“Subarashii,” he whispered, admiring a sword that looked like it’d seen too many years and too little care. He unsheathed it to check the blade. “This was mine once…”
Tristan frowned. “Then keep it, I don’t need it.”
Wren bowed his head and slipped the blade back into its case, whispering an overly polite thanks in Japanese.
“Ready then?” Tristan asked, handing the gun Wren denied over to the fae. Lance balked and Tristan wiggled it at him again. “Just in case, it would make me feel better leaving you alone anyway. There’s no way she doesn’t already know we’re here and while I think I’m the only one on her shit list, it’ll still make me feel better. Besides, she doesn’t know Malik is dead. I don’t know how messed up her memory is, she might not know either of you.”
Wren was nodding. “Please, take the gun, my friend, and ease my concern as well.”
Lance sighed and took it, holding it the way one would if they’d found someone else’s underpants in their personal belongings. “For you, Wren, okay.”
“Yes, now,” Wren said to Tristan while smiling at the fae. “Let’s go.”
Tristan took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Nope, didn’t feel any better. Maybe a few more of those to make him lightheaded might work. Loaded up with two katana, two guns and four knives didn’t make him feel any better either. This was Ash, not some rogue vampire they were hunting. Trouble was, Ash was a Master and while she seemed calm and collected, she had a temper and strong opinions under it all. How the hell was he going to convince her that drinking a strange potion was better than just ripping his fucking throat out?
“Any suggestions?” Tristan asked in a low voice, standing at the bottom of the front stoop, staring up at the glass and wood door.
Wren seemed to think about it a moment, staring off at nothing as he played with the end of his braid. It was still a pleasant shock to see the man with his hair away from his face, baring the smooth, magicked skin with pride. Even his eyes matched now, both dark brown.
The vampire sighed, starting up the steps. “We try to reason with her. Although, she has proven tenacious in the past. At least if I’m with you, it will go better than last night. That is, if she does remember me.”
“God, I hope so,” he muttered and knocked on the door. Sure, he was walking up with all his weapons showing, but he wanted to be polite and knock, even if it was his own home.
“If it comes down to it,” Wren whispered, moving a little closer, putting himself in front of the sidelight. “You distract her and I’ll get as much of the spell into her as possible.”
With a nervous little cough, Tristan shuffled out of the vampire’s way. Even as a vanilla, Wren’s presence tickled the Uruwashi in Tristan, for better or worse. “Sounds like it’d be a bit like wrestling a rhino doped up on LSD, but fine.”
He tensed when he felt a presence move towards him, but not the one he was expecting. Even so, he couldn’t let go of his tension and his shoulders were tight when the front door opened and then filled in by the huge outline of Tristan’s least favorite anything.
“Desmond,” he sighed and gently pushed Wren to stand behind him, just in case. “Is it wrong that I’m a little happy to see you?”
The big vampire crossed his arms over his chest, brow pinched and eyes narrowed.
“What? Nothing to say?” He glanced beyond the hulking size of the vampire into the home for any signs of Ash. Looked nice inside, real nice. “No snippy come back?”
Still nothing.
“How’s Ash, is she doing okay? Has she remembered anything yet?”
Wren put a hand on the small of Tristan’s back, a timid touch, as if in question.
Tristan frowned, putting a hand to his stomach and backed up into Wren. “You… you’re not Desmond.”
The vampire before them grunted and then the image of a large Scotsman trickled away, leaving only Ash standing there, looking like her Master self, wearing an aura to look the way she was when Tristan had met her. The mantle of Desmond’s vampiric presence melted away, leaving just Ash, wearing the same jeans and black tee.
Damn, Innokentiy must have taught her that too. How… terrible.
“My, I am impressed,” she said, still looking sour as she stared at him. “I do not know how you could tell, but that makes you a danger, you realize.”
He let out a shaky breath and tried to mask it with a laugh. “More than you know. Look, can we come inside?”
Her attention went to Wren and then back to Tristan, flinching when she noticed Murasaki Kaeru on his hip. Her jaw tightened as she forced her eyes up to his. “Why?”
