White Lies: (The Uruwashi Series #4)

by Christina Moore

  The kitsune jerked in surprise but smiled. “Yare yare, with a question like that, how would my inherent curiosity allow me to say no?”

  Tristan licked his lips and hoped he didn’t say something he shouldn’t. He didn’t know these people, the kitsune, and while Akane seemed genuine enough there was no way he could give her his trust. “I’ve been told—not by a shinwa or heikō,” he added quickly and hoped it wasn’t too specific. “That the shinwa and heikō were designed, engineered, whatever, to never question their origins. Or figure it out.”

  The fox woman frowned and thought for a long time. “Hai… Yes, that’s true. I never have—Hai.” She looked like it hurt to admit it but it seemed true enough, her admission.

  “So you really never have wondered who the originators of your kind are?”

  Her frown deepened. “Is this the profound question I wasn’t supposed to reply with my own inquires?”

  Tristan took a really long time to answer, “Yeah.”

  The kitsune huffed, shaking her head. “I don’t know what information you’re really looking for but I’m afraid I don’t have the answers for you and we kitsune, we know everything.”

  Tristan harrumphed at her arrogance, but in a way, she was right. The kitsune shared a collective knowledge that went back as far as, well, conceivably as far as their origin. That they didn’t know or question that origin was again all part of the design. If anyone knew, it would be them. Maybe it really was only the first of each race that knew their genes. Only one real way to find out.

  “Damn,” he sighed. He opened his mouth to say more but the commotion behind him stopped him. The two were at it again and things were looking serious. “Hey guys, we really need to get moving here…”

  Desmond didn’t even seem to hear the American’s words as he body-slammed Wren against a pillar. It might have been Tristan’s imagination, but he swore he heard the wood creak. His big hands completely covered Wren’s delicate neck and Tristan rushed over before the vampire could pop his scion’s head off. And from the look on Wren’s face, his limp body, he was just going to let it happen.

  “Hey, man,” Tristan tried again in a sympathetic tone. “Why don’t you let him go?”

  Desmond growled, shooting him an incredulous look with raging green eyes.

  Wren’s complexion was going a little grey but he did nothing to stop Desmond from strangling the life from him. Guess the man was one of those vampire who had to breathe after all.

  “Look, I don’t know what he did to make you hate him this badly, but you’ve already scarred him, isn’t that enough? He’s got to live every day ashamed of whatever he did and literally hide his face. Does he really have to die?”

  Desmond flicked angry eyes at Tristan again and then after a moment of staring he huffed, letting go of Wren and taking a big step back. The Scot cursed a few gruff words and refused to make eye contact with anyone, but he seemed to be done trying to kill his scion.

  “You okay?” Tristan asked softly.

  Wren nodded. There were standing tears in his eyes. “You should let him have me.”

  “I’m not going to stand by and watch as he kills you.”

  Wren studied Tristan a moment and then smiled sadly. “You’re exactly the man I thought you to be, thank you.”

  Tristan slapped the vampire on the back, making him gasp in surprise, obviously not having sensed the movement. “It’s no problem. I don’t know what it is between you two, but I think you’re a good guy and that’s enough reason for me. Besides… Desmond’s an asshole.”

  The vampire only smiled knowingly.

  “Look, I’m going to go get Ash, maybe leave this guy at home with his Master because I’m tired of both of their bullshit and then go look for Xuejiao. I know I don’t have any right to ask, but will you come with me? You know Xuejiao best and we might come across a clue that we might not know is a clue.” And if he got Ash and Wren together, they could converse blood-wise about this mysterious pythia, Jason, too. Two birds, one stone, n’ all.

  Wren sighed, looking down to his bare feet. “Very well.”

  Behind Tristan, Desmond blew up, screaming about there was no bloody way Wren was fucking coming, blah blah. Tristan rolled his eyes and then smirked when Wren caught his attention, looking snarky under meek. The vampire shrugged but didn’t look sorry for forcing his presence on Desmond.

