Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan (2 page)

This was their time. The time when they were
most active. The time when the real monsters came out and
hunted.

Izzy hurried along the uneven sidewalks. She
heard music coming from Bourbon Street. The jumble of sounds and
the collision of smells should’ve comforted her, but Izzy knew she
wasn’t alone.

She tripped over a raised concrete slab and
fell forward. She grabbed the wrought iron fence that ran along the
front of one of the old gentrified homes to keep from falling.

The metal felt good in her hand. Cool. Hard.
Real. Real as the heavy footsteps coming up fast behind her. Izzy
pushed away from the fence and sprinted on.

Her blood pumped so hard she could barely
hear herself think. Izzy turned to see who approached and collided
with a wall. She cursed under her breath and looked at the
offending object in her way. It wasn’t a wall at all. Somehow she’d
buried her nose in a man’s hard chest.

Strong hands grasped her arms. Whether to
keep her from falling or prevent her from leaving, she didn’t know.
Izzy craned her neck to see who she’d run into. Her gaze collided
with a pair of mercury-colored eyes, and she shivered, despite his
handsome face.

Her body went from hot to cold to hot again.
Staring in his eyes was like staring into the face of the Arctic.
His white-blond hair and stern expression mirrored the harsh,
unforgiving environment.

Izzy opened her mouth to apologize, but
before she uttered a single syllable, the image of a white wolf
obscured his striking features. She felt the blood drain from her
face. He was one of
them
.

“Let me go,” she said, struggling to break
his grasp.

He didn’t release her. Instead, the man’s
grip tightened. “You’re being hunted,” he said.

She knew that. Izzy had known that for days.
Weird that he announced it like he wasn’t the one hunting her.

The man had to be the biggest monster she’d
ever seen. Given his size, he’d be unnaturally large for a
werewolf, and that was saying something, since they leaned toward
massive.

“Let me go or I’m going to scream,” Izzy
said.

“This is the French Quarter,” he said. “No
one will notice or care.” His sensual lips tilted into a smirk.

Izzy wanted to knock that smirk right off his
face.

As if reading her mind, his smile vanished.
“If you don’t come with me, you’re going to die.”

Despite the ominous and rather clichéd
warning, Izzy had no intention of going anywhere with him. She’d
seen his true form. She would be safer locked in a cage with a
half-starved polar bear. Everything about this man screamed
danger.

A trashcan lid banged at the end of the
street. They both turned to see what had caused the noise. Izzy
took his momentary distraction as a chance to get away. She twisted
out of his hold and took off running.

She didn’t get far. He was on her before
she’d made it ten feet. Given his tremendous height and long legs
it wasn’t really a surprise, but she’d had to try.

A small crowd of men and women wandered by.
Izzy flagged them down. As they slowed to a stop, the giant beside
her swung her around, and his mouth descended upon hers.

* * * * *

Tristan needed her to shut up and listen, but
short of gagging her, he had no way of making her comply. He’d
expected to find a flighty, air-headed female, but Isabel was also
far smarter than he’d anticipated. Manipulating her wasn’t going to
be easy. When she flagged the small crowd down, Tristan used the
only thing he had on hand to silence her. Himself.

He spun her around in his arms and pulled her
close. His mouth came down upon hers before she understood what was
happening. The second their lips met, something unexpected
occurred, something entirely unwanted.

Tristan’s body hardened, and heat exploded
inside of him. Urges that he viciously suppressed surfaced in an
instant. His hands tightened on her shirt, and his arms locked. He
felt her nipples harden against his chest a moment before her body
melted into his.

Instead of keeping the embrace superficial,
Tristan deepened it. He nipped Isabel’s full bottom lip until she
opened for him, then Tristan surged inside.

Sweetness exploded on his tongue. He’d never
tasted anything like it, like her. It was at odds with the citrusy
aroma wafting from her skin. Tristan wanted more, so he took
it.

He sank his hand into the wild tangle of her
blonde-and- purple hair then tilted her head to get better access.
Whoops and laughter surrounded them, but he ignored it all as he
thoroughly explored Isabel’s mouth.

