It was only mid-afternoon when he finally gave up and climbed out of bed. Before he knew what he was doing, Tristan found himself standing over the wet bar, staring at the bottles of vodka, whiskey and other top shelf liquors. Ash kept a nice stock, plenty to drown himself in. His fingers ached to reach out and take a bottle. He needed to fill that empty place with its favorite drug.
In the end, he forced himself away from the bar, hands shaking and nearly sweating with the effort. He needed to be straight, who knew what else was going to happen. Torn from his only love, he wandered the Great Room for a time, keeping a keen ear out for the home’s less-than-normal inhabitants, only to discover the house dead quiet. He did his best to avoid even looking at the bar, lest he be tempted again. The thought to leave had occurred to him. Only, he had to know what was going on. What was that old saying about the cat and curiosity? Yeah.
Sometime near dusk Haruka appeared and fed him a luxurious dinner. She was still super awkward around him and he wondered if she was mentally okay. There was just something about her that just want’s right. The dog ate too, much to his disgust. A raw diet was good in theory, he just didn’t want to see it. After everyone’d been fed, Tristan found himself in the Great Room again, only this time there was music playing. It was classical and completely depressing.
God, didn’t these people listen to anything that didn’t make you want to slit your wrists?
There was a fire lit in the hearth that hadn’t been there before dinner and while the temperature outside wasn’t quite cold enough, it was nice anyway. And there was that bar again, a comfort if any, staring at him. The bottles each had their own voice and they were all screaming at him to come have a taste.
God, how he wanted that taste. Foul temptresses.
The sound of nails clicking on the hardwood brought his attention around to the hall. “Hey, girl, you following me?” he asked and knelt to pet her, looking into her bright blue eyes. “Well, hello, aren’t you just stunning? What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“What are you doing here?”
The dog bounced over to Ash with a small bark of excitement.
“What?” Tristan asked with a scowl. “This room is off limits now?”
Ash was standing in the doorway before him, looking frazzled. He hadn’t slept well thanks to his late day visitor. If what the unwelcome vampire had said to Ash was so, then that would explain the confused thoughts in Ash’s mind, why he couldn’t remember how he came about bringing the American into his home. The man was pleasant enough to look at least. Tall, thick black hair, deep blue eyes. Ash felt as if he knew those eyes from somewhere. A distant memory. Perhaps one Shishō had helped herself to.
Damn her for messing with his mind. Everything was a jumbled mess. He nearly had a headache. The absurdity of it.
“No.” Ash cleared his throat. “This is Pandora.”
Haruka called out from the kitchen and Pandora ran off.
“Nice dog,” Tristan said, trying to be civil. The night was fresh and Ash hadn’t hit him yet, so he could play nice. Didn’t mean he liked the guy or anything.
“Thank you. She is a dear friend, always respect her.”
Tristan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the odd statement. And he was wearing those light purple contacts again. What was with that? The guy was turning out to be weirder and weirder. “Why am I here?”
One of Ash’s bleached brows rose. “Because I saved you.”
Tristan scowled. “Saved me,” he mumbled. Pretentious jerk off. “Look, I know you know what’s going on.”
“I do.” Ash mumbled in answer as he passed in front of Tristan. His long hair was pulled back tightly into a leather barrette, making it look short from the front, but Tristan still thought it made him look like a girl. The young man was poured into skintight black leather pants, showing how lean his legs were all the way down to his tabi socks. He wore a mid-thigh dark gray kimono style on top with a simple white sash holding it closed.
On his left hip was the sword he used last night on Shizuka. The sheath was beautifully lacquered black wood, hand painted with dark purple and silver engraved dragonflies. The hilt was wrapped in the same deep purple from the sheath, fashioning a diamond pattern around the handle. It was most definitely authentic and the wear on the hilt wrap and sheath edges said Ash put it to use often too. Despite the attentive cleaning Ash gave it upon waking, it still bore the stench of jikininki.
