Beautiful Death (18 page)
“You are a monster. Ah, but like diet monster, ne?”
Tristan narrowed his eyes at the grinning vampire, thinking she was being a bitch and odd that she used such a modern term.
“Ah, but lucky for you, you are also folklore. There are not many of my kind old enough to remember your kind. The rest chalk our stories up to ramblings brought on by too long life and senility.”
Tristan looked to Ash. She was more alert now and looking at Tristan with new consideration. Great, maybe she was thinking about joining Malik’s side now.
“Okay, so I’m Uruwashi. Does that mean you’re going to kill me now?
Yuki’s eyes lit up and she laughed. “Kill? No, I think not. I think I like the idea of you alive. Malik he is a fool. He has always been a fool.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Ash said softly and listed heavy to the left.
“Whoa, hey.” Tristan was up and moving for her. He grabbed Ash, wrapping his arms around her middle, before she could hit the ground. “You okay?”
She blinked up at him, licked her lips and answered softly, “Thank you.”
He frowned, tightening his hold. God, she felt so right in his arms.
Someone cleared their throat and Tristan groaned to himself. How was it that Ash always made him forget his surroundings? Dangerous.
“I think perhaps you should take our dear Asta-chan home, ne? She looks ill.”
Tristan scowled at her. But, she had a point, even if she was deflecting again. Ash looked a little sick, pale, weak. If he waited too long, she might not even be able to get herself to her feet, none less ride her bike back. “There have to be others out there if the bloodline survived all these years, where are they?”
“Others? You think there are others? Danshi, my dear, even in his lunacy, Malik is an efficient hunter. You are the last.”
He frowned hard. “Then my mother?”
She harrumphed, grinned slightly and said, “Dead.”
“Shit,” he said with real feeling. Ash moaned softly and Tristan tightened his arms around her. “So what? Am I understanding the situation right to say that I’m the last of a clan that was at all-out war with the vampires, part vampire themselves and lost, presumably all dead, but then somehow survived what… a thousand years? And now, all the sudden Malik is after the last of these “special” people because some pythia told him so?”
Yuki’s eyes lit up. “Subarashii. You know Lilith?”
“No, just heard the name. It’s her fault I’m running for my life now.”
“Oh no, danshi, do not blame that darling girl. She cannot help but see what she does and she is honest to a fault. She would not lie to anyone, even those who keep her captive.”
“So she’s Malik’s prisoner?”
“Did I say that?” Yuki asked around a grin.
Tristan shook his head. He’d about had all he could handle for one day. Yuki reverting to childishness again didn’t help. “So, bottom line, you’re telling me I’m dead?”
“I have faith.”
“Yeah?” Tristan straightened, adjusting Ash’s weight and stood with her in his arms. She was dead weight, limp and breathing slow and deep like she was asleep. “Well, I don’t believe in any god.”
A sharp laugh burst from the old vampire. “Ah yes, very good. But God does not determine faith, your will does.”
“My will is just fine.”
“Yes,” Yuki said with that sly smile again. “Yes, it is.”
He looked down at Ash and frowned. She wasn’t well at all. “Look, I’m leaving now. But remember what I told you, if I find out you lied to me about anything, I’m going to come back and haunt you crazy. Got it?”
Yuki held her hands out as if giving up. The look on her face said she wasn’t. “And I will repeat myself, I want you alive, danshi. Or perhaps I should just call you,
ryōshi
? Hai, hai, I like that very much. Hunter-san.” Though with her accent it sounded more like “huntta”. “Dear Ryōshi-san, please, I will not stop you.”
He frowned at the child, wondering her thoughts, if she meant now or ever. She was up to something and with Ash having lost her memories, they couldn’t even begin to know what that the old vamp was up to. He made a silent vow to Ash to live and help her get those memories back, for her sake. It was the least he owed her.
“Thank you, Yukihime for the information,” he said working on being a touch polite since she stopped fucking with him. Mostly.
She grinned all fang. “Please, visit again soon. I can find more entertaining ways to spend our time than with idle chatter.”
