Beautiful Death

by Christina Moore

  “Sure don’t. What? It’s the truth.”

  Ash gave a soft harrumph and he shrugged. Trying to focus on what she was saying and not the shape her body made in her jumpsuit, he listened as she explained the ways of kendo. After a lengthy, philosophical explanation about being one with the sword and some other crap he didn’t get, and his eyes had glassed over, Ash finally decided showing was better than telling. With a cry and wicked grin, she jumped towards him, sword out. He swung like she had shown him, only far more clumsy and managed to make contact with her, catching her across the cheek.

  The katana slipped from his fingers, falling to the grass. “Oh holy shit. I’m so sorry, Ash. I didn’t mean to—”

  Ash burst into laughter, shutting him up. She swiped a hand across her bleeding cheek and he gasped. The cut was already gone. He flexed his sore right forearm, feeling the skin pull against the stitches, wishing he healed that well. The trade up though, he was sure wasn’t worth it.

  “Showing sympathy for your enemy… that will only get you killed!” She jumped at him again. He yelped and stumbled backwards, tripping on his own feet. On instinct alone, he kicked up and out as he fell back and hit Ash’s hands. Lucky for him, being barefoot and unarmed. Having taken the blow, Ash moved out of his reach and stopped to grin at him. “Not bad. I shall have to be more mindful. You are better than you seem.”

  “If you only knew,” he answered with a cocky grin, way too pleased with himself for landing a hit on someone that was supposed to be so much faster than him.

  He picked up his sword and took stance again, ready to continue their lesson. Ash happily obliged. Half an hour later the gash on his forearm started to hurt like hell. Every time he swung too hard the stitches bit into his skin. Blood was starting to show through the bandage in small dark crimson spots and he wondered how Ash was doing with the fresh blood. He knew she smelled it by the heated, hungry look in her eyes; by the way she chewed on her lower lip. She managed to not bite herself, but he figured it was only a matter of time.

  Two hours later Tristan was littered with small cuts, exhausted and aching. Swinging a sword was more work than it looked. He was taking a short, much needed break slumped over his sword and desperately trying to catch his breath. In his defense he was only more tired than he would normally have been from being cooped up in Ash’s house for so long. When big bad vampires were after you, you lost simple privileges like going to a gym to work out.

  Ash stood patiently several feet away with a snide, closed-mouth smile, quietly watching. She had been getting the best of him all night. Didn’t even break a sweat. She was lithe and quick, her precise movements betrayed the hidden power that pale, soft skin hid. And if one was smart, they’d know there was a dangerous, deadly creature hidden in that gorgeous wrapping of creamy, smooth skin and tight leather.

  “You… enjoying yourself?”

  “Most fun I have had in months, thank you.” Ash grinned enough to flash the tip of a sharp tooth and then she was coming at him, sword out.

  “Shit,” he hissed, fumbling to at least block the coming attack. Ash closed the space separating them way too fast for his comfort and he mumbled, “Too fast.”

  She tumbled into him hard enough to force him back a step. He caught her against his chest, barely blocking her attack. She looked serious about hitting him. And while he knew without a doubt that she wouldn’t seriously hurt him, the worry knotted his stomach nonetheless.

  There was small sting and a tickle on his neck and he realized that she’d gotten him. She more than notice too, eyes fixed on his neck, tongue lapping at a dainty fang. Her chest heaved against his, the pounding of their hearts competing on whose could be more frantic. Instincts screamed at him to run, but there was something else, something darker that said he had to stay. She wanted to bite him and he wanted to let her.

  He let out a long breath and lowered his sword to the ground, pushing hers down with it. He held her to him by a thin shoulder and whispered her name, leaning into her. She flinched and looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time since falling into him. They were only inches away, their breaths caressing each other’s face. When she didn’t move away, he cupped one of her cold cheeks into his hand. She tilted her face into his touch, ever so slightly, but he felt the movement and slid his other hand down her arms slowly until she shut her eyes and shuddered against him. Hesitant, he gently wound his arm around her slender waist.

