Counterpart (Succubi & Incubi Assn.) (37 page)

“You and Melinda are so much alike.” He smiled. “And don't worry I
won't make you regret it. Other than that, is there anything else you want to
know?”

There were a lot of things I wanted to know, but 90% of them weren’t
going to be answered, so I settled on another one. “How much does he know?” I
asked, referring to Tristan.

Ethan thought about it for a few seconds. “You were passed out for a
while, and
Rosa
spent majority
of that time telling him the stories, you know how she is.”

It didn't surprise me that she would've made Tristan sit through
hours of story-telling. What I was more interested in, was how and why he was
taking this so easily. I never thought Tristan would find out, and even if he
did, I would've figured I would be the one to tell him, not
Rosa
. I was kind of jealous about that.

“Anyway, I have to go, got to help her with the incubi and succubi.
It’s a great job being an agent.” I could sense his way of trying to be
sarcastic.

“Wow, you're starting to learn how to show emotions,” I said. “I'm
almost proud if I wasn’t secretly pissed at you.”

“Don't get used to it,” he said, rolling his eyes at my latter
comment. “I will definitely be seeing you around. Oh, and before I forget, tell
Tristan I said good job.” Before giving me time to fully process his words, he
did a two-finger salute, just as black smoke swallowed his whole body, leaving
me back to square one of confusion.

Good job?
What did Tristan do that was a
good job?

Twenty-Five - Honesty

There have been times where I'd felt angst, nerves and even
pressure, but nothing could ever prepare me for what I was feeling when I
walked back into my room. It was like everything came together all in one,
pushing down on my shoulders like an endless weight.

Tristan was still sitting on my bed when I walked in, his eyes
moving from an object in his hands to meet mine. Judging by the way he was
still wearing slacks and a fairly clean white shirt only gave me the idea that
he had been here since the funeral. Or maybe he just never had time to change?
I don't know. The flawless skin showing between his jaw and the two undone
buttons slightly caught my interest.

How did this amazing guy just sit there, like nothing was wrong?

Soft sounds of music distracted me momentarily and I noticed that
his iPod was playing on my dock. He always seemed to have calm music playing.
Why is that?

“Why's what?”

My back stiffened. I always seem to speak my thoughts out-loud
lately. I really needed to get control of that. “Um.” My nerves were starting
to show in my speech. “I was just wondering…” Why am I finding it weird to ask
this? “It's nothing,” I finally settled on. My eyes averted to something that
wasn't Tristan. I never really noticed it until now, but my room was nearly at
the point of being messy. A few of my exercise books were scattered on the
floor. There were shirts and shorts on the ground—obviously needing a wash.

And then there was the heat reaching my cheeks, letting me know that
I was being watched.

“Maya, come here,” Tristan said.

Hesitantly, I looked back to him. The pillow—that was on his lap
before—now rested behind him. I slowly took the steps towards the bed all while
contemplating what was going to happen, in my head. As soon as I was sitting
crossed-legged in front of him, he moved so he was facing me. The next that
happened not only made me more nervous, but it caught me off guard.

His thumb glided over my brows—the way I did with his—and he watched
me intensely. “I want to know what's going on in your head,” he murmured.

“How can you touch me or even look at me knowing what I am?” I asked
without even thinking. His thumb stopped and I wanted to tell him to not stop.

His eyes met mine. “How can I judge you knowing what you do is what
we all do?”

“What do you mean?”

His thumb starting moving again, and he gradually ran it over my
temples, lightly dragging it down my cheek. “What you do... feeding off humans.
It's not exactly normal.” He smiled. “But hurting people—hurting things in that
fact—it happens everyday.”

“I'm still not following.” And I wasn't. Where was he going with
this?

Taking a deep breath, his fingers reached out and trickled behind my
ear, his palm resting on my cheek now. “We—humans—kill animals, all the time.
We do it because we need to eat. We need food to live—unless you're vegetarian
then that's a different story.” Another smile from him, and I knew he was
trying to make this easier for me. “What I'm trying to say, is that I can't
judge you for wanting to live. I can't hate or even dislike you for what you do
because it happens everyday. Maybe not in your case, but it does happen.
Telling me to judge you for what you are is like telling you to judge me for
eating meat. And there are people out there that do have a problem with it,
but...” He paused and slowly, he shook his head, letting out a long breath. “I
can't, Maya. I can't hate you.”

My breathing pattern was fucked, my mind scrambling to find some
sort of lost cause within his words. I couldn't though. This man right in front
of me was accepting this, because he understood. The way he was staring into my
eyes with great intensity, and the way his hand stayed planted on my skin only
proved that. My heart probably skipped a few beats in the time he was talking
too. It only confirmed Ethan's words. Tristan is a good guy. Why would I even
let that slip? “You don't find a single bit of it weird?” I asked, giving him
another chance to back out of this now.

“That’s the second time I’ve been asked that tonight. Trust me, I
still have to get used to it all, and eventually I will. I just want you to be
honest with me from now on.”

With nothing to do with the subject at hand, I suddenly felt like
being honest about everything. More importantly one thing though, and I don't
even know how I came to think about it. “I was jealous, you know.”

Confusion showed on his face and his brows furrowed. “Jealous? Of
what?”

I was back to not looking at him, and the nervousness of the
situation came. “You and Tori,” I mumbled.

The response I got was something I actually expected. He chuckled
softly. “I kind of knew.” Perfect, I am apparently transparent. “It's mostly my
fault though.”

“How so?” I asked.

“It's immature and stupid of me, I know. But being with Tori was my
way of trying to get you to finally admit it. Actually, it makes me sound like
a dick, but I swear she wasn't exactly a saint either.” I could have told him
that, actually I'm pretty sure I did but whatever.

