White Lies: (The Uruwashi Series #4)

by Christina Moore

  Through the scream of pain he faintly heard Wren yelling. The words though were lost to the din. Almost as quickly as the pain came on, it was gone and Tristan’s vision returned. His breath caught when he looked up, seeing where he was.

  He was on his knees in the middle of the clearing, but it was full-blown spring. The grass was fresh and green, the trees were heavy with pink and white cherry blossoms. The outer perimeter pine trees were lush and green. The air was cool but comfortable and smelled fragrant and clean. And the sun, so bright and warm. Was it more red than usual?

  “What the fuck is going on?” he whispered, bewildered. “Uh, guys?”

  There was no answer. He was alone.

  Right?

  A glimmer at the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was silver and rippling like the image of a mirage on asphalt. When he turned his head to look at it, it was gone, but clung to the corner of his vision. No matter where he looked, it hovered on the peripheral. He forced himself to calm down and focus on simmer without actually looking at it. Within seconds he caught an image off the mirage and gasped.

  “Wre—Wren?” he asked, jumping to his feet. The moment he managed to look at the shimmer dead-on, there was that pinch in the front of his brain again, flickering his vision out for a mere second and then he was looking at Simon. The fae was standing three feet away, hands clasped over his stomach, expression drawn in pain. Blood, thick and dark was pouring from between his fingers. His mouth moved to form words but all that came forth was more blood. The red spread until it covered all of the grass in the clearing and started to boil.

  “Simon!” Tristan reached out and Simon disappeared in a puff of gray smoke. Tristan stumbled and lost his balance, falling to his hands and knees. The boiling red blood that was now the entire ground was cold and tingled along his naked flesh.

  “Oh shit!” Tristan started to panic when the blood seemed to be attracted to him. It slivered like a living thing and converged on him, making its way up his arm.

  “No, stop!” he screamed as he tried to slap it off before it reached his throat. With a final gasp of panic and fear, he managed to catch his fingers under an edge and threw the throbbing, gummy ball of blood that’d tried to consume him.

  It fell with a wet splat, bounced once and then fell again to burst apart into a cloud of iridescent dragonflies. The dragonflies swarmed Tristan, their tiny wings cutting his skin like razor blades. All he could do was scream and swat at them, inflicting deeper wounds until his entire body throbbed. At a loss, he collapsed onto the ground, curling up into a fetal ball, screaming out his frustration and agony.

  He felt it more in his blood than his flesh when the swarm left him. Shaking, vision splotchy as he was ready to pass out, he slowly lifted his head. The blood drained from his face so fast he was sure he really would pass out. The dragonflies were grouping and making a shape that was all too familiar.

  “A—Ash?” He blinked, unsure of his own eyes. “H—how… my god,” he whispered.

  She stood just out of reach, completely naked. The grass was growing taller as Tristan watched and it grew vines that snaked their way up her legs and around her waist to stretch across her chest between her breasts. They tightened around her, leaving red lines in the smooth and creamy, slightly olive toned skin that was her human self. But on the left side, those vines cut right through the burnt leather that was her flesh, the destruction Lucien wrought. Everywhere the flesh split, a spit of fire burst forth. The tiny embers that drifted out shifted into the shape of tiny butterflies that fluttered off into oblivion. Her skull, it was bare down to the bone on the left side. Her chest heaved as she took in a deep breath.

  “Ash?”

  Her breath rattled out as her head came up slowly.

  “Oh god,” he gasped under his breath.

  “This,” she hissed out in a voice that sounded like Ash, but was wholly foreign at the same time. Her fangs were too long, stained in blood and gore. And her eyes were both sky blue but bled like a stigma. “This is what happens when you play with fire, Uruwassssshhhiiii…”

  She lifted an arm to point at him and he recoiled, afraid of her in a way he’d never felt before. His right forearm burst into searing pain. When he looked down he saw that it was split open right to the bone, his skin hanging in ragged slivers down his elbow.

  “N—no! Why?”