  Something inside him called to her. It was that strange feeling he had when she shared a dream with him that second night. That feeling that said they belonged with each other. In blood. And she was just his type, beautiful and strong, even if her sense of humor took a bit of getting used to. He wanted her the way a man wanted a woman. And he wanted her to want him the way a vampire wanted a human and more.

  Ash licked her lips and lifted her chin towards Tristan’s. She looked like she was either going to say something or kiss him. He knew which he wanted in that moment. Just as he was leaning in for that kiss he wanted so badly, Ash cleared her throat and pushed against his chest. Reluctantly, he let her go. She back stepped quickly and spun away, putting her back to him. She gave her blade a quick cleaning flick and re-sheathed it harshly, making a rough noise.

  “You...,” she said in a soft voice and then cleared her throat to speak more clearly. “You need a break. Go rest and come back once you have gotten your breath.”

  He stared at her back, wondering what just happened. They were having fun, even if the sparring was hard work. And then that intimate moment just slammed into them, the almost kiss. But now, she almost sounded angry. Tristan sighed and turned away. “Whatever you say.”

  “Come back in thirty minutes,” she said softly and he chanced a glance at her. She was standing stiffly, staring out into the darkness, the mountains beyond the yard. Her back was very unexpressive.

  “Fine,” he answered and left her standing alone outside. Still completely in the dark about what had just happened between them, he shuffled off to his room to cool down. And it had nothing to do with the hard work out she’d just given him.

  He was sure she had to at least feel the same connection he did with her. Then again, her connection probably had nothing to do with primal lust and everything to do with hunger. His blood. She’d told him before that humans were nothing but food to the vampire. Guess that meant he was nothing more than just a quick snack. Right?

  12: Don’t Stay Home

  FIRST thing the following evening Ash announced they were going out. Part of Tristan was a bit worried. Last time they went out, he almost died. So… yeah. But, the other half? The half that was more pride than anything was relieved. After the incident last night with their almost kiss, Ash pretended like nothing happened, all business. Not even that weird sense of humor she had made a showing. Which made the whole damn situation all that much more uncomfortable. Despite the fact that they were assholes to each other in the beginning, he was starting to like her. Really like her. Strong, competent and independent women were always a turn on for him. His weakness. But Ash had made it clear that she was nothing more to him than his bodyguard and he was nothing more to her than a walking lunch box. Tristan thought maybe it was better when he believed she was a he. At least then he could ignore whatever strange feelings he was having since they were both dudes. But this Ash, the femme fatale, she couldn’t be ignored.

  After their extensive sparring yesterday, the wound on Tristan’s right forearm was a throbbing mess. It was healing pretty well, but could have done without the workout that pulled and stretched the tender torn skin. Ash ended up replacing two of the stitches when he woke and then wrapped it well under a thick layer of fresh gauze. The rest of him, his chest and arms, were covered in tiny nicks Ash had given him during practice.

  Haruka kindly returned his bag after yesterday’s leather pants incident and he dressed in a pair of old dark wash jeans worn at the knees and a long-sleeved charcoal gray Under Armour shirt. He wasn’t sur
e where he was going, but had the strong feeling that he’d be meeting more vampires tonight and wished he had real armor. Instead of a suit of mail, he decided the best he could do was his old motorcycle jacket. The leather helped cover and, in theory, protect the bandage on his right arm, even if the vamps could still smell the wound. They’d have to work for it if they really wanted it.

  In preparation for “going out” Ash leant him a gun with a belt holster. It was a nylon piece that set the gun on his right outside thigh and was mildly uncomfortable, cutting a little too close to his balls. But, it was better to have protection and be a little uncomfortable than getting slashed or chewed on by a vampire. Again. He also had the same sword he practiced with last night. It wasn’t as highly decorated as Ash’s, a plain black sheath and a teal-green sageo—hilt wrap. But, like Ash’s, it was fairly worn. He hoped to not add to it tonight.

