Sacred Blood

  A throng of excited tourists huddled close to a sidewalk cafe to watch the filming of a scene from a television show. A couple of college-aged women at the back of the group started looking around and spotted Tristan. They nudged each other, rapidly whispering behind their hand. The taller of the two, deeply tanned with bleached hair past her shoulders, sauntered over to him in what he guessed to be her poor attempt at a seductive walk. Her tiny bikini and sarong bordered on public indecency.

  "Howdy, cowboy," she greeted him in a southern drawl he hadn't expected. "I'm Shannon."

  He flashed her a quick half-smile in greeting and turned away.

  Shannon propped a hand on her hip. "Have I seen you somewhere before?"

  "I don’t know if you have. I do know we've never met."

  She gave him a slow look head to toe, appraising him closely. "Well I think I can fix our little problem, if you'd like to meet me at my hotel."

  "Sorry, I'm…seeing someone." Tristan sighed and wanted the fib to be true.

  Shannon tossed a glance back toward her friend, who nearly skipped to her side. "Well, can Megan and I together intere--"

  "No," Tristan interrupted. "I'm not interested."

  "But--"

  "I said no." He didn't wait for an answer, but continued his brisk walk down the hill toward the pier, pausing momentarily to read a sign stabbed into the sand about fossil fuels and the end of the planet being nigh. Even when he was a child, people had been warning others that the world's demise would happen soon.

  A sigh escaped his lips. Without Juliette, the pier wasn’t inviting. Too many other couples happily lounged or walked around. So he changed his direction and headed to the beach.

  In its own way, the hustle and bustle, the random music, and artists selling wares to passers-by, reminded Tristan of the tourist trap in San Francisco, Pier 39, which unofficially included a much larger area. The City by the Bay was usually colder though, and days by the sea could never be relied upon to stay warm from one minute to the next. Tristan wanted to show her that beautiful city. Most of the places he longed to take her he couldn't - even as a friend - as long as she stuck with someone else. Romantic destinations had to remain off limits while she was Nathaniel’s girlfriend.

  His head started throbbing in a tangle of thoughts. Nathaniel's girlfriend? He didn't have to enter Juliette’s home to realize no relationship of mutual care and respect existed between them. Nathaniel kept Juliette as a frightened pet. She was an outlet to him, a target for his temper. Nathaniel wasn't a man. Men don't need a victim to control and bully and push around. Nathaniel was a first-string linebacker on the school team. Wasn't that enough for him?

  Juliette was so new to Tristan’s life. How had she already captured him? Was he confusing a feeling of protectiveness with infatuation? The thought of pushing her firmly into platonic friendship played tug-of-war with his desire to pull her closer.

  On the sand, not too far from Tristan, a young woman with flowing light brown hair sat next to her partner. He pointed something out to her. The waves crashed onshore in the direction the man gestured. The woman laughed loudly and gazed up and the sun-blonde man beside her with a smile wide enough to show two rows of bright teeth. Contentment, trust, and love reflected on her face. Briefly she shot a glance over to Tristan and for the quickest of moments their eyes locked. Tristan gave a quick smile and looked away, embarrassed to have been caught staring at strangers.

  A wish filled him for Juliette to look like that one day, carefree and happy, assured of safety and of being loved, not constantly expecting something bad to happen. Tristan longed to be the one to give her happiness, but he wouldn’t drag her around the world with him in a never-ending quest to keep his true self hidden. Resenting what he was, Tristan dug his short nails into his palm and stormed back to his car, impervious to the joyful atmosphere affecting everyone around him.

  Tristan nosed his Bentley into traffic and drove, slower and safer than he had before, unconsciously taking the most direct route to Nathaniel's house. He slowed down a few houses over.

  Tristan considered knocking on her door, but a gunmetal Altima was parked in the driveway. He didn't want to put her on the spot if she had company, nor risk the possibility that one of Nathaniel’s friends was checking on her. His phone call went right to her voicemail. With some small measure of relief that she wouldn't be hurt until Nathaniel returned, he tapped out a text message to her and headed home.

