Tristan, my friend,” a booming voice said.
“What brings you to my humble abode?”

The question almost made Tristan laugh, since
there was nothing humble about Pierre’s abode, or the Alpha himself
for that matter.

* * * * *

Izzy continued to reel from the news that
Tristan was some kind of assassin. Her tumultuous thoughts were
interrupted when a dark-haired man with lightly tanned skin came
silently gliding down the staircase. Had he not spoken, Izzy
wouldn’t have known that he was there.

No, she mentally corrected. There’d be no way
to miss him. His presence filled the space, adding to its
opulence.

Izzy stared, unable to look away. She had
never seen anyone quite so beautiful. The man’s finely sculpted
face could only be called pretty. How he managed it without looking
feminine in the process was a mystery.

Tristan gave her an admonishing look then
glanced back to the man. “I’m sure you’re aware of what has brought
me to your fair city,” he said.

The man stopped before them and smiled. The
move seemed too practiced for her liking.

Yet, Izzy felt that smile all the way to her
toes when he directed the wattage at her. Was it hot in here? She
resisted the urge to tug on her collar.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” the man
asked, stepping closer to her.

Tristan looked as if he was about to refuse
the request, then thought better of it. Why he cared one way or the
other, Izzy didn’t know, since he’d made his views on humans
perfectly clear.

“Isabel MacDougal, I’d like you to meet
Pierre La Fontaine, Alpha of the Southern Moonlight Kin pack,”
Tristan said.

So this was the biggest monster in town. Izzy
stared at him until an image of his dark beast replaced his perfect
features. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he had better manners
than her.

Pierre took her hand before she offered it
and kissed the back of her knuckles in such a way that Izzy had no
doubt he’d done it hundreds of times before. A shiver tracked down
her spine, but somehow she kept her hand from trembling.

While Tristan exuded an air of ice, this man
was nothing but sweltering heat and hot summer nights. He used his
smoldering good looks to full advantage.

Izzy couldn’t imagine many women turned him
down once he crooked his finger in their direction. No doubt with
one look, he could make panties drop from fifty paces.

“A pleasure,” Pierre said. “I can’t remember
the last time a Sighted-One graced my doorstep.”

Tristan cleared his throat and insinuated
himself between them, forcing Pierre to release her.

Pierre’s amber gaze lit with speculation.
“Perhaps, Enforcer, we should talk in private.”

“That would be best,” Tristan said. “What I
have to say calls for discretion.”

“If you don’t mind waiting in the parlor,
Isabel.” Pierre pointed to a room off to the left. “I’ll have
refreshments brought to you.”

Despite the polite offer, it wasn’t a
request. “Sure,” she said. “Take all the time you need. I’ll just
go in there and fluff my petticoats.”

Pierre frowned in confusion.

Tristan laughed. “She’s a delight, isn’t
she?”

The Alpha watched her. “She’s
certainly...interesting,” he said.

Izzy walked into the parlor. Two navy-blue
settees had been arranged in the middle of the room, facing each
other. There were wooden side tables of various sizes and shapes
spaced throughout the parlor, along with several chairs and
stools.

Some of the tables held board games, while
others housed lamps. All were covered in lace of some type or
another. Everything looked so old and expensive that Izzy was
afraid to sit down.

A minute later, the man who’d met them at the
door came in, carrying a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and some
finger sandwiches on it. The idea that wolves served finger
sandwiches struck her as funny, but Izzy didn’t laugh. She didn’t
think he’d appreciate her sense of humor.

The man set the tray down on a small side
table then turned to her. “I thought instead of breakfast that
you’d prefer a sandwich. If you need anything else,” he said, “just
ring that bell.” He pointed to a cloth lever hanging from the
ceiling next to the door.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Izzy waited for him to leave then checked the sandwiches. As soon
as she realized they were turkey and ham, she tucked into them. She
hadn’t eaten last night or this morning. Right now, anything looked
good.

Izzy wandered around the room while she ate,
a glass of lemonade in one hand and a sandwich in the other. She
had no idea how long Tristan’s explanation would take, but Izzy
hoped they’d be out of here soon. She didn’t want to be in this
house any longer than necessary.

She stopped near a window and stared out at
the vast lawn. The lush green space had been carefully manicured to
project an image of southern refinement. If people only knew who
their neighbor really was, they’d be horrified.

Izzy had just turned to retrace her steps
when she heard Tristan’s voice. She stopped to listen. Where was it
coming from? The window was shut. She was alone in the room, and
the thick walls wouldn’t carry sound.

