Beautiful Death (29 page)

Together they hobbled over to the frozen bodyguard ice sculpture. Up close the vampire was a sight to see. The ice was at least three inches thick, shining and shimmering with each new angle viewed at. Tristan titled his head to the side, first to the left, then to the right, studying the strangely stunning spectacle of vampire and ice. Tristan couldn’t, but Ash heard the strong heartbeat from within. The vampire was still alive. For now.

Tristan was still examining the oddity of vampire and ice when suddenly the ice prison burst into a spray of glittering confetti. Shocked, Tristan stumbled back when a hot, hard hand jerked him away.

He must have blinked, because suddenly Ash was on the bodyguard. The vampire was more than three times her size and she stopped him dead in his tracks. The sword he had poised had slipped from his hand, fallen to the ground and two petite hands were wrapped around his thick throat, gagging him. She couldn’t even reach the ground he was that much taller than her. The fledgling gave the smaller vampire a surprised look.

Ash kneed him in the groin and shoved him back. She rode the bodyguard down, knee planted in his nuts, and drove fangs into his neck with an angry growl. They hit the ground with a series of grunts and groans as her knee ground into his privates, her teeth deeper into his neck. He kicked and pushed at her, slinging Russian curses and still she hung on with the skill of a seasoned bull rider. It didn’t take long for his words to slur until they stopped altogether, until his writhing ceased.

Ash sat up with a gasp, tossing her chin skyward to send a spray of dark red droplets through the air. There was a chunk the size of Ash’s mouth missing from vampire’s neck, blood slowly seeping out—what there was left of it. Ash reached under her and withdrew the tantō from the dead vampire’s belt. She lifted it over her head, grasping it with both hands, one on the hilt, the other to the sheath. In a movement Tristan almost missed, she ripped the foot-long sword from its sheath, tossed the case and brought the blade down the front of the vampire’s neck, removing his head cleanly from his body.

She stood slowly, uncurling herself, stretching with the beauty of a butterfly being born from its cocoon. She turned and met Tristan’s eyes, her own half lidded and cold. Blood stained the front of her chin, down her neck, over her breasts, reaching the smooth expanse of her flat stomach. Eyes still locked with Tristan’s, she spit out a large, red chunk with a look that said she didn’t like the taste. The meat flopped across the ground to land a foot from his bare toes.

A week ago he would have run screaming from that place. A week ago he would be puking his guts out over the horror of it all. But now, he felt nothing. He was cold, dead, unmoving inside. So what if Ash was naked, covered in blood and spitting out flesh. Maybe he was becoming accustomed to the vampires, albeit too quickly. Or maybe he was just that beaten to shit, that his mind wasn’t processing properly. Yeah, he liked option B.

Ash stepped forward, flipping the tantō in the air so that the tip of the blade landed between her fingers. She leaned forward, arm out to offer Tristan the weapon. He smiled, a wicked, nefarious smile that made her smile in return and took the proffered sword.

Fucker’s all mine
, he thought.

“Together,” Ash corrected as she helped Tristan to his feet again.

He nodded. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Ash swiped an arm across her mouth to clean away the blood, turned on her heel and started to walk towards Malik. She was fully aware of her nakedness as she stalked the half frozen Master vampire, swaying narrow hips, letting her breasts bounce like she were a stripper working the crowd to coerce money from lecherous hands. She was teasing her Master—he’d come so close to having her again, only to be denied. She was going to make the beast suffer with what he couldn’t have any more just before he died by the very hand of what he couldn’t have. Tristan laughed at the dark cruelty of it as he slowly hobbled after her.

Malik looked up, fighting his true emotions to feign boredom. “Oh, Asta. Are we going to play now?” He gave a melodramatic yawn. “I think otherwise I might fall asleep from boredom soon.”

In a blur, Ash was suddenly standing over Malik, dripping blood from a fisted hand. Malik laughed as if it was all great game, blood gushing from his nose, filling his mouth. Yuki met Tristan’s gaze and gave her lips a slow, seductive lick. Tristan got a chill and looked away.

