Beautiful Death

by Christina Moore

  A LAUGH Tristan had heard before, the sound of tiny bells, echoed across the landscape. He looked around, frantic, hoping against hope. Of all the people to wish were there right then… A blast of icy air blew through, forcing his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them again a figure appeared as if by magic on the tall fence rail behind the frozen hot spring. A long sigh, almost a laugh fell from him. Seriously, of all the people to ever wish to come to his rescue, well, he never thought it’d be her. He never thought he’d be so happy in his entire life to see such a dangerous, fucking insane creature.

  “Yukihime!” he exclaimed in his relief and then tensed as another thought hit him. “Wait. Who’s side are you on?”

  She only grinned, a knowing smile. Malik however, he knew the answer and sassily cocked his hip to the side, looking up at her. “My dear, dear, dear Snow Princess. My, you seem to have me at a big of a disadvantage here, my love. If I had known you wanted to join in, I would have sent you a proper invitation. So, come down here and play little girl!”

  Yuki crossed her arms over her tiny chest and looked down her nose at the naked vampire. “Kekkou desu.”

  Dammit, of all the times for her to be using Japanese… Fuck that, if he planned it right, Tristan was going to use the distraction to his advantage. After all, everyone was watching the tiny vampire. No one, not even his three captors, holding him loosely in their bony grips, were paying a bit of attention to him.

  To the left, the silent bodyguard had stepped out onto the lawn, Ash’s katana unsheathed and pointed at Yuki. Bear Paws and his hooded buddy were standing at the far right hand door, watching, waiting for their Master’s orders. Malik was still standing at the spring, hip cocked and looking downright murderous. Ash, still out of it. No one was paying a bit of attention to the vampire killer. Tristan smirked to himself, ready to act.

  “If you didn’t come to play, my tiny dear, then why are you here? Thinking of interrupting my fun?”

  “Oh, I think not, dear Malik. You know I have never harbored motives.”

  Malik fell into deep laughter. It was almost enough to paralyze Tristan, overcome with lust.

  A very pleased, very large Scotsman suddenly appeared on the fence rail next to Yuki, showing just how tiny she really was. Thankfully, Desmond had fully dressed this evening in a pair of slacks, shirt and shoes—which was more to say than his barefooted Master. But Desmond wasn’t alone. He brought a little companion with him: a girl.

  Tristan gave a start at the pair’s sudden appearance, captivated by the girl. She couldn’t have been more than nine and looked like a delicate china doll with her thick brown curls, brilliant blue eyes and porcelain skin free of any flaws. If it weren’t for the dark hair and vivid eyes, he’d have said vampire. But that didn’t seem right, she just didn’t feel vampire. He couldn’t say why exactly, maybe he’d been around Ash long enough to start to understand the small changes he felt, but the girl… something in him said she was not vampire. Not human either.

  “Dear Lilith seems to like me better,” Yuki sang, looking smug.

  That’s the pythia? Tristan bristled. A child?

  A deep growl rumbled out of Malik. He dropped his hands to his side and fisted them to hide the tremble.

  “Dear Nastasia, ah what a treat it was to see her again. Shame she wasn’t stronger. Sorry love, but your other girls are all dead now, a respite they sorely needed. But not to worry, Nastasia made it out alive. No, I couldn’t be the one to kill her…” Yuki’s eyes fell on Ash, lying catatonic on the ground, before finding Malik again. Yuki put on a fake pout, even rubbed at the underside of her eye with a tiny fist. “Zannen da.”

  Malik roared with rage and advanced on Yuki. This was it! Tristan flung an elbow back and hit the jikininki to his right in the face. Its grip loosened on his hands and he yanked them away. He spun and there was a look close to shock across the next one’s face. He smirked and punched it in the space where its nose should have been with bound hands. A loud snap sounded under his blow and the monster grumbled, falling to the ground in a mass of bones.

