Beautiful Death

by Christina Moore

  Tristan gave the bodyguard, or whatever he was supposed to be doing, a quick look over, not wanting to take his eyes from Malik for long. His hair was short and solid black. Just a fledgling, by way of power anyway. Still, it was in Tristan’s favor. He stood, statuesque and uncaring, an almost bored look across his middle-aged face. Ash’s long sword was in his hands, the short tantō tucked neatly into his belt. None of their guns or the shorter knives were anywhere to be seen.

  “Guns are for amateurs and weaker species,” Malik said with a laugh, drawing Tristan’s attention back to him. “And knives seem so… primitive.” He stood out of the spring, naked, the water sliding down his body through the labyrinth of scar tissue.

  “I have a gift for you,” Malik said as he turned to face the tied-up human.

  Tristan wasn’t sure what disgusted him more, the fact that Malik was grinning at him like that. Or that he was grinning in that fucking disgusting way while fiddling with himself. “Come’n, man, no one wants to see that shit.”

  Malik’s eyes widened and then he burst into laughter. The sound found Tristan again and made him gasp. His eyes fluttered shut against his will as the tendrils of lust trickled through his middle and down to his groin. When Tristan managed to gather himself again, he looked up to find Malik gliding across the lawn towards him, swaying his hips and... other parts, in an exaggerated motion.

  Tristan automatically backed up and after several quick steps, hit the rear wall of the building with a soft oomph. Malik stepped up to him, pressing a leg between his, hands to either side of his head against the wall. The line of the vampire’s body was a short, dangerous breath away from his, far too much in his personal space—what with the vamp being naked and having a boner that kept threatening to touch his leg. A voice screamed in Tristan’s head, telling him to knee the dude in the nuts. He instantly shook that notion away, sure that he would be the one to suffer more in the end.

  Malik wetted his lips and breathed a hot line down Tristan’s jaw line. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve had a man as lovely as you.”

  Tristan bit into his lip to keep from spitting into Malik’s face.

  “My men are all street cur compared to your beauty. Yes, you truly are a beautiful specimen.”

  “Funny you should say that,” Tristan replied with a sneer, “you know what my name means, right?”

  Malik’s pale brows pinched together. He leaned forward, just a fraction of an inch, even though it put him only that far away from Tristan’s lips.

  “Uruwashi,” Tristan hissed in a low voice and fucking proud he pronounced it right as the cold, nasty jeer twisted his expression. He was poking a stick at the lion again and didn’t give a shit.

  The vampire’s expression lit up. “Yes. Of course. The Beautiful Death. How perfectly delightful of a name. There’s a sort of dark erotica to it, is there not?” He leaned closer, so close that his lips brushed Tristan’s as he spoke.

  It took everything in Tristan not bite him or head butt him right in the middle of those purple eyes. He was practically shaking with the need to hurt the vampire, to strike out.

  “Don’t worry, my beautiful hunter of the dead, you and I will have a chance to play before your end. Ah, but I think my dear, dear Asta must be first. It has been a long time since I’ve violated that delicious cunt of hers… always so eager.” He brushed his lips across Tristan’s. “Mmm and I do so much enjoy a captive audience. Especially when they are as lovely as you. Perhaps you will join us? Yes,” he said, running a warm, damp finger across Tristan’s cheekbone and nudged their lips together, “and you both will enjoy it...”

  Tristan lost his shit and swung up with his bound wrists, taking the vampire in the jaw from underneath. Malik grunted with the impact but his head didn’t rock back. The pair stared at each other in frozen awe, both looking equally shocked. Suddenly, Malik burst into deep laughter. Using that insanely fast vampire speed of his, he retaliated with a hard fist to Tristan’s stomach. With a satisfied harrumph, Malik stepped back, letting the human gasp for air where he’d fallen to his knees, doubled over in pain.

  “I did say I had a gift for you…,” the smug vampire sang.

