Moon Child

by Christina Moore

  Ash stiffened, eyes darting to Mamoru’s. “That—”

  “He does,” Tristan whispered, trying to hug her tighter but couldn’t manage to make his body work. “In his own, weird way, he does. Almost as much as… I love you, Ash. You should have slept with me while you still had the chance. Should have bitten me before I died…” He licked his lips, leaving them dry and discolored. “You know, I used to be a good person.”

  “You still are.” She sounded like she even believed it.

  He snorted in difference. “You can’t believe that, not after all I’ve told you about me, what you’ve seen me do.”

  Ash exchanged a worried look with Mamoru. “I heard your words and I have seen your actions. You… you are a little lost, but not misguided. You mean well and that shows in your actions.”

  “No,” he breathed out, resting his forehead on her shoulder. “You don’t get it. I’ve killed a person… Four people. Shit, five if you count that bastard elf… They all deserved it too, except that fledgling kid in France, but fuck, I feel terrible about them all.”

  She frowned, knowing he meant Sebastian and not Silas when he said bastard elf. She also knew he couldn’t turn off his guilt and that it was a very active weight on his mind as of late. It was the one thing they shared in common, a strong conscious.

  “Those are serial killer numbers,” he whispered. “Good people don’t kill.”

  “They were shinwa.”

  “And that makes it okay?” His fingers at her waist tightened, though he couldn’t feel them anymore. “I killed them.”

  She sighed, stroking the bare spot at the back of his neck where his hair parted. Her eyes welled against her will. “You cannot live by human law anymore, Tristan. You…” She choked back a sob, the words threatening to poison her. It broke her heart that they were true whether she spoke them or not. “You never were human to start with.”

  He sighed, the fingers at her waist opening and his weight shifting to force her to take it all or lose him into the water. He turned his face to the side so that he could nuzzle her neck. “I tried so hard. I never lied to you, not ever. I tried so hard to get you to trust.”

  “Tristan,” she said in a soft, shaky voice.

  “I know now, after Godzilla showed me. I get it, I really do.” His sigh made him slump down further. “I should be lucky you’ll even talk to me, none less love—” His voice cracked and the words were lost to the cold depths of the Mediterranean, never to be found again. “I just wish you would have trusted me, just a little. Told me the truth… while you had the chance.”

  Ash gave a little gasp when Tristan’s arms around her slipped and they both nearly tumbled into the water. With a little help from Mamoru, they kept Tristan upright, sandwiching him between cave and vampire. His head hung, chin to chest and eyes closed, the rest of him stiff with cold.

  “Tristan?” she whispered, hand shaking from fear and not the cold as she reached up to touch him. There was no heat radiating from him anymore and the heart in his chest was beating slow, too slow. “We have to go, now!”

  “Kuso,” Mamoru grumbled and looked around. There was no way of getting out of the cave, he knew there wasn’t, but still he needed to be sure. He took a deep breath and dove under to search the edge of the cave for any openings that might lead to air and dry land. When Mamoru came up again he was on the complete other side of the cave. He gulped down more air and then went back under to check the again.

  “It’s no good!” he declared frustrated when he emerged. “Ash, you should go. I’ll stay with him. You don’t want to see this.”

  “I have watched those I care about die before,” she snapped, refusing to take her eyes from the man in her arms.

  “I know,” Mamoru answered in such a sad tone that it jerked Ash’s attention to him. “That’s why you should go. You’ve seen enough of death for five vampires…”

  Ash wasn’t sure exactly what her blood had showed him during their little tryst last spring, now she knew. It was what everyone saw when they tasted her soul, misery. Was there nothing good of herself to share with those who joined themselves with her?

  A hand touched Ash’s shoulder and she flinched. “There is good in you to be had, Ash.” Mamoru moved closer so that Ash could see him and Tristan both, and he gave a nod to the unconscious man. “He’s part of your good.”

  “The man who will bring death to us all.”

  Mamoru’s brow rose with his chin. “If that’s how you interpret her words, then fine. But I don’t think so. Now, I’m not saying I think he’s our savior either… it’s—I don’t know. I really don’t think he’s meant to kill any one race off.”

