“Shishō,” Ash said with an annoyed hiss and motioned to her face. “Why do you wear that? What would the kitsune say?”
Shishō giggled madly and tapped the side of the fox styled noh mask with a long fingernail. Perhaps Ash’s distraction worked. “They can say what they wish. Not even dear old Akane can do a thing about it and you both know it.”
Ash sighed, dismayed over Shishō’s flamboyancy, but kept the comments at bay, hoping the Master would be too distracted to talk of Tristan again.
“Interesting gaijin you’ve found,” Shishō commented as she removed the mask. Of course, her will to stay on track some nights was infuriating. “He’s rather amusing, is he not?”
Ash’s brow rose. “You mean attractive.” And insolent and completely intolerable. Nothing like what Ash was expecting. The man didn’t even have the smallest of understanding of what he was.
She giggled again. “Oh, so you noticed too? Yes, there is that.” The tiny woman sat in the middle of the floor, folding her legs under her. The dog immediately curled into her lap. All amusement left the young woman’s petite features. “But you and I both know that it’s more than those handsome features that makes him so attractive. He’s the one, isn’t he?”
Ash’s tongue darted out for a quick lick. “I—do not know.”
“Now don’t play coy with me. You do know.”
“I just,” Ash said with a sigh, voice softening. “I do not know what I believe anymore.”
“Oh please,” Shishō snapped. “You always were so… emotional.” She stood, pushing the dog away. The animal looked put off and ran away to hide behind Ash’s bed. “What do you intend to do? With him, I mean?”
“Keep him alive, what else is there to do?”
She laughed, starting a slow stalk across the room. “Coyness really doesn’t suit you, child. You know.”
“Shishō,” Ash barked and then in a softer tone said, “Master, please. This is not a decision to be made so lightly. I mean, he is—”
“Of course he is. And you’re the one that’s meant to help him, you know this as well as I.” Ash’s mouth opened to argue but Shishō had more to say. “You also know that you cannot fight fate. Of anyone, you know how utterly foolish that is.”
“Please,” Ash hissed.
“After all this time, you’re still not healed. Are you?”
The soft serenity, honesty of her words brought warmth to Ash’s eyes. How could Ash ever forget that time with, with… him? How could one ever heal fully from that?
Shishō sighed, coming to a stop behind Ash, tilting her head in consideration. “I understand. I do. I just think that, just once, that you should take a chance and trust me.” She put a hand on Ash’s shoulder that was immediately shrugged off.
Ash’s laugh was sad and condescending. “No, thank you.”
“You know,” she started with a lilt to her voice that said Ash wasn’t going to like what she said. “This American you have, maybe he’s not really the one.”
Ash shot her an incredulous look, already knowing where this was heading.
“You should test the theory.”
“No.” Not until Ash had more time to think on it. It was too big of a decision to be made so quickly.
She moved close to Ash again, within reach. “There’s only one way to know for sure if he is really one of those.”
“Yes, so I have heard.”
“Hmm,” the tiny woman hummed in consideration. “I think that’s the problem here.” She advanced on Ash. There was no time to move away and then Ash was in her hold, staring into a nasty grin full of teeth. And two very intimidating fangs. “Taste is the universal language of our kind after all.” Ash was pulled closer and tensed. “Just a taste… a tiny conversation.”
The breath left Ash in a shaky sigh. “I… no, please.”
“Yesss,” she hissed in answer. Those small hands encircled Ash’s waist, moved lower over narrow hips searching. “If you don’t, I will.”
Ash’s eyes widened. “You cannot.” It barely came out as a whisper. “I thought—”
“Oh yes, of course, I don’t mean to kill the dear boy.” She pulled Ash closer, putting her lips to Ash’s ear. “No, no, no, I don’t want to hurt anyone. All I want is Lilith’s words to have meaning.” She licked Ash’s ear, let out a sigh. “You smell like him. Would you disappoint the dear pythia? Would you, As—”
“Stop!”
“Well then. There’s only one thing left to do now. It’s best not to fight.”