  He watched in horror as the shredded skin bubbled and out poured an army of tiny silver ants. He gasped and fell back, beating at the ants swarming from his arm. Everywhere they touched, he went numb, but he didn’t let it stop him from slapping them with his hand even when he lost control of the hand and it was nothing more than lump of useless meat.

  Oh god, no! What’s happening... what is this?

  On the eve of his thought, the ants suddenly seized. He drew in a long, shaky breath and looked up. He was alone again. All around him were the tiny bodies of the ants, all dead. There was a soft pop and Tristan jumped, looking in the direction of the noise. It wasn’t until the fourth or fifth pop that he realized it was the ants. Their little bodies were all bursting open like popcorn to give birth to an ant the size of a baby mouse.

  All over, the ground moved with popping ants. Frozen in fear, Tristan could only clutch his arm to his chest and stare at the spectacle. When the last of the ants burst free from their smaller exoskeletons, they all did an about-face on Tristan. He gasped, trying to scramble away from them but they turned tail first, scattering all over until only a single ant remained. The bastard was huge, the size of a ferret. The hiss that came out of it sounded wrong and made the underside of Tristan’s skin sizzle with near-pain sensation. The animal hissed a second time, its body shifting to take on the familiar form of a red fox.

  “What the shit,” Tristan bit out and realized he was no longer in pain. He looked down and saw that his arm was whole again, his clothes in perfect order. A snarl jerked his attention back up and he gasped as the fox snapped at him.

  Tristan cried out in surprise and managed to send a foot right into its face. Just the sight of the fox made his blood boil with anger. That anger helped him focus. This was all their fault. Fucking kitsune.

  The fox sounded like a dying cat as it tumbled tail over head backwards. The second tumble sent it bouncing like a rubber ball and on the third bounce the red fox exploded like a water balloon.

  Tristan threw his arms up to shield his face, but then realized it was pointless as each crystal blue droplet hung mid-air. They were stunning in their splendor, each a different shade of blue, shimmering and emitting soft light. There were shades of blue Tristan was sure the human eye was never meant to see.

  The seasons changed around him. The sakura all dropped their flowers; the grass grew tall and wispy. The air grew hot until he was sweating under his winter jacket. The grass started to shrivel and recede. A breeze blew in, bringing with it dry autumn air. Snow started to fall, covering the dead grass and trees.

  Tristan looked down and was shocked at his own hands. They were wrinkled and shook uncontrollably. Were they really his, these old hands?

  He gasped and threw his hands over his ears when a shrill filled the air. As if the scream were a cue, time around the blue orbs started again and they all moved to melt into each other, growing and growing until it was a huge glinting sphere hovering in front of Tristan. He stood slowly, feeling unsteady and sore. His legs were weak and threatened to tumble him back to the ground.

  God, his entire body ached in a way he had never felt before in his life. The memory of his once broken leg was a dull ache compared to what he felt now. He forced his legs to cooperate and looked up. The orb pulsed a ripple of silver from the center out, almost as if it sensed his attention on it. He thought he heard a voice.

  “What? I, I can’t hear you.” Tristan’s own voice was foreign to him. It had been decades since he heard it last and it sounded so old now.

  The orb pulsed again and the voice whispered louder from its depths. The voice, a
man’s, sounded so urgent. He was pleading through the orb, pleading to Tristan.

  “Tristan!”

  His body jerked, eyes flashing open and fixing on the vampire over him. A sudden rush of fresh air filled his lungs and he coughed, knowing that he hadn’t breathed in a while by the pain in his chest.

  It took him another couple of breaths to get his bearings. He was laid out flat in the snow with Wren kneeling over him. It looked like Wren anyway. Just to be sure, he reached out and touched the vampire’s cold cheek.

  “Shit,” Tristan hissed, taking his hand back to swipe it over his face. “Was that—” He stopped, unable to remember the word.

  “A genkaku, yes,” Wren confirmed. “The kitsune’s illusion.”

  “Fuck,” he hissed sitting up. “It was like a really bad trip.”

  Wren’s brow wrinkled to show his disapproval. Tristan only shrugged. Sure, he did things in his past that he wasn’t proud of, but he wasn’t going to deny they happened. Experiences were the way of life though, the good and the bad.