  Tristan, barely able to move, glanced up and saw the little glass vile of amber colored liquid held out between two fingers. He was sure he didn’t want to know where the vamp was hiding that. He suspected that it was a pain spell, like the one Ash had given him, and while he needed the relief, he wasn’t going to take shit from this guy. He also wished the naked vampire would back up since a certain part of Malik’s anatomy was in his face.

  “Fuck off,” he spit out.

  Malik smirked, palming the vile. “You truly tickle the best parts of me.” And for emphasis, made sure to give those parts a little wiggle with his hips.

  “See…” Tristan gasped for air again, but refused to look away. “…previous comment.”

  When Malik turned away, Tristan gasped again, letting go some of the control he was holding on to as the pain peaked. He let himself tumble forward, cheek pressed to the grass. Fresh blood soaked his front, saturated the waistband of his pants. He was going to need new stitches after this… assuming there was an after.

  “It is a shame I must kill you. I would have loved to have you in my service. But I suspect you would be more trouble in the end.” Malik stopped in front of the hot spring and turned to face Tristan again. “Ah, see. You are already on your knees… there isn’t much to teach you after that.”

  “Asshole,” Tristan growled as he struggled to sit up again and regretted having let himself fall into the position to start.

  “So indignant.” He turned to face to him. “Ah, no matter, you would not be the first to give me trouble. Not that I will have to deal with you for long. Hmm, and I do know another indigent little witch that would gladly go to her knees before me. I am keeping her in check this time, can’t have her running off again on one of her wild notions... Dying is better than this life. What a load of horse shit.”

  Tristan bit his tongue this time. While it was against his nature to not lash out and retort with some four-letter word, he needed to calm himself and think. He had to think of a way to get him and Ash out of that place, unmolested and alive. Things weren’t looking good on either front. He’d have to settle for alive.

  To his right, one of the side doors opened and the two Master vampires he remembered from before—the big one that manhandled him and the one with the leather bondage hood—stepped out. They had Ash held in their grip between them. Tristan tensed, watching them drag her along with them. Her eyes were open, staring at nothing, her head resting on the shoulder of the one that he faintly remember thinking of as Bear Paws.

  Ash was stripped of weapons and the wide leather belt she used to fasten her sword to her waist had been discarded. The front of her jumpsuit was unzipped all the way down to her abdomen, showing a long line of glowing, naked flesh, hint of breast. Her bare feet dragged across the ground as the two Master vampire flunkies walked her out towards Malik on the stone pavers. She wasn’t bound at all, but made no movement to free herself. She was completely catatonic.

  “Ah, perfect,” Malik said with pleasure in his voice and turned to his new prize.

  “Ash…,” Tristan whispered. He moved too fast to get to his feet and his head swam, stomach wrenched. The pain and disorientation plummeted him back to the ground to gasp and gag as he tried not to puke. Damn vampire could pack a punch. Still gasping for a breath of air that didn’t feel like a red hot poker to his chest, he looked up to see the two Master vampire servants had brought Ash out onto the lawn. They held her in their enforcing grip, facing Malik as he approached her with his runway walk. Still she made no movement that she even saw anyone.

  “Ash,” Tristan managed to say a little louder this time.

  Her captors suddenly released her and stepped away. Instead of standing upright, like anyone would have, she crumbled. Before she could hit the ground, Malik crossed the remain
ing distance between them in a blur of naked vampire and grabbed her, wrapping his arms tightly around her, pressing his body along the line of hers.

  Tristan’s blood boiled. He might not have known what the parameters of their relationship were, but he was sure he still had the right to feel jealous and a little possessive over her. Protective at the least—especially when it came to Malik. He stood, wiping his mouth with his forearm. “Don’t fucking touch her you goddamned monster!”

  “Such language,” Malik purred, running his hands over her back. “You soil precious Asta with your foul mouth. She’s far too sensitive to hear such words. Ah, the simplicity of this divine little creature when I first came upon her and that other one. Both so simple, so innocent.” He gave the side of Ash’s face a long lick. Her only reaction was a slow blink, unseeing.