Tristan spoke again. There was no mistaking
the deep timbre of his voice.

She followed the sound to a heating vent
behind a nearby table. Izzy glanced over her shoulder to make sure
the door was closed then moved closer.

It was wrong to eavesdrop, but Izzy was
genuinely curious what he and Pierre were talking about. She
grabbed a small stool and took a seat. Izzy placed her food and
drink on the table, so if anyone came in unexpectedly it would look
like she was enjoying her meal.

“Never thought I’d see the day that you’d be
slumming it with a human,” Pierre said. “Even one as attractive as
her.”

She stiffened but listened for Tristan’s
response. Whatever he said, it was too low for her to hear. Izzy
scooted the stool closer.

“Have you located the Darkling?” Pierre
asked.

“I almost had him, but he opened a portal and
got away,” Tristan said. “He’s after the woman. Of that there is no
doubt.”

“Ah,” Pierre said. “That explains why you
brought her here. You know if you took away the purple streaks from
her hair and changed her formless clothes, she wouldn’t be bad to
gaze upon.”

Tristan mumbled, but his next words were
frighteningly clear. “She’s a means to an end,” he said. “Nothing
more.”

“Oh,” Pierre said. “I thought perhaps there
was something going on between you two. There seemed to be—”

“No!” Tristan cut off whatever he was going
to say. “You know I do not mix with humans. All I see is bait when
I look at her. Bait to catch the Darkling.”

His cold words left Izzy chilled to the bone.
She shouldn’t be surprised. Tristan had said from the outset that
he didn’t care for humans, yet somehow she’d convinced herself that
the frigid exterior was just a front.

She’d been a fool.

Izzy stood. She didn’t need to hear anymore.
She thought of Stone’s offer of help. Would it still stand? She
glanced once more at the closed door.

At any moment, Tristan might return. Izzy
needed to contact Stone, if for no other reason than to tell him
that he was safe because the monster was with her. They
all
were.

She pulled out the cell phone he’d given her
and turned it on. Izzy found the number and sent a quick text. Less
than a minute later, she received a response.

I’ll help you get away. Just tell me where
you are.

Izzy replied.
I’m someplace you can’t help
me. I’ll let you know if and when we leave.

Take care of yourself. The monsters aren’t
to be trusted.

Izzy knew that better than most. Tristan had
just squashed the tiny bit of doubt lingering inside of her. She
turned the phone off and shoved it into her purse. Izzy looked at
her half-eaten sandwich. Suddenly she wasn’t hungry anymore.

* * * * *

Tristan sat across from Pierre in his ornate
office. He’d never seen so much gilded gold outside of a Parisian
palace. He didn’t like the way the Alpha looked at him. It was as
if he knew something that Tristan did not.

“We need a place to stay. Preferably
someplace remote, so that I will know when the Darkling draws
near,” he said.

“No problem. I know just the place.” Pierre
sat back. “How does the woman feel about being used as bait?”

Tristan shrugged casually. “I hadn’t planned
to tell her.”

Pierre watched him closely. “What if
something happens to her?”

Tristan’s gut clenched. Nothing was going to
happen to Isabel.

“You cannot always protect bait,” Pierre
said. “Accidents happen.”

Tristan flinched.

“Are you sure there is nothing going on
between you two?” Pierre asked. “I’ve never seen you so wound
up.”

“Positive,” Tristan’s vehement response
didn’t have the effect he’d hoped.

Pierre grinned, looking positively enthralled
by the whole conversation. “You say that the woman is a means to an
end, yet she carries your scent.”

Tristan blanched. “I had no choice but to
touch her,” he said. “When I first encountered her, she refused to
come with me.”

Pierre’s face hardened, along with all the
muscles in his body. “When you say touch, what exactly do you
mean?”

There was one hard-and-fast rule within the
Moonlight Kin. A woman could be coerced, but never be forced into
physical intimacy. Doing such a thing was an automatic death
sentence for any Were.

Tristan had gladly carried that sentence out
a few times over the years, which was why he gnashed his teeth at
the Alpha’s insinuation. “I had to pick her up and carry her
someplace private so we could talk. That’s how my scent got on
her.”

Pierre relaxed a fraction. “It
seemed...stronger.”

He thought about the kiss, and his whole body
tensed. There was no sense in lying to the Alpha. They had ways of
ferreting out information. “She forced me to kiss her.”