“And?” Tristan prompted when Ash was silent for too long.
Ash turned, eyes going over him, considering, probing. Made Tristan uncomfortable. “You would not believe me if I told you the truth.”
“No one gets to tell me what I think or feel.”
Ash raised a brow at him.
“Try me,” Tristan challenged.
Ash sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose with two delicate fingers.
“I don’t know what you think you know about me, but I’m open to all sort of philosophies. Unless you’re talking about… I don’t know, shit like ghosts and werewolves… God, then I might believe you.”
Ash bit his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure if laughing was the right response to what Tristan had said so he opted to hold it back. “Then you definitely will not believe anything I have to say.”
“So… what? You’re saying all of those things are true?”
“Yes.”
Tristan tisked, shaking his head. “You’re really a weird dude, you know that?”
It hadn’t taken Ash long to figure out the tall American hid behind sarcasm. However, it was going to wear on him all too quickly. Ash gave a small shake of his head, sighing, and removed the sword from his waist. After the sword was safely propped next to the fireplace, he took a seat in one of the chairs before the great stone fireplace.
“That may be so, but that does not change the fact that you are being hunted.”
Tristan couldn’t hide his skepticism. He always did wear his emotions so clearly for all to see, unashamed and boldly.
“Hunted by what? That zombie from last night?”
He couldn’t believe he actually used the Z-word and meant it. He did say he was open to all sorts of ideas, but even that one just seemed too… unnatural. That last night happened was not an illusion. Drugs or no drugs, he knew what he saw and what he saw was impossible. And yet, if he started doubting his own eyes what hope was there to accepting the truth? Even if the truth was impossible.
“That thing, the one going by the name of Shizuka, was just a servant of the one you hunts you. She was just a simple jikininki. Not really a danger at all, in the bigger scheme of things.”
Tristan swallowed hard, nervousness making a lump in his throat. “And what’s the bigger scheme of things?”
“The purpose? I do not know. I just know that the one who hunts you goes by the name of Malik and he is…” Ash’s mouth screwed up as he fell silent.
With a huff, Tristan stomped over to stand over Ash. Even with his obvious vexation, Ash could see the fear brimming below the surface. If he didn’t go into this with some ease he might scare the man off.
“What? He’s what? A man, a monster? The fucking pope? Just tell me already.”
Ash let out a breath and not really having decided to answer, he did. “Vampire.”
Tristan stared for a stunned moment and then threw his hands into the air. “You really are a fucking nutcase.” He turned and looked like he meant to leave but stopped short of leaving the room.
“Why me?”
Ash sighed, looking genuinely distraught. “I, I do not know.”
Tristian frowned, looking up at Ash. The man was sitting stiffly in the chair, watching him with a practiced patience Tristan never learned. He wondered if the man could hear his heart pounding in his chest, the rush of blood and adrenaline in his veins. Everything was turned up, out of focus. He was having a panic attack. At least this one was silent and didn’t involve throwing shit.
He believed. He didn’t kno
w why, but he believed. Was it watching Shizuka rot and then carry on as that dead thing that did it for him? Maybe, but there was a frightening honesty to Ash’s words, the tone with which he spoke them.
“Will you tell me about yourself? Why you are here?”
Curious, Tristan turned and took a few steps back towards his host. “You came to me last night, pal. Walked right up and used my name like we were old fucking friends. So why don’t you tell me what you know about me and then we’ll see what else needs to be known, yeah?”
Ash swallowed hard, his nervousness carefully masked with a stoic mien. “I have been following Malik’s movements for years. That he has struck up interest in you, interests me.”
“So that’s it then, I’m just interesting? You haven’t been watching me? Stalking me to find out who I am or nothing like that?”
Ash lifted his chin, eyes narrowing. “Do I come off as the stalker type?”
Tristan snorted and walked over to stand near the chair opposite Ash. “Yeah, kinda.”