“To talk. I need you to understand things.”
“No.” She dropped her arms and Tristan’s hand twitched, automatically moving for a weapon. “I understand that I should have killed you last night. No one touches me like that.”
Tristan flinched back at the venom in her words. “No, you’re not a killer, Ash. We both know it. Let’s just talk, okay? It doesn’t hurt to talk.”
Wren called out, he must have, but the only thing Tristan could hear was the roar of panic. His whole body shook with an impact that knocked the breath from him and then the disorientation of rolling. When he fell still, he was in a throbbing pile of pain, lying on the stone driveway.
“You seek to betray me with the Uruwashi!” she screamed at Wren from the top of the steps.
“Ow,” he muttered, sitting up and wincing when the sting of a gash on his left palm zinged through him. “Ash! Just listen!”
She looked up from where she had Wren pinned on the porch. The vampire was calm but he was telling Tristan with his eyes to be careful. The vampire had the spell. Now it was up to Tristan to be the distraction.
“Okay,” he muttered under his breath, eyes locked with Ash. With a slow sigh out, he let go of the safeguards on his mind. Ash flinched when she noticed, but then narrowed her eyes on him cynically. “There,” he said to her. “My mind is yours again. I’m all yours, Ash. I’ve always been.”
He was remembering how they met again then of their time in France and the fear he felt when he thought she’d died. He thought about Yuki and her constant meddling, about Desmond and their bullshiting each other, and Lilith and how she frightened him, yet he felt drawn to her metaphysically and the things she showed him before they left Japan two nights ago. Of Mother and his role in stopping her.
“That—” Ash stopped, her expression full of fear. “How could you possibly know any of that? Did Yukihime put you up to this?”
He smiled sadly at her, pulling his legs up to his chest, still sitting where he’d landed in the driveway. The night creatures were chirping and singing again, giving the landscape a soothing melody. “It’s all the truth, Ash. You were spelled last night. It’s why you can’t remember me.”
She glanced down at Wren. “That is impossible,” she said more to Tristan than the vampire under her as she studied his face, probably delved into his mind for an acceptable truth.
“Don’t you wonder why you have to use your aura to look like the Master that you are? How you know how to emulate Desmond’s presence?”
Her head snapped up to look at Tristan and he smiled at her.
“You’re using your aura right now because without it, you look human again. But you’re still a Master inside. Genoveva did that to you.”
Ash’s eyes widened and her grip on Wren all but let go. “Genoveva…,” she whispered. “How do you know that name?”
“The same way I know about Innokentiy and that he taught you how to shift your presence to feel like Desmond. Actually, I’m impressed. You never said what all the stuff was he taught you. But it wasn’t perfect, your illusion or whatever. I still felt you through it, faintly.”
Ash’s expression shifted and Tristan knew they were about to lose ground. Then Wren was on Ash, slamming her down on the landing. By the time Tristan reached the top, taking the steps two at a time, Wren had his fingers in her mouth, t
rying to pry her lips open and keep her pinned under him. A rush of gathering seikonō from Ash made Tristan gasp and he snatched the vial from the ground beside Wren.
“Please, Ash!” The vampire cried out, desperation and pain in his voice. “I’m trying to help you!”
She growled, crunching down on his fingers to break a few. Wren screamed and Tristan felt the first brush of something sharp across his cheek, smelled the earth as it swirled around him.
“Fuck, Ash!” Tristan popped the cap, watched it bounce off Ash’s cheek and then pushed the vile between Wren’s broken fingers into her mouth. She thrashed, shaking her head back and forth but Wren had managed to cover her mouth at the expense of the skin from his fingers before she could spit it out.
“Swallow!” Tristan screamed, voice cracking in strain as he felt the seikonō she’d loosened sharpen to focus on him. It would be a kill shot if she got it off and he prayed for them both that the spell worked fast.
All at once, everything fell silent. The breath left Tristan in a shuddering sigh. “A—Ash?”
