Page 11

Ten

Precious Memories

M erissa was staring down at him with wide, shock-filled eyes. It was obviously a reaction to something else entirely.

“You have superpowers,” she whispered.

Tristan’s heart skipped a beat. She made it sound like his powers weren’t part of the curse at all.

Maybe they were; Merissa must be simply unaware of it.

Tristan had a feeling that she wasn’t supposed to find out about his powers. The look on her face was so unreadable that he couldn’t tell if her shock was awe-filled or otherwise.

A murmur broke out among her witch friends. “Powers?” they hissed furiously. “What kind of powers?”

“I-I’m not certain,” Merissa stuttered.

“But you cursed him,” said one of the women. “Were powers supposed to be a part of it?”

“N-no,” Merissa said, her fingers trembling.

“Merissa, what do you mean by powers ? Did you accidentally transfer some of your powers to him when you cursed him?”

Tristan barely withheld a scoff. What was he now? Harry Potter?

Merissa composed herself, finally looked away from Tristan, and turned to her friends, who had a sharp look in their eyes. “No, the powers he has are nothing like I’ve seen or known before, but I have a feeling that—” She stopped short, gulped soundly, and changed the track. “We should skim through his memories to find out more about it.”

“What?” Tristan exclaimed. She had to be joking.

“I agree,” said one of the men. The rest nodded in agreement.

Tristan pushed himself back to his feet and glared at Merissa. “I’m here to break my curse, not to perform as your experiment, Merissa.”

As soon as he spoke those words, he realized that was exactly what he was going to be. Merissa and her friends were power-hungry scum. What else would explain their disdain upon hearing he had superpowers? They wanted to learn where he got his powers from.

“I got my powers from the countless lightning strikes I’ve had,” Tristan blurted out. If they wanted to have powers like him, they should curse each other like Merissa cursed him and take every lightning strike upon themselves.

Power-hungry monsters didn’t just exist in his books, after all.

Merissa’s eyes narrowed on him for the first time since they met. “I’m not a fool to believe that.”

Tristan scoffed. “So, you’re saying I’m actually a supernatural person? Without the curse I’m bearing? I’m not a fool to believe that .”

“We are about to find out the truth.” Merissa nodded at her friends and they formed a circle outside the one Tristan was in.

“You know what? I’d rather not know. Why don’t you just get on with the curse-lifting?” If you’re even planning on doing that.

Had this been a trap since the beginning? Had he walked into his own doom?

Before Tristan could even consider teleporting away, a sudden, sharp pain shot through his skull. He gasped and grabbed his head before sinking to the ground. His first impression had been that someone had hit him, but as he peered around, he saw that Merissa and her friends were holding hands and chanting in a strange language, their eyes closed.

Another pain shot through, and he groaned, closing his eyes. Small, white specks flew around his mind; he saw Alexa’s face in every one of them as they passed through the forefront. His memories. Without another thought, he reached into one of them.

He didn’t know how he did it, but the next moment, a white fog obscured his senses, and he was in the memory.

* * *

Tristan closed his laptop after the video call with his boss. Unlike the other times they discussed Tristan’s next project for Canfield Enterprises, today, the man was light-hearted. Every other time, since the first day Tristan was hired, he had been reserved and entirely businesslike.

Whatever—or whoever—lightened him up deserved a medal.

Just like the girl who was slowly prodding Tristan out of his own shell. And she deserved more than just a gold medal. She deserved the world itself.

Tristan smiled at the thought of her and stood from his chair. He hadn’t checked in on her today—a result of him trying to lessen the time he spent shadowing her footsteps, which was harder than it sounded like. He glanced at his watch—7:55 pm—and teleported to her balcony; it was where he usually landed.

Tristan stumbled back the moment his gravity was restored. His breath hitched. Goodness, he had nearly teleported on her. Rather, her writing desk.

And thank goodness he never went to see her without turning on his invisibility.

Alexa had dragged her writing desk and chair to the balcony today. She was doing her homework. Her long, straight hair was wet from the shower and spilled to either side of her face as she hovered over her books and scribbled into her notebook.

Tristan stared at her, his heart racing nonsensically. They were so close; she was right in front of him. If he reached out, he could touch her. Yet, she seemed like a million miles away.

She was everything he desired, and the one thing he couldn’t have.

His heartstrings tightened. How long did he plan on carrying this torture on himself? It hadn’t felt this powerful before, but after that night he comforted her in her sleep, his little obsession had turned into downright torture.

A kind of torture he took pleasure in.

Better to stay close to her and not have her than stay away and not have her all the same.

Tristan was rooted to his spot, unmoving as he watched her. And darn it, he felt like a total creep. He knew it was utterly selfish of him to keep coming to see her, but he was also looking out for her, wasn’t he?

And yet it was selfish, creepy, and ungentlemanly of him.

Maybe he should stay away. Without a single visit. For some time.

The wind bustled around them, and he caught a whiff of her perfume. Citrus. Tristan closed his eyes and inhaled the air. Oh, boy. She smelled so good.

When he opened his eyes, he saw her face tipped up to the wind and her eyes closed. She looked relaxed as the wind brushed her face, sending the whips of hair flying back. Then, without warning, she inhaled. Once, then twice. Deeply. A pleasant expression broke into her face. She wasn’t smiling, but she could as well have been from the light in her eyes when she opened them.

Tristan hoped she’d caught on to his scent.

Alexa closed her eyes again and exposed her face to the cool night wind a moment longer before she went back to her homework.

Tristan felt like he was losing his mind the longer he stayed in such proximity to her, yet he didn’t make a move to leave. Then, as he watched, her pen ran out of ink.

