Bete Noire

by Christina Moore

  The moment was gone when a hand laced through his hair and jerked his head back. Lips touched his ear and whispered, “You see that. You see how Master treats those he likes? Just how do you think he will treat you tomorrow when it’s your turn? Hmm? He doesn’t even like you.”

  Across the way, Lucien was showing Ash the Pear of Anguish, asking her opinion on the options of insertion. The hand in Tristan’s hair let go and then plunged down the back of his pants, grabbing a handful of his ass. Tristan stiffened, eyes going wide.

  “You see how he loves her, your vampire? I’m going to show you that same kindness, perhaps more. All you have to do is cooperate…”

  “No!” Tristan moaned out behind his gag. He wasn’t sure if the fae could even understand but Tristan was laughed at by both men.

  Lucien muttered something about Tristan having his own fire as he worked on Ash. Tristan couldn’t even hear the other man, but Sebastian clearly had. “I hate this American as I admire his tenacity. He never quits. Having a nice body, that’s just a bonus. I want to see how far I can stretch his will before he breaks.”

  Lucien jerked the knife from Ash’s belly and tossed it nonchalantly over his shoulder. “My dear fae, you really are the masochist.”

  “Moi?” Sebastian gave a grunt and kicked Tristan to his back, eyes going down the man’s naked chest to stop on his groin. He remembered the glimpse of cock he saw when he first met the couple, entangled in their passionate conquest. He remembered coveting that rod of flesh and shivered at the idea of being impaled upon it.

  Sebastian smiled and answered, “Perhaps so.”

  Tristan’s shoulders protested at the weight of his own body crushing them with his arms pinned behind him. If he didn’t move soon he was sure he’d end up dislocating one or both shoulders. Sebastian grinned down at him. Then with a groan the fae tossed the whip aside just long enough to remove the lace fly on Tristan’s leather pants.

  “Perhaps once Master is done with it, he will permit us to use that lovely Pear. I think, monsieur Uruwashi, you may enjoy it.”

  Sudden clarity on this “kindness” that Sebastian was talking about hit Tristan and he started to thrash, kicking and flopping around like a grounded fish. The struggled only ended up pissing off the fae and getting himself hit in the face again. Dazed, he couldn’t fight as Sebastian ripped the sweaty, tight pants off him. It felt good to get out of them but what that small relief could mean…

  Hands were touching him all over now.

  “Mon Dieu,” the owner of this pinching fingers whispered, “what a magnificent man you are.”

  Tristan’s eyes rolled back, small moans leaving him. He could barely keep himself conscious. But he had to. He had to try and stop this from happening. He had to kill the faerie and vampire and save Ash. It was a tall order, one he didn’t know how to fill at the moment.

  “You aren’t listening!” Sebastian shouted and then the sharp sting of the whip bit into Tristan’s chest.

  He curled up and rolled over just to get away from the pain, not thinking of the position he was leaving himself in. The movement was also too much for his aching, over-stretched shoulder muscles and he screamed into the gag as his left shoulder popped. Through the fog of pain he could hear Ash. Just dappled fragments of her pain, but he heard her and something in him died. He tried to lift up to see her but he was kicked again and then whipped until he was a shaking ball of agony curled up on the filthy dungeon floor. At a loss there was only one thing he could think of to do now. It was cowardly and selfish but he was truly at a loss.

  He was giving up.

  He grunted loudly, trying to from words around the ball gag. When he opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at Sebastian, he froze. There was a man standing over him, hair slicked with sweat making his pointy fae ears stand out, eyes full of fire and not a stitch of clothing. The man looked like Sebastian, a man Tristan thought he knew. But this man, this Sebastian doppelganger standing over him now was not the same fae from days or even moments ago. This man was a predator, mad with bloodlust and a desire to do harm.

  Tristan swallowed hard and couldn’t keep his gaze from traveling down. Sebastian was hard and ready to... well, ready to keep his promise. Tristan had to act now. He tried to talk again and just as he had hoped, Sebastian knelt in front of him to take off the gag.

  “Oui?”