  “Fine,” Tristan said to the raging vampire as he started to walk towards the car with Wren. “You can stay here with the fox, but we’re going.”

  Desmond was still cursing but fell in behind the others. At the bottom of the shrine steps Tristan stopped and waited until the vampires had gotten a few steps away before turning back to look up at Akane. She stood silent, looking worried as she held the chain to her fellow kitsune against her breast.

  “By the way,” Tristan said carefully. “Who did Lucien steal the pearl from he used to call you to France?”

  “Malik,” Akane answered plainly.

  Tristan scowled. “And Malik?”

  The kitsune woman took in a deep breath before answering, “Minamoto Masuyo… Your mother.”

  Having suspected as much, but not really expecting it to be the truth, Tristan started. He stared in dumbstruck awe until a slew of curses from Desmond had him back in the moment.

  “And my Father?” he asked against hope.

  The kitsune only shook her head solemnly and Desmond made a nasty noise, going past them to get in the car.

  “Uh… alright, thanks,” he mumbled to Akane and got into the car in the passenger’s seat next to Wren. He was too confused to put a real sentence together. After he was done with Xuejiao then maybe he could take a minute to breathe and think, then he’d talk to Akane. A nice, long talk. Between her, Ash, Wren and himself, they were likely to come up with some pretty good answers, right?

  “You know the way to Yuki’s?” Tristan asked in a hollow voice.

  Wren nodded once and whispered, “Hai.”

  Eventually, after some time to think and reflect, Tristan turned in his seat to look back at Desmond. The big guy was actually pouting, arms crossed over his chest and bottom lip pushed out.

  “Really?”

  Desmond slowly rolled his eyes to Tristan, expression fixed in place.

  “What’re you, five?”

  The vampire harrumphed. “Should have bloody killed him.”

  “Hey, if you can prove to me that he deserves it then he’s all yours.”

  Wren flinched but didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

  “Well?’ Tristan goaded when Desmond didn’t react.

  The vampire only glared at him.

  “Look, I like him… you know, despite the whole kidnapping thing and smacking me in the face with a bamboo sword. He seems like a good guy, and believes in Japanese honor, a sense of duty. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Desmond only harrumphed at him, looking away.

  “Thought so,” Tristan mumbled.

  It was about the time the tension finally leaked out of the car that Desmond turned it up again by opening his mouth. At least his tone was soft for a change.

  “You said I was on Crete, back in Greece?”

  Tristan turned in his seat to look into the back at Desmond, noticing Wren’s wide-eyed surprise in the process. They’d talked about this at the izakaya. Was he bringing it up again for Wren’s benefit? “Yeah.”

  “Must have been bloody important.”

  Tristan lifted up the front of his shirt and showed the vampire in the back seat his newest scar. “You helped us stop the strongest vampire I’d ever met. We got Ash away from Genoveva because you helped. We killed Genoveva because you helped.”

  Next to him, Wren made a little noise and Tristan watched the vampire but he said nothing. In the back, Desmond harrumphed.

  “Aye, that’ll do it then.” The vampire fell silent for a long time but the others could tell he had more to say, even without having to read his mind. “Bl
oody died on Crete, in a war I was no’ a part of. Were me own political fook arounds that got me in jail… still don’t bloody ken how the French ended up buying me, but then there we was, fighting the Ottomans for a bunch of pansy fooks who dinnae ken what the fooking pointy end of a sword were fur, had to buy their warriors from stronger stock… Ah, well, ‘uppose then weren’t all bad, Master found me on that battlefield, half dead, took us in, made us more than dead, made me this.

  “Spent the next hundred years moving all over the continent, didn’t figure it out that we’d been following that bloody animal, Malik until I ran right into him. That’s when I figured out Master were just using me to get back at him, her lover. Don’t ken how long I wandered after that. Found meself in Scotland, but didn’t have the baws to go to me old home, see me ancestors. Me family…

  “Figured I’d had enough and weren’t James Graham anymore. James the bloody Good, me arse.” He snorted. “Me place was at Master’s side, even if it were down right shitty I weren’t who she really wanted, aye. But I sucked up me pride and dealt. Was on me way back to her in Japan when I ran into this morose motherfooker, drinking himself blind in a little inn just inside Edo limits.”