  Tristan didn’t understand anything Malik was talking about, but didn’t care. He was more concerned with why she didn’t fight back. Why she didn’t do anything. And bound, there was very little he could do for her. “I told you before, you dumb fuck, she’s doesn’t want you anymore.” He softened his tone. “Ash… Ash, darling, please say something.”

  “You should save your strength for me, Uruwashi.” Malik was starting to sound irritated. “I’m going to ravage you both until you can’t walk and then I’m going to drain you dry. Rather… Asta will be the one to finish you off, under my tutelage, of course. There will be no misguided mutant vampire from our union, only your death.”

  “She doesn’t eat live people, asshat.”

  Malik chuckled. “She tell you that? Ah, she has always been good at avoiding the truth.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  The vampire looked up from where he had his face buried in Ash’s neck, a smirk on his face. “Do you really believe a vampire can live without killing? That we don’t enjoy it? You truly are naïve.” He emitted a low growl and ran his hands hungrily down the front of Ash’s body, cupping her breasts, gripping her hips, pushing her crotch against his with a hand on her ass.

  The show made Tristan sick. But the real anxiety was the spark of fear that she just might do what her Master wanted. There was something happening with her he didn’t understand and was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop it.

  He brought his wrist to his mouth and bit into rope that tasted like dirt and used motor oil. Determined, he pulled, bit, groaned and ground his teeth into the tight knots, slowly loosening what should have been unbreakable. He was so focused on his task he didn’t notice right away the rotted feet that appeared on the perimeter of his vision.

  Tristan looked up and let out a surprised yelp, falling back against the building. He gasped when he saw them, four jikininki in all, rotted down to bone with patches of leathered skin. One of the beasts gave a gurgled laugh and the four moved in close, trapping him against the side of the building. Tristan spit out nasty flavor of rope from his mouth and ducked down to look between the legs of one of the jikininki to see the others. Malik was undressing Ash. He had her jumpsuit over shoulders, off her arms and down enough to show everyone that cared to look that she wasn’t wearing a bra under the leather.

  “Hey!” he screamed, feeling desperate. “Don’t fucking touch her!”

  “No need to worry, you will have your turn too,” the vampire answered in Russian. “Just be good and sit still for now.”

  Tristan didn’t understand a word, but he didn’t need to. Enraged, he swung bound hands right into the crotch of the jikininki he was watching the vamps through. The jikininki knew the hit was coming, but it didn’t matter and he didn’t move. Tristan’s punch hit home and he nearly gaged as the flesh exploded in a spray of stinking black ooze. The jikininki, having felt nothing, laughed a shrill sound and countered with a bone bare foot shot that took Tristan right in the ribs. The blow managed to lift the big American from his place on his knees and send him flying to his back. His head smacked into a supporting wall pillar making his vision go out for a moment. He couldn’t breathe. Stitches popped and he knew the fucking monster broke a rib or two.

  “I had warned you to behave yourself, Uruwashi,” Malik sung out.

  Sick and overcome with pain all Tristan could do right then was curl into a ball on the grass and gasp for air. When he managed to lift his head from his chest to look up through the forest of skeletal legs, he saw Malik pull the reminder of Ash’s jumpsuit down past her hips. He lifted each of her legs, gently, as he relieved her finally of the outfit so that she stood before him, unmoving, unseeing, completely naked. Vulnerable.

  “Do-don’t...,” Tristan whispered, knowing they could hear him from so far. “Ash, please, wake up.”

  “It’s amazing to me that someone of your lineage could be so utterly clueless. Don’t you understand anything?” Malik didn’t take his eyes from Ash as he ran his hands over her curves, up the line of her naked body. “As her Master, she’s mine. She’s under my control and nothing you do will stop this.”

  “So you’ll just rape her?” he managed to say a little louder as the pain subsided. “Sick fucking bastard.” It still hurt like hell to talk but if he did long enough maybe he could keep the vampire from his deed. But, the jikininki had other things in mind as their Master sent him an unspoken message to restrain the Uruwashi. All four reached for him at once, grabbing and pulling at his skin, hair, limbs, like they were trying to tear him apart. He gasped, thrashing in their ridiculously strong hold. He couldn’t believe how strong they were as they tried to turn him into a human wishbone.