“Well,” Yuki said, “I think it is time for me to stop interfering. I will not be the one to skew a pythia’s words.”

Both Tristan and Ash flinched, looking to Yuki with confusion all over their expressions. Of course, it was the tall American who had something to say. “What the fuck are you—”

Yuki took a step back and suddenly the ice encasing Malik crumbled and he was free. His face lit up, mouth curled into a nasty sneer. He rose from his knees and drove his shoulder into Tristan’s chest, tackling him to the ground. Tristan gasped, bracing his left arm under the vampire’s chin and lifted the short blade with the other. The vampire was faster and grabbed his weapon arm, pinning it and his only hope to the ground. Malik’s free hand reached between them and grabbed a handful of torn flesh at Tristan’s stomach.

He screamed, the arm he was using to hold Malik back wavered as his stomach and stitches gave under the vampire’s nails. Ash flung herself onto Malik’s back, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his throat.

“Now, this is more like it!” Malik yelled into Tristan’s face, spitting on him. The Master vampire pushed the length of his naked body against the last Uruwashi. He had a few fun things in mind for the beautiful man once he’d subdued the others. Right, he didn’t want his two pets dead yet, he just wanted them docile enough to have a little bit of fun.

Ash, having heard the thoughts, caught a preview of the “fun” her Master had in mind, tightened her arm around his throat. “I will not let you harm him!”

Malik laughed. “I’d like to see you try otherwise. You think I cannot get free of this interesting little ménage a—”

“Coward!” she shouted, cutting off the rest of his little speech. What he had started to say was that all he had to do was command her, then there would be nothing either of them could do to stop it. But Ash knew her Master better than he thought she had. “You are a coward to resort to such tricks!”

Over all others, Malik’s biggest sin had always been pride.

Malik ground his fangs before letting out an aggravated cry. Of course, his silly, delusional scion was right. That would be cheating. What fun was there in cheating? He decided, regretfully, that Asta had to die first—it was the only way he could enjoy his time with the last Uruwashi. With another cry, Malik jerked back, surprising them both and spun.

Ash was flung to her back with a grunt against the grass. Malik landed on top of her, pressed groin to chest. With her compromised position, and lack of proper attire, it wasn’t hard for him to slip into her. Ash gasped, her eyes widening. She resisted, wanted to, but then when Malik made his first hard thrust against her, she waivered. She met his eyes and something in her broke. He was looking at her in that way that he always had. He knew he owned her, mind, body and spirit.

Realizing in an instant what was happening, Tristan screamed, “Fucking bastard!” and dove at the vampire. The tackle that tore Malik off Ash and took the two men rolling across the lawn was the last thing Tristan’s wounds needed. The stabbing pain in his chest, through his lungs made him lose his grip on the vampire as he gasped for air.

Angry for having his time with Asta so rudely interrupted, the Master vampire threw himself on the human, delivering a punch to his gut. All of the air left Tristan and he couldn’t even yell in pain. He lay under the man, completely prone to whatever the vampire had in mind.

Malik leaned in close, bearing his fangs to Tristan. “And to think, I had thought you spoiled my fun.”

Tristan couldn’t even ask what the vampire meant if he wanted to. Malik suddenly pressed his mouth to Tristan’s. His eyes widened as he tried to push the vampire back. Tristan may have wanted to be transformed into his birthright, but this was definitely not the way he wanted the deed done. There was a cry from behind the vampire and Ash slammed into Malik, pushing him off Tristan. But not before the vampire forced his tongue into Tristan’s mouth, getting a deep taste. Malik laughed, momentarily letting Ash think that she had bested him. Tristan lay on the ground, stunned, wondering what the hell just happened.

“Marvelous!” Malik yelled with a laugh.

“Ah, Tristan!” Ash called out over her Master’s cry.

There was a grunt and then the fucking bastard was on top of Tristan again, Ash nowhere in sight. Tristan swung out and missed, glancing a cheek. Malik countered with his is own punch that took Tristan right in the eyebrow. A gash opened, spilling dark red into his eye, half blinding him. His mouth hurt and he realized he’d taken a hit there too. Or was it something worse, did Malik bite him? The scent of his blood, the taste of it across his tongue made his stomach clench. The Uruwashi in him screamed for him to swallow. The human in him wanted to vomit. He just reacted and spit into Malik’s face.

