“Enough!” If he only knew how cruel his words were, having to kill Haruka with her own hand. Ash had found Haruka lying face down next to the water garden in the back yard, bare feet hanging over the edge, the blood rolling slowly off her toes to make little soft plops into the water. She almost couldn’t believe her vampire eyes, senses. Of course they never lied to her. She could tell, even from across the lawn, that the girl was beyond help. Still, she had to try.
Ash collapsed to her knees and gently pulled the girl into her lap. Haruka was gasping for air, her throat had been torn. When those wide, terror filled eyes met Ash’s the girl actually smiled up at her. She knew Ash was there to help her. Mama would make it all better.
“I am so sorry, Haruka,” Ash said gently. “I cannot fix this.” Maybe if she’d arrived soon but it was too late now. Ash was too late.
Haruka shut her eyes, smiling. She knew she couldn’t be fixed. But Mama could take the pain away. Make it all go away.
“Yes, yes I can.”
Thank you, Kā-chan.
Ash put the gun to the underside of Haruka’s jaw and pulled the trigger. Never before could she remember a gunshot sounding so loud. Her hands were steady, but the rest of her trembled. She opened her hand and the gun tumbled to the ground. She didn’t want to touch it again.
“Aishiteru, Haruka. Gomeifuku wo inorimasu,” were the last words she spoke to her dear friend. And Ash would remember that moment for always. Until she died.
“I don’t want to die like that,” Tristan said softly. “And you can’t keep saving me. One day our luck is going to run out. I’d rather you be the one to bite me now than having to worry about being bitten by a strange vampire or worse, dying in your arms.”
“Do you even understand what you are really asking? You humans,” she hissed through clenched fangs, “you see something like immortality and think it is a novelty, a commodity... the Holy Grail. There is nothing novel or holy about it. I have lived long enough to respect the importance of death. You have no idea how hard this existence is. I promised myself long ago to never create another vampire and I intend to stick to such promises. I will not let feelings for you cloud my judgment. You ask far too much, Tristan.”
If they were going to argue, he wanted to see her face better. He stumbled out of bed and to the light switch. “Another?” Tristan squinted, the light hurt his eyes.
“What?”
“You said, “create another vampire.” Did you turn someone you regret making?”
“What—that is not what—Quit putting words into my mouth. And put on some blasted clothing!”
He sighed and carefully slipped into a pair of clean boxers, not bothering to find pants or a shirt. Seemed like too much effort at the moment anyway. He shuffled over to the dinette and plopped down in a chair, facing her. Cold.
Ash took a seat on the bench at the end of the bed and crossed her arms under her chest. She gave him a look; it may have been aiming for stern, but it came out pouting. A three-hundred and forty year old vampire could still pout, who knew?
“So tell me. What is it that I don’t understand? What is it that you won’t tell me?”
“I—there is so much—I do not know where to start.”
“How about you start by telling me what’s so horrible about being you. You seem happy enough.”
“Happy? Happy is a life where you watched your family die to the very man that took your own life and in turn gave you a new, darker life? A life where you are forced to kill others to liv, a life of pain and servitude. Hundreds of years of being used and abused. Begging to just die every day because there was such hopelessness. You call that a happy life? Of having to pull the trigger on your… on that poor child—” Anger quickly turned to pain. And tears.
Shit. Malik was telling the truth after all. Tristan went to her and dropped to his knees, wedging himself between hers as much as her nightgown would allow. He cupped her face into his hands, making her look at him. She met his eyes, but she was forcing herself to do it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” He sighed heavily. “Look. I want to live. I really do. But I’m not so naïve that I think you and I can stop Malik alone. Not after I met him.”
“You…”
He sighed. Guess she didn’t know after all. “I, I thought I died, but then I met Malik. We did that dreamshare thing. He broke my fingers, not the vampire I killed. And he bit me, the bastard.”
Her hand came out and she lightly touched fingertips to the bandage on his neck. “Thank the gods,” she whispered. “I thought that the one you killed did it… You have not been bitten.”
