Beautiful Death

by Christina Moore

  “And if we're unlucky?”

  She shot him hard look. “They will all be Masters.”

  Tristan slumped. “Meaning they can all make those rotting things, huh?”

  “Jikininki. Yes. And expecting us, each of his Masters will have made their own jikininki.”

  “Shit,” he grumbled, dropping his head back against the headrest. “How many can they have at one time?”

  “I have seen Malik wield as many as four at once. The younger ones will not have more than one.”

  “Still an army.”

  “Yes,” she sighed.

  “Are you going to make some jikininki too?” He was curious to see how they were made. Besides, two against... a shitload more didn't sound good to him. And he was only human. Kind of.

  Ash's head snapped around, her eyes full of wrath. Tristan wondered what he had just stepped in. “One, it takes a great deal of energy, which I cannot spare right now, to create, maintain and properly control a jikininki. If I were to feed from a human… or three, then perhaps. No, I do not need to look to such filth for aid.” Her look softened and she actually gave him a small smile. “Besides, after Pandora, I vowed to never make another.”

  “Knew it, she was a jikininki.”

  Ash wouldn’t look at him again.

  “How?”

  She shot him a look, an eyebrow raised. “How? You want the specifics on raising a jikininki from the earth?”

  She was getting irritable and he wondered if there was something else she was trying to hide.

  “Ah, that’s it,” he blurted.

  “What?”

  “You’re power. It’s earth, isn’t it?” That’s what tsuchi meant, earth.

  Ash was quiet for a long time before answering, “Yes.”

  He just wondered what that entailed for her. He saw what Yuki could do with just a few drops of water gathered from the air. What could Ash do with a shitton of earth under her feet?

  She gave Tristan a weary look. “I am too weak right now to wield my powers of Earth.”

  “You seem pretty strong to me and your hair—”

  “I would need to feed on several humans to restore my strength.”

  Tristan frowned, realizing what she was saying. That she’d have to kill a bunch of people to be at full strength. While he hated the idea that she couldn’t even use her earned abilities to save his ass, he hated the idea that anyone would die for him—in place of him.

  “Here.” Ash reached into a bag she had stowed on the floor under her feet and came back with glass bottle. “We will arrive soon. Drink this.”

  Tristan took the clear bottle from her and inspected it up close. The liquid inside was amber colored like scotch. He had a bad feeling it wasn’t. God he could go for a drink right now. One last taste before he died. He twisted off the lid and took a sniff. “Holy Jesus! What-the-fuck is this?”

  “A spell. Drink it.”

  “A spell, what, like magic?”

  Ash's jaw tightened. “Yes. Like magic.” Such a crude assessment. “My Hong Kong contact made it. If you drink that, it will change the way you feel and smell to us vampire for a short time. It will lessen the possibility of you being bitten in a frenzy of need.”

  “What? I don't get it. Change my smell, the way I feel?”

  Ash looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Tristan, you are not entirely human. You do understand that, right? Yukihime said as much.”

  He frowned hard and looked away. He was ready to get out of the car. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I know.”

  “While you smell human, your scent is more appealing than other humans. We can smell the blood in you. We know it is good. And to support that, we can feel... it.”

  “It?” he asked looking at her again. She was stiff in her seat. She didn't like talking about this. That made two.

  “You may smell like a human, but you feel...”

  “Like an Uruwashi.”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed and looked away out the window again. After a few moments of silence he added, “You know I feel you too.”

  “Well—I, of course. Yukihime confirmed that.”

  “No. I mean, yeah, she did. But you don't have to be touching me for me to feel something. I don't know, I can't even give it words really. It's like, when you’re near me, like now, I feel a sort of cold energy, a knot of something electric and tingling in my stomach.” And lower, the closer he got to a vamp. God, it felt so good being just being near her. How did the Uruwashi ever kill any vampire?

  Ash made a soft noise of understanding. “I see.”