  Tristan flexed his jaw, letting the pool of saliva just trail down his chin and cheek as he tried to get in a good breath of air that didn’t taste like plastic and blood.

  “I just...” he said breathlessly, licking his lips between gasps. “I just wanted... wanted to tell you...” He looked Sebastian in the eye and smirked. “You have a small dick, dude.”

  Sebastian smirked back, just as dark and angry. He pushed Tristan to his back and shoved a knee into his solar plexus, making him gasp and wince. “Hmm…” the fae hummed, considering Tristan through half-lidded cynical eyes. “We cannot all be so gifted as you, monsieur Hunter. Cependant…” He took his knee off of Tristan’s chest and straddled him, keeping himself suspended over him as he leaned down, face-to-face. “It is more than plenty to do what I want with you.”

  Tristan gritted his teeth as Sebastian lapped at Tristan’s chin. It took everything in him to not lash out. He didn’t have the strength to but if what he had planned worked, it wouldn’t matter. He felt terrible, taking the easy way out, leaving Ash to fend for herself, but he was lost. Scared, angry and helpless. What else could he do?

  “It is okay, Tristan.”

  He gasped, eyes widening at Ash’s soft voice. Lucien was mocking her now in falsetto but Tristan didn’t even hear the words. Ash had given him her approval. She had told him it was okay. He still felt like a coward.

  “It is okay,” she repeated softly. “Do it… Please, do it.”

  He shut his eyes when his vision finally blinked out and smiled, saying a silent thank you to Ash. “Fine then... fuck away... Elf.”

  There was a roar of anger and then his head was being smashed into the stone floor. The pain left as fast as it hit him and then there was nothing but quiet and peace. The culmination of his scheming and cowardice were his only respite now.

  23: Love Hurts

  COLD, familiar hands were touching his back. He was rocked back and forth and he groaned. Tristan’s head felt like someone filled it with water—thick, rancid, black water full of piranha trying to eat his brain matter. This was worse than any drinking binge he’d ever been on. He tried to open his eyes but couldn’t. His eyes, they hurt. He hurt.

  A soft voice whispered nearby, “By the Goddess...”

  Those cold hands pushed him again and he was rolled over to his back gently, though he felt like he’d just been shoved into a dryer. He groaned feeling something burn inside his stomach, up his throat, into his mouth. He opened his mouth to let the fire out as the cold hands pushed him to his side and stroked his back gently while he retched.

  Sometime during his stomach emptying routine, his left eye finally opened. The right eye felt hot and swollen hanging on his face the size of a golf ball and refused to open. He was rolled onto his back again and he came face to face with an angel. Flowing hair spun of silken fibers, the color of pale ash cascaded around him. Clear purple eyes, eyes full of concern, stared into his. His view of was upside down, but it didn’t make her any less stunning.

  “Tenshi...,” he whispered, mesmerized.

  Her eyes widened for a moment and then she chuckled softly. “How do you know that word?”

  Tristan blinked his one good eye up at the beautiful creature, frowning as he tried to think. “What’s it mean?”

  She smiled sadly. “Angel.” When she saw his confused look she supplemented, “It is Japanese.”

  “Oh...” He knew some Japanese. Who knew? He shut his good eye again, trying to think. “Mmm, a little girl, crazy shit... she’s Japanese. She calls me danshi… or something.”

  “Ryōshi-san.”

  “Ye
s!” he gasped and opened his eye again. “Hunter,” he said with a deep, childlike frown.

  The angel stared down at him, her soft fingers stroking the stubble on his cheek. She rather liked the roughness of his beard coming in, it was wholly different than the soft, smooth bodies all vampire possessed. “What were you dreaming about?”

  He blinked at her, distracted for a moment. He saw her fangs when she spoke, but he wasn’t afraid. How could he be afraid of someone so beautiful? The thought that she was dangerous never even crossed his mind. “Huh?”

  “Just now, you were talking to someone. You were dreaming. What was it?”

  He heaved a heavy sigh, shutting his eye. “Don’t know, something tasted… iron and vampires, there was a vampire… big bad… something. God, I don’t know, I can’t—my head… fucking kills.”