  “I’m sorry,” Wren said softly as he reached for Tristan. “I had to cut you to wake you from the genkaku.”

  “Explains why my arm fucking hurts.”

  Wren nodded. “I tried to keep it as shallow as possible but you were in deep.

  Tristan frowned, clutching at his aching left bicep. His jacket was soaked through with blood. Eh, maybe he’d have matching scars now.

  “It was the best place I could think to cut you, my deepest apologies.”

  Tristan was taken aback by Wren’s apparent, honest sincerity. “Thank you.”

  Wren nodded his acceptance seconds before he shouldered Tristan so hard he knocked him off balance. Tristan fell back into the snow, landing on his left shoulder, which apparently was sore. He had to wait out the blinding pain and when he could see again, Wren was where he’d left him moments before. But he had a new friend by way of a red fox hanging from his extended arm.

  “Seriously?” Tristan said to the fox. “You know you can’t really hurt him like that, right?”

  The fox, Kyō he guessed by the scar around her middle, chattered at him but held onto Wren’s arm.

  “Sorry, I don’t speak fox.”

  Wren gave an annoyed huffed and a little shake, testing the rodent’s hold. “No, but I do,” he said with just a hint of sarcasm. Before Tristan could ask what he meant, Wren gave a good old fashioned vampire growl and grabbed the fox by the throat. She wouldn’t let go but that didn’t matter as Wren squeezed until bone broke.

  The fox stopped thrashing and fell limp in his grip, finally dislodged from his arm. Wren’s smile set off Tristan’s alarms and he took a weary step back.

  “Looks like I’ve a new hat to go with my boots.”

  10: Monkey for Me

  ASH crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. The snow was up to her calves and still falling. Her thoughts went to Tristan, hoping he was okay. She didn’t like him out on his own, but he was a big boy, he could handle himself. Something he’d proven more than once. Had she told him she was proud of him recently? She vowed to when she saw him next.

  Yukihime passed behind Ash, stalking. Ash refused to turn. Instead she sighed and looked up, watching the snow as it drifted from the inky blackness that was the night sky. Ash always liked it here, the quiet, the way the earth felt in her core. Ash’s vampire self was deeply in tune with this place and she would miss it when they left for the States.

  “Why are we here?”

  Yukihime smiled over her shoulder, widening an arc around the younger vampire. “You haven’t guessed?”

  Feeling Yukihime’s scrutiny like fingers exploring her body, Ash shut her eyes with a sigh. “You said you had something to show me. What is it, Yukihime?”

  Silence followed and Ash opened her eyes. She’d felt Yukihime move in front of her and there’s where she found the Master standing, smiling darkly at her. It wasn’t a normal Yukihime smile and it made Ash a touch nervous.

  “Fight with me.”

  Ash flinched back at the implications Yukihime put into the simple statement. The words touched Ash’s soul and made her involuntarily take battle stance. “Excuse me?” she hissed out, forcing her body back to a relaxed pose even if she were wire tight.

  “Just a friendly spar, my dear—Like the old days.”

  Ash stared at Yukihime for a long time, body tense and at the ready. After a good consideration, she smiled, shaking her head. “This is not a fair fight.”

  “Yare, yare! You are ever so right, my dear!” Yukihime motioned behind her and out of the snow came stumbling one of her servants.

  Ash started, not having felt the boy anywhere nearby and wondered just how Yukihime had hidden him. Did the old vampire just show one of her secrets?

  Yukihime’s smile was cunning when Ash met her eyes around the boy, now standing before the old vampire. “Feed from him and fill your seikonō. I want a real fight, a good fight.”

  Ash’s smile slipped away. Did she know about Innokentiy? She must have, why else would she have asked Ash for such an aberrant display of her power?

  She lifted her chin. Fine, she could show Yukihime a thing or two. “If I do this, I will not hold back. You may be my friend, but I am still very angry with you and wish to take that out on you. The vampire in me wants you dead. But the human in me seeks for compassion, even if that compassion leaves you mortally wounded.”

