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end up falling in love, truly and deeply, we can deal with it when the time comes. I wouldn’t mind having a sugar-momma." He winked at her, and Kira's mood lightened a little bit.

"I’ll marry a rich man, and you can be the hot pool boy I have a scandalous affair with."

"Or, I can make a ton of money and pay for all the plastic surgery to keep you looking young. Pumped up lips and a little Botox for the wrinkles—I don’t like it when faces actually move you know."

"Can’t wait," Kira said and pretended to growl like a cougar. He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her from the tree branch and into his arms. They slipped from the shade of the overhanging tree into the heat of the sun, and it refreshed Kira, giving her energy.

"What does the sun feel like to you?" Kira asked, loving the serenity she always felt when outdoors.

"Sort of like an electric current prickling my skin. It stings, but I don’t mind."

"And what does my sunlight feel like to you?"

"I imagine it’s comparable to being burned at the stake. Every part of my body boils under the heat."

"I’m sorry," Kira said, and Tristan brushed the lock of hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ear.

"I don’t blame you. You were only protecting yourself. Besides, as soon as you stop, the pain does too, in an instant."

"Still…"

"Nope. No feeling sorry for the vampire. Besides, it’s my turn to ask you a question." She looked up at him, waiting. "Are you really a mix between Protector and Punisher? I thought so, but without tasting more of you, I can’t be sure."

Gross, Kira thought, tasting me? "There will be no blood exchanges today, so I’ll just tell you that I am and you’ll have to trust me."

He smiled, showing her that he had popped his teeth out again, jokingly.

But then he frowned, saying, "You should dye your hair. It’s too obvious. If word gets out that you exist, every vampire around the world will be coming after you."

"And then all hell breaks loose, right?" Kira ran a hand through her curls. She had never even thought about her hair as dangerous, as giving her away. Her eyes maybe, but how deadly could a strawberry blonde mess really be?

"Let’s hope we never have to figure that out," he said.

Kira silently agreed. All she needed was to let go for a second, lower her guard and then bam! She remembered her parents, how vampires had jumped them, coming out of the bushes with no warning sign. If a single vampire ever caught her, he could keep her around, drinking her almost dead for immunity, then letting her blood replenish for more supplies. Kira saw Tristan fight Diana, John, and Jerome. Without their light, conduits were no match for vampires. Our fire is our only weapon, Kira thought. Conduits needed to exist, but she could mean their end.

"You know, you seem different to me," Kira said, shaking her head and changing the subject. No more dark thoughts, not while relishing the cool embrace of his arms around her, comforting despite the cold. "Happier, somehow. Like the brooding, sad Tristan has been mostly replaced by the mischievous one."

"I am." He smiled against her forehead. "You don’t even know what a relief it is to talk to someone about all of this. I’ve been holding it in for one hundred years, and finally, I can openly and honestly talk about how I feel. I can be myself."

"I understand," Kira said, as she rested her head on his chest, noticing the steady beat of his heart. "I can’t talk to Luke about how I feel about all of this. He would never understand why I’m even talking to you. He doesn’t know what it feels like to be trapped. I never asked for these powers. I never asked to be a conduit, and the potential end of the world, as Luke described it, if some vampire becomes immune through me. I never wanted any of it. But he’s always lived this life. He always wanted it, and he loves his job, I can tell. He told me to keep the healing thing to myself, you know? He thinks the conduit council won’t react kindly. It makes me question what they’re like, whether I even want to be a part of it."

"I was wondering about that," Tristan said, running his finger along the spot on Kira’s face where Diana had cut her. "There was no scratch or scar the next time I saw you. I thought Luke might have done something. I actually don’t know very much about conduits."

"I think I’m the only one who can heal things. I don’t know how I do it, it’s just sort of an instinct." They stood in silence, Kira waiting for Tristan’s inevitable question.

"So, what are you going to tell him?" Tristan asked, and Kira moved her head to look up at him, reading the vulnerability in his features. She knew what he meant, what would she tell him about them, about this conversation and the intimacy they now shared. Surely, Kira would tell him about finding Jerome and John in the woods, about the memory she recalled and how she could now control herself so much more. But what about the dance she and Tristan had shared by the lake, or the private moments they shared now, talking about the darkest parts of themselves? She couldn’t hide from Luke forever, but she wasn’t sure if she could come clean and risk losing him.

"I don’t know. I’m so sorry. I just…I don’t know how he’ll react. And I need him, he’s my only connection to the conduits, the only person I can learn from."

"It’s okay," Tristan said, but Kira saw the quick flash of hurt in his eyes—eyes so icy blue she had at first wondered if there even was emotion in there. Now she saw them differently, not icy but deep, like a pond on a calm day when the surface seems hard at first, but something as small as a pebble can drop smoothly in, destroying the semblance of steel. Kira had dropped in, broken the surface of his soul, and she didn’t know when she would reach the bottom.