  Ash frowned, biting her lip. The warmth of her own blood surprised her. “Damn it all,” Ash suddenly blurted, surprising Mamoru. “I should have told him everything from the start.”

  “There’s still time,” Mamoru said gently. He wasn’t convinced but they could at least try. “We’ll carry him together. Can you hold a deep breath to give us clean air when we run out?”

  “Yes. Come, hurry.”

  Mamoru grunted as his body protested from the cold. He wasn’t vampire enough to be immune to it and while it wouldn’t kill him, it still made him achy and slow.

  Tristan’s lifeless body hanging between the two, Mamoru took in a few quick breaths, expanding his lungs and then one deep breath to hold and prayed he could make it to the surface. Ash took in her own deep breath and nodded.

  The Japanese man was just about to dip under when a body exploded out of the water. He cried out, reaching for his knife, dropping Tristan in the progress. Ash gasped, losing all of the air she had stored for the two men and went under, desperately clinging to Tristan. When she came back up she was in near panic. But the confusion was quickly replaced with hot anger.

  “Desmond! Where in the—” She stopped, really seeing him finally. “What happened to you?” she asked in a tiny voice. “Where is your shirt?”

  There was a gash over Desmond’s left eye that was deep enough that he was still bleeding, another longer slash across his chest that extended around to his lower back.

  “Fooking fish, think they own the whole bloody ocean!”

  Mamoru stiffened.

  “You ran into mermaids? Here?” she asked feeling uneasy. Out of the seven shinwa, the vampire were considered the strongest and they had few adversaries, especially now that the lycan were all hunted out of existence. But there was a reason old vampire lore said they were afraid of water. Malik was so transfixed on his fear of the brutal creatures that he only ever left his birth continent once in six-hundred odd years—in a vain and botched attempt to kill the harbinger of death prophesized to wipe out his kind.

  “Aye, but we had us a wee blither… think I micht be married now... Er, right then, they’ll let us pass.” Desmond’s attention finally went to Tristan. “See yew got him tae shut up.”

  “He’s dying you insensitive monster!” Ash screamed loud enough to bleed a human’s ears.

  Desmond stuck his lip out in a little pout, looking like a scolded child before righting himself again. “Come on then, we know the way.” The big man flicked his head to the side, cracking his neck and then nodded for the others to submerse themselves.

  “Wait, should I feed you?” Mamoru asked, sounding panicked.

  “Yew need yur energy more than us.” Desmond slipped slowly down into the water and took a deep mental breath of it. Water was his home, his very being. He controlled it wholly and wished he were feeling more up to calling umibozu out to play but he had a serious job to do first, keep Tristan alive.

  Opening his eyes, Desmond sent out his awareness into the water, establishing a connection with it. That he was bleeding was in his favor, strengthening his bond. With little to no thought he gathered up all the air bubbles in the vicinity and fixed them into a big fish bowl over Tristan’s and Mamoru’s heads. The Japanese man nodded his appreciation and with Ash’s help they swam down behind Desmond w
ith Tristan between them.

  Ten feet down was already pitch black and Mamoru felt the weight of his decision to trust someone like Desmond. The vampire proved to be loyal to his word though, safely guiding them through the outstretched arms of a curious mermaid clan as they clambered for a look, perhaps even a tiny taste, of a true Uruwashi. Mamoru’s blood pounded in his head so fiercely that he knew he’d have a headache for the rest of the night. The stress alone of trusting Desmond to not leave them in the dark under the crushing weight of the ocean, to the hands of the savages of the deep was enough to leave his head feeling less than satisfactory. The air in his bubble was turning sour but then they were already there.

  Mamoru broke the surface and sucked in a gasp of clean, crisp ocean air. It was salty as hell but damn it felt good after the suffocating nightmare that his bubble could have been. He didn’t know Tristan well, or at all really, but was happy the man wasn’t awake to experience something so awful. It was a memory neither of them needed.

  “Are you okay?” Ash asked, oblivious to the other man’s thoughts.

  Mamoru spit out a mouthful of water. “I’ll live.”