He furrowed his brow at the tiny vampire, frowning hard. Idle chatter? Visit again? No fucking way. He started to turn away, but stopped and looked back to Yuki. “Oh and next time you want to fuck with us, just know I won’t be this nice again. I’ll have a bigger gun too.”
“Ah yes,” Yuki said around her laughter. “I like you very much.”
He gave her a dirty look and turned towards the door.
“Oh, and Ryōshi-san?”
Tristan turned to face her, cringing. God, was he ever going to get away? “What?”
“Remember, I have faith in you.”
THE October night air felt deliciously liberating. Despite the colder inside temperature, Tristan had been sweating under his heavy leather jacket. The opium didn’t help either, making his legs drag like he was wearing exercise weights. Not to mention his arm ached where the stitches started to pinch. He was still a little miffed at Ash for not warning him about Yuki’s not-so-stable state. And while that tiny shit did fuck with them both, he learned a lot. And nothing, really.
Tristan Blum was Tristan Uruwashi. The last of the dead clan of vampire hunters. But what did that mean for him? He didn’t have anything in common with the vampires. He liked solids and sunlight. He aged and got hurt. Though, there was a nagging thought at the back of his brain saying, “Notah! You’ve never been sick and you know it.” Sure enough, he’d never even a cold. And after he broke his leg… well, he was sure he scared his doctor with how fast that healed.
“Shit,” he sighed and adjusted Ash’s weight as he trekked through the dark to the front of the house. She hadn’t moved since he picked her up and he hoped she was okay; he didn’t have a clue what to do it she wasn’t. It wasn’t like he could waltz a vampire into a hospital and ask, “Hey, where’s the blood bank, she just needs a refill.” Right.
He looked down and gave a small start when he met the soft purple eyes staring up at him. He wondered if she’d been quietly listening in on his thoughts the whole time. He was starting to really not care. He gave her a warm smile, a smile that he meant; it filled his whole face telling her he was happy to see her. She only blinked up at him.
He stumbled the rest of the way in the dark in silence. When he reached the front of the house he gently lowered Ash to her feet. She wobbled, but managed to stay upright. Her eyes were half lidded and heavy. Tristan was sure she couldn’t possibly be any paler, until he met Yuki anyway. Ash was almost the loony vamp’s shade now, and it had nothing to do with usage of powers. God, there was so much he didn’t understand.
Standing behind her, he leaned into her, his hand lightly around her waist and he put his mouth near her ear. “Are you okay?”
Ash swayed, brushing the front of his body and nodded. “Yes.”
“Hey, maybe you should ride with me. We’ll come back later for your—”
Ash’s head snapped around and up to glare at him. “I said I am fine.”
Tristan held is hands up in defeat and sighed, turning away. Fine? Whatever. He learned a long time ago to not fight logistics with women, whether he was right or not, he always lost. Who knew how the angry vampire would react when pushed past her limit. He liked a girl that could kick his ass, but only if he had a chance of living afterwards. He was sure it wouldn’t take much for the petite woman to kill him.
With another exasperated sigh, thinking letting her ride was a bad fucking idea, he got on his bike and followed her out of the driveway back home. Ash took the lead, managing to keep her pace steady and reasonable. The drone of the motor, the darkness, his exhaustion let his mind wander, distracting him from the road. He thought of home and the friends left behind. He thought that it was a shame he let his bullheadedness rule him and left them angry with each other. He would have liked to at least seen his oldest friends, Gillian and Eric, once more. God, what would they say to him? Would they turn him away for being such a dickhead? No, he liked to think he knew them better than that. That they’d open their arms and hearts to him again. There was nothing in this world that couldn’t be fixed. Even big bad walking dead out for your blood.
The screech of metal and plastic being torn apart shocked him out of his thoughts. The bike swayed under him as he gaped in horror. Ash's motorcycle was sliding across the pavement toward a guardrail in spray of gold sparks. He gasped and barely missed the lump of dark leather and white flesh lying in the middle of his path. He only just kept the bike upright and came to a rolling stop, jumping off and dropping it to the pavement, not caring that it was their only way left to get home. He ran to that unmoving lump, fighting with his helmet.