“Uh, yeah I have. I was there. Malik sunk his fangs right into me.” God and it felt so good.
Ash shook her head. “No, not actually. He dreamshared, yes? Then him biting you during the dreamshare means… We can make a dream real enough that you feel pain. If you are hit in your dream, your waking body will bear the bruise. If you are cut in dream, so will your real flesh. While he bit you in dream, since it was only… imaginary, there was no vampire saliva to infect you. Only the wound.”
He studied her face for moment and then said, “He killed my parents.” The words tasted dry and hollow.
Ash slumped. “Oh.”
He sighed and got up to take a seat next to her on the bench. “Yeah.” While it was nice to have some sort of closure, well, let’s just say that the rage was building. One man, a single person, destroyed his life. And for what? Fear? Fear of the words of fortune teller. Who’s to say that this teller saw what she thought she saw. Who’s to say that it was even true?
“Do not doubt the visions of a pythia.”
“I don’t even know a pythia.”
“You do not need to. They are the wisest of all beings on the planet and gravely misunderstood. Shunned out of ignorance and fear. But every single word spoken by the pythia has come to pass. I have no doubt in what Lilith speaks.”
“I only believe in what I can see. And no one, pythia, vampire, whatever decides my future. I decide my future. Me.”
Ash turned on the bench to face him, her smile telling him he was being naïve. “That is very noble. However…”
“You can’t fight fate!”
They both turned to glower at Yuki.
“Shishō?” Ash asked. She hadn’t noticed her presence until that moment.
The little vampire strode into the room like she owned the place wearing a white gown that didn’t quite hide her naked feet. “I just wanted to make sure Ryōshi-san was well. Kept my Desmond away long enough.”
Tristan looked to Ash. “Just how long was I out for?”
Ash bit into her lip.
“Seven days,” Yuki answered smugly.
His eyes widened. No wonder they thought he wasn’t going to wake.
“Hai, so glad you did. And you met Malik, I hear? Charming fellow, yes? But mad, never forget that.”
“No chance of that happening. He killed my parents.”
The little vampire’s eyes widened. She really didn’t know. “Did he? My, he has been busy. I should have kept better tabs on him. To imagine someone as terrified of leaving the continent as him would cross the seas… Things have gone too far.”
“Agreed,” Ash said quickly. “Which is why we move on him tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Tristan said not believing. “Isn’t that kind of sudden? What about my stomach wound, my fingers?”
Silent, Ash went to him and removed the bandage from his fingers. “Bend.”
When he hesitated, she grabbed the two fingers and made them move. Tristan expected pain, lots of pain, but what he got instead was a dull throb. “You… you can’t tell me they are healed already.
“I fixed them.”
“How?” he demanded and caught Yuki’s eye. She smirked knowingly.
“It does not matter,” Ash answered.
“The fuck it doesn’t.”
Ash cringed even as Yuki roared with laughter. “Oh I do
like him very much. Please, Asta-chan, if you ever tire of keeping him, I will be more than happy to take him.”
“I’m not a fucking puppy, go find your own Uruwashi whatever.”
“Ah, but you are the last, danshi. The last of the house of the Uruwashi.” Her expression went serious. “You are the only hope we have to surviving now.”
“Malik said I was going to destroy the whole vampire race.”
She titled her head. “Is that what he said? Well, I suppose we each hear the words of the pythia in our own way.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He glanced to Ash but she wouldn’t meet his eye.
“It means, pythia tellings are open to interpretation. The visions are never spoken in the literal.”
Tristan threw his hands up in the air and turned away, pacing the end of the bed. “What-the-fuck. All of this over a… a guess?”
“It is no guess, Tristan,” Ash said, standing off to the side away from the others.