Wren rolled off Ash to perch on his haunches at her side, frowning and clutching his ruined hand behind the other against his chest, but all of the tension was gone from his body.
Ash’s breath hitched and she shut her eyes, shaking her head back and forth against the ground. The moment her eyes shut completely, the aura she’d been using slipped away, revealing her dark hair. She swallowed hard, ran her tongue over her teeth and opened her eyes, fixing her bright blue eyes with Wren and then Tristan.
“Jesus Christ,” Tristan swore. The relief was like a thick blanket just out of the dryer wrapped around him and Tristan collapsed on his ass, running his hand over his hair. “Wren?”
The vampire held up his hand. Three of his fingers were raw and bloody red but Tristan could tell that he had more skin on them than Ash had taken off. He slapped him lightly on the back. “You’ll live, dude—hey, you did great.”
Wren harrumphed but was obviously relieved it was done. Only time would tell now just how the spell actually turned out.
“Thank you,” Ash croaked and the men both snapped to attention on her. “Both of you.”
Wren only nodded his acceptance, getting up and going inside to give them some privacy.
“I don’t know about you,” Tristan said as leaned forward, climbing over her legs. “But I’m getting fucking tired all of these pythia spells.”
Ash laughed softly, tilting her head as if to kiss him. “As am I.” She licked her lips, eyes narrowing a little. “That was your blood in there, wasn’t it? Who made it?”
Tristan wasn’t surprised she could taste it, there was a hell of a lot of his blood in the spell. “Wren mostly. Lance helped and I just gave moral support. Oh, right and my blood.”
She was frowning, the thoughts passing over her faster than Tristan could read. One thing was sure, she was troubled over something. And worst of all, she wouldn’t talk about it until she was ready.
“And my book?”
“Uh, shit, sorry, we left it at the house. It should be safe though, no one really knew we were there anyway. I haven’t heard, seen or felt the twins since last night.”
“Your parent’s place?”
He nodded and Ash bit into her lip, thinking hard again on something.
“Is Desmond with you?” Wren asked suddenly, startling her from her thoughts.
“Ah… yes. He is—” She stopped suddenly, a look of astonishment passing over her. Silent, she stood and went to Wren who as standing just inside the foyer. She stopped close to him and took his face into her hands. She must have felt the scars but didn’t let on. “Look at you. Beautiful as ever.”
“Thank you. And to Tristan for the gift.” He lifted the talisman out of his clothing but made sure to keep it touching skin.
“Where did that come from?”
“I took it off Castor,” Tristan said. “The twins were using it to look like vanilla vampires. Lance guessed that it rolls back a percentage of age rather than a set time frame since it made me look like I was ten.”
Ash’s eyebrow arched. “I see. Well, yes… Desmond is inside, locked in the basement cell. He made me… angry.”
Wren only nodded, turning to go in, but Tristan flinched. “The what?”
She smiled and stepped into him, slipping her arms around him. “Come inside.”
“I’ll tend to my Master now, if you don’t mind.” Wren bowed and excused himself.
Tristan simply nodded and Ash slipped her fingers into his. They turned and waved to Lance, letting him know everything was okay. From his seat behind the wheel of the van, he smiled and waved but was obviously engrossed in a telephone call so they went inside without waiting on him.
“Wow,” Tristan said as they emerged from the front foyer into a huge open kitchen. The actual kitchen itself was set up a step and designed to be featured on television show. All shiny new appliances, rich quartz counter tops and deep espresso wood. The fridge alone was big enough for two Tristan’s to walk right into. A center island had a row of leather and metal barstools with their backs to the front of the house. A formal dining room with a mini bar resided just across the way, tall windows lining the front wall, giving a perfect view of the lake.
“Garage?” Tristan asked, pointing to the door on the left-hand wall and Ash nodded. She pulled on his arm and took him to the right.
Tristan stopped, mouth dropping open in awe. Wren smiled over his shoulder as he descended the stairs to the basement, the same stairwell that cut the space between the kitchen and the two-story atrium. Floor to ceiling glass and skylights gave a huge view of the nighttime back yard.