“Aaassh!” Tristan hit the ground on his knees, sliding the last few inches to her. He felt his jeans tear and the sharp burn of his skin grating on the pavement. But the pain meant nothing as he rolled Ash to her back, fumbling at her helmet. Gently he pulled the helmet free and tossed it away to join his. “Oh my god. Ash? Ash, honey, open your eyes.” His voice was heavy with fear, his stomach twisted in knots. But he felt her, the Uruwashi in him felt her.
Still, he had to know for sure and jabbed two fingers into the side of her neck. She was freezing, but there was a strong, steady pulse. He let out a long breath. It was silly to think a little tumble off a motorcycle would kill her, but he was terrified anyway. His hands were shaking and when he looked down to them, he saw that they were covered in red. A gasp and a quick pat down revealed the source. Her entire right side had road rash. Her legs and torso were fine where the leather saved her, but her arm had been bare and took the brunt of the damage.
“Shit. Hey, Ash…?” He wiped the blood from his hands on his jeans before taking her face into his hands, positioning her to look at him. Eyes shut, lips parted. Still breathing.
“Ash? Can you hear me? Open your eyes. Ash, please...” He ran his palm over her cheek, willing her hear him, to be okay.
White lashes fluttered and then there was a sliver of purple iris looking up at him. “I said I am fine.”
Tristan let go of his held breath in a snorted sort of laugh of relief.
She smiled ever so faintly, almost non-existent. “Sorry...”
He shut his eyes and pulled her to his chest. “Jesus, I’m just glad you’re okay.” It was a miracle her sword didn’t come free of its sheath and cut her in half.
A small, frigid hand touched his cheek and his eyes flew open again. Under her pale exhaustion, Ash was giving him a small, thankful smile. Tristan gave her a warm smile in return and leaned close enough that he could feel the cold radiating off her like standing next to a windowpane in the dead of winter. “You really scared the hell out of me,” he whispered.
“Vampire,” she answered as her fingers traced a soft, cold line along his jaw. “You need to shave.”
Her fingers came to rest over his pounding pulse and he put his hand over hers, pinning it against him. “Stupid ass vampire, making jokes at a time like this.”
“Tristan, I…”
He leaned a breath closer so that he could taste hers across his lips. “What is it, Ash…?”
“I want, what I mean to say is, I need—” Under his hand, her nails dug into his flesh.
“Tell me, it’s okay.”
They stared at each other in silence, her cold fingers pressed to his hot pulse. Breath and scents mixing—vampire and not-so-human. Finally she shut her eyes and sighed, shaking her head ever so slightly. With a small tug at his collar she tried to sit up. After a stunned moment, Tristan remembered himself and helped her upright. She didn’t protest when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to her feet against him.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
She nodded a little too quickly. “I think, yes. I can manage.”
He darted away quickly, leaving her to stand on her own and hoped she didn’t tip over before he got back. When he returned with a helmet in each hand, Ash turned into him and rested her body against his, her head on his chest. He gave a start, surprised at her openness towards him.
“Hey, you ready to go?”
She nodded against him and stood upright on her own. Without a word she walked over to her bike, leaking fluids on the pavement, scoffed at it and gave it a hard kick with the bottom of her foot. Tristan could only gape like a fool as it slid across the pavement like a greased up frat boy on a slip ‘n slide. Like it weighed nothing. The bike found the edge of the road and tumbled over and down into a deep ditch.
Ash turned back to Tristan, still staring dumbfounded at her, and took the helmet from him. She started to pull it on, made a face and tossed it over her shoulder to join her discarded bike. Tristan didn’t complain. Hey, if the angry vampire didn’t want to wear it, he wasn’t going to argue. Besides he saw her side. It was bloody, but not bleeding. She’d healed the damage in the time it took him to get to her. She was, in a word…
amazing
.
