Moon Child (10 page)
Tristan knew what his answer was, but before he spit it out with a handful of profanities, Mamoru managed to stay his mouth once again with a firm hold on his wrist and whispered to him, “We cannot do this here.” He motioned with a nod towards the innocent people, tourists and locals alike. “There are too many people, it would be impossible to erase all of their memories.”
Tristan lifted a curious brow at the other man. “So you have the erase ability like the Water line, huh?”
Mamoru’s mouth pressed into a thin line.
“Fine,” he huffed. “What do you suggest?”
“To go with him,” Mamoru answered with a shrug. What choice did they have?
“None,” Netty answered dryly and motioned with his body for the others to follow.
Tristan looked to Mamoru for guidance. He realized then that it was something he did with Ash. It should have been Ash at his side.
Mamoru gave him a sympathetic look of understanding. “We’ll find her, don’t worry. Just remember what I told you on the boat.”
He nodded. Part of Mamoru’s long lecture included some tactical strategies, thing’s he’d learned over the years. Such as many of the older—read: smarter—vampires wouldn’t break out with their seikonō on first blush. They’d stick with their base motonō and tricks until they were forced to call upon their higher powers for aid. It was one part smart warfare, one part pride—in that the older vampires tended to think they were better than everyone else. In many cases, when it came to other shinwa, heikō and humans, they were right. A man was just a man… until he was an Uruwashi.
“Also…,” Mamoru looked up to him, eyes heavy with annoyance. “I just heard all of that. You’re not blocking your thoughts.”
Oh
. He was right.
Crap
.
Mamoru sighed, shaking his head as he started to walk away. “Ikuze,” he grumped.
Tristan chuckled to himself, even as his hand searched for his gun. He liked Mamoru, even if the guy was being so tight lipped about what he could do. The man did promise to tell Tristan all about it when they found their respective vampires and, you know what, Tristan believed him. Mamoru was a good guy, for a killer, and would do the right thing by keeping his word.
The pair followed quietly after their new “friend” through town. When they’d reached Tristan’s car exactly where he’d left it yesterday, Netty stopped and turned to face him. “Show me where you last saw Genoveva.” Tristan made a face and Netty quickly added, “Please.”
So he was looking for the crazy cross-dressing vamp too. Question was why? To help or hinder. “What’s in it for us?”
Mamoru sighed at Tristan’s less than tactful response. But then, he knew he’d gotten himself involved with a rough around the edges young man.
The vampire only harrumphed.
“Sorry, pal, but no one makes me do shit.”
“This is true,” Mamoru chimed in, “He’s rather stubborn.
American’s
…”
Tristan shot him a look but then smiled when he saw Mamoru grinning at him.
“We’re both searching for the same vampire. We both wish to end her rampage. Isn’t that mutual enough to work together?”
Tristan narrowed his eyes at the vampire. “You want something else.”
Netty raised a dark eyebrow. “That may be true but it’s none of your concern. That would be between me and Mamoru.”
“
Watashi
—ah, me?”
Netty stepped closer to the two Uruwashi making them both tense. Tristan had a terrible urge to pull his gun but settled with feeling it through his shirt in the back. When Netty spoke again it was in Japanese. Tristan scowled, disliking the idea the vampire did it to keep him out of the conversation, but then he didn’t need to understand word for word what was being said because there was one word in particular that Tristan knew very well.
“Whoa, wait a minute. Did you… did you just ask him to kill you?”
Netty straightened his back, lifting his chin. “I did.”
“Why?” Tristan asked completely flabbergasted.
The vampire considered him a moment before letting out a soft sigh, relaxing his stance. “I’m older than anyone needs to be. I—I have tried to kill myself, but I just, I can’t.”
“Coward.”
The others flinched at Tristan’s snarled accusation.
“Excuse me?” Netty asked, stunned.
“You’re a coward, suicide is the cowards way out. And you can’t even do it yourself. Pathetic.”
Netty’s expression pinked with an angry flush and Tristan knew from that small reaction that the vampire had fed very recently and fully—thank you Mamoru for finally telling him the important shit, right?
“Now you listen to me, Tristan Daniel Blum, you’re in no position to judge anyone. You don’t even know
what
you are.”
“Right,” he interrupted, “and you do. Everyone else does but me, is that it?”
Netty straightened again, looking confident. “Yes.”
“Bullshit!”
Netty turned his attention to the Japanese man. “He’s got quite the mouth on him, how do you tolerate this?”
Mamoru shrugged, smiling faintly. “It does have a charm all its own, I suppose.”
The vampire harrumphed and stepped into Tristan faster than the human eye was able to follow. Tristan gasped when it registered that the vampire was mere inches away and reached for his gun, but then his wrist was already trapped in a steel-hard hand. Next to him he felt Mamoru move and realized his companion had pulled a knife and had it pressed to Netty’s chest over his undead heart.
“Impressive,” Netty said with a small smirk to Mamoru. The Japanese man nodded an acceptance in return, hand held steady over the vampire’s heart. In a low voice, attention back on Tristan again, Netty said, “My wanting death has nothing to do with cowardice and everything to do with the fact that my kind should not exist. I’ve lived far, far too long already… so long in fact that I’m unable to kill myself—not due to mental qualms or the such. I am physically unable to kill myself. I’ve tried over and over but I always live.”
