taunting… The thought of harming someone repulsed me so much I couldn't complete the picture in my mind. I just knew it had to be nearly unbearable to fight that impulse…and the feeling of not conquering it could only be worse. Especially when the person you wanted to hurt—to kill—was the person you also loved.
I tempted this urge in him and didn't even know what he went through. My heart ached for Tristan and the struggle for control he had to fight every time he was with me. I squeezed his hand once to communicate I understood and then tried to pull my hand from his, thinking that just holding his hand made it even worse for him. He held tighter to mine, though, and shook his head.
'It's way too late for you to worry now,' he whispered.
'Done with this arm,' Mom said, standing up. 'Trade places with me, Tristan.'
Tristan took my hand as soon as he was seated again, now on my right.
'This is why I was so concerned when I first saw you with Tristan,' Mom said as she rearranged everything in front of her. 'I hadn't seen him in twenty years and I didn't know how he was. The Amadis told me over the years he was still with us, but he stayed away most of the time, so I didn't know for sure.'
She filled the syringe again and I looked back at Tristan as she stuck the needle into my arm.
'I was too ashamed,' Tristan muttered, dropping his eyes from mine, staring at his lap again. 'I am supposed to be this strong, invincible, nearly perfect being, but it took immense effort to control my own nature. I didn't want the Amadis to see and know that about me. I would check in to let them know I hadn't gone back to the Daemoni and to absorb Amadis power when I needed it.'
'Amadis power?' I asked. 'What is that?'
'Sorry, hon,' Mom said, 'I can't give details. Just remember you and I—and Tristan—have unusual…abilities. Our powers must come from somewhere, right?'
Abilities? Powers? I'd never thought of them that way. They'd always been annoying quirks that made me weird. But after everything that happened tonight…and thinking about everything Mom and Tristan could do that just wasn't normal…I realized that's exactly what they were. I looked at Mom and opened my mouth to ask a question, but she shook her head.
'This is about Tristan, Alexis,' she reminded me, seeing my frustration.
She pressed along my left arm and, not able to feel it, I shook my head. She picked up the scalpel and I immediately turned toward Tristan.
'Can I tell her what the Amadis power does for me?' he asked Mom. 'So at least she can understand some of it and its importance to me?'
When Mom didn't answer—and I didn't feel any pressure on my arm yet—I looked at her. She seemed to be considering it, then finally nodded.
I lay my head against the table again and watched Tristan as he stared at the table and explained. 'Amadis power allows me to conquer the… monster …within me. It strengthens the goodness, so it can overcome everything else bred into me.'
'So it's good for you,' I said.
'Yes,' he answered quietly. 'I need it.'
'You would've been better off staying with them,' Mom admonished. Tristan didn't answer. He looked at me again and returned to what he'd been saying.
'Once I realized that, with great effort, I could control myself with you, I wanted to learn more about you. You intrigued me…and you made me happy . In all my years, I had never experienced that emotion—happiness— and you gave it to me in a day.' He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
I hurt to hear he'd never once felt happiness in his two-hundred-odd years. That's such a long time to live. And to be miserable the whole time? But I never had either. In my very short life, I could not remember ever feeling real joy. Mom and I had some good memories, but not true happiness. Not like what I felt when I was with Tristan. He brought the best out of me. And now I couldn't imagine not being with him—going back to my old, dark, lonely life...I knew I just couldn't do it. Even knowing what I did now.
'So,' he continued, 'I started looking for more ways to spend time with you without scaring you off. I realized immediately when I'm with you, that monster inside…well, it doesn't exactly go away, but it's…quiet, repressed. You bring out the good in me.'
'Like the Amadis power?' I asked, surprised.
He smiled again, less sorrow in it this time. 'That's what I thought at first.'
'It couldn't be,' Mom said. 'Until the Ang'dora , Alexis, your power is extremely weak. Not strong enough to do what you have for Tristan.'
'And it's different,' Tristan added. 'It's just who you are naturally, what you do to me. Nothing special or extraordinary. Just you being you. You bring out the best in me.'
Funny. I'd just been thinking the same about him . It dawned on me the connection we had—we each needed the other to truly thrive, to be the best we could be.
'So you don't want to kill me, right?' I asked.
Tristan grimaced at my question. He stared at the table for a moment and then looked me directly in the eye. 'I could not consciously harm a single hair on your head. I knew when I met you I had to maintain control—I could never hurt you—and it has become easier every day since. Even all that blood tonight…at one time that would have caused all hell to break loose. Literally. But not anymore.'
'Why?' I asked. 'I mean, why do you think it's easier to control now?'
'Because I love you,' he said matter-of-factly, still holding my eyes. 'The pain I would feel if I ever did anything to you far outweighs any desire or force within me. Sometimes that other force tries to fight it, but my love for you is overpowering every other urge.'
'Love tends to do that,' Mom said quietly. 'What you need to understand, Alexis, is how amazing it is for Tristan to feel that…to know love. He was created for the exact opposite…hatred and evil–'
Tristan cringed.
'Sorry,' she apologized. 'But, unfortunately, it's true. I personally thought it was impossible for Tristan to love anyone. He's surprised us all, though me more than others. Many of the Amadis believed it could happen, that he could love. I didn't think he would go back to his old life—I wasn't positive, but I didn't think he would—but I never thought he could come so far as to love . And I have to admit it bothered me at first, that the person he loves is you, my own daughter. But I see you two together every day. I can't deny the truth….'
We sat there quietly for a while, Mom continuing her mini-surgery on my arm. I closed my eyes and my mind whirled. A ticker tape of questions ran through my head. I hit information overload, unable to process it all.
'But now that you know the truth, Alexis, I'll understand if you can't love me,' Tristan said quietly. 'It's a lot to accept.'
I chuckled. All this time I'd been worried about him not accepting me. He watched me as he waited for my answer, his eyes noticeably darkening with each beat of my heart. I knew he expected the worst. But all I could think about was what he overcame—his own natural desires, what he was made for—so he could be good . And I knew to my very core he was good. And he loved me. I squeezed his hand.
'I told you I wouldn't change my mind,' I said.
He gazed into my eyes and he must have seen the truth because immediate relief washed over his face. He lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against the back of it.
'Okay, you're glass-free,' Mom said, sitting back in her chair with a heavy sigh. 'What a night.'
'Oh, yeah, what happened at the store?' I asked. With such a surreal discussion, the accident now seemed like a different lifetime or dimension. 'I mean, with the driver?'
'The police think he was drunk and tried to escape the car before it hit the store,' Mom said. 'The door was open as if he planned to jump, but apparently, he must have just fallen out and under the car, because it rolled over him, crushing his chest.'
'Ugh.' My own injuries from the night now felt miniscule. I could only hope it was quick for him. 'Do they know who he was?'
'His name was Phillip Jones. He lived here in the Cape. Some people from the bar came down to the scene, said he'd been drinking since this morning because his wife left him.'
Phillip…Phil … My mind flashed on the orange car sitting partially in the store…and then the orange Camaro the wife-beater at the park had jumped into when Tristan scared him off. Oh! I looked at Tristan, my eyes huge.