  The other two jikininki finally remembered they were supposed to be watching the human and grabbed for him. In an attempt to miss their quick hands, Tristan let his legs fall out from under him. A hand grabbed at the last tendrils of hair passing through their grip and held. He pulled against the pain, giving the jikininki a few strands of black hair. Tristan hit the ground, immediately regretting it as his middle exploded with pain. Maybe he should have taken that vile from Malik. He gasped back a cry of pain and swung his legs out, sideswiping the two standing jikininki. They both let out their own version of a surprised noise, with no vocal cords to really express it properly, falling over and Tristan came face to face with one of them. He smirked as he pulled his arms up and brought his elbows down onto what was left of its rotted face. Bones broke and crunched under his elbows, making the jikininki hiss. Tristan twisted his elbows into the broken face, crushing bones until the monster stopped moving and Tristan was covered in decomposed brain slush.

  The other jikininki, having its hip snapped from the fall, started pulling on his legs, crawling up the front of his body. Tristan rolled to his back and jerked his knee up into its chin, hoping to pop its head off. It took the blow with only a little shake of the head as if to clear its vision—even with only one eye—and continued to climb. He swung his fists in a sweeping motion across the front of his body towards its head and missed. It growled and jumped forward, setting its teeth into his left forearm as he was making the swing back. He screamed and kicked out against it with both legs. It didn’t budge.

  Tristan groaned and kicked out again, harder with both legs. Its teeth released with a sudden sharp cry and the stinking monster went flying. Coughing, feeling as if something sharp inside his torso was trying to dig its way out of his flesh, Tristan wobbled to his feet only to tumbled back to his knees. He couldn’t stand on his own. Neither could that relentless jikininki with its broken hip. They’d only just looked at each other when the jikininki dove. Tristan heaved in a deep breath and let it out in an angry war cry. They met, Tristan’s bundled fists to its head, its bony fingers at his throat. Tristan’s blow stunned it for two precious seconds, it was all he needed to throw himself on top of the monster, positioning his knee catch it in the neck when they landed. They hit the ground with him riding it, his knee pressed hard against exposed bones. The bony hands dropped away from Tristan’s neck and he smiled when he heard the sharp crack. He reached down, slipped a thumb into the empty eye socket, his other fingers wrapping about whatever bit of bones they could find and tugged on the head until it separated from the body.

  “Fucking son of a rotting whore!” he screamed, tossing the head away. He ended up in a coughing fit against the stabbing pain in his side, doubled over on his knees.

  He had forgotten about the last jikininki until it jumped onto his back. “Oh, fuck you! Die!”

  He flung them backwards with his full weight. They hit the ground and several loud pops sounded from the body under Tristan’s. Cold, thin fingers found his neck from behind, but the poor angle gave it a loose grip. He wiggled out its hold and he was suddenly on his feet, only just. The satisfaction of his impending victory helped him ignore the pain building with each breath in his chest.

  A grim, wicked smile filed his face as he looked down on the jikininki. It screeched a disgusting noise and reached for him. Tristan stomped down across its neck with a bare foot. The beast writhed and kicked under him like a seizure patient. He twisted his foot back and forth, pressing all of his weight into it. The jikininki clawed at his leg, like it was going to stop him, until finally the weak bones gave way. It stopped clawing when the head broke free from the body.

  Tristan stopped, staring down at what he’d done. He gave a quick, short laugh, kicking the head and nearly missed. He lost his balance and fell to the ground, gasping for air. His arm and leg hurt like hell where that fucking jikininki bit him. But it was nothing comp
ared to the pain in his stomach. Blood was coming now in a steady, sticky stream from the aggravated wound, leaking down into his pants.

  His vision blurred, more from lack of oxygen than exhaustion and he rolled to his side in an attempt to ease the awful jabbing pain in his ribs. He shut his eyes and pressed his cheek to the cool, cool grass. Finally took in that deep breath he had wanted. When he opened his eyes again, he gave a start. How could he have forgotten about the others?

  Desmond and the pythia fled when the shit started to fly. To his left, the big bodyguard fledgling that had been holding their weapons was standing exactly where he’d last seen him. The vampire had Ash’s sword drawn and was headed in Yuki’s direction. Yet something was very wrong with him. After the space of three long seconds of near drunken confusion, Tristan’s muddled brain put it together. The bodyguard was coated in a thin layer of clear, sparkling ice, frozen mid-step.

