5: Slept so Long
VAMPIRES, jikininki, zombie… What a load of bullshit.
Tristan stumbled into his room and tripped on his own feet, falling face first. At least the bed was there to catch him even if half his limbs hung off. Soft, clean smelling bed, his new best friend. He rubbed his face against the comforter and sighed, settling in for a good nap. He waited up all night for his host to return but finally gave up when the sun started to come up.
Being up all night and drinking for most of it had left him thoroughly drunk and even more tired. Was Ash’s own fault anyway, filling his head with fairy tales marketed as truth and leaving him alone with no TV, no internet and very little else to do with Haruka off limits and almost no books in English, what the hell else was he supposed to do? At least he kept himself mildly distracted with Ash’s surprisingly extensive CD collection. Anything to help calm and distract his mind, loud rock music was almost as good as alcohol. Usually.
How could he believe anything Ash said? Vampires. Really. God, maybe he was still asleep, or drugged. That had to be it, because saying that rotting thing that was Shizuka was real was just…
“…fucking stupid…”
Aw hell, Tristan supposed that he wasn’t in such a bad place, if these things Ash had said were really true. He’d never admit aloud, but he was starting to kind of like the dude. Sure he had an odd sense of humor, but seemed like a stand-up kind of guy. He was helping Tristan and that was something he couldn’t forget. Tristan would find a way to repay him, it was the right thing to do.
Tristan felt himself starting to drift off when the front door slamming startled him alert. He groaned and started to lift up to get off the bed when a second door, just down the hall slammed too. With a huff, Tristan dropped back down on the bed and shut his eyes.
“Didn’t want to talk to him anyway,” he grumbled.
He was asleep within moments.
And then he wasn’t. There was noise in the room. He jarred awake, blinked up at the ceiling in confusion. He looked to check the time, but the bedside clock was out of reach and turned away from him. All of the curtains were open, moonlight showing in soft patches across the wood floor in wide bands. The window by the armoire was propped open, letting in a cool breeze and frowned wondering why it was dark again.
A shadow near the foot of the bed moved and Tristan sighed. God, was it really night again? Would explain why he didn’t feel drunk anymore at least.
“Haruka,” he groaned, trying to sit up and failing. His body was just so heavy. “What are you doing?”
He looked down as a figure stepped into the light of the open window and his pulse instantly sped up. The person was definitely not Haruka. Not unless Haruka had grown half a foot taller and had large breasts that he missed earlier. Not likely. The night breeze brought a soft scent to Tristan, her scent.
“Ca—can I help you?”
The woman smiled warmly and started towards the bed, swaying her hips more than necessary. She was showing off. Tristan chuckled and shifted to sit up and noticed that he’d gotten into bed at some point. He couldn’t remember stripping off and climbing under the covers, but there it was, only a thin sheet covering him to his waist. Tristan managed to sit up just enough to prop himself up on his elbows. When he saw the face of the person in his room he heaved a deep, annoyed sigh.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He huffed and flopped back onto his pillow again. “Seriously. Not funny, Ash.”
Tristan was just starting to understand that Ash had a dark sense of humor, he just didn’t realize the dude would take it so far, dressing up as a woman and coming into his room for… well, something Tristan wasn’t interested in. He wanted nothing to do with the boy parts. “I’m not into whatever this is... so get the fuck out.”
There was a warm chuckle with a definite feminine candor and then a cold hand grabbing his.
“Hey,” he snapped, “what the fu—”
His words were cut off sharply when his hand was thrust into the crotch of the person standing over him. There definitely were no boy parts. Okay, so not Ash. Then who was she?
The woman smiled slyly and leaned over him, putting a hand to either side of his upper body, pressing silk covered breasts to his bare chest. She let out a hot breath across his cheek, shifting his hair aside.
He wiggled under her, smiling. “Well, hello darlin’, what can I do ya for?”