There was no fighting to be had, all free will was squashed under the immense power behind the Master’s voice. Ash slumped in her small embrace. “Please… you cannot.”
“I truly am sorry, my child, but you’ve left me no other choice. Perhaps, in time, once you’ve found your way again, you can have them back. In the meantime, I’ll take good care of your precious memories. I’ll be more gentle with them than you have anyway, treasure them the way you’ve been unwilling—no, unable to.”
“Please,” Ash whispered, voice and will desperate against an unresponsive body.
There were no more words of defiance, no fleeing, no resistance as the Master forced her oppressive will outward and bit into Ash’s carotid.
3: Just a Car Crash Away
NUMB. Everything was numb. Ears ringing, hurt.
The sky, so very dark. The stars, so very beautiful.
Dirty hands came up between him and his view of the sky. Blood seeped from open wounds, trickling down into the cuff of a white dress shirt. Bits of gravel stuck to the blood and raw flesh. After a moment, Tristan realized they were his bloody hands and in that moment of revelation is when he noticed the sharp scent of burnt plastic and heated metal.
Instant panic washed over him, catching his breath, clenching his stomach into a tight knot. He moved to get up, but his body protested, sending electricity through his entire upper body. He gasped and fell back. Nothing felt broken, not yet that he could feel anyway. The ringing in his ears was beginning to fade and soon he heard a sound that shot right through him, made him shiver. Someone was screaming, wails full of terror and pain. Oh god, he knew the voice behind those screams.
Mom...
His body just reacted. He tried to stand and ended up falling over, screaming in agony. Bile burned up the back of his throat and he went lightheaded. When the pain lessened and he could see again he tenderly inched his pants up on his left leg. The bones under his skin were no longer linear and straight. Something was broken after all.
“Fuck me…,” he hissed through gritted teeth and swiped the spittle from his chin with his forearm.
He forced himself into a seated position, panting and groaning with the effort. The numbness he felt before was gone and while it was uncomfortable, he wished it were back. Burning pain throbbed all up his leg, through his hip and side. Sweat gathered across his forehead, under his hair and down his back. The night was warm, but not that warm. And with each new moment that his hearing returned, he realized there was a peculiar, yet eerily familiar sound beating at his back. It was also the source of his mother’s cries. He had to get to her, he had to help her.
Cursing, sweating, and shaking, Tristan finally got himself turned around to find a sight that he wasn’t sure was real. A black Audi sedan lay on its side, held in the clutches of a gnarled guardrail. It was once shiny and new. It was once his parent’s car. Now the sedan belonged to the tall flames devouring the entire front end. The passenger cabin was crumpled, pushed in at the middle. Broken glass shined and shimmered across the pavement reflecting the light of the fire like tiny twinkling stars fallen from the heavens, the stars he had been admiring not more than five minutes ago.
Tristan’s mind was a jumbled mess of disbelief and fear. He couldn’t remember what happened between sitting in the car, talking to his parents and waking up on the ground with a broken leg. There had been no other cars on the road, they were the only ones. Did an animal run out? What else could have i
t of been? Why didn’t he know what happened?
Worry about the why later. He needed to find his dad and save his mom.
He rolled to his stomach, crying out when the bones in his leg tried to poke through his skin. Even when the pain nearly blinded him, he forced himself forward, crawling slowly towards the car, dragging the useless broken leg behind him. As he got closer to the car, the familiar form of his father came into sight.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, not believing.
The tall, proud man that was once his father was now lying face down on the pavement in a crumpled, broken mess meat and blood. He’d been evicted the car via the windshield. Tears filled Tristan’s eyes, blurring the world, burned down his cheeks as they broke free. He had a decision to make, who to go to first. Another terrified, shrill scream made his decision. He looked to the car and the cries for help coming from within. An outline, clearly lit by the light of the fire, hung sideways in the passenger seat by the seatbelt. She was bent forward, pushing frantically at her legs, face distorted in terror. The flames that helped illuminate the cabin were also proving to be her doom. She was being burned alive.
