“Find Agamemnon?” Tristan asked when he caught up, attention on his gun as he did a quick once over to make sure it was still all together and he had most of his bullets. There was one missing and he couldn’t remember having fired the weapon.
“My mind aches…,” Ash mused softly. “If we can find my mother’s lost book, I can reverse the spell that robbed us of our memory and I will know just what that man was.”
Tristan nodded, pretty sure she’d known who the old man was too until her memory was spelled over.
“Let us go collect the elf and the witch,” Ash said louder, pace increasing with the confidence and determination in her tone. “Then we will find Agamemnon and—” She stopped short, feet scuffing on the sidewalk. Her expression was full of wonder as she blinked up at Tristan. “I have been spelled.”
He snorted a laugh, glancing back at Mamoru. “Yeah, we’ve established that.”
“No, I mean…” Ash took a breath and let it out in a huff. A second later a glob of damp earth from somewhere off to the far right flew to Ash’s hand to float an inch over it.
Tristan’s eyes widened, his lips parted. “You… You’re you again?” And more. She’d never used her seikonō like that in front of him, ever. “But you look human, how is that even possible?”
“Do I?” She looked down and frowned at the soft honey color of her smooth Greek skin. She made a little noise of surprise when she saw her hands and then pulled a few strands of hair forward to prove to herself that it was still indeed brown. “Interesting.”
“Interesting? You were captured by an insane hermaphrodite vampire, tortured, cursed human, all the while I was nearly killed by an elf and a pythia working for the same person who spelled you human and set this whole magical ride into motion only to knock you out again and spell you back to normal with all your powers while still looking human and all you have to say is… interesting?”
Her lips quirked with a smile she was trying to hold back. “So many fascinating things happen around you.”
Mamoru chuckled, obviously hearing more than what Ash had said aloud. “Sansei!” he said, agreeing.
Tristan frowned but kept the string of bad words to himself. See, he was starting to grow up. More like evolve, as he liked to think of it. It hadn’t taken him long to understand that he needed to change in order to survive, even if it meant changing into something he didn’t like. He could always change that too, right?
“The elf and witch?” he prompted, wanting to get off the streets before innocents died.
“Agreed,” Ash said and turned to the other man, “Mamoru? You saw them last.”
The Japanese man nodded and broke out into a jog to circumvent the block. “They were, uh, being passive with the rest of the crowd when I saw them last.
Ash’s eyes jerked to Mamoru without turning her head. She knew the man relied heavily on pythia spells to help him hunt. It made him wise and possibly, untrustworthy. It was asking a lot to trust a pythia enough to stir the right spells for you and she wondered just who he aligned himself with and maybe if it was the one pulling the strings on this whole thing.
Feeling her sudden doubt, Mamoru spun, feet scrapping the pavement as he slid to a halt just out of reach. “Now just a minute. I’m on your side, both of you.” His attention went to Tristan. The American was confused, but would stand by Ash no matter what and that scared Mamoru.
Tristan narrowed his eyes on the man. “You did show up at just the right time…”
“Tristan,” Mamoru gasped, eyes full of desperation. “You have to believe me. I’m on your side.” Seeing the doubt in the other’s eyes, Mamoru took a step forward and stopped when Tristan’s gun trained on his head. “Ash, you’ve bitten me, three times now, you saw all intentions, my truths.”
She frowned, brow knotting. “I did?”
“Chikushō,” he cursed when he realized that she didn’t remember that either. Just who’d been here and messed with their memories? Good god, just how much were they spelled to forget? That was the true fear. The counter-spell to reverse it was dangerous and unreliable. It was prudent to let the lost memories lie rather than try to recover them.
“No,” Tristan said, lowering his gun and putting a hand on Ash’s shoulder. Her tension rang out along his arm and tightened his chest “He’s right, you did.” Granted, he was only aware of one of the times, but he had nearly frozen to death and missed quite a lot in the time he was out, apparently. “If he were foe, you would have done something then. You…” He carefully edged around to look at Ash but not putting his back fully to Mamoru. “You don’t remember?”