Tristan cupped her cheek with his hand, staring into her eyes as well. Kira wondered what he saw there. Were her eyes a raging fire that had suddenly calmed to a flickering flame? Her heart seemed to stop as he kept looking, reading her fears and desires, her vulnerability, and the parts of her she tried to keep hidden from everyone else. Then, almost as if in slow motion, he leaned his face down to hers, letting his lips gently grace Kira’s, and the moment of calm was gone.

Her heart pounded, and she stood on her tippytoes, eagerly returning his kisses.

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

When Kira awoke on Monday morning, a knot of dread tightened her stomach—she did not want to go to school. She hadn’t seen Tristan since he had dropped her off at home on Saturday, and she had ignored Luke’s calls all weekend, completely unsure of what to tell him.

When she finally got out of bed, it took her ten minutes to brush her teeth and wash her face—staring at her hollow eyes in the mirror the entire time. The thought of Tristan made a blush rise, but that warmth was quickly pushed away, replaced by self-loathing when Luke leaked into her mind. Eventually, her mother pushed Kira into the car and actually drove her to school.

Leaving her on her own in the parking lot, her mother scolded Kira to hurry up as she was obviously late. Kira listened and ran to the safety of her class, one she shared with neither of the boys. She kept her eyes glued to the scratched hallway floor when sprinting from room to room, not daring to even chance making eye contact with either boy, and she jumped at the sound of her name a few times, only to realize she had been dreaming it.

But then, the lunch bell rang.

It was time.

Unless she decided to eat in the bathroom stall, Kira would have to face Luke and Tristan. She meandered through the halls, waiting for them to thin and for the cafeteria to crowd, hoping her entrance would go unnoticed. Finally, she couldn’t stall anymore, and Kira walked through the double doors into the chaos of lunch hour. Her eyes immediately honed in on the table outside where one lone figure sat—Tristan.

He was sprawled across the tabletop, basking in the sun with his hands crossed under his head and his foot tapping to the tune playing only in his mind. Almost immediately, he turned his face to meet Kira’s eyes. Her heart stopped, and he crinkled the corner of his mouth in a subtle greeting. Instantly, Kira flashed back to the hours they spent lying in each other’s arms on Saturday, when all conversation had ended and all there had been were feelings. She had never been kissed so passionately, yet held so gently and treated like a lady. He had respected her and let her set the pace, which yes, had ended at kissing.

Kira’s pulse started racing at the memories, switching from dread to excitement in a matter of moments. Her brain ran on overdrive, confused by the complete momentum shift that could only be caused by the delightful torment of falling in love.

She mindlessly bit her lip, hiding the grin that threatened to spread across her face and looked away first, right into the eyes of Luke. He was dodging students, weaving his way through the lunch crowd, and staring her down with a look of relief and anger. Without hesitation, he pulled her into a bear hug.

"What the hell happened to you? I thought you’d died. Why didn’t you call me back?" He set her back down, but kept his hands on her shoulders, ensuring Kira couldn’t run away.

"Nothing." Kira avoided his question when she saw the others making their way over. "We need to talk. Not here," she whispered and then shirked his hold to greet Emma, who squealed loudly and hugged Kira in a viselike grip.

"We were so worried. Oh my god. You don’t just run out of a school dance like that."

"I’m fine, I’m fine," she said when Miles and Dave leaned in to hug her as well. Jeez, she thought, they really must have been worried. "My phone died, and I completely didn’t realize it. I’m so sorry." Kira shrugged, feeling terrible.

"So what happened?" Emma asked when everyone had sat back down at the usual table. "One minute you’re dancing with Carter Evans…" Emma wiggled her eyes. "And the next you’ve disappeared."

Crap, Kira thought. She had forgotten to prepare a cover story for the rest of the gang. Eventually she would have to tell Luke the truth, but what would appease them in the meantime? Go with something gossip worthy, she thought. Emma would do all the work. "You’ll never believe it, but Carter slipped alcohol into my drink. I got totally drunk, and he started freaking out, so he just drove me home. It was insane. I mean, he always seemed like such a nice guy."

As Emma’s mouth dropped, Kira smiled to herself. Perfect.

"Oh. My. God. What a creep! I can’t believe this. That must be why he gets so many girls. He totally tried to date-rape you."

Okay, maybe too far, Kira thought, and interrupted to rein Emma in. "No, no. I think I just didn’t realize. Someone else could have spiked the punch, I guess. I mean, he drove me home. That was nice."

"Drove you home after he drugged you!" Emma looked over at Carter, shooting daggers across the room with her evil eye. Carter actually seemed to sense it, because he looked over and quickly sank down into the sea of letterman jackets that composed the football team’s lunch table. "Yeah, that’s right. Hide."

"Emma." Kira grabbed her friend’s arm, forcing her around. "Seriously, it was no big deal. I just went home. I don’t even blame him." Woman scorned, Kira thought with a mental shrug.

"So, where were you Saturday?" Luke interrupted.

"Yeah, what did happen?" Emma let Carter go and turned her attention to the bigger mystery.

"What do you mean?" Kira stared down at her sandwich, taking it out of the Ziploc bag she had packed it in that morning and pointedly ignoring her friends.

"I called you on Saturday, and you never picked up. It rang, by the way, which is unusual for a