A little smile quirked the corner of Ash’s mouth. “Malik is a monster. I have been trying to stop him for years, his wanton killing, but have been unsuccessful in killing the vampire himself, so instead I focus on saving the lives he seeks to destroy. All I know of you is your name and that you are American… and impertinent.”
Tristan’s harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Again, that brings us back to why. Why me?”
Ash shook his head, looking solemn. “Sadly, there does not have to be a reason with Malik. He does what he wants to whom he wishes with no consequences. For Haruka, it was Malik’s interest in her family’s money that drew him to slaughter her parents in front of her. It was only my intervention that saved the girl’s life. But such deeds come with a price. I saved her life, but her mind… Minds are far more fragile.”
Tristan felt uneasy again and dropped his arms to his side. “You’re telling me that I’m just some unlucky bastard that happened to attract the sick fucks attention then?”
Ash shut his eyes, bowing his head. “Yes, very possibly.” So why did it feel like that wasn’t it?
The other man was silent for a long time and when Ash looked up again, Tristan was staring at him with eyes a little too large, hands clenched a little too tightly. He was shaking.
“This is so fucked,” Tristan said in a trembling voice. “I… I came here to find—to put my life back together and now just because of, of happenstance or shit luck, now I’m going to become vampire food?”
Ash was silent considering Tristan. There was a question in Ash’s eyes and for some reason, Tristan wanted to tell this guy. He hardly told anyone he met since the accident why he was on crutches or why he was drinking at ten in the morning, but this stranger, this weird fucking dude with bleached hair and purple contacts in eyes full of emotion, he made Tristan want to share, to unburden.
“My parents died.” He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “It was a car accident. I was there and couldn’t stop it—I let it happen.” He shook his head feeling the well of tears burn his eyes. When he thought he might actually cry, he stomped away and helped himself to the wet bar without bothering to ask. A double shot of vodka went down harsh but it was like heaven to his conscious. He’d be numb soon enough and then all this crazy bullshit Ash was talking would make sense and not seem so bad. Life could be lived another day.
He did leave out the part of the accident where he thought he saw the shadowed man watching. To this day he still didn’t know if that little event even happened. There was nothing in the police reports about a third party at the scene helping or calling.
He also left out the part of his life that he wasn’t proud of. The things he did in the months following his parents’ deaths. Things he would do anything to take back now that he’d had a chance to reflect on his wayward behavior. Things that still leaked into the person he was today. He was trying so hard to be the old him again, the happy boy, innocent and carefree, but like everything since that night his family died, it was difficult. Maybe Tristan really died that night. He was already dead and just didn’t know it.
“Anyway, I found my birth certificate and it had a name on it I didn’t know so, so I followed the electronic information I could find here. My birth mother lives in this town. I haven’t seen her yet, but…” He sniffled and took another drink. “It doesn’t really matter anymore since it looks like I have to leave now.”
“Was there any subsequent investigation into the cause of the accident?” Ash asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Tristan nodded slowly. “Yeah, but they didn’t find anything. I mean, I was there, there was nothing. No cars, no people, no animals. Nothing. It was only us out there. It was like we just... crashed.”
“And your mother? What is her name?” Ash asked with aching sympathy in his voice that cut right through Tristan.
“Masuyo Ur—Uru… aw, fuck it. I’ll just write it down.” There was a pen in a sideboard drawer and using a napkin he wrote out the name. “I don’t know the Japanese characters for it… hell, I don’t know that I even spelled it right here. It’s kind of hard to pronounce.” He dropped the pen, grabbed another drink, more than he really needed and went over to Ash.
The other man took the napkin from him and furrowed his brow in consideration. “Your handwriting is atrocious,” Ash muttered, frown deepening as his eyes traced over each scribbled letter. “You are sure on this spelling?”
Tristan let out a long huff, sinking into the chair across from Ash. “Sure enough, I guess.”