Her eyes darted across the ground in thought and she let out a puff of air. “No, I think—You are right.” She suddenly looked up, alarm stiffening her posture. “What has become of Innokentiy?”
“Uh…” Tristan looked to Mamoru who shrugged in answer, looking relieved even as they knew they had more problems to deal with.
“He’s not the problem either. Look, let’s go secure Silas and Chrysanthe before we get caught up in this and lose those two. They may not seem dangerous but their meddling has had some big impacts.”
Ash pushed into motion, hand reaching out towards Mamoru. “Agreed.” She clamped her hand on his shoulder and gave him a squeeze in solidarity. “Sorry for doubting you, my friend.”
He smiled at her and glanced back at Tristan. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”
Tristan held back a groan, knowing that this man probably knew more about Ash than he did. Mamoru’d been in her mind, amongst other intimate places, and it still bothered Tristan even as he accepted it. At least he felt more secure with where he and Ash stood now that they’d shared more of themselves with each other.
After nodding at Ash, Mamoru dropped back to Tristan and held out his hand. It was very American of him, Tristan thought, but remembered that the man had lived there for a time. “I’ve decided to take you on as my apprentice and with the oath of knowledge comes the oath of protection. You are my student and family, till death parts us. Do you agree?”
Tristan’s mouth was slightly open and he quickly shut it to hide his shock. He came to a scuffing stop and looked down at the hand still extended out to him. With a mere handshake, he’d be bound to another person. He didn’t really know Mamoru but enough that he was sure his intentions were genuine and for the greater good. They were kin. “Brothers until death?” He asked with a grim expression.
Mamoru nodded, the doubt and worry he was feeling apparent in the pull of his brow, the slight frown of his lips and the sweat along his hairline despite the cool weather. “Until death,” he whispered in somber seriousness.
Tristan broke out into a big grin. “Well no need to be all melodramatic about it.” The other man was laughing in relief as Tristan slapped his hand against Mamoru’s forearm and tightened his hold. Mamoru took Tristan’s arm in turn and pulled him in for a quick brotherly hug.
The noise around them shifted and they looked up, seeing the crowd awakening from the stupor of the spell bomb Mamoru had thrown. The fire was out and there were confused, some half-dressed, people milling about. The last thing they needed was observant innocents discovering the secret of the shinwa and heikō’s existence. Humans were fodder to a war that hadn’t been declared but was increasingly coming to light. Things were changing. The serial killer back in Akita with all the marks of shinwa on it was proof enough.
“We need to hurry,” Mamoru said in a hushed tone, almost as in reverence.
Ash didn’t even say a word before darting out into the crowd, her path direct and purposeful. The others jogged up behind her to keep up. That’s when they saw her destination. Silas was all but naked as he struggled to pull on his pants without any underpants. Chrysanthe was blinking at him, laid out on the ground and looking dazed. Her lips moved slowly as she spoke to the elf, but none of the group could hear her from the distance between them and the rising commotion of the crowd. A wave of excitement slapped them in th
e face and brought the two Uruwashi and vampire to a jarring halt, heads swiveling as one towards the source.
“Oh fuck me,” Tristan muttered.
Next to him, Mamoru echoed with his own choice of colorful words and took stance. Ash looked resolute to stand her ground but even Tristan could feel her worry.
Ash lifted her chin, throat obvious as she worked to swallow. “Good evening, Genoveva.”
22: Vow
IN a blink, all hell broke loose. Genoveva might have been insane but she wasn’t stupid enough to fall into a battle of wits and meandering monologues when she could just slaughter everything in her way. She would have Asta back no matter what. Killing the Uruwashi while she was at it would be an added pleasure.
The two women charged, both moving with a nearly unseen speed. By the time Tristan’s brain registered that they were moving, they’d already met in a tangle of limbs and angry snarls. Ash landed the first blow, a fist encased in compacted soil and bits of stone. The earthen boxing glove erupted on the side of Genoveva’s face, wiping that smug-ass grin off her face. Ash’s expression was filled with unwavering determination but Tristan could see the fear lurking behind her eyes, waiting to take over the moment she let her guard down for even a second.