  To his right, Bear Paws and his hooded sidekick, were lying on the ground just outside of the side door. Both of their heads had been lopped off. Shimmering icicles as long as his arm jutted from their chests like clear diamond stakes. When you didn’t have wood, ice would do in a bind. Who knew? Undoubtedly Yuki’s handy work… Snow Princess indeed.

  In the middle of it all, next to a very pleased Yuki, stood a very nude Ash, blinking wide eyes at him. She was free of Malik’s control, yet rendered immobile by something entirely unexpected. She’d seen everything, witnessed the American, the last of the Uruwashi still in human form, killing three Master vampire’s jikininki. She would never admit it, but the display frightened the primitive side of her. The vampire in her.

  Insisting that he not be forgotten, Malik cleared this throat in a most theatrical way. The Master was on his knees in front of Yuki, watching Tristan with anger to those clear purple eyes. He was so seething hot it was a wonder he didn’t melt the ice encasing his entire lower body, chest down, hands trapped at his sides by his ice coffin.

  Tristan shot Yuki a nasty look. Jesus fucking Christ, woman. If he was so easy to subdue then why not kill him yourself...before all this shit? Before he killed my parents.

  Yuki giggled, bringing a hand to her mouth as if in modesty. “That was quite impressive, Ryōshi-san. And you are still human. Impressive indeed.”

  “Tristan?” Ash whispered. “Are you all right?”

  He lifted his head and gave her a wide-eyed look of shock. After a moment’s hesitation, he burst into laughter. He didn’t know why that simple question was just so damn funny. Something in his chest clenched and he doubled over, laughter turning into coughing. Ash was suddenly at his side, like she’d been there all along. Tristan rolled over to his back and smiled up at her. She grabbed his bound wrists and pulled them to her mouth. In one clean, quick motion she drove a fang into the knot and the ropes fell free. He sighed, rubbing his aching wrists. She slid an arm under his neck, holding his head off of the ground.

  She was so warm.

  She looked away. “I—I did things under his control. Things I promised myself to never do again.” She looked at Tristan, eyes filled with sorrow. “I fed. I… took their lives, human lives.”

  He reached up, wincing as his body protested and cupped her cheek, very aware that she was still completely naked. And completely stunning. “Ash…”

  “No,” she said. “It is okay.”

  His chest ached and wanted to kiss her so badly in that moment, to take away the pain in her eyes. Saving him from the impulse, he was racked with ragged coughing again. Ash gently maneuvered him into her lap as he tried to calm down the fit and breathe. She pulled him into a half sitting position, resting his head against the softness of her bare breasts. She hugged him tight across his chest like she was afraid to let him go.

  “How damned sweet,” Malik quipped. He was trying to make light of the situation, but even Tristan could feel his anger. There was also fear in those pale eyes. He was trapped and had used up too much energy and not replenished enough after making his jikininki to free himself of such simple confines. He couldn’t even use any of his higher powers over Earth. He was rendered vanilla. “I’m bored. Let’s do something fun.”

  Tristan furrowed his brow at the vampire, disgusted, angry, tired. “I’ve had enough of this motherfucker already,” he mumbled.

  Yuki laughed, drawing his attention. She grinned, making eyes. He followed the line of her sight to the frozen bodyguard with Ash’s sword and then back to her. She nodded, still grinning fiendishly. Right. Tristan heaved a sigh and started to stand, groaning with the effort. Ash slipped her shoulder under his arm and helped him to his feet.

  Steady on his feet he looked down to Ash, tucked neatly into the crook of his arm. “Hey, I’m really glad you’re okay,” he whispered. Again he had to fight to urge to not ravish her. She was in all of her stunning naked glory right there. And yet, so far away.

  Together they hobbled over to the frozen bodyguard ice sculpture. Up close the vampire was a sight to see. The ice was at least three inches thick, shining and shimmering with each new angle viewed at. Tristan titled his head to the side, first to the left, then to the right, studying the strangely stunning spectacle of vampire and ice. Tristan couldn’t, but Ash heard the strong heartbeat from within. The vampire was still alive. For now.

  Tristan was still examining the oddity of vampire and ice when suddenly the ice prison burst into a spray of glittering confetti. Shocked, Tristan stumbled back when a hot, hard hand jerked him away.