  Yuki burst into laughter and hugged the boy before her. He barely moved, despite the long fangs pressed to his neck. He was hollow inside and it hurt Ash to see him like that, despite not knowing him. If she were more of a vampire, Ash would kill him right there.

  “But you’re not,” Yuki chirped and gently pushed the boy forward. “You’re more human than any vampire I know. You seek mercy for those around you, but hate to pay the cost.” In the end, letting them suffer, as well as herself. It was a vicious cycle of need and regret.

  Ash was shaking with emotion and when the boy shuffled up to her, she forced herself to calm. It’d been a very long time since she willingly bit another living thing for the purpose of feeding. Back in October, when Malik briefly took her for his own again, she fed off of two humans. Two humans died because she had no control over herself. And the worst part, while she took a little bit of their warmth for her own, most of their life was simply spilled out into the snow, wasted.

  Before that, she’d tasted Haruka a few times, but never enough to warm her flesh, fill her belly. The shame she felt for feeding on the simple girl had her quitting before she ever really begun. And then, there was the faerie…

  Remembering the hot tonic of fae blood sliding down her throat, Ash’s mouth watered. It was a gluttonous thing, draining Sebastian slowly the way she had. It was gluttonous and cruel. But, by the Goddess, it was glorious. Sure, most of the energy went to healing her body so that she had little to no seikonō to draw upon, but just the act of feeding again, and so often…

  “Master?” the boy whispered, blinking up at her with huge green eyes.

  Ash flinched at his voice and the sudden realization of his familiarity. Oh Goddess, he was another of Sebastian’s siblings. Just how many of this family did Yukihime own?

  Too many.

  Filled with a sudden rage, she grabbed the boy and with little restraint, bore her teeth into his neck. The poor little bird, he didn’t even flinch despite her ferocity. Her teeth slipped out of his flesh as quickly as they’d torn into it and the blood came rushing across her tongue in a torrent of heat.

  His life poured into her with a rush of emotions and experiences. And she relaxed, basking in the peace of his existence. He was a simple-minded boy, not well in the head and yet okay with his life. He reminded her of Haruka, broken, yet happy—ignorantly happy.

  Sacha. His name was Sacha. But that was about all the boy knew of himself. The concept of brothers just didn’t compute in his brain. Instead, he preferred his solitude, playing video games, sleeping and eati
ng. The occasional partner found their way to his bed, but he still rather play his video games. His only duty in his simple life was to feed vampires. It was a sad fate, but made the boy happy. Happiness was what mattered the most.

  It was Yukihime’s laughter that made Ash bite into the boy again for another deep swallow and she looked up to stare angry eyes at her “friend”.

  “Always the emotional one, ne, Asta-chan? One of these days you will learn to be a proper vampire and then, then you can call me friend. Wakarmashita?”

  The rage boiled over and Ash pushed the boy aside, leaping over him with a great cry. Ash’s first instinct had her using her bare hands and when that first punch landed right on Yukihime’s cheek, she felt a surge of petty triumph. But the second hit never made contact as a blast of snow took her right off her feet.

  With an oomph she landed on her back two-hundred yards back. The breath was knocked from her and not having anticipated such a blow, she opted to stop breathing for the time being. She didn’t need to and it only hurt when she was forced to stop, so why bother at all?

  “Oh my, don’t tell me you aren’t even going to be serious?”

  Ash sat up, snow slipping down the back of her shirt in a cold dust.

  “I don’t want to play if you won’t be serious.” Yuki’s childish expression went dark, aging her pubescent mien into something dark and foreboding. “I want you to try, really try to hurt me.”

  Ash laughed. “Just remember, you started this.”

  Yukihime took stance though she never intended to use her fists. No, she preferred to use the gifts given to her and called upon her seikonō, drinking deep of her inner power. Without any pretenses or hesitations, she called out her summons, umibozu.

  Ash was stunned at the old vampire’s audacity for only a moment and then she was dodging the great water-serpent’s, now made of sparkling ice, attacks. It may have appeared as if the summons was driving her back, but Ash had other things in mind as she grabbed a glob of volatile concentrated seikonō energy and tossed it at a very specific spot on the ground in passing, allowing umibozu continue to drive her back.