Malik laughed and lapped at his chin and upper lip. “Mmm, that’s it. That’s the flavor I desire... mmm, I can’t wait to eat every bit of your lovely body, Uruwashi.”

Dazed still, Tristan’s eyes closed a little longer than he should have let them. He knew if let the vampire hit him like that one more time like that then it was lights out.

God, and where the fuck is Yuki? Bitch can’t help, just a little? And Ash… is she—

Someone groaned, reminding him to open his eyes. He blinked up at Malik, that weight pressing down on top of him. The vampire had something sticking out of his throat. It was the tip of a finely honed Japanese tantō. Ash leaned over so that Tristan could see her and the dark sneer. Between them, Malik’s pale eyes were wide as if he couldn’t believe that’d happened.

With a growl that raised all the hair on Tristan’s body, Ash laced her fingers into Malik’s messy mane and jerked his head back. Malik lost his balanced and ended up on his hip on the ground next to Tristan. Free finally, Tristan slipped away while Ash positioned herself against Malik’s side, pulling the blade out of the back of his neck. She flipped the tantō in her grip and pressed the blade to the front of his throat.

“Do you have anything to say,
Master
, before I slit your throat?”

He blinked back at her, wide-eyed, as shocked as she’d ever seen him. He suddenly grinned. “You think…” He had to swallow down his own blood as it pooled up from his quickly healing neck. “You think this little wound will kill me? That I cannot stop you from slitting my throat? Asta, you truly disapoin—” He ended with a gasp as his chest burst into pain and slowly turned to look behind him.

Tristan, unable to support himself anymore collapsed against Malik’s back, fingers held tight to the katana. “No, but together, we can stop you, fucking jerk.”

Malik looked down to the place on his chest where Tristan had twisted the blade around, cutting a big hole in the undead’s heart. He looked up again and met Ash’s eyes, his own softening into a look she’d never seen before. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but then with a cry and a flick of the wrist, Ash cut deep into his throat. She cut so deep her Master couldn’t even scream.

Tristan gasped and fell back as the vampire toppled over onto the grass, coming face to face with him from a foot away. Ash flung herself over his side, and upside-down, buried her face into the front of his bleeding neck.

Malik and the last Uruwashi met eyes in a moment overwhelmed by the sound of Ash sucking the life from her misguided Master. Amazement and something close to sorrow filled those purple eyes. His white brow pinched together as his frown deepened. The realization of his death was written clearly across his face. It was not a look befitting to the monster that had destroyed so much.

Tristan sneered at him and whispered, “You got what you deserved.”

With a look of understanding and a slow blink, Malik’s eyes closed for the last time.

“Wait,” Tristan rasped, feeling faint all of the sudden. “My mother… Masuyo, did you kill her? Malik! Tell me, did you kill her!”

The vampire was gone. Tristan’s victory tasted bad in his mouth. It could have been his own blood, or the knowledge that he might never know what happened to his mother. With a small gasp, Ash sat up, mouth dripping with blood, some of it congealed as Malik’s vampiric body tried to heal the wound and failed.

“Yes.”

“What?” Tristan asked, attention snapping to Ash.

“Yes,” she said again, louder. “I… I saw her death. I am sorry, Tristan.” She saw a great many things that did not make sense to her. Clues she would leave for Tristan to help him find himself.

He sighed and shut his eyes. Guess he knew that it was inevitable with the crazy vampire. Ash grunted a strange noise and Tristan opened his eyes just in time to see Malik’s head separated from his body. She gave a little harrumph, said a few actual curses in her native tongue and gave the headless body a swift kick.

“It’s over,” Tristan whispered as he rolled over to his side. He realized that his body stopped hurting long ago. It might have been lingering effects of the pain potion. But he thought really it had more to do with dying. Ah, but it wouldn’t be so bad to die now, here.