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lessons Cam promised him not only taught him a lot, but usually led to more enjoyable activities. When he stopped to think about it, Tristan realized he was happier than he'd ever been. He had real friends, he could use his abilities freely, and he had a lover he cared about. Watching Cam sleep in his bed, Tristan thought he might be falling in love. It was a heady feeling. The only problem was he wasn't sure how Cam felt about him. Sometimes Tristan was convinced Cam cared about him as much as he cared about Cam. Other times he couldn't be sure. The sex was phenomenal. Tristan had never felt physically closer to anyone, or more satisfied. The emotional aspect was another story. Lately, Cam always seemed to have an excuse to leave instead of staying all night. His being here now was nice. Tristan missed falling asleep with Cam. When they first got together, Cam hadn't had a problem staying the night. Maybe there was more to it than Tristan knew. He frowned and rolled to his back. He hadn't stopped to think about it until now, but Cam hadn't told him anything about his past. Tristan had told Cam about his mother's death, and small details about his life and previous jobs. Cam knew Tristan had spent his life running, and was glad to finally be able to settle down. Tristan knew nothing about Cam. Not his favorite color, what his childhood had been like, or how he'd come to the Institute. Sure, he knew a few things about sports Cam liked, and TV shows, and stuff like that, but he hardly considered those things to be important. How could they have gotten this far without Cam telling him at least a little about his life? There wasn't any point in stressing out over it right now. He needed to get some sleep. Maybe he could ask Cam a few questions in the morning. * * * * In the morning, Tristan woke to find the bed empty. A slip of paper lay on Cam's pillow. He picked it up and read it aloud. "Tris--Had something to take care of this morning before work, but you looked so peaceful I didn't want to wake you. See you at training. C." Although Tristan tried to be happy Cam had left a note instead of just leaving, he couldn't. He stared at the paper for several minutes, wondering if it meant something more than he wanted to see. The loud blare of his alarm pulled him out of his dark thoughts. Tristan slapped the off button to silence the annoying sound. He dressed quickly and headed to the kitchen for a fast breakfast. Twenty minutes later, teeth brushed and all necessities taken care of, Tristan left his apartment. He wasn't scheduled to work at the infirmary, so he walked toward the training area. He would be taking the final tests soon, and he wanted to make sure he was ready. On the way, he ran into Spoons. He smiled at the big man. "Good morning." Spoons smiled. "Hey, Doc. Think you're ready for the firearms test?" That was the longest speech Tristan had heard from Spoons. He grinned. "If not, it's not your fault." Spoons gave him a doubtful look. "Maybe we should review this morning." Tristan laughed. "Good idea." He turned toward the firing range, Spoons trailing behind him. * * * * Tristan sighed. It was six o'clock, and he was tired from a whole day of reviewing every single thing he'd learned--or at least that was how it seemed. Dixon kept drilling him on the same things over and over, maybe to help him remember them, or maybe to try and trip him up. He wasn't quite sure. She was a tough taskmaster, but she loved to tease him, too. She rapped his knuckles with the stack of flash cards she held. "Pay attention, Doc. This is going to be on the test." He groaned. Before he could voice a complaint, the door burst open and slammed into the opposite wall. A big man in a black suit rushed in, raised a weapon, and fired. Dixon fell to the floor. Tristan stifled his instinctive panic. His only concern should be to get to Dixon. Everything else was secondary. A large hand around his upper arm stopped his attempt to move to Dixon's side. The suited man yanked Tristan back against his chest and wound a thick arm around his neck. Low and guttural, the man growled, "You're coming with me, Dr. Matheson." How had they found him? Had his presence brought them to the Institute? He couldn't let the innocent people here be hurt. Desperate, he made a choking sound and went limp. His attacker fell for the move, loosening his grip. Tristan elbowed the man's stomach as hard as he could. When he doubled over, Tristan twisted away. He kicked the back of the man's knees, knocking him down. The gun clattered to the floor. Tristan snatched the weapon up and aimed it at the intruder while backing toward Dixon. Keeping his gaze trained on the man on the ground, he put a hand on Dix's arm. He needed to see how badly she'd been hurt. To his surprise, she sat up. "I'm okay, Tristan." Astonished, he darted a glance at her. The front of her shirt was covered in blood, but she appeared to be fine. "What--" The man on the other side of the room sat up as well, and Tristan jerked his head toward the threat. The suited man blurred for a second, and then Cam was grinning at him, wearing the same black suit in a smaller size. "You pack a hell of a wallop, Doc." For a few seconds he was speechless, his still heart pounding. Finally, he understood. "This was a test, wasn't it?" Claudia entered the room, her expression grave. "It was. I'm sorry for the subterfuge, but no amount of paper and pencil testing or drills can show how you will really react in a dangerous situation." He nodded, more than a little overwhelmed. Leftover adrenaline surged through his body, leaving him shaky. She inclined her head in acknowledgement. "You did very well. You didn't panic, and you used your training. You also showed a true healer's instinct to protect an injured comrade." After clearing his throat, he managed, "Thank you." "You still have a few tests left, but I think it's safe to say you're going to make the field team. Congratulations." Claudia smiled. Tristan's return smile was wobbly. The pride and excitement he'd expected to feel were there, but muted by what he'd just been through. Claudia must have understood, because she continued, "Why don't you go home? I think you've had enough for one day." Her gaze shifted to Dix and Cam in turn. "You two, as well. Good job." Dix stood, brushing at the stain on her shirt. "Damned blanks. That hurt." Tristan jumped when a hand appeared in his line of vision. Cam grinned down at him. "Sorry, Doc. Didn't mean to startle you." Rolling his eyes, Tristan took the offered hand and allowed Cam to pull him to his feet. "Don't walk so quietly then." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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