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Sergey wanted to kill Lucian when he was pulled out of the ground but Tristan had convinced him to put him on trial instead. To do things the democratic way. It was a bone of contention since Tristan had already killed Adrian Constantin for fucking with his life so Sergey and Tristan had gotten heated about it. In the end, Sergey had agreed, the day before they opened the crypt, to see about doing things in a just and fair way. And that was part of why Tristan had relented with Kyla about Jackson and about not putting people, as much as they might deserve it, into the pits with two hungry vampires who hadn’t eaten in decades.
Esther, the housekeeper, was now a vampire, and also on Sasha’s serum. She’d experienced reverse aging and was working to help run the housekeeping and management of The Constantin Center. She’d filled in a lot of the blanks about her twenty odd years of service to Alexander Kovac. She’d be testifying in court to some of those events, including events related to Lucian Kovac, when that time came.
Tristan and Kyla started renovating the home next to Sasha’s home on the pacific island. They also travelled back and forth to Toronto for meetings related to Kovac, as well as to Arizona where things were happening. They were busy. Kovac had been reorganized somewhat. Tristan had recruited some turned vampires with excellent resumes. Things were looking good.Two Months LaterKyla got her period again. She’d skipped it the previous month but hadn’t got a positive on a pregnancy test and she was, to put it mildly, Hell. On. Wheels.
Tristan was still working hard at helping to establish the new world of vampire councils.
He was also working hard to deal with Kyla, tolerate her temper tantrums as well as deal with her insatiable sex drive. He’d told her that he hadn’t sensed ovulation so she didn’t know if his senses regarding that bodily function hadn’t come back, or if she wasn’t ovulating for some reason. She was worried about it, obsessive about it. But she was biologically driven to feed and have sex.
Tristan thought life was pretty damn good.Three Months Later“We’re gonna be late, princess!” Tristan had called.
“I’m done, I’m done!” Kyla got to the bottom of the stairs, thinking they were leaving hella early to go to dinner. It was just past lunch time!
They were going for a boat ride. She had been excited about it. They were at their place on the island, which was starting to look and seriously feel like home but Tristan had told her to dress up for this date, that they were taking a boat ride and going out for dinner.
Dinner. In a public place. She was stoked.
Tristan was still very protective but the fact that she was seriously strong helped. Feeding several times a day helped her become very strong, as was evidenced in a recent argument where she lost it on him, he’d hauled her over his knee, spanked her and told her that he was gonna spank her until he flipped her brat switch off. Kyla had gotten very angry and held her own during a wrestling match with him, and then pissed off turned to very horny, with Kyla fighting her way to be on top during sex and they’d both gotten off on that so much that she knew he knew she was badass enough to handle a lot thrown at her. It definitely helped that in addition to knowing she was gaining strength as the days went by that any vamp who dared to try to drink her blood would become violently ill and ill enough to give Kyla an advantage to end the vamp or get away.
She wore a red chiffon swing style dress that she’d bought on a shopping trip a few days back with Sasha. It was feminine and sassy, and Tristan’s favourite colour.
Tristan had gone on the trip, too, but had gone into Seattle for a meeting while Kyla and Sasha shopped. Her vampress escort, the dagger in the holster under her sundress, and her emerging bad assed-ness had given him the confidence necessary to be apart in public. It was a huge step in getting over what she figured was a bit like post-traumatic stress disorder that made him extremely protective. But he probably always would be, despite her emerging bad-assedness.
She’d gone for a trim and had taken about 12 inches off her hair. That was something Tristan hadn’t been too happy about.
She still had oodles of hair; it was still past her shoulders, but he had a little bit of a prick switch flipped about it. He got over it in about a day. The three blowjobs probably helped.He was dressed up, too. He looked delicious in a black suit with a dark blue dress shirt, no tie, his eyes standing out like always, piercing, beautiful.