Ash’s attention snapped up to his face and he offered her a smile before going to retrieve his own dropped bike. After a double check to make sure the bike still ran and that his jacket was secure—he did not want the sort of road rash Ash had if something happened—he motioned for her to join him. She stuck her lip out as if to pout, but it was only for the barest of seconds. She didn’t like asking for help. Sure she didn’t ask in this case, but help was being given nonetheless. Tristan understood that about Ash. It was the thing they had the most in common. Well, that and somehow, they were tied by blood, even if it was metaphorical.
Ash had a hard time climbing up on the back seat. She was just too drained to do the small task. Kicking her defunct bike away had been all the energy she had left and she wished she hadn’t wasted it so foolishly. Tristan tried to be a gentleman and help her up by her hand, her arm, her waist. Anywhere not too sensitive. In the end, he ended up reaching back scooping her up under her butt and lifting her behind him in one smooth move. Like he’d done it before. Ash also noticed in that quick little move that his elbow was double jointed, bending back much father then it should have to accommodate the awkward angle.
With a big sigh, Ash collapsed into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. His entire body warmed at her closeness. Part of it was the Uruwashi blood, sure. But the other… He liked that he could do something for her, no matter how small. Tristan smiled and put a hand over hers for a moment, hoped he could get them back without getting horribly lost—or horribly distracted by Ash—and then they were off.
Two wrong turns and one dip almost too deep for the extra weight later, the pair arrived back to the house in one piece. Tristan was as proud as he was surprised. He shut off the bike and removed his helmet to drop softly to the ground at his feet. It was quiet out and cold. There wasn’t even any night frogs or crickets. Seemed sort of sad.
“Ash? We’re here… Ash?”
He looked back over his shoulder and saw her slumped against him. It was hard to tell from the angle, but her eyes were shut. He sighed and gently pried her freezing fingers open. Free from her hold, he wiggled out from underneath her and somehow managed to climb off the bike without kicking her in the face. He stopped to frown at her slumped over the seat, cheek resting on the gas tank, arms hanging lifeless towards the ground, sword still attached to her hip, hanging down, resting on her foot. She looked so sad and broken and the thought that she was far too strong of a woman to be reduced to this at the whim of someone he thought was a friend. Appearances were deceiving though, look at Ash. Hell, or himself. So much for being human.
Tristan sighed, lifting the small vampire into his arms. “It’s my turn to take care of you,” he said softly into her ear even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. He kissed her hair and took in a deep breath of her soft scent. God, she always smelled so damn good, like sweet orange and cream, vanilla and smooth with no citrus bite. Delicious. That’s when he noticed she wasn’t covered in blood anymore, like it’d never been there. The only lingering proof that she’d even had an accident was her torn clothing and messed up hair.
Inside in the
genkan
, the foyer, Haruka met him with a frown. He stopped short, frowning back and then forced a hospitable smile.
“Hey, uh…”
Haruka’s eyes flicked to Ash and then back to Tristan. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. But he knew what it looked like. At least the torn side of Ash’s clothing was hidden against him.
“We…”
Had an accident
, made it sound serious. By all rights it was, but he didn’t want worry Haruka. He was going take care of Ash for once. Everything would be okay. “She’s just tired. I’m going to put her to bed.”
Haruka blinked at him once and then stepped up to them. She bent over Ash, gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and turned away without a word. Tristan sighed to himself and kept moving. At Ash’s door he’d just pushed it open with his foot when a dark mass shot out. Pandora jumped at him, almost toppling him and Ash over in her excitement.
“Hey, it’s okay sweetie,” he whispered. “I’m taking good care of your Master. Go lay down, okay?” Pandora gave him one of those adorable thirty-degree head tilts and took off to a small dog bed in the corner of the room and laid down quietly. Sky blue eyes watched him intently as he came into the room, kicked the door shut and eased Ash down on her bed. He took a few minutes to remove all of her weapons, dropping them to the floor next to the bed. Her boots and his jacket joined the pile.
Ash looked so peaceful lying there.
Like sleeping beauty
... If he kissed her, would she wake?
And then they’d live happily ever after…
Despite feeling beaten, he smiled. He also decided against the sleeping beauty test. Was that kiss worth getting his face torn off by an angry vampire?