“Mooooom!” he cried out, his panic doubling at the sight of her trying to save herself and failing.
Tristan’s hearing had mostly returned. The unfortunate side effect of being able to hear again was having to listen to the sounds of his mother’s screams full volume. Having to listen to her die. They tore at him, pulling the tears faster and making it impossible to see. He gulped down a lungful of sooty tasting air and wondered how he was going to save his mother if he couldn’t even stand. He wouldn’t give up, he couldn’t. It was not in him to roll over and die, or let someone he loved die so easily. He’d cut off his leg if he had to, just to save his mother. He’d give his life for hers.
He’d just pushed up to move forward when something moved at the edge of his vision. His attention snapped around and he blinked hard, trying to clear the tears away. There was a figure, a person, hidden deep in the shadows across the street. They’re watching?
“Hey!” Tristan shouted. “Help us. Ple-ase!”
There was no answer. No movement.
“Heeey. Can you hear me? Hell-o? There’s a fucking wreck, right here. Help!”
A warm, deep laugh filled the air and Tristan shivered, feeling uneasy. He shut his eyes tightly and sucked in a sharp breath to scream for help again when he was suddenly sitting up awake in Ash’s guestroom. The echo of that laugh rang in his ears like a bad James Bond villain. And yet, it terrified him. There was something wrong with the person. There was something wrong with the whole fucked up situation. No matter how many times he thought of that night, he couldn’t remember how it happened. He was sure he’d run himself insane before his mind would give up the answer. But there was one thing he was starting to believe, that the Bond villain had something to do with it. But why?
His pulse raced, heart beating hard against his chest. He put a hand to his face and came away with clear liquid. Some of it was sweat, the rest was tears. Tears for his parents. He wondered if he’d ever stop dreaming of that night. But then, the answer was probably one he didn’t want to hear. The urge to go fill that empty place in him with his post-accident habit was almost overwhelming. He knew exactly where to find the booze. He knew he shouldn’t, but it called to him, begged him to come have a taste, offered empty promises that he so desperately needed to believe. What was a little taste? He did always learn best by trial and error after all.
As he moved to sit up, he felt something against his neck. He reached up and when his fingers found the necklace Ash had given him, he tore it off and tossed it across the room with a huff. “Worthless piece of shit.” He felt silly for even thinking it might actually work.
A quick glance at the windows told him it was daylight out. God, he wanted that drink. He started to climb out of bed when there was a faint noise from the direction of the bathroom. He jumped, turning wide-eyed towards the sound and met startled brown eyes.
“Um, yes?” he asked, not entirely happy Haruka was wondering around in his room while he was trying to sleep. Guess he wasn’t really sleeping that well to begin with.
Haruka quickly looked away, clasping her hands before her. “My apology—apologies young Master. Did I wake you? I return your things,” she responded meekly, motioning to the bathroom.
“Ah, no.” He swatted at the tears before she decided to look up again and see them. “It was—just sleeping in a strange place syndrome, that’s all.”
Haruka’s thin mouth curled down in the tiniest of frowns. She didn’t understand. “Please, sleep.” She gave a small bow and left the room quietly.
He ran a hand through his sleep tussled hair wondering if she had just called him young Master? Ash was obviously younger and she called him plain “Master.” Whatever, it was way too early to be pondering the meaning of shit, especially these strange people. God, it wasn’t even worth it to get out of bed anymore. He just wanted to sleep and forget.
“Fuck it,” he huffed and tossed his head back into his pillows knowing he had to get some sleep before confronting his eccentric host again. Joy.
HE’S dreaming, perhaps I should join him to bask in his pain.”
Wasn’t that the reason this monster was here?
Ash sighed, eyes still shut. Far too tired to deal with him today. Unfortunately, it was daylight still, the unwelcomed guest wouldn’t be able to leave until the sun had. “You are disturbing my rest. Go away.”
That familiar laugh engulfed Ash. “Always so negative. And cruel.” Again, a deep laugh and Ash’s eyes opened. The guest was naked. Of course he was. “You tickle my dick so. Ah I wish we could do this in person. These settings always leave me feeling lacking.”