Alexa searched her pouch for another. Not finding one, she got up and moved into her room to search in her drawers. She gave up and walked out of her room.

“Cass, I’ve run out of pens! Can I borrow one?”

Tristan smiled fondly at those words. If one of his cousins were in her place, they’d have taken their sibling’s pen without bothering to ask and then started a fight when said sibling found out. However, Alexa’s relationship with her sister was admirable and unique.

Shaking his head, he teleported back to his room and opened one of his drawers. Tristan barely needed pens, but when he did buy them, he was extremely selective of their style. He found the one he was looking for, dark silver and his favorite so far, and teleported to Alexa’s balcony.

Relieved that she wasn’t back yet, he set the pen on her open notebook. Alexa reentered the room in the next moment, a pen similar to the one she’d been using in her hand. Tristan backed against the railing and held his breath as she reached the desk and did a double take at Tristan’s pen.

She snatched it and stared at it in awe before a slow grin pulled at her lips. She looked over her shoulder and called out, “Thanks, sis!”

“For a pen?” Cassie’s voice called back with a laugh. “Fine. You’re welcome.”

Alexa slid back into the chair and continued her homework with her new pen—Tristan’s pen.

Tristan looked at her one last time before teleporting back to his room to paint the most beautiful sight he had committed to memory.

Her smile was worth billions. He couldn’t have wished for a better reward.

* * *

Tristan felt a shift in the air, and he was jerked back to reality. The pain in his head was hot and blinding, and the white specks of memories were still flying around his mind.

All his favorite memories. He caught glimpses of each of them.

He was listening to Alexa sing ‘A Thousand Years’ in her room. It felt like she was singing it for him, every line spoken to his thirsty soul.

He was attending church just to listen to Alexa sing like he did every Sunday. Today, unlike his previous visits, he was visible—followed by a strange urge. The service was over; he knew he should be leaving, but he couldn’t move. He was watching her talking with her sister, her sister’s boyfriend, and her sister’s best friend. Then, without warning, her hazel eyes fell on him. They locked with his blue ones, and his heart galloped like a wild horse. Tristan had never felt seen before.

She was heading to the bookstore. She’d just broken things off with Jude, and he wanted to make sure she was alright. He wanted to cheer her up. He felt like he had the courage to reveal himself to her now. But then she recognized him as the same guy from church and accused him of stalking her, and he lied to her helplessly that they met by mere coincidence. Then he nearly tipped himself off as a ‘stalker’ when she said she didn’t used to like the name ‘Alex.’ He almost asked her if it was because the name was the male version of hers, before he turned his question into, “Because of Alexander the Great?” She wasn’t supposed to know that he knew her name, but by the end, the reckless part of him couldn’t help but leave a note with her name in it.

He was writing the warning note to the girl who bullied Alexa, in a different handwriting from his real one, so that Alexa wouldn’t know the mysterious guy she was ‘enchanted to meet’ was the Lightning Knight who was going to defend her.

He had just got back from his cousin’s house and headed straight to Alexa’s house to check in on her; she had been in a bad state since Brandon blackmailed her. Her room was empty, but Tristan’s eyes fell on the note on her bed. Thanks to his supernatural eyesight, even from her balcony, he was able to read what she had written on it. It said she was going to the stone bridge, so he teleported there.

The moment his eyes found her, every rational thought left his mind. She was crouched on the railing of the bridge one moment, and in the next, she had leaped. Tristan felt like his very world fell with her. And then he was teleporting to mid-air, catching her, and teleporting back. Relief and fury like never before claimed him. He wanted to teleport to where Brandon was and kill him with his bare hands. But instead, he decided Alexa needed him. He took her to the carnival. The light in her eyes, her timid smile, and at last, her laughs as they rode the bumper cars, were his reward. He had never felt so alive before. Then he was dropping her off at her house. She said she’d like to see him again. It was the final blow to Tristan’s already weakening resolve.

The memories began to move faster now. Tristan caught only flashes of them, but Alexa had been in every one of them. A smile there, a laugh here, their first kiss…

He pitched forward suddenly, gasping as though the air had finally returned to his lungs. He became hyper-aware of his surroundings; he was back to reality. He touched his forehead to the floor and panted until his breath came evenly, and pushed his hands against the ground to brace himself to get up.

The chanting had died. A deep silence was over the room. The pain vanished from his skull.

Tristan lifted his head and looked through the sweat-slick hair that had fallen over his eyes. Merissa and her friends were looking at each other with wide-eyed expressions.

“Are you done yet?” Tristan grunted. “Or are you going to use me as one of your puppets now that you have discovered every one of my powers?”

Merissa met his gaze, and the fear-mingled, disbelieving look on her face was swapped with a sneer. “We have no business with the Higher Power. It is for those who are weak, like yourself, nephew.”

Her words made no sense. “Higher Power?”

Merissa rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “You have no idea, do you?”

“How could he?” one of them scoffed. “The boy clearly doesn’t believe. You saw it in his memory.”

“What are you talking about?” Tristan demanded with what little strength he had.

But no one was listening to him. Merissa’s friends were looking at her, and she looked at him.

“We shouldn’t delay this, Merissa,” said one of the women.

“I agree. Let’s finish the ritual,” said another.

Tristan shifted his eyes from Merissa to Jude, who stood at the back of the room. Jude averted his gaze. That was all Tristan needed to confirm his thoughts.

He hadn’t trusted Jude for one second, but at that moment, he realized he had been betrayed. This had been a trap all along.

Just then, one of them announced, “It’s time for your revenge, Merissa.”