Before he met Ash, he would have said his mom was the strongest woman he knew. He still considered her to be strong, but Ash was on another level. She had endured a lifetime under Malik’s hand. He knew from very recent past experience with the Master vampire that his rule was a harsh one. The fact that Ash survived that rule was impressive. And after hearing just a tiny glimpse of her past just now—locked in a cell, out of favor with Malik—he knew the hardships were probably worse than he could ever imagine.
He was staring to understand why Yuki was the way she was, really understand. The human mind, vampiricly enhanced or not, was never meant to live as long this. Age, social pressures, physical trials, personal battles, they all added up over the long years and the toll was heavy.
Tristan licked his lips, opened his mouth and started talking, still not entirely sure what he was going to say. “You have a strength that no other person I’ve ever known has. You overcome every obstacle placed before you, even if you grit your teeth the whole way. You persevere at the cost of your own mental and physical health. You care more about others than yourself. Despite whatever may have happened to you in the past, you struggle daily to be the person you want to be, even if it’s against the nature of the creature you’ve been made into. You killed your own Master, a man you admitted to once loving that in-turn only betrayed and hurt you.” He shook his head. “I don’t know anyone else like you. I don’t have anywhere near your strength.”
Ash’s pale eyebrows raised high, her face covered in sorrow, bottom lip quivering slightly. “Tristan,” she whispered. “You think, just because I tell you a little story, a glimpse of one night out of many, you think you understand? You do not even begin to comprehend what I have lived through. The life I have endured.”
Tentatively, he reached out. When she didn’t pull away, he took her into his arms. She remained stiff in his hold and he wanted to take away everything that hurt her, wrap her up in himself and keep her warm and secure forever. “Then tell me,” he said softly. “Tell me about you. It’s okay, you can trust me.”
She let out a long breath and relaxed, rubbing her check against his chest making his heart flutter. “I do. I trust you more than anyone.”
He leaned over her letting his hair brushed across hers, dark mixing with light. “You’re all I have now, Ash.”
She leaned back to look up into his eyes. “I—you do not understand. You do not know the things I have seen, done…” Her voice was a horse whisper as she said, “Such horrible...”
“Hey.” He tightened his arms around her. “I’m a big boy, I can handle it.” Sure, he could handle it, but it was going to hurt. It was going to be a trial just listening to the words, the horrors of her life. But then, that’s what he was there for. That’s what couples were, there to help one another.
A smile emerged from nowhere, pulling one corner of Ash’s mouth up. “A couple, is it?”
He leaned closer, face hovering close to hers so that he couldn’t focus properly. “If you’ll have me.” And only me, he thought but decided to not say aloud.
“Yes,” she said softly, tilting her face up to his. “Yes, I will have you and only you.”
He closed the space between them and tentatively pressed his mouth to hers. She didn’t pull away, but like every other time she’d ever kissed him, she refused to open her mouth to him. She wanted to, more than anything, but couldn’t risk infecting Tristan. The last thing she wanted to do was accidently kill him in a fit of passion. Not the first to have found themselves to such fate at the hand of the vampire. Or at her own hands, or fangs, as it were.
“I really do care very much for you, Tristan, and want to be with you. I just ask… I ask for your understanding and patience.”
“No so good with being patient, darlin’.”
She smiled faintly. “I know. But please, just try? For me?”
“Anything. I’ll give you anything you ever ask for.” And that was the blunt, honest truth. “When you’re ready, talk to me? Tell me everything?”
She huffed and pushed, releasing herself from his hold. She took a step back and tilted her face up to him, seriousness marring her elfin beauty. “You are worse than a woman,” she mumbled, annoyed as she bit at a fingernail.
He ignored her sarcastic remark rather well. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Who says I am afraid?” He gave her a look that said she was being silly and she started to pace an annoyed line in the small cabin again. “I am not afraid of you or what I have done.”
“Then you’re afraid of how I’ll react to these things you’ve done?”
She stopped and spun to face him, shocked. “No,” she whispered.
“That’s it isn’t it?” He took a challenging step towards her.
She started to shake her head.
He reached a hand out and touched her cheek gently with his fingertips. “Why? Do you think so little of me?”
“I...,” she whispered. Red lined her pale purple eyes, unshed vampiric tears, threatening to spill over. “I cannot lose you.”
He almost laughed, unable to imagine her doing anything to chase him away. “Ash, I’m not going anywhere. Haven’t you figured that out yet? If I were going to run away, screaming like a little girl, I would have done it the night you showed up at the club and killed that jikininki in front of me.” She relaxed and her expression fell with his words.
“I’m here until you’ve decided you’ve had enough of me,” he added, to try and lighten things a little. The air was horribly serious in here and he was not comfortable with it.
Ash made a small sound, half sob, half laugh and took his face into her cold hands. “I shall never have enough of you, Tristan.”
He gave her another kiss, more intense than the last. It was funny, until Ash he never considered such a simple, close-mouth, chaste kiss could mean so much. Guess it helped that it was shared with someone he liked… very much.