  * * *

  Juliette still didn't understand. Tristan's care and concern were distressing and made her question Nathaniel.

  "Jules, come on, tell me why you're scowling." Libby Collins hit the pause button, freezing the DVD at the moment when Eddie Murphy's expression was at its least attractive.

  "Does Nathaniel care about me?"

  "Um…"

  "What are your thoughts of him?"

  "He's freakin’ hot, and most girls think they'd be lucky to date him, but they don’t know he's overbearing and rude and he's a jerk. Why you asking?"

  "Just asking." Juliette hesitated before another question. "Are you familiar with Tristan Larocque?"

  Libby leaned back into the cushions of the couch and smiled, twisting some of her coarse hair around her finger while trying to stifle a grin. "Who isn't? Now that guy's super hot! He's sweet too. Such old-fashioned manners! His accent is sexy the way it's kind of subtle. Like it's there, but not so heavy he's hard to understand. What is he, French? I hear he's a stallion in the sack. Alex hasn't shut up about last spring. She thinks they're going to get back together."

  "Your sister? They were dating?" Juliette shifted in her seat to conceal her interest.

  Libby shrugged. "Eh, it was a short thing. If he's hooked up with anyone since last year, somehow it’s been kept on the down-low. She's seen nothing, but she's watching and trying to get with him again. Who can blame her? Hot, smart, rich, sweet as sin on a Sunday…but she said he claimed a vow of celibacy until he gets hitched because he hurt her when he dumped her, and he hasn't been dating. What’s up with him? Is he in the mafia? Think he's gay?"

  "Definitely not!" Juliette turned her face away attempting to hide her smile and reddening cheeks. "Oh no, he's not into guys. I don’t know where the money comes from, but he’s not the maf--"

  Libby's big brown eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Wait! Have you…have you and he…!"

  "No, Libby, and if what you're blabbering about is whether we've…been intimate…then the answer is no! No no no!" She pursed her lips to hold in an embarrassed smile.

  "How do you know then he’s not batting for the other team? Spill, girl! Tell me please?" Libby bounced up and down like a child waiting for an early Christmas present.

  Juliette held her hands up. "Calm down and I will! I know because --” A bell interrupted her. “Wait a sec. Pizza's done."

  Libby followed her into the spacious kitchen, grabbed the potholders off the counter and handed one to Juliette. Together they eased the pizza stone out of the oven enough to slide the pie onto a cutting block to cut into slices.

  "So?"

  "We've…well, we've kissed. He didn't pull away."

  "Nate doesn't know?"

  "He hasn't been home yet. If he found out, I'd probably be dead right now."

  Libby shivered. "Juliette, why are you with him?"

  Juliette sat on the couch and took a bite of the steaming pizza, burning her mouth. "One sec!"

  Again with that question. Two people now!

  She ran back to the kitchen for some ice, and grabbed a couple glasses and a bottle of wine to go with their dinner. Needing a moment to collect herself, she sat the items on the counter and leaned against it, eyes shut tight.

  "Hey, you okay?" Libby stood in the entryway.

  With a slow shake of her head, Juliette told her, "I needed a minute is all. Um, I'm with Nathaniel because I owe it to him to stay."

  "He doesn't treat you well, and don't give me tripe about how you fell and hit your eye
, walked into a door, or another textbook excuse for your injuries. Why won’t you admit what’s really going on? I already know. He's bad for you, and you shouldn't put up with his treatment toward you."

  "You don't understand, Lib. If I don't stay with him, he'll kill me or himself. He told me! I couldn’t handle that being my fault."

  "Only a jerk would threaten, Jules!" Libby followed Juliette back into the living room. "I've figured it all out. The eye wasn't you falling down the stairs! You always wear long sleeves, even with the weather is sweltering. I know you’re hiding bruises. This didn’t start until you moved in with him when you should have moved in with me and Mama. You need to get out of here before he does kill you."

  "I'm staying. Case closed. So how 'bout them Dodgers?" Juliette dropped her pizza on her plate and set it aside.

  "Not much happens in Spring Training, and they’re not going to do as well as you dodging my questions." Libby popped the wine cork and filled their glasses. "Juliette, why? He's not worth it."