She smiled, lowering her face to his, lips parted, just teasing him. Despite not having a clue who she was or why she was there—not to mention that she looked like Ash—he wanted her. God did he ever. There was a hot ball of tingling excitement in his belly that called to her like an old lover his body remembered and longed for.
Her lips grazed his cheek as she whispered, “Just relax.”
And his body did exactly that. He let out a long, slow breath and sank against the bed, feeling its warmth envelop him, hugging him. The woman’s weight bore down on him as she pressed herself to him, groin to breast. Even without her telling him to, he was going to let her do whatever she came here for.
“Yes, very good.”
“Who—” He had to take in a breath and force himself to concentrate to speak. “Who are you?”
She smirked, showing the first hint of white teeth. Instead of an answer, she wiggled against him, pressing her lower half against his hardness. He raised his arms, though they felt heavy as stone, and grabbed her. The bare skin of her shoulders was silk under his hands. She felt so good and smelled even better. He wanted to devour every bit of her. It’d been so long for him since he’d had good company. There was this incident before he left the States that kinda left a sour taste in his mouth. And a dent in his wallet, to say the least.
The woman pulled him back to reality as she pressed her lips to his temple. She gave him a butterfly light kiss and then let her lips drag across his skin as she moved down. He turned his face towards hers, ready to accept that next kiss to his lips, but at the last moment, she turned away. He groaned, trying to lift his arms to take her face into his hands, but they wouldn’t move anymore. He was a useless lump, a victim to her power. Oh god, but he wanted her to use him. She smirked and moved over him until she had a hand between their bodies, nails tracing lines on his chest. He groaned and tried again to move his arms to no avail. When she reached down and grabbed him through the sheet, that’s when he realized he could still move his hips.
“Oh god,” he moaned. “Listen, not that I don’t appreciate this, but who the hell are you? Are you Ash’s sister or something? Because I don’t think he’d approve of this…”
The hand moving over his groin stopped and the woman lifted her head to look at Tristan. God, there it was again, the undeniable truth that he was making out with Ash. Well, a woman that looked just like him anyway. That same sarcastic, crooked grin that Ash had made a brief appearance and then the woman was in a full-throated laugh that made Tristan’s skin tingle and his stomach tighten. And then he noticed something that made his pulse jump as he tried again to move. Only this time he wanted to get away because he was trapped.
By a vampire.
“It is fine…,” she said softly in her low ashy voice. “You are fine.”
She sounded so genuine, so kind. The fear was instantly gone with those three little words and he wondered if there was something more to them than just simple speech. He could feel it tug at his middle. She wouldn’t let him be afraid. Those words held a magic.
He had a small thought that maybe she really wasn’t a vampire. That the fangs were only press-on fakes.
She grinned and plucked at one. “They are most assuredly real, Tristan.”
He muttered a resigned curse, giving over to his new fate. This vampire was going bite him and he’d let her just because she said so. He didn’t care that she was going to bite him. He didn’t care that she made him not care. “Damn…” The words barely left his tongue.
She let out a soft chuckle and bent to him again. �
��Just a taste.”
Tristan let out a quick breath, his lips parting to accept hers, but at the last moment she veered away, mouth dragging across his skin in a damp line until they settled on a spot below his ear. Her breath came out hot against his flesh and he ran with goose bumps, shivering. Her lips opened across his neck, a molten wetness and the press of teeth made his eyes shut as he moaned, suddenly wild with anticipation. Something in him, though slightly frightened, wanted this. Yes, this was what he had wanted all along, her hot lips on his neck, sharp teeth pressed to his flesh. Push harder, and harder. Break the tension and then slip in, take everything he had to give. Yes, have him whole, vampire. Drink to your content…
The pressure built and just when he was sure his skin would finally give, spill forth his life’s blood into her hot mouth he was sitting up in bed, gasping for air. Alone. “Oh, fuck me!” he gasped, clutching his neck. “What the...?”
He swiped a hand across his forehead to push the damp hair away. Staring at the bright sun streaming through the windows, he realized the truth of the woman. She was a dream. Just a fucked up dream.