He slid a hand up into her hair, running the silk of it through his fingers. His other hand wandered and found the round firmness of her perfect little ass. He pulled her into him and she moaned against his mouth, her lips parting, just a breath. Her hands roamed about his waist until she found the edge of his pants and slipped icy fingers into the waistband, caressing his bare flesh, making him shiver against her.
He broke the kiss, meeting her intense eyes and gave her a wicked grin. “You know, there’s a bed in the back...you want to make our first time on a plane, mile high style?”
Ash sighed heavily and pushed him away, but she was smiling under her put-off expression. “We are not having sex on Yukihime’s plane.”
He grinned with a shrug. “Suit yourself.” Of course, he knew she’d never say yes. They couldn’t even share a real kiss.
“Besides,” she said so softly he almost didn’t hear her, “it reeks of Yukihime and Desmond back there.”
“Disgusting,” he muttered, picking up his drink to refill it. He was going to need a little something to help take the edge off. He wasn’t really an alcoholic anymore, but the propensity was there. It wouldn’t take much to throw him back into old habits again. Not much at all.
“We have much to do when we land.” Ash’s eyes went to the drink in his hand, looking annoyed. “Perhaps instead of a drink to muddle your senses you should get some sleep. It will be midnight in France when we arrive and then we have to get to work.”
“Right,” Tristan sighed and went back to his seat. He could only hope they didn’t have to spend a long time searching for the rogue vampire. But, knowing Tristan’s luck... Yeah, it was going to be a long night.
6: Head Down
There was a bible verse, one of the few Tristan knew, that said something about no rest for the wicked. But what was said about those who hunted the wicked? Well, Tristan would tell you, the phrase was true for the good guys too.
He rocked in and out of sleep for several, restless hours. He finally became so annoyed he decided to read his spoiled book
again. Ash sat silent and stiff next to him with little to nothing else to say while she read her own book. The tension leaked off of her, filling the air of the small cabin like a poison, suffocating him slowly. He chalked it up to nervousness, even though she said she was “fine” whenever he asked. Her idea of fine was hardly ever just that. Regardless, it made the last three hours of the flight feel like he was trapped in a cardboard box with a snake. A very pissed off poisonous snake.
It was only just after midnight when they landed in Paris. There was a private car waiting for them, a limo. The driver was unbelievably polite and spoke only French, but neither needed to understand the language to know he was trying to take them to the hotel. The pair climbed into the back and Ash immediately pushed the button to make the middle divider go up, giving them privacy.
Tristan took the bench seat with his back to the front of the car, stretching out his long legs. He was ready to be in a more open space, somewhere he didn’t feel so cramped. Ash was on the opposite seat, as far away from him as she could manage, staring out the window at the passing city lights. Her legs were curled underneath her, making the knee-length pencil skirt ride up, showing the lace tops of her black stockings. She looked stiff and uncomfortable, lost in deep thought.
After he’d taken a moment to admire the lovely bit of thigh showing, Tristan slipped off his seat, going to his knees on the floor and crossed the small space to her. She didn’t even notice him until he touched the back of her hand. She jumped so violently her forehead smacked into the window, leaving a tiny spider crack. She turned slowly to look at Tristan, the same shocked looked reflected in his expression.
“Hey,” he said softly, touching her forehead. “You okay?” She’d been pretty quiet since their conversation earlier on the plane, but this seemed more intense. There was something on her mind and he just couldn’t think what.
Ash grabbed for him all at once, one hand snatching his hand away from her face by the wrist, the other balling into the front of his shirt. He made a little surprised noise, but before he could ask what she was doing, she jerked him to her and buried her face into his neck.
The breath left him in a shaky sigh. “Hey um, Ash? I know I said I wanted to be bitten… but maybe this isn’t the—whoa!”
He was too distracted by the hand that suddenly grabbed his crotch to finish his sentence. Ash groped him through his dress slacks with expert fingers, her lips at his neck tasting lightly over his flesh, no hint of teeth, pointy or otherwise. He didn’t know what’d gotten into her, but as his body started to respond to her hand and lips, he didn’t give a shit.
Tristan gave a little moan and leaned into her, resting his free hand on the seat for support. She let go of his other hand and he reached down, finding the edge of her skirt. Ash shifted for him and her skirt loosened, riding up just a little more. He shut his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the caress of lips on his neck, the hand working him to erection as he slipped under her skirt. He slowly walked his fingers up until he found the lace of her stocking tops and then the slightly cool, bare skin of her inside thighs. Ash moaned, wiggling and urging his fingers on.
Not once in the two months that they’d been together had he touched the delicate space between her legs—save for the incident yesterday in the shower. Hell, it was the first time he’d even touched her legs. Normally, she wouldn’t even allow him to kiss her, much less touch. But now, now she was urging his fingers on with her moans and gentle writhing. The back of a limo in a foreign country was so not the right place to be getting intimate with a vampire for the first time, but well, Tristan had to take the moments when they came. He searched deeper with his fingers until they found the warm, soft hollow between her legs. He wiggled his fingers against panties she didn’t always bother with, trying to push into her. Ash’s hips responded, jerking into his hand.
“Ash,” Tristan whispered.