  She hoped Tristan would too.

  “Oi!”

  The others snapped around to look up at Desmond. He was using his gifts to their fullest, or just showing off, as he stood on top of the water looking like Jesus—if the man were undead and Scottish anyway.

  “Give us the boy, I’ll no have him dying ‘nd forfeit me baws.” He put on a big stupid smile. “Me new fish wife micht object.” Shaking with laughter, Desmond went to Ash.

  She didn’t even argue, shoving Tristan into Desmond’s arms when he knelt to a knee in front of her. The vampire hefted the American into a fireman’s hold and then started to run. They were nearly seven hundred meters out. The sky to the north glowed from the small city below but the coastal mountains all but hid their source. With a tired sigh, Ash started to swim after Desmond, towards the lights of civilization.

  “Ash?” Mamoru breathed out, swimming being more of an exertion for him than her.

  “I see them,” she said in a low, cautious tone. The water carried sound all too easily and even with her vampiric sight, they were still too far away for her to identify more than knowing that there were two people on beach, one rather short, the other uncomfortably tall. “Is that—”

  “Chrysanthe and Silas? I think so.”

  She snuck a little glance at the man, the quiver in his voice making her uneasy. “Are they foe?”

  They exchanged a glance, and then Ash’s attention went back to the shore. Desmond was just setting Tristan down. The others rushed over to join them.

  “Can’t say for sure. All I know is that Chrysanthe tried to kill me and I don’t think she is working under her own motives. The elf hasn’t hurt neither Tristan nor myself.”

  “Hurry,” she all but shouted.

  By the time they reached the shore, the others had already wrapped Tristan up in a thick wool blanket, shoved a cap on his head, and were trying to position him upright to pour a vile of dark liquid into him. Ash rushed them, smacking the pythia’s hand and effectively pushing Desmond away as she wrapped herself around Tristan’s still form.

  “Asta!” Desmond begrudged her but didn’t try hard to push his way into the situation again.

  “What is your intention, witch?” Ash snapped, eyes fixed on the two newcomers. Mamoru finally pulled himself free of the freezing ocean and ambled over, the long ornate knife coming out. He went to stand at Ash’s side in a show of comradery.

  The pythia looked only mildly annoyed under her fear. “Oh dear, trying to keep him alive.”

  “Why?”

  Chrysanthe shot Silas at her back a look and then huffed at the others. “Because it’s what I’m being paid to do.”

  Ash mentally cursed that she couldn’t read the woman’s mind and looked to Mamoru for guidance, knowing he could. The man relaxed his stance and shrugged telling her that the woman spoke the truth but he couldn’t read more than that.

  Desmond harrumphed, pouting to himself that Ash hadn’t bothered checking with him. He could hear much more clearly than some stupid Uruwashi.

  “If you harm him in any way, I will kill you both,” Ash warned.

  Chrysanthe dropped to her knees in the wet sand with a grunt unbefitting her and reached out with the potion again. “Oh dear,” she grumbled under her breath but meaning for Ash to hear, “I did say I meant to save him.”

  Ash swallowed hard as Chrysanthe put the vile to Tristan’s lips. At the last moment Ash snatched it from her and dipped her finger into the liquid and took a sniff before tasting. It smelled strongly of spirits, rosemary and valerian. The tang of blood hit her like a slap to the face and her hunger roared to life. Her eyes rolled up and fixed on the pythia, an excellent source of food if any.

  Frightened of the look in Ash’s eyes, Chrysanthe stumbled back to fall on her ass. Silas came to her rescue, scooping her up and drawing her back.

  “Please,” Chrysanthe pleaded through dry lips, “he’s fading. We need to get him warm quickly. I’ve a room in the city with a hot bath ready, if you’ll just—”

  “Who are you working for?”

  The pythia’s eyes were wide in fear. Ash was equally afraid, but she could also feel Tristan’s heartbeat under her hand. He had a minute or two for them to get to the bottom of it all.