6: Hideaway
WHEN Tristan woke again it was past dusk, so said the little silver clock on the nightstand now turned to face him. He couldn’t believe he slept so long. So much for getting his sleep back on schedule. Guess he didn’t really have one to start with, not with the post-accident insomnia.
His brain ached, just behind his eyes, reminding him of the booze he had indulged in last night. But the faint pain would be gone soon. No matter how much he drank, Tristan never got a hangover and his headaches were always very short lived. Good genetics? Maybe. Whatever the reason, he was grateful for it.
A soft scent found him and immediately the thought of that sexy woman he dreamed so vividly about. He could still feel her touch, the press of her breasts against his chest, the sensation of soft lips opening across his neck. He slipped farther down under the sheets and shuddered, feeling as if she had just caressed him again. You know, the woman that looked like Ash. God. There was something seriously wrong in his head to be dreaming about Ash as a woman. And a vampire on top of that. What could the dream have meant though? As far as dreams go it was fairly normal. Who didn’t dream about sex, or the promise of sex, right? And the vampire part was because of last night’s choice discussion, that he got. But did the woman have to look like Ash?
He groaned and rolled over, wondering if he should even bother asking Ash about it. Maybe he had a sister, or a twin. Yeah, that had to be it. Or maybe it was the vibe he kept picking up from the guy. Either way, Tristan was sure he was in the wrong place.
“Jesus Christ,” Tristan groaned as he climbed out of bed, “What the hell is wrong with me?”
As he got up he was shocked to find he was in bed naked. He slept that way some nights, but he was sure he’d fallen into bed last night fully clothed. Every part of him hoped that it was Haruka that helped him out of his clothes and not Ash. He shook off a sudden image of Ash stripping him down and enjoying it.
After a quick shower and some clothes, Tristan decided it was time to check out of Hotel Ash. While he didn’t completely dislike the guy anymore after speaking with him last night, he thought it best to leave the country. If this Malik person, vampire, really wanted to kill him then he’d have to cross the seas for him. It seemed like so much effort for a nobody.
Tristan only got as far as the door to his room before he found the way blocked. He let out a shocked sort of gasp and jumped back. Ash was standing in the hallway, arms crossed over chest and a crooked shit-eating grin on his face. Tristan wasn’t prepared to see him again so soon, not with the memory of that woman so fresh on his mind. He had to stifle a shudder. And not the good kind.
“Uh, morning,” Tristan said, uncomfortable all of the sudden. Couldn’t imagine why.
Ash’s grin softened. “Good evening. Going somewhere?”
Jesus, how did he know? “No…”
Ash raised a single brow as if he didn’t believe him. “Haruka has prepared dinner for you and then we are going out.”
“Where to?”
“Someone I need to speak with. You are coming with me.”
Tristan pushed past him, careful not to touch him. “Care to elaborate?” Tristan asked as he reached the front of the house.
“No.” Ash almost laughed and added, “How do I guarantee your life if I am not with you?”
He looked at Ash with a bit of confusion. “How is today any different than yesterday? Did you go see that vampire you needed to talk to?”
“We spoke, yes.”
“And?” God, why was he being so tightlipped all the sudden? What a pain in the ass.
“She could not say.”
Tristan furrowed his brow at Ash, curious. “Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?” Ash only cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Fine, have it your way. Where’s the chow?”
Ash looked confused. “Chow? No, Haruka is Japanese, not Chinese.”
Tristan would have laughed if it wasn’t so dumb. “No. Where’s the chow? That’s like saying, where’s the grub.” When Ash looked even more confused, Tristan heaved a deep sigh. He couldn’t believe the guy didn’t know the slang. “Food.”
A single white brow went up. And then a single white finger. Thankfully, it wasn’t a rude gesture, just Ash showing him the way to the dining room. Just before Tristan let himself into the room, Ash called out from behind, “Come find me in the Great Room when you are ready... when you are done your chow.”