  Tristan glanced at Wren, seeing him frowning. Obviously he was the morose motherfucker. This is the same story as before but with more meat. Tristan liked meat, truth, substance.

  “Were the most beautiful creature we’d ever seen, half Native American, half Japanese/Chinese… So much culture, so much beauty in one package. Couldn’t bloody resist, I had tae have him, even if it were just for a night. But then a night weren’t enough. Fur the first time in me life, found meself wanting to keep someone forever as one of us. Never felt that urge before, the need to propagate our race, but it weren’t about increasing our numbers. Just wanted him at me side.”

  Desmond sighed, resting his forehead against the window to look out at the passing scenery. Tristan couldn’t believe the guy was talking like this, so honest and about his feelings. It wasn’t right and made Tristan uncomfortable, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say anything and risk an angry outburst. Besides, he didn’t really think the big guy was talking to him since he’d told Tristan the skeleton of this story just hours before. The look Wren gave him in a quick glance said he agreed.

  “We didn’t agree on words, but I went to him again the following night and the next two. By the fourth, he was mine and I gave him what he needed to become like us.

  “But, he didn’t—Four nights passed and I was sure I’d doomed him to a horrible death. But then he rose and was a vampire. He was stunning, this creature which I created, this young vampire so full of life and I loved him. And yet, he didn’t love me. Could see it in his eyes, the fire of his rage. But he promised to stay with me, a man of his word, aye. So he did, for a time… a long bloody arsed time, aye. Sure he’d wander off for a year or two, but always found his way home, into me arms again. Took the boy nearly hundred-fifty years to blow up, before the hate finally filled up too high and he couldn’t contain his wrath no more.”

  He sighed again, shutting his eyes. “Well, suppose it were me own fooking fault he left… suppose we both reacted too impulsively.”

  Tristan looked to the vampire driving and felt deep sympathy when he saw him silently crying, red tears staining the white of his collar.

  “Never really meant to hurt him, but things got out of hand.”

  If Desmond were human, Tristan would have told him he was an asshole for doing that to Wren over a mere overreaction, but coming to have understood the vampire race as a whole better… well, he felt bad for them both. It was so easy for a vampire to overact, even if it wasn’t how they were as a person in life, death seemed to turn all of their emotions up. So the fact that Desmond went as far as physically disfiguring Wren wasn’t so much a surprise now, especially knowing it was all just simple vampire emotions combined with too much strength.

  He’d never be able to look at Desmond the same way again after this.

  Tristan cleared his throat, remise to ruin the peace, but he had to know. “And Xuejiao? Where does she come into play?” Because, surly, she was a good part of this.

  Desmond only hunkered down in his seat farther, face turned away to completely hide himself from Tristan’s probing gaze. It was Wren who answered in a somber tone, almost unheard.

  “Happenstance, really. I was in search of an alchemist—er, pythia, anyone who could restore my appearance. I was on my way to the home of one I’d heard rumor of, a great pythia with amazing powers, when I passed an incredible presence on the streets. I couldn’t believe it, but that presence belonged to a little girl, a mere child. That she was a vampire disgusted and excited me. I wondered what sort of Master she had, how she ended up as she was, for she was very obviously old, ancient even. I was just as interesting to her as well, the scarred vanilla vampire out on his own, and curious as children are, she accompanied me to the pythia’s home.

  “The pythia was dead when we arrived. Murdered.” Wren glanced at Tristan, frowning. “It wasn’t until much later that I discovered Xuejiao was the one who’d killed her. But it was already too late for me by that time. I’d become an object of great interest.

  “Xuejiao followed me around after that. I suppose I was grateful for her company, to have someone to dote over. I treated her as the child I’d never have and she seemed to bask in my admiration. But I never really knew her, never delved into her mind.” Wren’s gaze flicked up again, but this time it went to the rearview mirror, to the backseat. “I never took her into my bed or under my fang, not even a taste. I saw her as a child, someone to protect, and she used that against me.”

