***
The day of the New York City Chocolate Expert Competition had arrived. Issy was supposed to meet Tristan in front of Dark Heaven at eleven o’clock. ‘Sign in’ for the competition was at one o’clock. They’d be an hour early, but it was better to be safe than sorry because if contestants were late to the ‘sign in’ period they would be automatically disqualified.
Issy arrived at Dark Heaven at eleven o’clock on the dot, and maneuvered her mountain bike up behind Tristan’s Corvette (yes, she lived next door, but had to appear as though she did not). She looked around for any sign of Tristan and was surprised that he wasn’t already outside the shop and waiting for her.
“That’s funny.” Issy hopped off her bike, made her way to the front door of Dark Heaven, and peered inside the darkened shop. All the lights were off and it was quiet inside. Tristan had even put up a ‘Sorry, We’re Closed’ sign. “He should be here. I wonder if something happened to him.” There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought. Some of Tristan’s fans could become…fanatical. It had happened before.
For some reason, Issy recalled how at the Epic Taste Party, Tristan had looked at his family with fear. “I need to see where he is…before I start panicking.” Issy whipped out her smart phone and brought up her Shadow Stalker GPS tracking app. Issy blinked at the screen when she saw where he was - or at least where his own smart phone was. Tristan was pretty far away, thirty minutes outside of the city at the Savant Mansion Estate.
Issy recognized the address as the Savant Mansion Estate because once Issy had found out that Adrian Savant was Tristan’s father she’d done a background check on the man, of course. Um, hello, stalker. She’d been surprised to discover that Mr. Savant was president and CEO of La Boulangerie Savant - the famous French bakery franchise that was taking America by storm. The family was worth billions apparently.
Issy nibbled on her bottom lip worriedly. “He’s at his family’s mansion…how? Why? Was he kidnapped? Is his father or brother trying to make sure Tristan loses the competition? Fiddlesticks! I’ll have to go and get him back! Don’t underestimate stalkers Savant family. Here I come!”
The Living Doll hopped back onto her bike and started off in the direction of the Savant Mansion Estate. She pedaled hard, flying through traffic, and putting the pedal to the metal as she swerved around cars whose drivers gawked at her as they watched her pass them by.
Thirty-two minutes later, she arrived at the estate. She bypassed the front gate and went around to the back of the estate that was a forested area. Her Shadow Stalker phone app let Issy know exactly where she could slip past the outer wall undetected. Apparently, there’d been a storm recently and there was a breech in the outer wall that hadn’t been repaired yet.
When Issy found what she was looking for she saw that an enormous oak tree had fallen over and broken a section of the iron and stone fence. There was just barely enough space for Issy to squeeze her bike and then herself through. Once past the outer wall, she mounted her bike and continued her way through the forest, down a winding dirt path that lead towards the mansion.
As she drew closer she saw that Tristan’s family home was a Georgian stone manor, three-stories tall with slanted, gray, slate roofs, and huge, latticed windows that must have let in a lot of sunlight. From her view of the back she saw that two of the rooms on the third story had balconies. There was also a porch on the bottom floor with elegant white columns supporting the overhang that shaded the porch.
Upon reaching the back of the estate she whipped out her phone to check Tristan’s location again. Issy hopped off her bike and stalked closer to where she saw the dot flashing while rolling her bike along next to her. She used the large flowering shrubs for cover as she moved even closer to the building.
According to her smart phone Tristan was inside of the third floor bedroom, the one with the balcony. Issy looked up and she gasped when she saw Tristan climbing down from the balcony using what appeared to be a knotted-up bed sheet.
“I’m so awesome…I’m like 007.” Tristan was saying to himself. However, the bed sheet began to rip. “Oh crap!” Tristan swore as he tried to climb back up, but it was already too late.
“Tristan!” Issy called out in fright.
“Huh?” Tristan looked over his shoulder and saw Issy standing on the ground below him, and his eyes widened. “Issy?” The bed sheet ripped completely and Tristan fell towards the ground. Issy screamed as she watched him plummet through the air.