She flinched and looked up, her hand falling still. They both stared at each other, panting with the upwelling of lust. They had both wanted this and while Tristan didn’t push the want, he never did anything to dissuade it. Ash on the other hand worked hard to completely deny any physical need she felt for him. It was all she could do to ensure that she didn’t accidently kill him.
“Tristan, I…” Her eyes searched his face frantically for a moment and then she dove at him. He gave a soft oomph as he tumbled back, hitting the back of his head on the opposite seat as she fell on top of him. She gave a little moan and mashed her mouth to his, her fingers going deep into his hair to muse the carefully styled raven waves. He held her tightly to him, his hands groping at her backside frantically, trying to feel every bit of her before being denied again.
Just as she was parting her lips to open to him, she realized what she was doing and jerked her head away from his only to bury her face into his neck again. She could smell the warm sweetness of his Uruwashi blood under his skin. In truth, she could smell him without even being close enough to touch. Especially since Yuki’s visit last night. Ash still had a few words for the ancient vampire that would not be forgotten by the time they returned to Japan.
Tristan was just pulling the back of Ash’s satin top free of her skirt when the back door suddenly opened. The two stopped groping one another and looked up. From upside down Tristan saw his driver notice them in their passionate tangle across the floor and give a start, eyes turning away in modesty. But the man’s not-so-concealed smirk gave him away as he said something to the pair in French and motioned for them to exit.
Tristan huffed and looked up at Ash over him. “Guess we’re here,” he said softly.
Ash looked shocked for a moment and then smirked. “It would seem so.”
She started to get up but then Tristan stopped her, grabbing the sides of her head in his hands. He pulled her close and whispered, “Some vampire you are.”
She pinched his chest making him give a little “ow” in return and climbed off him.
Tristan sat up onto his knees and held out his hand. “Shall we?”
Ash smiled and nodded, letting him guide her out of the car and into the freezing Paris air. On his feet, Tristan stopped to make a quick adjustment and grinned when he saw their driver watching. The man knew exactly what the pair was doing in the back behind that dark panel. Tristan gave the driver a little shrug, smirking something fierce and slipped him two twenties, the only few he had left. He figured the guy could use U.S. money easier than Japanese yen anyway. Ash, having noticed the exchange of knowing smiles, made herself comfortable, snuggled in close under Tristan’s arm. He shivered and wished he had packed his winter coat for the trip since the thin business jacket was like wearing nothing.
“This it?” he asked with a nod of his head towards the massive building before them. The façade was white-grey stone and seven stories tall with iron worked balconies covered in cascading plants that must have been fake to survive the cold. It had an old world charm with simple modern updates, nestled in a row of older buildings.
Ash stopped to look around. The streets were busy despite the late hour, the winter air a welcoming balm to cool her excitement. The cobbled streets warbled under the pass of tires. About two miles to the east was the Palais Gariner. She knew it was impossible in their current situation, but she would have liked to catch an opera while they were in town. Just to the north, across the water, was the Eifel Tower. Maybe they could manage a quick visit there…
“Mhm,” Ash replied softly.
Under Ash’s lead, the two went inside. Tristan barely noticed the people, the strangers they passed on that brightly lit sidewalk. Tristan was still worked up from their little make-out session in the limo. Not to mention his Uruwashi blood was on fire tonight, much like last night. Only this time, he didn’t feel the need to devour Ash—not her blood anyway. He was definitely in control of himself this time. One top of that lingering excitement, Ash went tense again, like she’d been in the car before tackling him.
Ash’s high heels clicked s
harply on the pristine white marble of the lobby only to be interrupted by an occasional large modern-print rug. At the front desk, a large rounded structure with more white marble and dark stained wood, Ash slipped out from under Tristan’s arm. He felt instantly better, calmer.
“Good evening,” Ash said, allowing her natural Greek accent to come through. Of the three men behind the desk, the one closest to them instantly urked Tristan. It was the way he smiled at Ash. A slew of nasty thoughts intended for the man hit the front of Tristan’s brain and Ash shot him a quick warning look before turning her attention to the man. “We have a reservation. The name is Blum.”
Tristan sighed softly to himself and put his back to the desk as she checked in. Despite the late hour there were about half a dozen tourists loitering in the lobby. A middle-aged man in an expensive business suit, using his newspaper as cover, was eyeing Ash’s backside. The look on his face said he’d bet she’d taste good, like candy, if he could get a lick of her. When the man caught his eye, Tristan gave a nasty sneer, making him look away quickly.
He huffed and looked around to the other faces. Two other men, who were obviously staring at Ash, looked away too when his gaze fell on them. Tristan clenched his jaw and met eyes with a young brunette sitting close to the reception desk. She looked like a gypsy with her thick skirts, layered tops and big hoop earrings. She smiled coyly at Tristan behind a pair of smoked sunglasses. He returned her smile with his own weak one, not wanting to be rude and put his back to her before she decided to make anything of the greeting.
He looked to the man helping Ash, the one with the lewd smile. “Louis Moreau. Gérant, Directeur d'hôtel”, so said his gold nametag. The Directeur was smiling broadly, but it wasn’t a smile meant for Tristan. Nope, not for Tristan at all. He wanted to blind the guy just to keep him from looking at Ash like that.
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