Yuki stepped up to him, making him stop his angry pacing. “The pythia spoke of the Uruwashi and death certain. The Uruwashi existed on this earth to kill my kind. It is what they do. With that knowledge and being a man as weak and frightened as Malik, wouldn’t you wish to eliminate any possible threat? Who’s to say that one race or the other shall live. Because, I can tell you this, Tristan of the Uruwashi, I do not fully believe it was the vampire dear Lilith spoke of. I have not heard the actual words, verbatim with my own ears, but I believe she spoke on the end of a race. Vampire, human, one of the other shinwa… neither were named. I am even more so convinced now that maybe my kind will persevere.”
One of the other shinwa? What the fu— “I’m not going to kill out the human race. Or the vampire race,” he said, eyes flicking to Ash and then back to Yuki. “I’m only defending myself against those who are trying to kill me. After they’re all gone, I’m done.”
“You think things are so simple? You are naïve. Even knowing what you know, you think you can just live out your life in peace? You are the one Lilith, the most renowned pythia alive, has spoken of. You are the raven. You are the shinigami. You are the angel of death. And denying it will not change that fact. So now, knowing what you know, what will you do?”
“You want to know what I’m going to do?” He glanced at Ash and then took a step into Yuki, aware that he was trying to intimidate her with his height despite the fact that the pint sized brat was stronger. “I’m going to find Malik and end this. Then, I’m going to live. I’m going to live to die a happy, old man not afraid of anything. No more pythia, no more vampires, no more prophecy bullshit. I decide my future. Me.”
The little vampire smiled big, flashing her fangs. “I really do like you very much, Ryōshi-san.” She patted him on his wound and turned away, flashing a frightened-looking Ash a smile. “Please live. I wish to speak with you more in the future.”
There were a lot of words on the tip of Tristan’s tongue for the old vamp, but he decided to keep them to himself for once. Yuki stopped at the door and turned to face him again. “Remember, I have faith in you.” Her eerie clear eyes flicked to Ash. “Both of you. Ja na!”
22: Unexpected
AFTER the old loon and the giant bastard left, Tristan spent the evening in quiet reflection. Despite having slept for a week, he was tired. More like, mentally exhausted. He was convinced that Ash should bite him. There wasn’t much discussion, but the bottom line was that she refused. And no, nothing he said or thought could change her mind. At one point, he even considered asking Yuki to do it, and then realized how utterly insane that was. He understood Ash’s perspective, but his logic seemed sound. He was after all, only human. And while the will was strong, the flesh wasn’t. He was mentally ready to take on Malik. But he wasn’t ready to die. And that was what was going to happen. He knew it without a doubt.
So, at only twenty-four, he wrote a will. There wasn’t much to speak on—the house he inherited from his parents, an old VW that was always broken, and a small chunk of savings that managed to survive his post-accident habits, all were going to his oldest and dearest friend, Gillian Thompson. He also wrote a long note to her, apologizing, that he’d try to drop in the mail when they left tomorrow for Malik.
He wasn’t convinced that moving on Malik so soon was good idea either. Sure, he was all about running after the vampire just last week, but that was before that vanilla vampire nearly tore right through him. Before he realized just how weak he was. The proof of his weakness was now tattooed on him by way of a nasty scar. A scar that should have taken much, much longer to form. Ash was right about one thing, that he healed fast—disturbingly so. He expected to find a weeping wound, covered in stitches and other ugly things, but what he found was angry red skin sealed over a grapefruit sized circle on his stomach. The two fingers Malik broke in their dreamshare were healed, only stiff and a little achy. And the place he tore at Tristan’s neck was only a small knot of red skin where it’d healed over already.
Tristan was sure there was more to his healing than what his own body did. He was sure Ash, or that fucking nuts old vamp, did something to him too, but they wouldn’t say what. Hell, for all he knew, Ash didn’t remember anymore. God, he really hated that Yuki. And Desmond. And Lucien… There was a growing list of vampires that he was decidedly not on friendly terms with. Maybe there was a reason. Uruwashi ‘n all…
The following night, Ash woke as soon as the sun set. Tristan, having been up for hours was showered, dressed and ready to go. There weren’t many words between them, or any actually, as they loaded up on guns and other pointy things for their raid. He didn’t even argue about the leather pants Ash had given him. He just put them on. He couldn’t face her just yet, he was still angry with her for being so closed minded. If she’d only stop and listen to him, she’d realize he was right. There was no other way. So now, instead of living a slightly different life than he was used to, he’d lead none at all, not after tonight. He knew this was his last night. Still, he wasn’t going to go down without a nasty fight.