  “Are you okay?”

  He looked up to her again and touched her face, wishing she wouldn’t frown so. It was a horrible look for her fragile features. He wanted her to smile.

  She’s so amazing when she smiles.

  “No.” He started to shake his head, but stopped when his brain sloshed against his skull. Or at least that’s what it felt like to him. His brain was loose and just twirling around in there in the ooze, right? “No.” He frowned deeper and mumbled, “My ass hurts.”

  She dropped her shoulders, relaxing a little. “You are very severely hurt, Tristan. You have more than a concussion.”

  “I do?” His head was in his ass?

  The angel leaned over him, hugging his head more securely into the crook of her arm. Her breast grazed his face and he realized she was naked. “I reset your shoulder for you, but you have an intracerebral hemorrhage.” She dragged her nose with a feather touch along his temple. “I cannot fix you here, like this.”

  “You smell good,” he whispered.

  She sighed and gave him a look that was borderline annoyed. Truly, she was touched. She knew what she smelled like at the moment and good wasn’t a word he would have used if he hadn’t known what her true scent was like. “I am being serious.”

  He sighed. “So am I.” He frowned. “I don’t feel good.”

  “Your brain is bleeding. Another hit and it may kill you, Tristan. Please promise me you will not do that again. Do not to provoke Lucien or the faerie anymore.” She kissed him lightly on the forehead. “Do you understand what I am saying?”

  “I’m not even sure who you are.” Or this faerie she was talking about. Did they have something to do with his ass hurting?

  Oh man.

  She laughed softly, sending a shiver of excitement through him with the power of her voice. “Of course you know who I am.” She grabbed his face into her cold, cold hands and leaned over him. He watched her eyes, mesmerized by their brilliance.

  My god, what a truly stunning creature she is.

  She pressed her lips to his, soft and plush. She tasted good and familiar under his mouth. Shock tingled through his body. Something in the pit of his stomach roared to life. A cold fire sent tingling desire through his limbs. It felt so damn good. He moaned and worked his lips under hers, teasing hers open. He knew this feeling inside him. He knew what she was.

  Vampire…

  He moaned again only to frown when she pulled away. She smiled at him, upside down; it filled her eyes with a special light meant all for him. “Welcome back, Tristan,” she whispered.

  “Oh, Ash,” he whispered, “what’s wrong with me?” He put a hand to his head. Everything was foggy like there was cotton stuffed into his head. A lot of fucking cotton. Only one eye worked. Tentatively he touched fingers to his right eye to find the skin hot and swollen shut.

  “You provoked Sebastian into hitting you hard enough to knock you out. You have a concussion, your brain is bleeding. Tristan, do you understand? You will die if you allow him to hurt you like that again.”

  He nodded slightly. He understood. He remembered how he kept calling Sebastian an elf to piss him off enough to hit him. There was no way he wanted to be conscious when the fae decided to take his virtue by way of... well, yeah. Besides his virgin ass, there was Ash. He couldn’t bear to watch Lucien hurting her any longer. And he wasn’t able to do shit to help her. He was powerless. Weak. Worthless. Oh god, he was such a fucking coward.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” he whispered as his eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry I was a coward.”

  “Shhh,” she comforted him. She saw what happened to him after he was knocked out and she was glad he’d brought it upon himself, even if he was in a precarious state now. Sebastian was an angry man and took all of that pent up rage out on Tristan’s unconscious body. Had he been awake when Sebastian did that to him… Tristan might not have ever of recovered. She was thankful he didn’t know of the horrors he’d been through and would take the truth of this night to her grave. “Everything is fine. You are fine. I am fine. We will find our way free from here… somehow.”

  “Yeah... But—no. You were stabbed.” He tried to sit up, but Ash put a firm hand onto his chest and held him down.

  “Look.” She took his hand and placed it against her chest. There was nothing but smooth skin. “See. Healed.” She secretly cringed to herself. The chest and stomach wounds had indeed healed. It was the damage to her back that would take longer to heal. And her missing toes would take weeks to regrow. She bit into her lip, pulling her foot under Tristan’s leg so he couldn’t see the mess that it was.