  Tristan sighed and looked at the bottle he was still holding. “Bottom’s up.” He upended it in one big gulp. “Oh fuck me,” he hissed. The liquid burned all the way down. He could feel it coating his throat, hit his stomach like a chunk of lava. He wasn’t sure he had a tongue anymore. “Jesus. That was possibly the worse thing I've ever tasted and if you knew the shit I’d been eating this past year…” He made a disgusted, gagging noise. “Like...” He smacked his lips. “Like battery acid and cinnamon. And aluminum foil with burnt pizza stuck to it. But worse.”

  “Good. That means it was stirred correctly.”

  “Blech.” He dropped the empty bottle to the floor, smacking his lips still, and slumped back. God, if the vampires didn’t kill him, that flavor would. “So, I have to ask just one last time...”

  “No,” she blurted. “I refuse to bite you.”

  “Even if we’re outnumbered and dying?”

  She looked at him, eyes hard and serious. “Then it is already too late. I would rather end your suffering than cause any further.”

  Like you did for Haruka? flashed the front of his brain, but he wasn’t jerk enough to say it aloud.

  They stared at each other for the longest five seconds of Tristan’s life. He looked away first and never bothered to look back again, watching the world pass by outside the window. The rest of the ride was in silence. Neither one of them bothered to turn on the radio and that was okay with Tristan. The quiet let him concentrate. To think about those he was leaving behind. In the end, it was only two friends. Two friends who were currently pissed at him and didn’t even know he was in Japan. Guess he wasn’t that good of a friend to start with. And there was no other family, none that cared. No one would know he was gone. No one.

  He was alone.

  The car had been stopped for an almost a minute before he noticed. Tristan blinked out of his daze and looked around. They were in the middle of nowhere, gone up into the mountains. Ash was quietly staring at him, waiting patiently. Guess she wasn’t ready to rush off to death either. Tristan got out of the car and gave a quick glance around, slipping out of his jacket. There wasn’t anything out here. Not a single street light, home, pay phone—nothing. Nothing but a man, a vampire and a dark road. God, that sounded like the beginning of a really bad joke.

  “We walk from here,” Ash said.

  “Wait. What? He knows we are coming. Why try and be all ninja assassin?”

  She turned away. “I will take any advantage I can.”

  She was walking away from him. She would leave him behind if she had to, he just knew. And he also knew that if this was their last night together, you know alive, that he didn’t want to die with the tension hanging between them. He jogged after her. When he caught up, he grabbed her wrist and spun her to face him, pulling her against the front of his body roughly, her sword jabbing him in the side.

  Surprised, Ash let out a small shocked yelp and blinked wide eyes up at him. “Tristan, wh—”

  He never gave her the opportunity to finish as he grabbed her face and bent down, covering her mouth with his. If he was going to die tonight—fully expecting to, really—he was going to get that kiss he wanted. Ash relented and allowed the contact, but wouldn’t part her lips. She still held a small spark of hope for their victory. Small, but there none the less. She wouldn’t be responsible for Tristan’s first death.

  Tristan pulled aw
ay first, licking his lips to get just a taste of her. Ash placed a hand on his chest to steady herself and asked in a breathy whisper, “What was that for?”

  “Just,” he swallowed past his suddenly dry mouth, smoothing fingers across her cheeks. God, she was so soft. “Just in case things go wrong. I don’t want you to remember me as being angry with you. I really do respect you. And I like you, Ash.” He smiled warmly. “I like you very much.” He pushed a strand of hair fallen from her braid behind her ear. “I just, I want someone to remember me and I can’t think of anyone better.”

  Ash stared at him a moment and then cracked the tiniest of smiles. “You are far from forgettable, Tristan.”

  Tristan gave her a weak smile in return and a small kiss on the cheek, figuring he’d pushed his luck already with the mouth to mouth contact. “Okay,” he said to lighten the mood and distract himself from the sick feeling starting in his stomach—and it was not his Uruwashi senses confusing him. Or the still tender wound. “Let’s go murder us an insane vampire.”