  He must have blinked, because suddenly Ash was on the bodyguard. The vampire was more than three times her size and she stopped him dead in his tracks. The sword he had poised had slipped from his hand, fallen to the ground and two petite hands were wrapped around his thick throat, gagging him. She couldn’t even reach the ground he was that much taller than her. The fledgling gave the smaller vampire a surprised look.

  Ash kneed him in the groin and shoved him back. She rode the bodyguard down, knee planted in his nuts, and drove fangs into his neck with an angry growl. They hit the ground with a series of grunts and groans as her knee ground into his privates, her teeth deeper into his neck. He kicked and pushed at her, slinging Russian curses and still she hung on with the skill of a seasoned bull rider. It didn’t take long for his words to slur until they stopped altogether, until his writhing ceased.

  Ash sat up with a gasp, tossing her chin skyward to send a spray of dark red droplets through the air. There was a chunk the size of Ash’s mouth missing from vampire’s neck, blood slowly seeping out—what there was left of it. Ash reached under her and withdrew the tantō from the dead vampire’s belt. She lifted it over her head, grasping it with both hands, one on the hilt, the other to the sheath. In a movement Tristan almost missed, she ripped the foot-long sword from its sheath, tossed the case and brought the blade down the front of the vampire’s neck, removing his head cleanly from his body.

  She stood slowly, uncurling herself, stretching with the beauty of a butterfly being born from its cocoon. She turned and met Tristan’s eyes, her own half lidded and cold. Blood stained the front of her chin, down her neck, over her breasts, reaching the smooth expanse of her flat stomach. Eyes still locked with Tristan’s, she spit out a large, red chunk with a look that said she didn’t like the taste. The meat flopped across the ground to land a foot from his bare toes.

  A week ago he would have run screaming from that place. A week ago he would be puking his guts out over the horror of it all. But now, he felt nothing. He was cold, dead, unmoving inside. So what if Ash was naked, covered in blood and spitting out flesh. Maybe he was becoming accustomed to the vampires, albeit too quickly. Or maybe he was just that beaten to shit, that his mind wasn’t processing properly. Yeah, he liked option B.

  Ash stepped forward, flipping the tantō in the air so that the tip of the blade landed between her fingers. She leaned forward, arm out to offer Tristan the weapon. He smiled, a wicked, nefarious smile that made her smile in return and took the proffered sword. />
  Fucker’s all mine, he thought.

  “Together,” Ash corrected as she helped Tristan to his feet again.

  He nodded. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

  Ash swiped an arm across her mouth to clean away the blood, turned on her heel and started to walk towards Malik. She was fully aware of her nakedness as she stalked the half frozen Master vampire, swaying narrow hips, letting her breasts bounce like she were a stripper working the crowd to coerce money from lecherous hands. She was teasing her Master—he’d come so close to having her again, only to be denied. She was going to make the beast suffer with what he couldn’t have any more just before he died by the very hand of what he couldn’t have. Tristan laughed at the dark cruelty of it as he slowly hobbled after her.

  Malik looked up, fighting his true emotions to feign boredom. “Oh, Asta. Are we going to play now?” He gave a melodramatic yawn. “I think otherwise I might fall asleep from boredom soon.”

  In a blur, Ash was suddenly standing over Malik, dripping blood from a fisted hand. Malik laughed as if it was all great game, blood gushing from his nose, filling his mouth. Yuki met Tristan’s gaze and gave her lips a slow, seductive lick. Tristan got a chill and looked away.

  “Well,” Yuki said, “I think it is time for me to stop interfering. I will not be the one to skew a pythia’s words.”

  Both Tristan and Ash flinched, looking to Yuki with confusion all over their expressions. Of course, it was the tall American who had something to say. “What the fuck are you—”

  Yuki took a step back and suddenly the ice encasing Malik crumbled and he was free. His face lit up, mouth curled into a nasty sneer. He rose from his knees and drove his shoulder into Tristan’s chest, tackling him to the ground. Tristan gasped, bracing his left arm under the vampire’s chin and lifted the short blade with the other. The vampire was faster and grabbed his weapon arm, pinning it and his only hope to the ground. Malik’s free hand reached between them and grabbed a handful of torn flesh at Tristan’s stomach.