Her hands tightened on his shirt, hesitated a
moment, then she kissed him back. Fire spread through his body,
making every inch of him hard. They needed to find a room before he
ended up stripping her naked right here. Tristan calculated the
distance to the nearest hotel. If they left now, it wouldn’t take
long to reach it.

She’s human
. The thought filtered
through his mind. The reminder chilled his ardor as effectively as
dumping ice water down the front of his jeans.

Tristan reluctantly pulled back. His chest
heaved as he drew in air, waiting for his head to clear.

* * * * *

Izzy’s world continued to tilt off its axis,
even after he ended the embrace. Despite his frosty exterior, the
man’s lips were scorching. Maybe he wasn’t made of ice after
all.

The crowd she’d flagged down had wandered off
at some point, leaving them alone. In some part of her mind, Izzy
had realized that they were leaving, but for the life of her, she
hadn’t been able to tear her mouth away. Izzy had been kissed
before. Plenty of times. But never like this.

His hands were still locked around her waist,
clutching her shirt. The heat of his palms seared her flesh and
made her wonder what would happen if they were skin to skin.
Spontaneous combustion came to mind.

He must’ve realized what he was doing because
he jerked his hands away and stepped back, putting some distance
between them. This time when he looked at her, he scowled, banking
the heat that had simmered in his mercury-colored eyes.

Was he mad at her or himself? It didn’t
really matter. She wasn’t going anywhere with him, even if her lips
were tingling and other parts of her were making unreasonable
demands.

The man might be angry, but he remained fully
aware of their surroundings. “If you don’t come with me willingly,
I’m going to pick you up and carry you.”

Izzy glared at him and scrambled out of
reach. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Before the sound of her words died, the man
hoisted her over his shoulder and took off running down the street.
The sudden move jarred Izzy’s ribs, driving the air from her lungs.
It would serve him right if she threw up on him. And she would’ve,
had she bothered to eat.

Izzy managed to drag a breath into her body.
“Put me down this instant!” She smacked his back, but the man
didn’t notice. “Do you hear me?”

He grunted in response but didn’t slow.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but
you’re not going to get away with kidnapping me,” Izzy said.

“Who is going to stop me?” He didn’t even
sound winded when he spoke. “You?” he asked.

She’d stop him. Just as soon as she managed
to catch her breath and quell the nausea rising inside her.

They passed several revelers on the way to
Louis Armstrong Park. No one paid attention to them, even when she
cried for help. The sight of a man carrying a woman over his
shoulder wasn’t unusual in this part of town.

The music faded as they moved farther and
farther away. Soon, they’d be isolated. Izzy couldn’t allow that to
happen. Every investigative procedure show she’d ever watched said
never leave with your attacker.

Of course, they never mentioned what to do if
your attacker picked you up and carried you away.

“Put me down,” she said. “I want to
walk.”

His thumb stroked over the back of her thigh.
Every muscle inside of Izzy stiffened, while other parts
melted—thanks to that stupid kiss. She pressed her lips together.
She could still taste him. And an insane part of her that she
refused to acknowledge wanted more.

“I mean it,” Izzy said. “Put me down, or I’m
going to hurl on you.” She gagged to prove she wasn’t bluffing.

His footsteps faltered. Guess he didn’t want
to be vomited on. “You cannot get away,” he said.

Probably true, but it wouldn’t stop her from
trying.

“Let me go, and we’ll forget this ever
happened,” Izzy said.

He shook his head, sending his long blond
hair into his face. “I’m afraid that’s not an option,” he said.

Izzy saw her last chance to escape. She took
a deep breath to scream again. The man leapt over six feet,
dropping her down onto his hard shoulder. The move knocked the wind
out of her again. No doubt that was his intention.

She gasped. “Jerk!” Izzy couldn’t see his
obnoxious smile, but she felt his shoulders shake with laughter.
He’d pay for that.

* * * * *

For a human, Isabel MacDougal had a lot of
spirit. Most women would be screaming their heads off by now. Oh
sure, she’d tried to get help, but she hadn’t fought him.