  Her eyes lit up and she gave him a halfway decent smile. “Yes. Let us turn that monster to dust.”

  “Good answer,” he said smiling big only to hold in an outburst of fear.

  The road was steeper than it looked, winding up the side of a sheer cliff. It was no longer paved and gave way to a long gravel drive that stopped at a dark building, a sprawling single story wood structure with light beige soil plaster walls. The roof was dark red-brown rounded ceramic tile. A beaten shop sign sat out front done in heavy black kanji writing. Tristan had no idea what it said, but he knew what the establishment looked like.

  “A hot spring?” he asked, skepticism heavy in his voice. What the hell were they doing in a spa?

  Ash nodded. “It was once a working onsen. And fairly recently.”

  Tristan wondered if the previous owners gave it up or if the vampires moved in and killed them all.

  “Knowing Malik,” Ash said softly, “most likely the latter.”

  “Yeah, he really is a fucking asshole.”

  Ash chuckled softly and started forward, keeping low to the shadows of the building. Tristan realized the reason his breathing, his careful steps sounded so damn loud was that they were the only things out there making noise. There wasn’t a single frog, cricket, rustle of leaves. Nothing. Little bugs probably ran off when the vampires moved in. Tristan wondered if it was too late to join them, the smart little bugs.

  Ash stopped suddenly, crouching to the ground, clutching her sword hilt. Not paying attention, Tristan almost tripped on her before kneeling next to her. He gave her a look to say sorry, but she didn’t even seem to notice as she scowled at the door they stopped in front of. It was only a shoji screen and simple enough to open, but something about it bothered her. She reached out and stopped short of touching the door frame, jerking her hand back.

  “What's wrong?” he whispered.

  She looked up, a deep frown pulling at her mouth. “There is a barrier here.”

  He mirrored her frown. That was what he was feeling—the tightness in his head, the knot in this throat that felt like the beginning of a nasty sneeze?

  She gave a small start, flinching back. “You can feel it?”

  “Yeah,” he drawled out, sounding unsure. Was he not supposed to?

  “Hmm, it seems you are more vampire than suspected.”

  He frowned harder. He was either human or vampire, not both. We wasn’t comfortable with being both. Hell, truth? He wasn’t comfortable with being vampire either, but you didn’t always good choices in life.

  “Do not make such a face. And never tell Yukihime about this.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek before reaching behind her and coming back with two small glass bottles. Where she was hiding those, he couldn’t imagine. Between the leather, guns, knives and shuriken, there wasn’t much space left for something like that.

  “This barrier tastes of Lilith, but is so weak that even a null could have cast it.” She glanced at him. “You could have made it. They are toying with us.” Seeing the look on his face she sighed softly. “Everything will be fine. I will not let you die.”

  He wasn't sure if she meant the him-as-a-vampire issue, or the fight they were about to face against vampires that knew they were coming. Either way, he was feeling nervous. Ash tossed the contents of one bottle onto the door. Nothing happened. Visible anyway. That need-to-sneeze feeling Tristan had suddenly went away though, like a popped bubble. He let out a long breath, relieved to have the pressure gone. Ash handed the other bottle to him.

  “Cyanide?” he asked, only half joking.

  “A pain potion. You will need it.”

  “Right,” he breathed and drank the small vial down. At least this one tasted a little better than the last. Gritty, like apple flavored chalk and sand, but better.

  “Stay close,” Ash said, her pale eyes serious.

  Tristan nodded, snapping back the slide on a gun to chamber a bullet. He had three knives and four guns—two of which were a tight squeeze for his big hands. Even with all of the weapons, he felt naked. Ash had even less. It was almost like they weren’t even trying. But that wasn’t it, not really. Tristan would go down with a fight, a nasty one. But that was just it, he was going to go down. One human—ish—and one vampire against four or more Master vampires and their jikininki. He knew the odds of coming out alive were not high. But still, that wasn’t going to stop him from going into that onsen.