Tristan fell right into a rosebush with a crash. “Tristan!” Issy ran over to where Tristan had landed.
“Ugh.” Tristan groaned as he began to push himself out of the rosebush. “I’m still alive, china doll.”
There were tears shimmering in Issy’s eyes. “Tristan…you idiot!”
Tristan stood up, but immediately crumpled to the ground in pain. “Ah…crap…I sprained my ankle.”
“Here, let me help you.” Issy helped Tristan to stand once more by putting his arm around her shoulders. “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here before-”
“Look! There he is!” “Get him!” “Don’t let him escape! The Mistress will have our heads if we let him get away!” Came the frantic voices of the security guards.
Issy’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the men dressed in black with dark sunglasses on their faces. “Security guards…will they shoot us?”
Tristan shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think? Then…we’re going to escape!” Issy hopped onto her mountain bike. “Get on.”
Tristan raised an eyebrow at the Living Doll. “A mountain bike? You’re not serious. This ride is seriously going to cramp my style.”
“Get on, you!” Issy snapped.
“Okay, okay.” Tristan got on the bike behind Issy and hesitated about where he should put his hands.
Issy let out a frustrated huff. “Wrap your arms tight around me. This is going to be a bumpy ride!”
“Gotcha, china doll.” Tristan wrapped his arms around Issy’s slim waist, and couldn’t resist leaning over and smelling her hair. Mmm. Vanilla and sugar cookies. He unconsciously nuzzled his nose against her neck.
Issy shivered at the sensation but ignored Tristan as she began to pedal hard. Off they went, while the security guards watched in wide-eyed disbelief as a Living Doll and Tristan flew past them on a mountain bike of all things.
“What the hell?” “Okay, who’s the punk that put pot in my sandwich?” “No, man, I saw it too - a Living Doll on a mountain bike came to rescue the young master!”
Issy pedaled with all her might and they flew through the forest that was directly behind the Savant Mansion Estate. When they reached the breach in the outer wall they dismounted from the bike in order to squeeze through the opening. Once on the other side they got back on the bike and Issy took off once more.
Tristan frowned when he noted that Issy was panting for breath. Really, he should have been the one doing the pedaling if not for his sprained ankle. It wasn’t like Tristan to make a lady do all the work. Her muscles were straining from having to pedal her bike forward with a full-grown man sitting behind her. “Hey, are you okay, china doll? We could pull over and try to get a cab.”
“There’s no time! We have to head straight to the competition venue! ‘Sign in’ is in less than fifteen minutes!” Issy declared.
Tristan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “We’re not going to go back for my Corvette?”
“No time!” Issy insisted as they hit a busy street, and she began to pedal even harder, swerving through traffic, and around cars whose drivers gawked as the strange couple zoomed past. Tristan smiled sheepishly at them. Her speed was pretty impressive considering they were on a mountain bike.
Tristan mentally shrugged, held Issy tight, and decided to just enjoy the ride. He thought he understood the feeling of a young girl riding on the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle with her arms
wrapped around his muscular torso as she rested her cheek against his strong back. Unconsciously, Tristan rested his cheek against Issy’s back.
Issy’s eyes went wide and she snorted, “Ha! What are you doing, silly? Be serious.”
“I am being serious…for once in my life. I feel safe when I’m with you, Issy. Why is that?” Her presence comforted him and put him at ease.
“You’re being such a girl right now, you know that, right?” Issy teased.
Tristan smirked. “Yeah, I know, but I don’t really care. I’m pretty confident in my masculinity after all.” The chocolatier scooted forward so that he could nibble at her neck.
Issy gasped in surprise. Was he always so perverted? “Of course you are, Mr. Chocolate Sex God.”