A woman afraid for her life would’ve ripped
the hair from his head, which told Tristan that she wasn’t as
afraid of him as she claimed to be.

He kept running, moving them deeper into the
shadows. He still sensed the Darkling’s magic thanks to the
lodestone around his neck, but it was fainter now.

Tristan didn’t want to think about how close
Isabel had come to being captured by the Darkling. He’d barely
managed to reach her first.

He sniffed the air. Other than a few homeless
people and some unsavory types, the park was empty. He kept moving.
With enough distance between them, they wouldn’t be disturbed.
Eventually Tristan stopped and set Isabel down.

She wobbled then staggered a few feet away.
“What do you plan to do to me now that you’ve abducted me?” she
asked.

Tristan arched a brow. “I’m not going to
attack you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“You already did,” she reminded him.

His eyes narrowed. “I kissed you. It’s not
the same.”

Her pale brow furrowed. “Why did you kiss
me?”

Good question. Tristan had been wondering the
same thing, since now it seemed like such a mistake. It would be
easy to say that he’d been trying to keep her silent. That had been
the catalyst behind his actions, but the truth was Tristan didn’t
care if she screamed. He would’ve taken her with him anyway. Then
there was the kiss itself... and what happened afterward.

Not liking the direction his thoughts were
taking, he glared at her. Something about her mouth captured his
attention. Even now, her full lips drew his reluctant gaze. They
were moist, red, and oh so soft. Even her taste had been different
than he’d expected.

Perhaps she wore something to enhance their
appearance, enhance their flavor?

Tristan might stretch the truth with others,
but he never lied to himself. That honeysuckle flavor was all her
own, and damned if he didn’t want more.

His frowned deepened. That wasn’t going to
happen. He shouldn’t have touched her in the first place. It wasn’t
part of his plan.

Tristan didn’t need to be thinking about her
lips or her succulent taste. He was here to kill a Darkling, and
nothing more. If he kept Isabel alive in the process, then great,
but her continued existence wasn’t necessary for accomplishing his
mission. At least not after she drew the Darkling out.

“I kissed you to save your life,” Tristan
said.

Isabel snorted in disbelief. “Right, sure you
did.”

“I did,” he said, sounding defensive. “You’re
in danger.”

She cocked her head and looked at him. “From
who? As far as I can tell, you’re the only threat to my
safety.”

Tristan didn’t like his actions being
questioned. She should just thank him and be grateful he’d arrived
when he had. “Someone is hunting you.”

“That didn’t answer my question, Frosty,” she
said.

She was smart and oddly attractive despite
the awful purple in her hair. “No, I didn’t,” Tristan said. “And my
name is not Frosty.”

“Whatever, Ice.” Isabel rolled her eyes. “Are
you always a jerk, or am I just special?”

Tristan approached her until he loomed above
her. “You’d do well to remember what I am,” he said softly.

She bit her lower lip.

His gaze dropped to her mouth of its own
volition, and something dark rose inside of him. Her tongue darted
out to wet her lips. Tristan’s jaw clenched.

The memory of their kiss came charging back,
and his entire body tensed to the point of pain. He curled his
hands into fists to keep from grabbing her.

“I know what you are. It’s not like I can
ever forget,” Isabel said. “I see the real you every time I look at
you.”

Tristan jerked his head back. He knew
Sighted-Ones could see the beast lurking beneath their human forms.
It was one of the things that made them so valuable to the
Darklings, but it unsettled him to know a human had such ability.
It would make hiding from them impossible.

The only thing that kept them from being a
direct threat to the Moonlight Kin was the fact that most humans
wouldn’t believe them. If that were to change...then people like
Isabel MacDougal would need to be eliminated.

The thought left Tristan decidedly uneasy,
but he refused to look at why. Instead, he focused on her colorful
hair.

“A simple thank-you would’ve been enough,” he
said.

Her brow rose at the same time as her smart
mouth dropped open. “You expect me to thank you, Marshmallow? After
what you did? Are you insane?” she asked.