  Ash gave him one last small smile. She met his eyes and held them, put a hand to his cheek. “Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying…”

  Tristan let out a long breath, whispering, “Nothing.”

  23: After Dark

  THE former owners of the little onsen never stood a chance. The door was nothing more than thin wood wrapped in grass paper. Wet grass paper now from the liquid Ash tossed on it. Katana drawn, and with no more (depressing) parting words, she stepped inside.

  Silence. Pure, delicious silence.

  Tristan let out the breath he was holding and gave the outside world one last glance. The moon was waxing, more than a third full, but clouds hung heavy and ominous, hiding its precious light.

  It was dark inside. Too dark. If the vamps could see in the dark like he suspected they could… well, he was already at a disadvantage, wasn’t he? Gun at the ready, he followed after Ash, struggling to see her in the darkness. She was dressed for sleuth. If it weren’t for the occasional glint off a knife or the katana, he’d never of seen her at all.

  Ash had only reached the middle of the room when she sensed them. All of them. There were three Masters and their accompanying jikininki sidekicks. While the other masters only wielded one each, Malik had four jikininki. The only plus was that it would make her old Master slower, more manageable. And then there was those other five, the vanilla, dime-a-dozen weak vampires with no powers. Pawns. She could feel where they all were too—two of the Masters and one of the vanilla were with Malik and his four walking dead deeper inside. But the rest were all in the room with them. Right next to—Ash spun to warn Tristan, but then one of the Masters shot out and took her off her feet.

  Tristan stopped at hearing the yelp, turning to look that way. “Ash?” He spun towards a growl, but then then realized the sound was all around him. He was surrounded. And couldn’t see a goddamned thing. “Ash?” he said again, louder this time, but there was no answer. “Fuck.”

  Determined to keep moving, he took in a deep breath and started forward again having no idea what was right in front of him. Or behind. The toe of his boot slid across worn flooring for the first step, but he never got to lift, never gained air for that step. Ten strong fingers wrapped around his ankles and yanked. Tristan let out is own surprised yelp, toppling over and landed flat on his back, his head barely missing the ground. Having the wind knocked out of him, he gasped trying to get
a breath in and caught a scent. He’d of cursed aloud if he could.

  Jikininki.

  Someone laughed off to the far side of the room and lights clicked on. But it wasn’t the bright glow of harsh fluorescents to illuminate every corner of the room. Instead someone had rigged up low emitting black lights hung in little skeletons, the bulb as their heads. Tristan had a brief, very brief, thought that those lights would have been perfect at that club Ash picked him up at.

  Hands on his legs brought him back to reality and he looked down. Before the lights were on, he knew what had grabbed him. But what he hadn’t expected was there to be two of them. Both jikininki were nothing but bones with small patches of dried up skin—which was surprising considering the stink. They clutched to his leg like some oversexed dog, clawing their way for his torso. He silently thanked Ash for the leather pants, and hoped she was okay, whatever had happened to her. And he knew with that last thought they were both on their own.

  “Stinky bastards,” he grumbled and lifted the gun. Both jikininki reached for the weapon at the same time. The lifeless boney fingers of one slipped off, unable to make those digits curl into a grip. But the other jikininki had a few tendrils of muscle still attached and managed to close its hand around Tristan’s wrist. He groaned as he fought with the surprisingly strong dead guy. Or girl. He couldn’t tell. At the moment, all he cared about was getting it off of him. And he realized in that moment how stupid he was. He’d never bothered to ask Ash the best way to kill these things. Guess he was going to learn the hard way.

  The jikininki not holding his gun hand grabbed his crotch and Tristan flinched hard enough that his aim automatically moved towards that one and he squeezed off a shot. The hand on his groin let go as the jikininki let out a strangled cry and rolled off him. Tristan rotated the gun to the other, pulled the trigger again, but the shot went up into a rafter as a jikininki wrenched his arms around, slammed them to the mat.