He called out to Ash and then gasped as he tumbled back when a wave of earth rippled across the road. The retreating crowd echoed his surprise as everyone was tossed to the ground. Something in Tristan’s middle twisted and he doubled over, consumed by heat.
“Oh god,” he breathed out, unable to fight the pleasure. He could tell it was Genoveva’s power licking at his soul and he loathed it even as his body gave him over to it, wanting more.
The small noises of the crowd grew and within moments they escalated into screams full of terror. Tristan forced himself to look up and his eyes widened as he saw the last trails of a dirt cloud settle over a group the ground swallowed up. He was on his feet and moving before he remembered the others. He stopped so fast his feet skid across the pavement, remnants of moved earth loosening his traction.
Ash and Genoveva where having it out, fist to flesh. The occasional orb of sod was used to distract and corral rather than maim. Tristan’s mouth dropped open at the speed which they moved. Ash, she was so rich and dark, his mind had a hard time with the idea that she could even be dead. Every time a vampire flexed their powers on him, they’d all been pale. Pale equaled deadly in his mind. Watching Ash now, he knew how foolish the conditioned response had been. They were all deadly, every last one of them.
As if feeling his eyes on her, Ash’s head jerked around to look at him. She smiled, showing off her fangs when they met eyes and she waved him off, telling him with just a look that she was fine. More than actually, she was having fun. Yeah, he definitely liked this Ash more than the dark brooding, always in her own head Ash.
“Come on!” A hand snagged his arm and Tristan stumbled as Mamoru kept running, dragging Tristan along with him. “She’s fine. We have to help them.”
Tristan nodded as they stopped over the spot where he’d seen the earth suck in all those people. The dirt was freshly turned and smelled strong. He looked at his hands, wondering how he was going to dig all those people out with no tools “Where’s Innokentiy? He can move this faster than we can.”
Mamoru shook his head, looking aggravated and keyed up. “I don’t know. He’s been masking himself so much. I lost track of him after he darted off earlier.”
“Damn,” Tristan cursed and dropped to his knees. He shoveled at the wet earth with his hands, scooping up as much as he could and pushing it to the side. Mamoru joined him, but even after nearly three minutes of heavy work, they’d yet to find a single person. Who knew just how deeply they were buried.
“Shit!” Tristan bit out between huffs. “This isn’t working.”
Mamoru jumped to his feet. “You’re right. I’m going to try to find that kono yaro and drag his ancient vampire ass back here.”
If Tristan had the breath to do so, he’d of laughed at Mamoru’s angry tone. As it was, he was weary with fear, enough to take his breath away, and he had to imagine those below were too. Still, he wouldn’t give up. “Go!”
With an aggravated growl, Mamoru forced himself away, dropping his bag near Tristan with a warning to keep his hands out of it and a promise to be right back. Tristan was almost too distracted by his digging to notice how quickly the Japanese man disappeared. He was faster than human, good to know.
Tristan was still dragging dirt around when he felt the unmistakable unease of eyes on him. He jolted to a sudden stop and look behind him. It was the elf and he wasn’t alone. “If you’re not here to help then get lost.” Against his screaming instincts, he put his back to the shinwa/heikō couple. Stupid? Maybe, but he couldn’t be bothered by them right now. Besides, he was pretty sure they didn’t want to kill him. “I can’t let these people die like this.”
“Oh dear. Tristan, those people, they’re already—”
“I said help or fuck off!”
He felt Chrysanthe and Silas moving behind him and tensed when they drew close. His fears all let themselves out with his held breath when the couple dropped to the dirt next to him and started to dig.
“I’m sorry I nearly killed you,” Chrysanthe said in a tiny voice.
Tristan stopped scooping at the dirt long enough to huff and give her a nasty look. She frowned at him in return, swiping the back of her hand across her forehead to tame her thick hair.
“Oh dear, it really was an accident,” she continued, still digging at the dirt and looking less tired than Tristan. “You see, since I lost my vision, everything I spell comes out wrong. You’re the last person I want to see harmed. I swear, I’ve nothing against you.”