Such confidence.
“Only one “i” at the end?”
“Yeah,” he answered a little more agitated. “I think so. Why, what does it mean?”
“Uruwashi,” Ash answered pronouncing it better than Tristan could. “They are just letters. I must see the kanji to fully understand its meaning.”
Tristan gave a dismissive shrug. “It’s at my place. So unless you feel like going for a quick trip into town…”
Quick indeed. “Town” was nearly a forty-five minute drive out of the country. And she was closer than town… Goddess of all, Ash hated the idea of going to her for help, after all she’d done.
After a long pause, Ash sighed. “I do not know what peaked Malik’s interest in you, Tristan. He may not even have a reason. But, I can tell you with full certainty, that even if you do leave, he will find you again. He will follow you wherever you go and carry out whatever fantasy he has in mind for you.”
“You mean, kill me.”
“Eventually.”
Tristan took in a shaky breath and then remembering the weight of the very full glass of straight vodka in his hand, took down a big gulp. “So… say I believe all this talk about vampires and ji—jiki—”
“Jikininki.”
“That. Say I buy it. Leaving means I’m good as dead. Stay, same thing, just a hell of a lot faster.”
Ash shook his head. “Perhaps. But if you stay here, with me, I can protect you.”
“Well,” Tristan sighed, slumping back into his chair again, “I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?” He really didn’t want to stay with Ash, but he didn’t want some vampire or zombie to have its way with him either. Ash was the lesser of evils. By far.
“Very well, now that is decided…” Ash stood with a soft grunt and went to retrieve his sword from the fireplace. “I will be going out for a short time. You are welcome to any room but my private chambers. And I do not wish to threaten you but you understand that Haruka herself is also off limits.”
Tristan ignored the implication of him being a cad, which he sort of was, and went to the part that made his pulse speed up. “You’re leaving?”
Ash nodded, preoccupied with tying the sword into place. “I have a friend, well, no, more of a neutral party.” Ash looked up. “A vampire ally that might know what Malik is scheming, if he schemes anything at all.”
Tristan couldn’t help be frown. There were so many thi
ngs wrong with what Ash had just said. “You’ve got a vampire for a friend?”
“Ally,” Ash corrected. “She is far too fickle to be friends with anyone.”
“Shouldn’t I uh, go with you?”
A secretive smile appeared out of nowhere. “Afraid of the dark?”
Tristan huffed at his host and got up. “Only if there’re vampires in it.” God, he was really buying all this supernatural horseshit, wasn’t he?
“The house is warded. It will not keep someone like Malik out but it will slow him down. I will also know if anyone welcomed or otherwise comes or goes from the house and I will not be so far that I cannot return in minutes.”
“Fine,” Tristan sighed and waved the guy off as he poured himself another drink. He didn’t care about answers anymore and just wanted to be numb. “Later.”
“Very well. Good night.”
“Yeah,” Tristan said dismissively. “Night.”
Ash was almost to the doorway when Tristan asked, “Hey uh, what exactly are jikininiki anyway?”
Ash smirked at Tristan’s poor pronunciation. “Man-eating demons. But do not worry, they do not live as long as their Masters, a week at best.”
Tristan’s mouth was hanging open in incredulity. “And they look just like us?”
Ash’s smile slipped away. “If they have eaten a human recently, then yes, they look human themselves.”
That body, back in the alleyway, Ash had said Shizuka had eaten it. God, he was going to be sick.
“So how the fuck do you tell them from us?”
An eyebrow rose. “You do not.”
Tristan was softly cursing under his breath when Ash left the room. From the foyer the other man called out, “Sweet dreams,” before the front door slammed shut.
Letting out a huff, Tristan collapsed back in a chair. “Unbelievable,” he grumbled and wondered what weird private joke his host was imagining when he said that. In the end, he was sure that he didn’t really give two shits.
Beautiful Death Page 5