  Ash was waiting impatiently in the foyer, arms crossed under her chest, foot tapping on the bamboo floor. She’d dressed in a pair of skin tight leather pants with a dark gray zip-front leather vest without a thing underneath. She wore her two Baby Eagles in a double shoulder holster, her own katana fastened to her left hip on a wide belt. Over her knee high, lace-up boots, she had strapped on a large silver handled knife.

  Tristan couldn’t help but smirk up at her as he sat on the foyer ledge to pull on his Doc Martens, recently acquired from his wrecked apartment. “You look like you’re ready to kick some serious ass.” He wondered if she would kick his ass and then thought the idea of it sounded fun. God, there was something wrong with him.

  “Well prepared, if you will,” she answered with a mischievous grin.

  He chuckled, happy that they seemed to be back to normal and stood, adjusting his jacket back into place. “So, where are we off to looking so badass?” He put a hand on his sword hilt for badass emphasis.

  Ash laughed lightly. Tristan smiled at the softness of the laugh, thinking she really was a beautiful woman and the shame of it that she felt she had masquerade as a man when she went into public.

  She heard the thought and frowned. “We are meeting with Yukihime.”

  “Oh, that’s tonight huh? So, this Yukihime person, she’s not that super old vampire you told me about, your ally, is she?”

  “She is,” Ash said with a small nod. “She may have more answers for us than our dear friend, Aaron.”

  Tristan wondered if the gash on his arm was the price of a little information from Aaron, what would be the price of big information from Yukihime. “Do you really think she can tell us what’s going on?”

  “One can only hope.” Wasn’t exactly an overwhelming yes.

  “Okay, then why all the fire power? I mean, she’s on our side, right?”

  Ash started out the front door, speaking over her shoulder. “I prefer to be prepared when I go out.”

  There was more to that statement then what she said. He could hear it in her voice, the worry she tried to hide under confidence. He was getting better at reading her and frankly, didn’t like it much since it meant that despite going to an ally’s, they needed to be heavily armed and ready.

  Tristan nodded to her lovely backside and followed her out the front door. “Okay,” he said, eyes fixed on her ass, “I guess I can understand that. But why didn’t you just ask her about Malik first instead of going to Aaron?” And get him torn up... “Seriously, he seemed like a nobody.”

  A terse laugh slipped from her. “Your assessment of Aaron is correct. As far as vampires go, he was very low in standing and in ability. However, going back to Yukihime… things are not so straightforward with the Snow Princess. She does not simply tell one things, not without some sort of recompense.”

  “What sort of recompense?” he asked falling in next to her.

  Ash gave him a look. She didn’t want to say. Sometimes it was something simple and ridiculous, like a blade of bamboo or a ladybug. Other times it was more complex and… personal. “Her wants can be eccentric. When one does not give, she takes.”

  “Sounds like Malik.”

  Ash raised her brows at him. “You do not know him.”

  “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

  She considered him for a moment, thinking how different he was from her first assessment of him in that loud club nights ago. He was nearly tolerable, far sharper on matters than she liked. He was a good man, not without his qualms, and mostly reasonable. She could relate to him and without meaning to, she was speaking about something she probably should have kept to herself. “He was here the night I brought you home.”

  “What!” Tristan yelped, coming to a sudden stop, kicking up rocks and driveway dust. “What do you mean… how—”

  Ash turned slowly and frowned, seeing the fear in his eyes. “I think he was here to assess you, but it was during the day and…”

  “And, what?” He took a heavy step towards her.

  “I do not know exactly.”

  “Ash,” he said with a sigh. “What are you talking about?”

  Ash heaved her own sigh. “Yukihime proceeded Malik’s visit.”

  Tristan put a hand to his forehead, rubbing at it. His brain hurt. “So they both were here, what did they want?” And why wasn’t he dead? That’s what he really wanted to know.

  “Malik came only in image. It was during the day and he dreamshared.”

  He dropped his hand. “And Yukihime?”

  “Apparently, that was a much more… intimate visit.”

  “Apparently? What do you mean, apparently?”

  Ash cleared her throat, looking stiff and uncomfortable. “What I mean is that she was here, but I do not remember it entirely.”