  Wren’s attention went back to the road. “I was naïve.”

  From the back Desmond let out a sigh that held a bit of a groan. “Were never naïve, kotori, just… hopeful.”

  Wren’s eye crinkled at the corners with a smile that didn’t manage to curle his lips. “And I never hated him,” Wren said, looking at Tristan but clearly speaking to Desmond. “My maker, my Master. I loved him, very much but I… my mind was already on the verge of breaking in life and then dying, even understanding it in theory, I couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t prepared for what I was to become. Perhaps, had I a few more mortal years, time to sort my emotions out, grow up a little, then perhaps I would have taken to my new life with more grace. As it was, I was just a boy, and a fool, and…” He trailed off to mutter under in Japanese his breath but Tristan understood what the vampire was trying to say.

  “Overreacted.”

  The car was bathed in contemplative silence. It seemed like these two were really trying to work their differences out, using Tristan as a weird sort of mediator. Desmond wasn’t trying to kill his scion at least, and that was something.

  Tristan realized as he looked out at the scenery, they were almost to Yuki’s. They’d passed right by his apartment building and he hadn’t even noticed. He hated to ruin a moment, but he really needed to focus on their task at hand.

  “How did you find out Xuejiao had been playing you?”

  Wren flicked a nervous look at him. “Walked in on her killing a human.” He swallowed hard, his hands rotating on the steering wheel, making it creak in his grip. “The first time, I thought it was an accident actually. I’d never seen her feed but knew how long she tended to take, more than an hour sometimes. I assumed it was due to her size.

  “But there was another, an angry vampire who claimed the area as his own. Never want for unnecessary confrontation, I took his warning for what it was and quickly went to collect Xuejiao and be on our way. She was in a woman’s home, feeding on her, but I knew immediately that she’d taken too much and the woman was on the verge of death. This frightened me. It was one thing to kill a human and leave behind their body but another if a vampire had claimed that area as their own, it could mean war.”

  Wren shook his head. “The panic I felt, I was sure we had both signed our own death warrants. But then Xuejiao, calm and ch
eery as ever said not to worry, she’d take care of it. I was to go gather our things and meet her in an hour with transportation and we’d be along our way. And we were. I never asked where she’d been or what she’d done. I suppose, by then, I was starting to sense the wrongness in her. She saw death, final death as… novel? Hai, a commodity, a gift. It wasn’t the end of something but the start of something different. Perhaps she is right and there is life beyond the death of what we are now but the idea of giving someone that as a gift, not knowing where or what they will become…” He shook his head. “Doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “Ditto,” Tristan mumbled, mirroring Wren’s obvious horror. It was refreshing meeting vampires like Ash who valued human life, took it for the treasure that it was. That this vampire was made by Desmond just dumbfounded him. Then again, he really didn’t know Desmond’s eating habits. Mamoru had said he wasn’t a killer and he trusted the man’s words. Guess he didn’t know Desmond at all.

  “When we arrived at our next destination, I’d heard rumor that the vampire from before had been found, left out in the sun.”

  Desmond muttered from the backseat something about sun death being the worst way to go for a vampire.

  “That’s when I became really suspicious of her. But I couldn’t believe that she was this wanton killer, I let her childish manner blind me.”

  Tristan couldn’t fault him there. “What finally convinced you?”

  Wren’s knuckles went white and the steering wheel creaked again. “I walked in on her drowning a human. She bled that man but didn’t actually drink. There was arterial spray everywhere. The basin he was face down in, the water was solid red with his blood. He was dead and I didn’t need my vampire senses to know he’d been drown and bled out, all at once. There was no sweet death of fanciful dreams. She tortured that man, bled him and drowned him, letting him feel the fear, the panic and burn of not breathing.”

  There were standing tears in Wren’s eye again. “That’s when I finally left. I abandoned her, but then, I suppose she never really needed me. I was nothing more than a fascination, a short diversion in her overly long life.”