“It’s… beautiful.”
When they first walked in, Tristan thought he smelled earth, now he knew why. The entire lowered area was filled with plants, potted flowers and trees, both small and huge. Many of the plants were flowering and some even looked like they had edible fruits.
Tristan walked up to a patio slider and stopped to admire the view. It was dark out but there were soft landscape lights all along the deck and leading down to a stone patio area with a fire pit. Beyond that, all he saw was the dark shapes of trees and… a barn?
He turned and smiled at Ash, and glanced around her at the modern-appointed sitting room complete with a huge stone fireplace, comfortable sofas with matching chairs and a baby grand piano. The windows faced the front like the dining room, but unlike the other room, they were a full two stories up.
Turning back the other way, there was another room on the other side of the atrium with glass walls but he couldn’t tell what sort of room it was from here.
“This is amazing, Ash.”
She smiled faintly. “Downstairs there is a hidden weapons room, two vampire proof cells, a gym and another room that I have not tasked yet. Upstairs there are three bedrooms with two baths and the master bedroom and bath, plus a laundry closet. There’s a pantry, half bath and library down that hall there.” She pointed past the wall that made up the kitchen. “And there.” She turned to point across the atrium to the other side of the house to the other glass walled room. “There is a television in that room.”
He smiled big and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re the best.” When she leaned into him, he pulled her against him, wrapping her up in his arms. “Hey,” he said softly. “How are you? Are you okay?”
“Ashamed,” she said, reaching up to touch the big bruise that’d blossomed on his face. Outside of his friends mentioning it this morning, he barely noticed it he was so busy. I stopped throbbing by the time he’d woken from his nap. “But unharmed.”
He sighed, turning his face into her touch. She was cool and that eased his conscious. The seikonō she tried to pull outside was whatever reserves she held and not at the expense of some stranger she might have attacked in her altered state. “And your mind?”
She blinked at him a few times in thought and then, without warning, thoughts not his own, emotions and even fast
-forward images bombarded Tristan. Just as he felt overwhelmed, they ceased. He knew without asking that they’d all belonged to Ash. They were every single memory and emotion she felt since the night they met face-to-face. She remembered him completely, not a single moment missing.
Feeling a little breathless with the push of memories, Tristan’s voice was husky as he asked, “Was that one of the things Innokentiy taught you?”
She nodded slightly. “I am sorry for attacking you. Are you okay?”
“You know, its fine, Ash. I’m fine, you’re fine. I’m just glad no one got hurt. I really wasn’t ready to fight you, you know… or stop that seikonō you were building up to. Jesus, you meant serious business out there.”
She bowed her head. “I thought you were an Uruwashi. Sworn enemy, and yet, that also saved your life because I remembered Mamoru. Honestly,” She looked him in the eye. “I think that memory was the only thing that keep me from killing you outright.”
“You didn’t believe me when I let you hear my thoughts purposefully.”
“No. How could I? I am used to being lied to.”
He nodded. “Fair enough.”
Ash offered him a wry smile and led them through the atrium, reaching out with her free hand to touch the plants in passing. The living room was down a step from the main walkway and dark. The right and forward walls were all windows, fitted with solar shades that were all open. To the left was a large black leather sectional sofa and a huge flat screen television mounted on the wall.
Smiling, Tristan went over to the windows and looked out into the back yard. There was a crisp white slat fence and beyond that a much clearer view of the barn poking out from behind a grove of trees.
“The occupancy permit was signed today. It’s all ours now. Horses come next week,” Ash said as she passed him by, running her hand along his hip. She was in a touchy-feely mood tonight and Tristan sighed, turning to watch her as she sunk into the sofa, wedged comfortably in a corner.
“The… twins,” Tristan said tentatively, noting the subtle change in her guarded expression. That and something hitched in his belly from whatever Wren and Desmond were doing downstairs. Anger, he thought. “They got away after—Do you remember anything from before waking up in the car with me?”
Primal Burdens: (The Uruwashi Series #5) Page 8
