Counterpart (Succubi & Incubi Assn.) (25 page)

Tristan.

I knew it was him because my demon decided to make those stupid
flutters in my stomach. Even in a tuxedo he looked good—sexy—it was almost too
much.

He was sitting in the front of the crowd, followed by a few of the
other fighters who had been close to Geoff. His hair was the same as it had
always been. The tuxedo done his body wonders, making him seem manlier than he
already was. He wasn't smiling, and that was understandable. But that frown
that he had on his face, I just wanted to get rid of it. I didn't like it.

Ethan was right though, Tori was nowhere to be seen.

“She probably knew both Melinda and I would be here,” I said.

Ethan didn't answer.

We watched the funeral happen, and my guilt just deepened every time
one of the family members walked up to speak their words of departure. One by
one, people walked up to the coffin, saying goodbye. Even Melinda decided to.
There was also a small talk exchange between her and Tristan and I noted down
to ask her about it later. I was surprised though. Not once did she make a move
on a male. She just sat in her seat calmly, all to herself.

When the funeral finally ended and the group walked off to do
whatever they did after funerals, Melinda joined us back at the car.

“That was so different.” She propped up beside me. “It was like
depressing in a way.”

“It's expected at a funeral,” I answered, still watching the people
move in different directions. I had lost sight of Tristan once everyone started
moving, so I wasn't sure if he had left yet or if he was talking to people.

“Still, it kind of rubbed off on me. I've never been to a funeral.”
This wasn't a surprise. “I don't think I want to go to another.”

I moved off the hood and headed towards the driver’s seat. “I'm sure
that's what everyone says.”

“You're not going to go say goodbye?” she asked.

Her words caught me off guard. “Why? I didn't even know the guy.”

She shrugged and opened the back door. “I don't know it might help
with the guilt. You could probably get closure or something.”

I looked back at the graveyard. She wasn't wrong. Maybe it would
help, considering I was feeling depressed myself. Maybe it wouldn't hurt.
“Okay, I'll be quick.”

“We're not in a hurry,” she said, wagging her brows at Ethan's back.
And here was the Melinda I knew so well. Her fascination with Ethan was going
to get her killed one day. I hope she knew that.

I had never stepped foot on a graveyard before, and that had to be
something people found weird. But it was true. No one had died.

I attempted not to wince as I passed several graves, avoiding from
stepping on someone’s grave. I didn’t know what it was, but it just felt
disrespectful. And if anyone decided to walk on my grave, I was going to haunt
the fuck out of them.

I released a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding, and
stopped in front of the freshly buried grave. There were still people around,
but they were too busy to notice I was here. If I wanted to do this, I needed
to do this now.

I was never one to talk to the ground, unless I was directing it to
the underworld. A lovely image of Geoff sparked in my head. He was looking up
at me from the underworld, his middle finger raised. It was a rather amusing
image, and I would gladly accept his way of showing his feelings for me. But it
wasn’t realistic. Geoff was a good man. He doesn’t deserve to be sent down. If
anything he deserves to be up in the sky, with those goody-goody-gum-drops that
people love to worship.

“So, I don't know how to do this properly,” I started. “I guess I
should start by saying I'm sorry. I didn't think it would come to this, and I
know you were a pretty great guy.” And then the words just started spilling
out. “If I knew she was going to be there, I wouldn't have done that to you. I
wouldn't have... you know—it was just, I did it for him. And right now, I'm
feeling so guilty about this because I know how close you were to him, so it's
like I just hurt him even more. I didn't mean to be the reason why. If I could
take it back, I would, but I can't.”

There was an ache in my chest, and I tried to push it down. The
speech I had just said was everything I wish I didn’t have to say. I wish I
didn’t do the things to him. He didn’t deserve anything I instigated. And, that
made me so angry at myself.

“If you could take what back?”

I froze. A shiver ran up my spine as goose bumps surrounded my skin.
I was stuck in my frozen state, wincing at his voice echoing in my head. How
long had he been standing there? Why didn’t I realize he was there? I was so
engrossed in my speech that I completely forgot there were people still here.

Especially the one behind me.

Tristan stood a few feet away as I turned, his hands pocketed in a
pair of black slacks while his eyes flicked from me to the grave, then back to
me.

“Maya, what did you do?”

Cougar
Town
was having a marathon today,
and much to Tristan’s dismay, that was what we were doing.

“Would you ever fuck a cougar?” I asked, throwing a piece of popcorn
in my mouth.

Tristan dragged his eyes from the TV to me, arching a brow with
curiosity. “Why would you ask that?”

I shrugged, fingering another piece of popcorn. “I don't know I heard
a lot of little boys like you would go for a woman who was like 40.”

“Depends on the woman, really,” he said, taking the piece of popcorn
between my fingers, popping it into his mouth before I could complain.

Seriously though, the bowl is right there.

I rolled my eyes and pulled my legs under me, resting my elbow on
the back of the couch. “And what does this woman need to be for you to give up
your dignity?”

I was semi-glad that everyone had decided to go out tonight. Jamie
had an assignment due in a few days so she had gone off to the library. Melinda
had also gone out—except she was doing the complete opposite to what Jamie was
doing. Noah was having a party at his and Tristan’s apartment tonight. I was
going to go but I changed my mind at the last minute. I just couldn’t be
fucked. Tristan ended up texting me, asking where I was, and once I told him I
was at home, he made it his priority to come and be my entertainment. Just like
friends do.

Just… friends.

