Soldier's Coin: Tristan's Bounty

Chapter1

Tristan

Tristan shuffled into the motel room, tossing the keys on the small desk and his saddle bag on the bed as he continued to the bathroom. He thought it was funny that he'd traveled so far out of any familiar civilization that they actually used keys in their motels. Although, he was grateful that this one had running water and electric that he planned to take full advantage of.

This was the first time he had stopped moving in a few weeks, taking naps here and there and then continuing on. He was looking, searching, chasing. At first it all made sense to him, but he quickly realized he was just running.

He was exhausted as he started a hot shower. After a few clunks from the pipes, the lukewarm water sprayed out from a pan above him with holes poked in it. He stepped into the small plastic basin and let the water rush over his face. He really couldn't complain, this was the first shower he'd had in a long time and anything was better than nothing.

After washing up with a ball of soap made from mismatched pieces of other soaps, Tristan made the mistake of looking at himself in the mirror. It made him pause. He didn't recognize himself at all. His medium brown hair had reached just past his shoulders and his darker brown beard was getting thick and long, brushing the top of his chest. His eyes looked haunted and old, and he wondered if he would ever find what he was looking for, or if he still wanted what he was looking for. His studying of the unfamiliar face was gratefully interrupted by the smell of sulphur.

As much as he wanted to be alone, a smile fell on his face with the recognition of his sister. He left the bathroom to find Celia wringing her hands as she stood in front of the door. He hated that he worried her the way he did. Before Tristan could say a word, Celia began scolding him.

"Where have you been? Why are you so far away? And why aren't you locking your doors?" She asked all at once and Tristan smiled. He had missed her. She always changed the room she was in and he was so happy to see her familiar face.

"It's good to see you too, Celia. How are my nieces?" He said, turning the corner of his mouth up and completely dismissing her concerns. Tristan walked over to the small bag he had thrown on the bed, and retrieved a bottle of dark amber liquid. He plopped onto the bed with his back to her and pulled the cork out of the bottle with his teeth. The glass bottle hit his lips, and the rooty, bitter liquid poured down his throat before he held onto a mouthful.

As soon as the bottle was out of his view, Celia stood in front of him. He swallowed, and she took the bottle from him. She put it on the nightstand and placed her hands on her hips.

"When are you coming home?" She asked with irritation, but Tristan smiled.

"Soon." He said comfortingly and reached for the bottle again. Celia stopped him gently as she sat next to him on the bed between him and the bottle.

"You said that six months ago, Tristan. Please come home. We miss you. I miss you. The girls miss you. You belong with your pack. Please." She pleaded desperately, and it tugged at him.

He didn't know exactly why he hadn't gone back. He had given up on finding his mate, but he didn't know what else to do with himself. He wasn't Commander anymore and, aside from Celia and the girls, he felt like there was nothing left at Shadowpack for him.

"Soon. I promise." He tried to sound convincing, but he saw her break a little. She knew he had no plans. Celia grabbed his hands in hers, trying to chastise him gently.

"We both know that you're not in a good place when you're lying to me. That's only one step away from lying to yourself." She smiled gently, but Tristan looked away from her. "You already are." She spoke sadly, and she stood up. Tristan hated the way it sounded and he hated the pity in her eyes, but he didn't know how to fix it. Celia placed a thick, white envelope on the table next to the bottle of scotch. "Commander Jackson is having a celebration at Opulence this weekend. He would like you there. We all would. I better get back. Blaise doesn't like it when I teleport without letting him know." Celia cupped his cheek, making him look up at her. "Please, think about it." Tristan kissed the palm of her hand and he tried to give her a smile. The longer he was near her, the harder it was to hold in how he felt.

"I promise I will." He told her, but it came out in a painful whisper. Celia gave him a comforting smile and suddenly broke up into pieces that evaporated into smoke, leaving behind the smell of sulphur.

Tristan reached for the bottle again, spilling the envelope and its contents on the wooden floor. As soon as he saw the several bills peeking out, he picked it up and thumbed through it. There was five thousand dollars in it along with a plane ticket. He smiled as he guzzled down more scotch and shook his head. It amused him that she even managed to find the nearest airport to him. It was still another day's ride away, but it would give him something to take his mind off of his own worries. Besides, he was sure that this would be his last visit to Shadowpack. He didn't belong there, at least he couldn't see it. So, determined to make one last trip, he finished the bottle before passing out.