  Juliette held her hand up. "The case is closed! We're not discussing Nathaniel anymore! I'm fine! Next topic?"

  Libby sighed, defeated. "Um, so tell me more about Tristan's kiss."

  "Libby!" Juliette started laughing. "I can't! I shouldn't even have done it!"

  Libby stared, now grinning broadly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Well, at least describe how his lips felt! Did he initiate?"

  "Come on, that's telling!"

  "No, you come on! Please? Pretty please?"

  Juliette sipped her wine and sighed. "Fine! Okay, so we went to Griffith Observatory and it was dark--"

  "Why were you with him? At night it's romantic!"

  "I needed someone to talk to, and that’s where he drove. Anyway, I was a fool and told him to kiss me. I started it. We were getting into it, but then -"

  "What were his lips like? Did he taste chocolatey? Minty?"

  "Will you stop interrupting? They were soft, and warm, and oh my god! I can’t put more into words. Apple Jolly Ranchers. He tasted like that.”

  Libby stared, impatient. "Yum! What happened next?"

  "He pulled away, Lib. He said I needed a friend, not a, what did he call it? I think he called himself a complication. He knows I'm with Nathaniel." Juliette swallowed hard, biting her lips together.

  "That…he sounds sweet, Jules."

  "He truly is, and if I wasn't with Nathaniel, I might actually think about going for him. Being near him gives me butterflies, and he won’t hurt me."

  Libby stared hard at her friend. "You're safe with Tristan, and scared Nate will kill you. Why in God's name are you with Nate?"

  Juliette pressed the play button and resumed the movie. The voices of "Prince Akeem" and "Semmi" blasted from the surround sound system. "It is what it is, Lib, and I'm stuck. Maybe one day Nathaniel will decide he wants someone new, or he’ll stop getting mad at me all the time."

  "He already screws anyone willing or drunk sometimes with dubious consent, so what else is he looking for? He doesn't love you."

  Juliette shrugged in response.

  "You have Tristan's interest, and he's a great guy. Even Alex says so, even though their break-up wasn’t great."

  "Libby, I don't want to talk about Tristan and Nathaniel anymore, okay? Nathaniel gets back here sooner than I would like him to. I want to forget him and Tristan both, at least for tonight, and relax."

  On the end table Juliette’s phone lit up. She grabbed it. The first message was from Nathaniel.

  Are you behaving?

  She shuddered. Then her eyebrows rose in surprise to having one from Tristan. She touched his name to open.

  You have a friend who cares. If you need anything, let me know.

  Juliette shielded her eyes from Libby. Her throat tightened. She wouldn’t be able to forget.

  * * *

  Long after laying down in bed, she stared at the ceiling and listened to her favorite playlist of R&B music. She felt silly letting herself have a high-school night in her pajamas with ice cream, but the melodies soothed her into a fantasy. Nathaniel had disappeared into the magical abyss of non-existence, and she and Tristan ran through a warm forest in the fall, flowing fabric of a long white dress billowing behind her. He swept her up in his arms and kissed her gently.

  Juliette’s face warmed. She tried to contain a smile, allowing the dream to continue further. Her eyelids closed, and she swayed her head in time to the beat of a sensual song. If only she could make a wish and blow out the candle light.

  Her hand groped her nightstand for a candy bar she had placed there earlier and she peeled the wrapper back to take bite. Another song started and her foot tapped the air in time to the melody. Tears stung her eyes as she imagined Tristan saying the words to her, knowing she could trust him to mean them. His arms wouldn't let her heart break…

  5. Beginnings

  An early knock woke Juliette with a start. She glanced at her clock, swore and grabbed a robe to check who would be knocking at 7:30 on a Thursday morning.

  A knock rattled again. Her eyes were still unfocused when she reached for, and turned, the handle, then gasped.

  "Tristan! What are you doing here?" Heat rose to her cheeks.

  Early morning sunlight lightened his dark hair and highlighted his jaw and playful smile. "I’m heading to Santa Monica and am hoping you’d like to join me if you don’t have other plans."