  “Whoa, wait up. What the fuck do you mean, not remember? Like she did something to you, not remember? Like… vampire shit?”

  Ash cringed to herself. The loudmouthed American was smarter than he seemed. Of course, she already knew this and yet, she “accidently” said too much. She looked him in the eye. “Yes, vampire shit,” she said mocking him and hating that she cursed. “From what I remember, and what Malik and Lucien has said to me, Yukihime came to see me just before sunrise the night I brought you here. And she bit me.”

  “And?” Tristan prompted.

  “And… she took my memories.”

  “You’re serious? Jesus Christ. What, how can you trust her?”

  Ash shrugged lightly. “I owe my life to her. Many times over.”

  That sounded darker than if a normal person would have said it. Being a vampire, Tristan could only imagine what sort of life she’s had. And not an easy one. Tristan sighed, letting Ash see how weary he was. “So you trust her?”

  Ash didn’t even hesitate to answer, “No.”

  “Wow, don’t think too hard on it.”

  Ash raised a shoulder and dropped it. “She is as reliable as someone who has lived as long and seen as much as she has can be.”

  He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he didn’t have the balls to ask. “I don’t like it.”

  Ash nodded and then gave her own sigh. “I have no other to turn to. She knows who you are. I am sure of it if she took my memories from me. She is… she is being Yukihime.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ash gave a wry smile. “You will see.”

  “I don’t fucking like it,” he said again.

  “I agree. However, I may be able to regain my memories… if she allows it and we will not have to deal with her again.”

  “That sounds like a big fat hairy if to me.”

  “Yes,” she answered simply.

  “And Malik? What did he want?”

  “Like I said, I believe he just wished to assess his enemy.” And to gain admittance to Ash’s bed again, even if was only in the mind.

  “He doesn’t even know me,” Tristan snapped.

  Ash took a step towards him, expression soft and sympathetic. “He does not need to. He sees something that frightens him and he destroys it. It is all he
knows.”

  Tristan stared at her a moment. “I’m nothing to be afraid of.”

  Ash smiled. “Come, let us not keep Yukihime waiting.”

  Tristan groaned, but followed her. “All right. But it’s only because I trust you.” He hadn’t realized he truly meant it until the words were coming out of his mouth. There was no reason to, what with their interesting start and the lies, but there it was. He trusted Ash.

  Ash stopped and gave him a look over her shoulder and he realized that she’d heard him. But instead of a cheesy thank you, she gave him a silly smirk and kept walking. That alone said more than those two little words of gratitude.

  He fell in behind as they continued across the driveway. He was so focused on the sway of her ass that he wasn’t prepared for when she stopped suddenly and spun to face him, grinning. He opened his mouth to give some bullshit excuse for what he was “really” doing when he looked up past the leather wrapped vampire. A second motorcycle, new and shiny gray, was parked next to Ash’s electric blue.

  Tristan gave her a confused look. “Wha—what’s this all about? Did you... is that for me?”

  Ash tossed a new helmet at him. He almost didn’t catch it, still confused as to why she’d go through the trouble of buying—or stealing—a bike for him. It wasn’t like he didn’t have his car.

  “It is fine. Really, it was no trouble, Tristan.” The smile washed from her face, shifting to something near disgust. Her brow pinched sharply, marring her ethereal beauty. “My not feeding on humans does grant its unfortunate side effects. I would prefer to not be in the car with you, if you do not mind.”

  He could only imagine.

  She shook her hair back, though it was already in a tight braid, and pulled on her helmet. She held out a key. Tristan looked at it and back at her. “What? You prefer to ride bitch again?” she asked with a smirk.

  He stomped up to her and snatched the key from her hand, mumbling something about not riding bitch. He pulled on the new helmet, happy that it actually fit and then hopped on the bike, thumbing the ignition. God, he loved that sound. He missed his old Kawasaki. But this, this new bit of shiny helped. As he was getting comfortable, getting the feel of the new machine, he kicked something that felt out of place and looked down.