Tristan had to roll his eyes, but was smiling behind the annoyance. The dining room was beautifully decorated, luxurious, warm and inviting, though it didn’t look like it was used very often. Set in the center of the room was a blocky ebony wood table large enough to service ten. The back wall opened up almost completely to show a broad view of the back yard and the traditional Japanese water garden.
Haruka already had his meal set out, complete with a glass of wine, a glass of beer and some fancy snootish bottled water with Japanese writing on it. Haruka did that thing again where she just happened to appear every time he emptied his glass. And then his plate. The sixth sense kinda weirded Tristan out a little. She was still cute. He gave her a warm smile, thanked her for dinner. He got no response that he even existed in return. He understood why she was so off now and he felt for her. He just wished she’d look him in the face once. Under that, was the fear that maybe that could be him. Would Malik destroy a part of him like he did to Haruka, leaving him an empty shell? While he didn’t know the vampire, he got the impression that the monster wouldn’t let him go so easily.
Defeated by the tiny Japanese woman, Tristan let out a weary sigh and headed towards the Great Room for his next challenge. The music that had started halfway through his meal grew louder as he got closer and he realized it wasn’t a recording at all. Tristan turned the corner and stopped, frozen by the image before him. Ash was seated at the piano, long hair free of the barrette, swaying back and forth as he played. His eyes were shut, brow pinched in deep concentration as his hands worked in perfect grace over the keys. Despite there being no words the song was sad. Pandora was curled up under the piano as if she were deaf, fast asleep. The idea to bolt again, while the getting’ was good, entered Tristan’s mind. But then, he felt compelled to enter the room. Something about seeing the sleeping dog, her master and the sad music made Ash seem suddenly relatable, intriguing and real.
Tristan stepped into the room and Ash’s eyes snapped open, meeting his. The music cut off with a sudden abruptness that left him feeling strangely empty. “Sorry,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. You play—” Something nice to say, something nice... “Nice.” He groaned inwardly. Idiot.
“Thank you,” Ash answered near whisper as he stood, closing the keyboard tray cover, ignoring or not noticing Tristan’s awkwardness.
“Beethoven,” Ash whispered, gaze lingering on the piano and fingertips hovering over the cover. He wanted to
touch the cold white keys again. He could sit there all night if he hadn’t a care in the world. A shame he had too many. “Beethoven’s works, I find them very... moving.”
Seeing the other man act so emotional, Tristan thought again that maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. So far, he’d been nothing but helpful, even if he did hit him, and was even going out of his way to help him. Who knew, maybe Tristan made a friend in Japan after all.
The other man drew in a deep breath and snapped out of his solemn daze, expression clear of emotion. Tristan waited patiently while he tied back his hair and fastened the katana to his obi. The guy was dressed like a peculiar samurai again—an oversized deep purple kimono top that matched the inlays on the sheath of this sword—only he had on those tight-ass leather pants again. God, what was up with those pants already? At least the top covered his crotch.
“What, no gun? Tristan asked. Ash turned and blinked at him, startled. Like he’d forget something like the guy running around with two guns strapped to his back.
Ash suddenly smiled, slipping a matching tantō into his obi. “I thought perhaps you were too intoxicated to remember,” he said, giving Tristan a sly look.
Like ten beers was enough to get him loaded—not even close. It was whatever that zombie chick doped him with that made him pass out and Ash knew.
“Kore wa Murasaki Kaeru desu.”
“Heh?” Tristan grunted ineloquently.
“I call my sword Purple Frog. It has been very kind to me over the years.”
Frog? Didn’t sound very intimidating. “Whatever, dude.”
Ash turned sharply and made his way to the front door. “Let us go. We are running late.”
“Hot date, huh?”
“Did you forget so quickly?” Ash snapped. “I have a meeting. New avenues of investigation open new possibilities.”
Touchy. Tristan wondered what changed Ash’s attitude since last night. He seemed almost worried. That made Tristan uneasy. “A meeting, yeah, you said that. But not what for,” he said as he wiggled into his sneakers.
Beautiful Death Page 6