Thirteen minutes later, Tristan and Issy arrived at the competition venue. Issy parked her bike in front of the building and they dismounted. Because of Tristan’s sprained ankle he had to use Issy like a crutch by having his arm slung over her shoulders as she helped him inside of the building. Tristan didn’t like being so vulnerable. One of his ‘weapons’ was now useless, but it wasn’t like he was going to an underground fight club or anything. This was just a chocolate competition, so he figured he’d be okay.
As soon as they were inside they made their way over to the ‘sign in’ table. Issy signed them in and they were handed costumes to change into. The Chocolate Expert Competition was going to be filmed for a TV special that would air later on ABC. This was why the costumes were more ornate versions of the standard chocolatier uniforms.
“You can change into your new uniforms in our locker rooms. The girl’s locker room is to your right, and the men’s locker room is to your left.” The clerk directed them with a wave of her hand.
“Well, it looks like I’m going this way.” Issy said as she jerked her thumb to the right.
“And I’m going this way.” Tristan said as he limped in the other direction, even though he was hesitant to leave Issy’s side for even a second. What the hell was wrong with him?
Issy frowned when she noticed Tristan’s limp and called out to him. “Will you be alright on your own?”
Tristan turned his head to raise an eyebrow at her. “Are you offering to help me change, china doll? Because if you are-”
Issy blushed and waved her hands frantically before her. “N-No, of course not!”
Tristan shrugged. “Don’t worry then. I’ll manage. But I’ll miss my pretty crutch.” His bi-colored eyes were twinkling with mischief.
Issy reached out and whacked his arm. “Is that all I’m good for, hmm?”
Tristan’s expression turned serious. “No.” He turned around fully, reached out, and cupped her cheek. “Issy…you’re amazing. Thanks for saving me.”
Issy felt her cheeks heat up and figured that at this point her face must have been as red as a tomato. “Anytime, playboy.”
Tristan hobbled off in the direction of the men’s locker room. He entered and peered around surprised that none of the other contestants were present. Tristan stripped off his chocolatier jacket, and picked up the jacket he’d been given. It resembled his own chocolatier jacket but was much more flashy with black buttons and silvery embroidery. A dark blue neckerchief with silver embroidery had also been provided for him. Tristan was just about to put the jacket on when a voice called out behind him.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Tristan.” Came a deep, sneering voice.
Tristan turned to see none other than his brother Dominik Savant. “Dominik! What are you doing here?”
A sly, twisted smile slowly spread across Dominik’s face. “I’m entered into this competition as an assistant chocolatier. Father flew in a famous patissiere from France to represent the Savant Family. We’re winning this thing, Brother.”
Tristan gawked at Dominik. What the hell? “Assistant chocolatier? You don’t know the first thing about making chocolate.” He paused and narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Do you?”
Dominik shrugged carelessly. “I’ve studied up on it. It’s not rocket science, Brother. Even an idiot could learn how to make chocolate. I’m going to beat you so bad…and at your own game. Though I must confess I’m surprised to see you here. Our security guards were supposed to kidnap you and take you back to the manor. And mother promised me that she’d keep you…occupied.” He sneered the word ‘occupied’ and shuddered with disgust.
Tristan gave his brother a shocked look. “You knew about Mom?”
Dominik’s blue eyes flashed angrily, “Don’t call her ‘Mom’. It’s disturbing. She’s my mother, not yours. You really are disgusting. But whatever…I’m just going to have to beat you in this competition by myself now. Father and I know all about your current financial troubles. I’m going to win this contest to make sure you don’t get that prize money, and then you’ll be forced to come back home.”
Tristan scowled darkly. “But why would you help father? You don’t even like me, so there’s no way you could want me to return home.”
A haughty expression came over Dominik’s face. “I’m helping father because ever since you left father’s cold demeanor towards me has changed. He’s finally acknowledged me. Seen my worth. He’s been grooming me to take over the company and to assume my rightful place as CEO of La Boulangerie Savant. Ever since you left everything’s gone my way. My relationship with father has improved dramatically.”
“CEO?” Tristan was floored by this revelation.