Ash stared cold eyes at him. “You mean libidinous.”
That laugh again. It touched Ash in a way that Ash hated and loved so very much. “You always say the best things.”
Ash tried again to gain control. “You do not belong here. I should find where your body rests and kill you.”
“Ah, if it were that easy you would have done it long ago. Chasing after me like a lost puppy for so long. You’re weak. You’ve always been weak.”
Ash was humbled; he was right. He had always been right. “Why are you disturbing my sleep?”
He titled his head to the side, considering. After a moment, his lips stretched into a broad grin. “Oh, I see… She’s been here, hasn’t she? That nosey child.”
“I am sure I do not know what you mean.” Ash rolled away, back to the guest. “Leave me be.”
He tisked disapprovingly. “You disappoint me. Don’t you know what is in your own home?”
“What?” Ash sat up. “What are you…” Then remembered. Ash had gone out earlier that night, right? Came in contact with that dirty jikininki, “Shizuka” she called herself. There was that loudmouthed American, Tristan. And then, then…
“Ha! You’ve been striped. How careless of you.”
“What, that is absur—” Ash’s lips parted, a shaky breath coming through. Beyond careless, letting her get too close. “Kono ama,” Ash hissed. It was not like Ash to curse, but if one must, Japanese seemed less harsh. It was, after all, one of Ash’s more favored languages.
The guest burst into laughter. “Oh I do love unnerving you. Hearing you curse makes me hard too.” As if he ever needed help with that.
The athletic, naked man stepped forward. There was nowhere for Ash to go, trapped at the head of the bed. Even knowing it was a mere dream, a construct, there were plenty of weapons close enough that would still do harm to the intruders real body. But the effort was not worth it. He had always been faster, charming. Dominant. His word was always final.
He is also a mad fool.
“I heard that,” he said giving Ash a pointed look and then sighed. “Ah, I guess there is nothing for me to do here now. It’s no fun if you don’t remember what you fight for.” He stepped around to the end of the be
d, long fingers caressing the post as if he were tickling someplace private. He pressed his nose to the wood like he was trying to smell inside of it.
“That—” Ash shirked back when the guest climbed onto the end of the bed and started to crawl up.
“Don’t worry so hard, you’ll age yourself terribly.” He laughed when Ash gave him a dirty look. “Besides, I’m enjoying the show so far. Good foreplay always makes the climax so much sweeter, don’t you think?”
“I—leave. Or I will put a bullet into your skull.”
“You and I both know that will only piss me off more. And I don’t think you’re prepared to take my head just yet. Admit, you love our little game. You love me.”
Ash sighed, eyes shutting for a moment. “I will do what must be done. And I am so very tired of chasing you.”
“I’m right here, my dear,” he said with a huge, disgusting grin. When Ash’s eyes opened again, he was hovering. Too close. The scent of sex and death… overwhelming. Immobilizing. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
Ash had to swallow back the doubt. “I would rather die than have you in my bed again.”
He burst into laughter. “It’s not your bed I want a piece of, my dear.”
“Yes. And that piece of me dislikes you as much as the rest.”
“Oh, you hurt my feelings.”
“You have no feelings to be hurt.”
“You do know me best.”
It was a line Ash had heard many times from Shishō too. “Unfortunate,” Ash said dryly.
“No,” he said, lowering himself onto Ash. “The unfortunate is that our time is up. I was hoping to have longer to… chat with you.”
A tremor tore down Ash’s spin for the very wrong reason. “You mean maiming.”
“Ah,” the vampire said, grinning all fang. “It is what I do best.”
4: More Than Human
BIG surprise, Tristan didn’t sleep well. He didn’t know if it was the insanity that happened at the club—including whatever Shizuka drugged him with—his new friend, or the nagging feeling of being watched all day as he tried to sleep. Also, his normal routine of drinking himself into a comfortable stupor was not fulfilled.
Beautiful Death Page 4