Between them, Silas harrumphed, but worked diligently to dig.
“Why’s that?”
“Oh dear, you are the last Uruwashi. You’re important.”
A bead of sweat rolled off Tristan’s nose and he let out a huff to keep it from dripping into his mouth. “There’s Mamoru too.”
Chrysanthe’s tension was easy enough to sense without having to look at her. “He doesn’t deserve to live.”
“Excuse me?” Tristan hissed, trying hard to keep his fingers in the dirt and not wrap around the witch’s throat. “Mamoru’s a good man whose been given a hard life. We all make do with what we have.”
“He’s killed.”
“About that fucking church again?” Tristan tossed a chuck of asphalt the size of a melon aside. “It was an accident. He’s a good man,” he said again. He didn’t need to convince himself, he knew it with a deep certainty.
“Oh dear. You don’t know a sodding thing. Do you have any idea who was in that church?”
Tristan shot her a look, kept digging.
“Sure, it was men and women and children, but not all of them were human. There was a wedding in attendance, a most important royal wedding between the largest elf and fae clan in Europe. It was meant to be a joining of shinwa, the beginning of peace for the elves once again.”
Okay, now that got Tristan’s attention. He remembered Sebastian’s eerie foretelling of war and Mamoru muttering about something coming. “You think it was sabotage?”
Silas made a movement that attracted his attention. When Tristan looked at him, he saw the anger of betrayal in the elf’s bright eyes. And something else… Remorse?
“That’s what this is all about?” With an angry huff, Tristan went back to digging, moving more vigorously than before. There was no way the people down there were still alive but he had to try. “Revenge? You think Mamoru meant to kill all those people to upset some political shinwa agenda, to, what, start a war? Unbelievable.”
“Oh dear,” Chrysanthe said through puffs of air. “Something is coming, not just for the shinwa or heikō, but every living being on this planet. Mamoru is just another catalyst in that coming.”
“I won’t let you hurt him,” Tristan automatically threatened.
Chrysanthe started to say something but Silas’s delicate voice said over her, “Just keep digging.” His tone, and the look he just gave Tristan, said he wasn’t as convinced as his partner in the matter. The elf was hiding something.
“Look,” Tristan grumbled. “I don’t know what—Holy shit!” He nearly fell back when the cold, slimy fingers of a hand grabbed onto his. “Someone’s alive!”
The others joined him, franticly digging the poor woman out. How she survived wasn’t important, they had to make sure she stayed that way. It was the elf that pulled her out but the moment the terrified woman saw his eyes she screamed and dove into Tristan. He held onto her as she shook with fear.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay now. Do you understand me?”
Her eyes tore from the unassuming elf, digging again and trying to pretend he wasn’t hurt by her reaction. “Thank you,” she whispered through dirt caked, shaking lips.
“I need to save the rest. Can you stand over there?”
“Nick!” she squeaked. “My husband!”
“I know, we’ll get them out,” Tristan assured her as he tried to gently pry her off him. “Please, just stand back.”
Nodding, eyes wide as saucers, she shuffled backwards. Tristan’d just put his back to her and plunged his hands into the hole searching for more survivors when a shrill of panicked fear made him spin back around. He gasped in dumfounded awe as he saw the poor woman fighting with all her might against steel arms and piercing fangs.
“You psychotic freak!” Tristan gained his feet. He stretched his arm out, aiming his gun at Genoveva’s forehead. The anger welled up inside him as he met those smiling eyes, the smirk of a grin around dirt-brown flesh, it was nearly enough to set him on fire. “I just saved her you fucking asshole!”
His finger bounced on the trigger. He couldn’t bring himself to pull and risk killing the woman instead. Movement to his right distracted him for a split second and then he gasped as Ash slammed into him, flinging him to the ground. Silas charged the other vampire, Chrysanthe reaching for the woman. They both cried out when a tentacle of dirt caught them around the ankle and jerked them back. A third arm of dirt jutted up where Tristan had been, clearly meant to impale him.
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