  Off to the side, nearly forgotten, Desmond shuffled his feet through the sand to reach the edge of the water, looking causal with his hands in his pockets. Mamoru moaned when the first tendrils of Desmond’s power licked his psyche, ignited his baser urges. The incoming waves sizzling on the sand didn’t go past Silas’s notice.

  “Tell me now!”

  Chrysanthe flinched back at Ash’s barked command, bumping into Silas. “Oh dear, and will you allow him to die if I don’t?”

  Ash stared at her for a heartbeat and then let out a harsh noise through her fangs. She cursed at the small woman in Greek—a true curse, that if it were followed up with a splash of another pythia’s blood on the woman’s skin would become deadly—and poured the contents of the vile into Tristan’s mouth.

  “Tristan?” she whispered. “Can you hear me?” She pressed her lips to his temple. “I need you to swallow, my love. Can you do that for me? It will make you warm again.” A quick glance at the shaking pythia and a nod on her part confirmed Ash’s professional guess at the spell. Light coaxing over his Adam’s apple made Tristan finally swallow.

  A violent shudder overtook him and then his eyes fluttered open. He blinked at Ash in a blank stare for a moment and then his brow furrowed deeply. “I’m cold.”

  She smiled softly, ignoring Desmond’s annoyed huff. “I know. Come, let us get you warm.”

  The blanket moved as Tristan’s hands shuffled around, trying to reach out of the wool for Ash. When he couldn’t, he gave up and smiled coyly up at Ash though he meant the look to be charming and saucy. “You gonna warm me?”

  She smiled big and answered, “Oh yes.”

  15: Warm Water

  AM I wearing clothes in the bath?” Tristan asked, his words slurring into each other and making him nearly unintelligible. His head was heavy and bobbling all over the place as he tried to focus on the person over him.

  Standing with her arms crossed below her chest, Ash looked angry when in fact she was overwhelmingly relieved. “How are you?”

  Feeling the confusion leak away, Tristan looked down, taking in his situation. He was wearing the same clothes he got buried in, all intact and how he left them before he lost consciousness except they were soaking wet. All four limbs were hanging out of the water and nearly dry, as well as his hair under a thick winter cap. “Wet.”

  Ash chuckled and lowered to her knees, resting her chin on her forearms across the tub edge. “Let me see your arm.”

  Tristan raised his arm and only just then noticed the thick bandage on it. It felt sticky and heavy to him. That’s right, the
tiger bit him, he nearly forgot about it since the cold water made him stop bleeding and numbed the pain.

  Silent, Ash undid the dressing and examined his forearm.

  “Wow,” was all he said.

  Ash smiled. “Not even a scar.”

  “You didn’t do that, did you?”

  There was only two ways Tristan knew of how to heal that well and they both involved blood of some kind.

  “Does it hurt?”

  Tristan moved it and shook his head. “Fine.

  “You can put your arms and legs in now, if you would like. They had to stay out until your overall temp rose again to prevent—to keep you safe.”

  Tristan considered her a moment and then sighed, pulling his arms in water. He hissed through his teeth when tiny hot bursts of pain lit from elbow to fingertip. “Do you mind?” he asked, wiggling his feet.

  Without a word or even a tiny hesitation, Ash scooted down to pull off Tristan’s shoes and then his socks. He was considering whether to do the quick dunk or a slow ascent into pain when Ash took his right foot into her hand. She smiled up at him as she started to massage his foot, slowly lowering it into the water. He winced at the pain, an eye squeezed shut and a hiss slipping from his lips, but Ash’s strong, sure fingers helped abate the stinging.

  “How’s your hand?” he asked, eyes flicking to her right wrist. The skin showed signs of scaring that he guessed would go away as she finished healing.

  “Fine. It works just as it should.” And the pain had all but vanished with the second feeding she received from Mamoru just twenty minutes ago. It was an interesting feeding, packed full of information Ash should have known. Boy, was she going to have an interesting conversation with Yukihime when she saw her again.

  “Good,” he answered softly. “That’s good…”

  “Listen, Ash—”, “Tristan, I—” they both said over each other and then stopped. After a moment’s hesitation, Tristan nodded. “You first.”

  She gave him a tiny smile, lips pressed into a straight line. “We need to talk.”