  She vainly tried flattening her tresses. "Shower? Put on some clothes? Wake up fully?"

  He turned, still grinning. "Ah. I'll be on my way."

  "Tristan!" Juliette laughed, grabbing for his arm. "Come back here. Wait inside while I get ready."

  Tristan walked through the door and whistled at the sight of the massive television. "Is he compensating for something?"

  Juliette pressed her hand to her mouth, her crystal eyes shining. "I don't know. Probably. Enjoy figuring out the remotes. I will be back down as quick as I can."

  Juliette ran upstairs and grabbed her favorite yellow and white sundress and pale lemon cardigan. She hurried to the bathroom, sped her way through a shower and shave, and brushed her hair. Carefully she applied her makeup to conceal the remains of her bruise, and put on her dress. After grabbing a pair of sandals and her purse, Juliette headed back downstairs to the kitchen. An orange ended up in her bag and she bit into an apple, tossing another to Tristan.

  "I'm ready. I have art appreciation at three, but screw it. I’ll blow off Marsh's class too." Juliette took second bite.

  "Well, I won't complain. I think he's mistaken us for high-schoolers."

  "I agree. Shall we head on out?"

  Juliette let Tristan lead the way to his car, where he held the passenger door for her.

  "You are so old-fashioned. I like your manners."

  "I'm glad," he replied while buckling his seat belt, "because not doing certain things wouldn’t sit right with me."

  "You have an appreciative recipient!"

  Tristan turned on the stereo. "Do you listen to rap?"

  Juliette wrinkled her nose. "No."

  "Oldies? Classic rock? Country?"

  "Whatever non-political morning talk show is on is okay with me. I wish Mark and Brian were still on."

  “I agree. They were fun. Not many talk shows last almost twenty-six years.” Tristan found a program for them to listen to. On the drive through rush hour traffic, they interacted with the hosts, answering trivia questions and laughing.

  Tristan parked in the same spot as the day before. The air was still cool, though the warm breezes let them know they were in for a fiercely hot afternoon. Tristan brushed a lock of her hair over her shoulder and walked beside her down the hill.

  "Have you ever surfed before?" he asked her.

  "No, but I've always wanted to. What about you?"

  "Not yet! Perfect time to learn." He led the way to a surf rental shop on the ocean front, and a knowledgeable clerk helped them pick out the best wetsuits and boards. Tristan handed ove
r a credit card and asked if she knew any available instructors.

  "Well, my brother teaches. I’ll find out if he's got the morning free," the young woman told him.

  "Excellent," Tristan said. "I'll be glad to pay his rates and some extra for the last minute request."

  Juliette stepped out of the fitting room wearing her new wetsuit, her arms wrapped around herself. “I’m almost naked in this.”

  “You have more skin covered now than in your dress.”

  “I know, but still.” She smiled at him, suppressing an embarrassed chuckle.

  Tristan and Juliette took their boards and dropped their clothing and personal items off at the car. He put the key on a lanyard around his neck, and they sat on the sand to wait for the instructor.

  “Would you tell me something, Juliette?” Tristan stared out toward the crashing waves.

  Juliette shrugged. “I’m pretty open. What do you want know?”

  “I’m surprised Nate lets you even go to school. I’m relieved he does, but what’s his deal?”

  Juliette dug her fingers through the warm sand. “Well, like I told you, keeping an eye on me is easier when I’m near him. He’s really the one who got them to let me go to college after I finished high school. He’s popular and a lot of his pals are willing to spy on me. I can’t even be sure none of them are around here right now.”

  “What was the deal with his aunt and uncle?”

  “I don’t know. Susan and Paul are well off, and other foster kids they didn’t keep longer than a few weeks. They had me six years. They didn’t need the money, and they weren’t loving people. I don’t know why they bothered at all. They were very creepy, never talked to us much, and wouldn’t let us do many extra-curricular activities. I tried to take care of the other girls when they had some. They wouldn’t take in boys, ever. One day while I was fifteen, they said they were going to send me back, at least until Nathaniel started getting interested in me.”