“What were you waiting for me to finally admit on?” I asked.

“That you wanted me as much as I wanted you,” he replied, the humor
falling from his face. “I could see it. Anyone who couldn't see it was blind.
Admittedly, at first I denied it. Noah eventually pushed it out of me.”

I partially understood. “That's why he always asked me about you.”

“Yeah, he pretty much thought that we were being idiots. I guess
sitting beside us in English is a bad mistake on his part.” This time when he
grinned, I couldn't help but grin with him. It was obvious that English was
'Maya and Tristan flirting' hour.

Silence fell between us, and the curiosity over Tristan and Tori soon
came. “Did you really have sex with her?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “Yet another lie that I find stupid now.”
He sighed. “Another mistake that I'm willing to man up about and admit that it
was wrong of me to say that to you. Sometimes I don't think about the things I
say. But right here, right now isn't a mistake for me. In fact, I wouldn't be
surprised if you were mad at me.”

Why would I be mad at him? I was still surprised that he
actually
didn't have sex with Tori... or Penelope... I wonder what her agenda was then,
because right now, it's confusing. Maybe she just wanted Tristan all to
herself. Maybe she just wanted to keep us apart. Oh how that plan didn’t work
out.

No matter how much this conversation was starting to relieve me,
there was always going to be that stupid subconscious thought that was bound to
come up. “I'm not mad, we've all lied,” I started. “But as much as I admire
that you're doing this, the fact that I still have to feed on people will
always damper...” What was this? “Our relationship.”

His hand moved from my face, and my hands were engulfed with his
soon after. The same warmth that I felt in my dream was back, and it comforted
me. “Maya, this is where the time thing comes in. I've thought about it. I know
that you have to... do what you do.” I could tell that he was finding it hard
to even admit what I did. “But like I said, I will eventually get passed it.”
He sounded unbelievably confident about this. “I'm not saying that it won't
take a while, because it will. I just need you to keep being you and I am
willing to be as open-minded as I can. I love you, Maya, and I don't think I
could handle losing you.”

My muscles tensed when those three words were said. I didn't hear
anything after that nor did I really remember what he said before it.

My words chocked in my throat and I felt a large ache inside my
chest open. “You... you love me?”

Tristan blinked when he noticed what he said, and in the few seconds
that he was silent, I was pretty sure that he didn’t mean to say it. Then he said,
“Yeah, I do.” It was like he was saying it to himself more than to me. “I guess
I always have.”

“No one's ever told me that they loved me,” I mumbled. It caused
such a new feeling inside me, and those crazy flutters that I received were
back and making their way up my chest.

Oh God, was I going to puke?

“No one?” he asked confusingly.

I shook my head. It was true. No one had ever told me that they
loved me. Well, I guess I've heard the words from Melinda, Daniel and Jamie,
but they were different. The way Tristan said it—it went straight down to my
heart, making it pump harder. I could feel passion within it. And I know this
might sound crazy, but I could actually feel that he did in fact, love me. “I
guess coming from a neglected family, you don't really know what love feels
like.” It wasn't until I said that that it really hit me. The sudden hatred for
my family showed. I hated that they took that from me. It pissed me off that
they could affect me like this, even after fully pushing them out of my life.
Before I knew it, there were tears going down my cheeks. “I don't know what
went wrong with them, and I hate that.”

“Maya.” Tristan's hand was instantly up, brushing along my cheeks
before he pulled me against his chest. “I'm so sorry,” he murmured against my
hair, “don't think for one second that it was your fault.”

This was a first. Usually it was me who was consoling him about his
problems. Tonight however, it was me who was seeking the comfort and he was
here to give that. It only led me to press myself closer to him, because
whether anyone liked it or not, he was my sanctuary. Every time I was around
him, or near him, I felt safe. Even the ache from my parents was almost
non-existent when he was around. He took my pain, chained it up to a ton of weight,
and dropped it into the ocean, along with the key. That's what it was like
around him. Just being here—in his arms—made everything that much better.

His scent traveled through my nose and I slipped my arms around his
waist, burying my nose into the crook of his neck. “I missed you,” I whispered.

I felt his arms tighten around my own waist. “You don't need to miss
me anymore, Maya. I'm not going anywhere.” His body slowly detached from mine,
and my body didn’t like it at first, but when he only moved so he could hold my
face in his hands, I relaxed. “I can't bear to ever lose you, again.”

A slow brush of his nose against mine made a content sigh pass my
lips. Within this single touch, it was as if a wave of comfort came over me,
slowly pushing me against the source. A slow movement of the pad of his thumbs
on my cheek added a soothing, and I didn't want it to end. The caress started a
form of want to run through me. My eyes closed when the touch moved to my lips,
his thumb slowly gliding over the skin. He cupped my face, tilting it back and
I could feel his eyes on me, watching every reaction I was having. And just as
if my thoughts couldn't get anymore non-existent, I felt his lips slowly run
along mine.

To me, I felt like this was our first encounter—that we were doing
this for the first time—and it kind of was. Other times, he didn't know who I
really was. Now that he did, it somehow made me nervous about kissing him. It
wasn't until his scent flowed through me, and the taste of him practically
registered that everything kicked in and the hesitance was gone.

Taking his bottom lip between mine, I applied pressure, only to
receive the same reaction from him. The energy that shot through us was nothing
you could receive from energy shots, or even a pop of ecstasy, but the urgency
grew between us and created a new sensation with it. The taste of him
overpowered all my senses, and unlike all previous moments like this, I
embraced the passion.

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