“Well…” I could see him trying to fight a smile, and it only caused
me to fight one as well. He slid down the back of the couch until his head was
at the same level as mine. “It's true that they say that an older woman is more
experienced, I'm not going to deny. For me to show any woman my amazing bed skills,”
I rolled my eyes. Is every guy conceited? “I'd have to get to know them.”

“Bullshit.” That had to be the biggest lie ever. “I've seen you have
your nights where you didn't even want to know the girls name, I remember you
telling me and I quote 'If I find out this girls name, she's going to expect me
to remember it and I'm just too drunk right now to even go there.'”

Tristan let out a loud laugh at the memory. “Those were good nights
too. It was lucky, because they never did give their names. I think they had
the same thing in mind.”

“You'll always be known as a one night stand for some chicks,
Tristan,” I teased with a hint of sympathy.

“Some chicks, yes, then there's the ones that always come back for
more.” He flashed me a wide grin, and I had to admit he did get the ones that
wanted to come back.

“Don’t let your big ego get a hold of you, okay?” I said, pressing
my finger in the midst of his brown hair before it stopped on his head. “You
won’t be able to hold your head up soon.”

I watched as his eyes moved up to mine, and I could feel what he was
trying to do. He didn’t make a move to push my finger away from his head,
neither did I to be honest. I could feel the silk, smooth texture of his
strands as they glided over my finger.

I just wanted to run my fingers through his hair, and keep them
there. There was a short moment when my eyes started to lose themselves in his,
and the urge to lean forward and taste the softness of his lips was tempting
me.

With a ragged breath, I moved my finger away, much to demons
temptations. As if the finger was what started it, the trance that Tristan was
starting to pull me into vanished. Not taking any of the fluttery feelings
along with it.

“What about you?”

“Huh?” I was so engrossed with the weird movement inside me, that I
completely forgot what we were talking about.

“Would you give out to a 40 year old guy?” he asked.

I instantly cringed and tried to hold my face from contorting. “No
way, I may love sex but I have standards.”

So much for those standards. I almost felt sick that I did what I
did and how it got me nowhere. Until now that is.

“Tristan.” It was all my voice would come up with, and I didn’t even
say it. It was more like I exhaled his name out. “What are you talking about?”
I didn’t know if it would work, but my way of distracting was almost causing a
bunch of heat to reach my cheeks—and I hardly ever blushed or got embarrassed.

Tristan was confused by my actions and honestly, I couldn’t blame
him. “You said that you were sorry—that you did it for him. Who's him?”

How the hell was I supposed to answer that? '
Oh, I’m just letting
Geoff here know that I’m terribly sorry for his death, and that I didn’t mean
for my affection towards you to get in the way
'. Yeah, I don’t think that
was going to go down well. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Maya—”

“What are you doing here anyway? I thought everyone was leaving.”
Why
the hell had everyone not left yet?

I’m not sure if he decided to let go of his curiosity, or he just
didn’t realize that I changed the subject, but either way, he took the bait. “I
told Melinda to send you down. I saw you over there earlier. If you were
planning on hiding, you should try a different spot than one that's in plain
view.”

Note to self: tell Ethan that he sucks at hiding spots. “Noted.”

We were silent for a long minute, and within that sixty seconds, I
watched his body move towards mine. It was like watching one of those fashion
shows, where that really manly looking male model walked down the runway,
suit-clad, hair perfectly done, and a casual hand placed deeply in the pockets
of the slacks.

It was literally making me want to run away before I attempted to
touch what was underneath that suit.

He’s immune to you, Maya. But he doesn’t want you. Remember what
happened a few days ago, when he told you that he didn’t want to see you again?
REMEMBER?

“So, you want to tell me what happened?”

My inner monologue was fighting against me. My demon was fighting
against my inner monologue. I literally felt like three different people wanted
to come out. “Nothing happened.”

“Bullshit.” He stopped right in front of me and it was like being in
an interrogation room. The air around me was getting thinner by the second—or
maybe that was me holding my breath.

I don't know why I was acting like this, the multiple personalities,
the want then the hate. Knowing the fact that he had a piece of me in him was
nerve wrecking.

And, then it hit me.

That’s why I always wanted Tristan—why my demon always craved for
his touch—she was missing her other half. I wondered how long it had been since
Conrad and
Bethany
had been
together? Centuries, I presume.

Poor, demon, you must’ve felt so lonely.

Wait, why am I even apologizing? She put me here... with the help of
me, I guess.

“Maya?”

“Huh?”

His blue eyes were narrowed cautiously, his hand outstretched like
he was just about to touch me but thought against it. “I wanted to talk to you
about the other night.”

I didn’t even need to ask what night he was talking about. There was
only one. “I think everything was said then and there.”

“No.”
No?
Was there more? A pained expression seemed to take
a hold of him then, and he turned sideways. “Can we go sit somewhere?”

I was hesitant for a reason. If he only wanted to talk to me and
give me more reasons to kill Tori, I wasn’t up for it. Then again, he said he
didn’t want to see me, and here he is. Maybe it’s a turn around. “Okay.”

We found a nice bench not far from where we were. It sat underneath
a tree, shading away the suns bright glares. Not much people were here, except
for the ones that had come to see their loved ones, and the ones that were
still leaving from Geoff’s funeral.

I couldn’t help but realize that while we walked to the bench,
Tristan was quiet. Stuck in his own silence, it was like he was preparing a speech.
I didn’t know if I wanted to be nervous... or anxious.