Tristan packed his car with the few items he brought back with him from his apartment, only because Ash told him to. The letter for Gillian and his will went into the glove box. He wasn’t sure how they’d get found, just hoped that someday, someone would. He stopped and stared off at the night. It seemed darker than other nights. The air colder, drier and smelling of snow.
And… fire?
Startled, Tristan spun and found the back of the house on fire. He started to run for the front door and stopped when Ash came out, expression closed off and eyes half lidded cynical. He took a step back to let her by. She pushed past him without a word, carrying a bronze urn in her arms.
“Ash?” he pressed, expectantly. There was a small pop followed by a bigger boom that made Tristan duck and look back. Whatever it was Ash set in the house was… progressive. The whole back end was alight now. It could probably be seen for miles if it weren’t for all the trees and the mountains. Ash chose this location for privacy’s sake. The home would burn to the ground and no one would ever have known it was here.
“Ash,” he said again more forceful and grabbed her shoulder, making her turn to look at him. “What happened?”
She looked up, her eyes less cynical and more sorrowful. Tiny embers started to drift around them like orange and red fireflies. “No need to worry, it will not spread to the trees.”
“Ash.” He could give a shit about the trees. “Why? What about Pandora?”
“Her time has come to an end.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand. Where is she?” The night Malik’s flunkies came and killed Haruka, Tristan nearly died himself. He was lightheaded and dizzy, maybe even a little delirious, because he thought he saw the dog in the form of a jikininki. It felt too real to blow it off as a dream and he hadn’t seen Pandora since that night. Did that mean her life as a jikininki had come to its fruition? God, there was just so much he didn’t understand.
; “We should go.”
“Ash,” he admonished as the vampire pulled away from him and got in the car. He sighed and got in on the passenger side, grabbing the crotch of his pants as the tight leather and the strap from the two thigh holsters pinched him. That, and this close, he could feel her, the vampire in her. That alone made things… stir.
God, he was some kind of a mess these days.
Silent, stiff, obviously ignoring him, Ash started the car down the driveway. Tristan gave one final look back at the house. The whole back side was already consumed. He could see the curtains in the front room dancing against the glass as the flames started to take them. As he watched in silent revere, he realized, they had nowhere to go when the sun rose. She knew it too, they weren’t coming back. He shut his eyes and let out a long breath. If it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t believe in God, he might have said a prayer. Hell, he needed one regardless of his beliefs. His eyes snapped open when a cold hand touched his. He blinked at Ash for a moment and then realized she heard him thinking again. Dammit.
“It is not that I believe we will not persevere, not that I do not intend to kill that man even if it means my life. I just…” She sighed and looked at him for a long moment before putting her eyes back on the road. “I cannot stay here.”
He nodded. “I understand.” He also understood that there was more she wasn’t saying. He trusted her, sure, but he didn’t fully believe everything she said. She had this way about lying without actually lying. He wasn’t exactly happy with her, but he wasn’t about to ditch her. He cared for her and whether or not she wanted to return those feelings were her prerogative. She didn’t want to bite him for a reason and he had to respect that. And if he died tonight, he would be happy with the person he was and the decisions he made in life.
Mostly.
“What can we expect when we get there?”
She looked at him, frowned and then back to the road. “Malik keeps a harem of fifteen to twenty women, most of his own ilk. However, knowing how precious they are to him, I am convinced he would have sent them away, awaiting our imminent arrival. There is one, Nastasia,” she said as if it hurt to speak the name. “She will be the one in charge of the women.” Ash cleared her throat softly. “As for his men, there are a great deal less under his thumb. Just enough to protect his things. Usually not more than five. If we are lucky, less.”
Beautiful Death Page 25