  Tristan let out the breath he was holding and looked at the hand he had pressed to her chest. He let his fingers slip away, revealing to his eyes what he felt. Smooth, perfect, unblemished skin. Not even a scar. “How?”

  She chuckled, her bosom vibrating with the laugh. He groaned a happy noise and looked up to her face again. She smiled sweetly. “Vampire.”

  No shit. “How long?” he asked, fighting off a long blink, his one good eye trying to force itself shut.

  “Not long. Only morning. Dawn is not far off.” She screwed her face up into anger. “Lucien decided since it was Christmas and since I… I behaved kindly, he would be kindly in return.”

  “I’m sorry he hurt you again.”

  She shut her eyes tightly for a moment and then opened them again, smiling down at him. “I am still alive. I survived him once before, I can do it again.”

  “You’re strong. We’re stronger together and we’ll kick his ass. Both of ‘em.” The smile that spread across Tristan’s face was childlike and simple, but it made Ash’s own widen broadly. “Why are your teeth so pretty?”

  Ash flinched back. She hadn’t heard the thought before he spoke it. “Pardon?”

  “Your teeth, they’re so—I don’t know, didn’t people back in old times all have bad teeth?” He shut his eye, it was too much work to hold it open. “Yours are so perfect.”

  She sighed, looking down at him wistfully. No matter how many times she saw it, she was always amazed at the way the human mind worked when the body was close to death. Thought focused into a simple clarity, the way children thought. “In older times, yes, humanity had very poor hygiene, yellow, chipped and missing teeth... That is why vampires usually pulled the teeth of the human they were trying to turn before putting them in their coffins.”

  Tristan’s eye popped open, the swollen one still unable to. “What? They pulled their teeth out?”

  “Every last one.”

  “And they grew back while they were dying, transforming, whatever?”

  “Yes.”

  “All to have nice teeth?”

  Ash nodded.

  Tristan frowned, nose scrunching up. He was rambling and a little delirious, but Ash didn’t mind so long as she could keep him awake. If he fell asleep now, he might not wake again.

  He shivered and only was just aware that he was completely naked. “Did it hurt?”

  Her shoulders dropped. “I cannot remember.” That was a lie, but hadn’t they been through enough already? “Do you really want to spend our time talking ab
out my teeth?”

  His frown deepened. “Before, why did you try to push me away?” She slumped and looked away. “No,” he said, reaching up to touch her cheek. It took him three tries to find her face with one good eye and blurry vision. “Look at me… Ash, please.”

  She sighed and looked him in the eye. Her mouth worked, flashing fangs, though no a sound came out. She shut her mouth and pressed her lips into a thin line as she thought.

  Finally she said, “I was not trying to push you away.”

  “I call bullshit.” His voice was soft, but the passion in those words still held weight.

  She looked at him a long moment, trying to decide how to answer him. In the end, she decided it was time for the truth, because if they didn’t make it out alive, she’d never get the chance again. She owed it to them both. “I was frightened. Frightened of you. Frightened of us... of how I felt about you.”

  Her eyebrows rose high as she fought back tears and his heart skipped a beat or two at her words. She shook her head, shutting her eyes and looking away to hide her face from him.

  “I live in fear every day, being with you. I want to be with you more than anyone and yet—Fear of the future, of when others of my kind discover you live… Yukihime says I am foolish. She rather likes you but wants me to kill you—not true death, but make you what you are meant to be. She says I am selfish for denying you what your very blood wants. But I cannot...” Her lip trembled and a pale red tear finally spilled over.

  “This was never about bite me or I’ll leave, Ash. I’m with you because I want to be, because I, I’m…” He sighed and caught a single red tear from Ash on his fingertip and started to pull it to his mouth. She stopped him with strong fingers around his wrist and brought his hand to her mouth instead.

  “No, I know,” she said softly before sucking her tear from his finger.

  He sighed, relaxing into the crook of her elbow. “You know, I’d rather you’d of killed me for good to the things you said when we got here.”