“That’s right.” Dominik’s eyes narrowed. “Why sound so surprised? Father also explained to me that you’re just a ‘tool’ to this family - a pawn to be used to seal certain business deals. Brother…I didn’t know you were so easy.” He sneered the last word.
Tristan clenched his fists at his sides. “Shut the hell up, Dominik. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dominik raised an eyebrow at Tristan. “Oh, but I do. Father told me the secret about you - that you’re not even human. That you’re half-demon…an inferior being, like an animal, which also means there’s no reason for me to play fair.” Dominik announced as he stalked towards Tristan and raised his fist.
Tristan tried to raise his leg to block the incoming attack but a stab of pain went through his leg, paralyzing it. Crap.
Dominik grinned devilishly as he punched Tristan hard across the face. Tristan was knocked backwards to the floor. He looked up at Dominik in shock and wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Brother…”
“You’re not my brother!” Dominik snarled. “You demon scum!” He attacked Tristan again and grabbed his wrist. “I’m going to break your wrist. Let’s see how you make chocolate then, monster!” Dominik began to bend Tristan’s wrist back while Tristan struggled against him.
Darn it! If only I could use my legs to fight! This jerk is really going to break my wrist! Tristan felt true fear when the realization of what was about to happen sunk in. “Brother…wait, don’t! Please!” Tristan begged, feeling utterly pathetic. My hand…!
Dominik was about to break Tristan’s wrist, when-
A large hand latched onto Dominik’s wrist and began to squeeze. “Release him.” Came a deep, throaty rumble.
“Ow! What the hell?” Dominik was forced to release Tristan’s wrist as he was suddenly pulled up and away from Tristan.
Tristan blinked up at the man who’d just saved his butt in shock - it was Levi Devlin the ‘Brawler Chef’ whom he’d seen from afar at the Epic Taste Party. Tristan couldn’t help but gawk at the man’s punky blue hair, and badass ear piercings. Levi’s narrowed blue eyes held a fierceness to them. And he looked pissed. His eyes were flashing gold. With his free hand Levi wasted no time in punching Dominik hard across the face.
Dominik stumbled backwards and glared at Levi, looking offended. “What the hell, man? This has nothing to do with you.”
“Actually, it does have something to do with us.” Came a drawling voice and Tristan turned to see Am
brose Rune, the ‘Patissier Prince’ with his startling red hair, golden eyes (just like a demon’s), wicked smile, and bronzed skin. This was the handsome patissier who’d been flirting with Carmen at the Epic Taste party.
“Ambrose?” Tristan said. Ambrose Rune - the guy acted and looked like a prince, but Tristan could sense that he was dangerous.
“Hey, man.” Ambrose turned his attention towards Tristan. “I’ve entered this competition as a chocolatier. Though my specialty is baked goods, and my friend Levi is my assistant chocolatier.” He informed Tristan with a flip of his hair.
“We’re not friends.” Levi grumbled.
Ambrose shrugged apologetically. “Anyways, I need the cash. I want to open up my own bakery back in San Francisco.”
“You guys are participating?” Tristan asked again, dumbfounded.
Ambrose offered Tristan his hand. Tristan took it and was helped up. “Yep.” Ambrose grinned and then frowned at Tristan’s befuddled look. “Hey, did you get hit in the head or something? You look pretty out of it.”
Tristan shook his head. “No…I’m just surprised that I was rescued. I really thought for a minute there…” He shivered as he rubbed his swollen wrist. His brother had almost broken his precious hand.
Levi’s eyes were narrowed upon Dominik. “Just what were you trying to do, pathetic human?”
Dominik raised his nose at Levi. “I was trying to break his wrist. What the hell did it look like, idiot?”
Levi growled low in his throat and threw another punch Dominik’s way. However-
Dominik raised his forearm, blocked the blow, and retaliated with a punch of his own. Dominik’s fist went flying into the side of Levi’s face. Levi tasted blood. Then he smiled in a feral manner.