  “Fuck me,” he grumbled even as one of the jikininki managed to hook his mouth with a dead tasting finger.

  “I told you to be patient,” Malik’s singsong reply echoed across the courtyard. “After I’ve had Asta, you’re next.”

  “Asshole!” Tristan screamed, at a loss. It was meant for Malik, about to rape someone he cared for; for the jikininki tearing at his body; for every vampire in existence. Everyone but Ash.

  Oh god, there was nothing he could do for her and that killed the last bit of hope he held for a future. He should just give up already and die. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? His death. Even if he beat Malik now, there would be others later. How long could he go on like this?

  Malik laughed, leading Ash towards the hot spring. She followed obediently, a dog on a leash, her movements stiff and mechanical. “Oh yes, yes. That is the truth of it now, isn’t it? You will die. Whether by my hand or another of my kind, you will die. Your death has been foretold and nothing will change that fact.” He stopped and looked to Tristan, giving his pets a mental notice to stand down for the moment. “Would you like to know what Lilith has spoken?” He grinned big. “It was verrrry fascinating.”

  In a panic, as last desperate attempt to free himself, Tristan flung his limbs outward. A jikininki toppled, falling away and he kicked straight up, unsure if he’d hit anything. He smiled when his foot made contact with a boney shoulder. There was a shriek and a snap with a loudness that told him he had broken a bone.

  “Now, now pets,” Malik said, “I told you to keep him still, but allow him to enjoy the show.”

  The one with the broken shoulder lurched away on three limbs to disappear into the building, whimpering like a kicked puppy. The other three jerked Tristan to his feet and fixed him tightly in their skeletal grips. On instinct he fought against their hold. The one at his rear growled a nasty sound and laced fingers into his hair, its bony fingers scrapping against his scalp. He cringed, pulling against the firm grasp. The jikininki mumbled something unintelligible and yanked on Tristan’s hair, pulling his head backwards to a sharp angle so that he could hardly breathe.

  His rotting captors had his limbs and head securely in their hold, there was nowhere for him to go. Nothing more he could do now but watch as Malik bent over Ash and kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms around her back. Ash’s mouth opened, but she didn’t otherwise move.

  Motionless, arms hanging at her side, eyes staring straight ahead. S
he was a marionette with no strings to control her actions, only a strong mental connection that bound scion to Master. Malik’s hands moved down her back until they found her ass. He grabbed two handfuls and lifted her feet off the ground. Malik’s hold slipped to Ash’s thighs and parted her legs. He lifted her higher, putting her most intimate areas in line with his own.

  “No!” Tristan yelled, pulling with all his might against the jikininki, the fear made him forget everything except trying to help Ash. He was delirious with panic. There wasn’t a god dammed thing he could do.

  Malik released Ash’s mouth and out poured a stream of red. He’d bitten her in that deep kiss. He buried his face into her neck and had just positioned himself to enter her when a strange crackling caused everyone to stop mid motion and listen.

  Understanding immediately what the sound was, Malik hissed through his fangs and dropped Ash to ground. Tristan tried to jerk from his captor’s hold again to go to her as she crumbled on the grass like a forgotten doll. This time the jikininki holding his hair let go. All three were looking around, searching for the source of the intrusion. That’s when Tristan saw it. The hot spring was no longer venting a nice thick haze of mist. Instead, the entire surface was covered in a layer of solid ice. A frigid wind hit everyone seconds before a light snow started to fall. Tristan shivered, looking up to the night sky.

  What in the snowy hell...?

  Looking angry as hell, Malik marched to the middle of the lawn and did a circle as he searched. He knew she was there, the little imp. Just who did she think she was, interfering? “Enough with the hiding! Have you come to play too?”

  25: Raison d’être