“Oh man…your brother is so dead.” Ambrose chuckled as he rubbed his hands together. “This will be fun to watch.”
Levi turned back to look at Dominik and his eyes were flashing golden. He licked the blood from his teeth. Then Levi attacked. Dominik responded and fought back. Dominik was a professional kickboxer, and so was no pushover, but Levi could hit hard. For every blow Dominik got in - Levi returned it twofold.
Finally, Levi sent his fist flying into the front of Dominik’s face right into his nose, breaking it, and sending Dominik flying across the locker room. Blood gushed down Dominik’s face.
Levi dusted his hands off, looking pleased. “Too bad he didn’t last longer.”
Ambrose walked over and nudged Dominik in the side with his shoe. “If the competition officials see this we’re going to be in for a load of trouble.” Ambrose reached down and hauled Dominik up. “Let’s stick him inside one of the lockers, for now. Come on, Levi, help me out, man.”
“Tch.” Levi complained as he helped Ambrose stuff Dominik into a locker.
Tristan was having sympathy pains as he watched Dominik being mercilessly shoved into a tiny locker. He watched everything that was going on in a slightly detached state of mind. These guys were acting like a couple of thugs. Tristan was just glad they seemed to be on his side. From the moment Tristan had seen these two guys at the party he’d sensed that they were dangerous. And that there was something off about them.
They reminded Tristan of how he’d felt when he’d first encountered a dangerous demon by the name of Gavin. Gavin had blackmailed Tristan into working for him, but ultimately Gavin had gotten what was coming to him. Tristan hurriedly put on his chocolatier jacket. “Hey…um, thank you for helping me out, guys. I really owe you guys one.”
“Your brother is a real piece of work. And I hate cheaters.” Levi huffed as he crossed his brawny arms over his broad chest.
Ambrose stalked over and patted Tristan’s arm. “Us demons need to stick together, right?”
Tristan’s eyes widened. “Demons? You guys are too?”
“I’m not-” Levi shook his head to deny it.
“We are.” Ambrose said firmly. He put his hand out for Tristan to shake. “May the best demon win.”
Tristan took Ambrose’s hand and shook it. “Yeah.” He offered Ambrose a tremulous smile.
“We’d better get going. The competition should be starting soon.” Levi groused.
“Oh, wait, before I forget.” Ambrose fished out a business card and handed it to Tristan. “If you’re ever in San Francisco stop by Levi’s restaurant: Poseidon’s Trident. “I’m usually there…mooching food off of this guy.” Ambrose jerked his thumb at Levi.
Levi’s eyebrows pinched together. “Don’t go giving people my business card without my permission, jerk.”
“Ah…you can have it back.” Tristan said meekly as he tried to give Levi the card back.
But Levi waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Keep it, kid.” Levi noticed Tristan’s injury next. “Did that jerk do that to you before we got here?” He waved his hand at Tristan’s ankle.
“Ah…no, actually. I was kidnapped earlier today…and had to escape out a three-story high window. Let me give you guys a piece of advice. If you’re ever kidnapped don’t try to fashion a rope out of a bed sheet - it won’t work.”
Ambrose laughed at that. “Man…you’ve had a lot of bad luck today. Huh?” He slapped Tristan on the back amiably but with enough force to make Tristan bowl over.
Levi had his eyes narrowed at Tristan. “Kidnapped, huh? I feel you.”
“Understatement.” Tristan said to Ambrose. “But hopefully things will turn around.” He said optimistically.
“When it rains…it usually pours.” Levi said ominously as he left the locker room.
Tristan’s expression fell.
“Don’t mind him.” Ambrose said, noticing Tristan’s unease. “He can be a real sourpuss. Let’s go.” The patissier said in a friendly manner.
“R-Right.” Tristan followed after the two tough guys, feeling kinda wimpy in comparison. Those two are cool.
To be continued in…Chocolate 12: Ambrosial Cherry