Something cold and laden with lead filled Tristan’s belly. “Just how old are we talking here?”
“Older than Christianity, older than… well, I guess you may not even know who that is the way you humans skew your history… I don’t even remember when I was born anymore or my real name, you know, we forget the little things when we live this long. I do remember
where
I was raised though… Let’s just say that I was born a Viking and leave it at that.”
“Holy shit,” Tristan whispered, seeing the seemingly young looking vampire in a new light.
Eyes wide in shock, Mamoru muttered, “You’re… you’re a
kodaijin
.”
“Yes,” Netty answered matter-of-factly. “I am. And probably one of the last few.”
“
Fuzaken na
,” Mamoru hissed out.
Tristan snickered, but refused to look away from the vampire holding his weapon hand. “And I’ve got a foul mouth?”
“You understand then why you’re the only one who can kill me now?”
The question was directed to Mamoru but Tristan understood. Netty knew about the Japanese man’s fire gift. It was the ultimate death for a vampire, burning.
“Yes, exactly. Fire is the only way. I don’t care about upholding some perverted sense of…” He waved his free hand in a small circle in the air as he searched for the word he wanted. “Of self-preservation disguised as justice that my kind had invented… I just—” He let out a heavy sigh, eyes fluttering shut as if he were exhausted. “I just want to make this one thing right before I retire.”
Was this the pain that Tristan sensed before? No, it was more than a life made weary by long existence, there was some other trauma in the vampire’s life that he carried heavily on his shoulders. Maybe it was part of the reason, but if this guy was really as old as he claimed, then Tristan agreed with him—two thousand plus years was too long for anyone to live.
“You have nothing to lose by joining with me.”
If he really meant it when he said he wanted to die, then he was right. There was nothing to lose. So why did Tristan feel so uneasy? Why was there unease coiled, hiding in the dark of his doubt waiting to strike?
Netty let go of Tristan, taking a step back and dropped his aura. Both Tristan and Mamoru gasped when they saw how the man really looked… like a ghost. His hair, eyes, skin, they were all so white it nearly hurt to look at him. He was a man carved of virgin white stone he was so smooth, it looked painful to be so perfect. And the man’s fangs, they were so big he couldn’t keep his lips closed over them. Tristan was so busy staring that he nearly missed the very large sword on the vampire’s hip. Not that someone his age needed it, but he’d learned with Ash that it was more of habit to cling to human things like swords. And it never really hurt to be overly prepared when it came to the shinwa or heikō.
Tristan had to clear his throat to find his voice again. “Just who are you? And why are you looking for Genoveva?”
“I told you, you can call me Netty. More than that it’s none of your business and won’t matter after I’m gone.”
He scoffed and looked over to Mamoru for guidance. The Japanese man was still holding the knife but had forgotten about it when Netty dropped his illusion. When he met Tristan’s dark blue eyes Mamoru let out a shaky breath and shook his head. Nervous, he was very, very nervous.
Tristan took another step back, not that it’d matter. “Okay. But if you’re fucking with us, we’ll—”
“Kill me? I told you, I’ve nothing to lose.”
“So you say, but what if we don’t lead you to Genoveva first? What if we just kill you?”
Netty shut his eyes, his aura slowly washing down his body again to make him look less ghostly. “Then I will have died with regrets.”
“Okay, don’t be so dramatic. Get in, I’ll take you to the place.”
“Thank you,” Netty answered and let himself in the car though it’d been locked.
Tristan’d just pulled the key from his pocket when a hand grabbed him. His initial reaction was to swing out, defend—
attack
, but then he remembered who it was.
Mamoru looked worried as hell. “Are you sure about this?”
He sighed, looking over at the vampire sitting patiently in the car. “No. Not really, but I don’t see any harm in it.”
“I…” Mamoru licked his lips and stepped so close to Tristan that he felt immediately uncomfortable. He looked up, wrenching his neck to look Tristan in the face and whispered, “I don’t know if I can stop him on my own if he decides to turn on us. He’s just too old.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I figured that. But he seems sincere enough that even I’m willing to let my curiosity rule for the moment. You don’t know who he really is, do you?”
“No. I can’t even tell which House he’s from, he’s blocking his presence too strongly.”
Tristan nodded. Mamoru said with experience that he’d be able to tell what House a vampire was from just by being in their general vicinity. He’d experienced it himself in France with that kid vampire, Julien. Didn’t mean he could just tell what someone was by being near them now, he still had to work on it.
“I knew of a few of the kodaijin, er, ancients but most are dead now or just off the map. Most vampire prefer solitude and that desire only increases as they get older. If it weren’t for their need for physical contact…and blood, of course, they’d totally take themselves off the map.”
“Hermits, huh?”
“Essentially. There’s a theory… or more like folklore really, that the old ones simply just turn to stone. It’s silly but now that I’ve actually seen an ancient one with my own eyes, I can understand the stigma.”
“Stone?” Tristan snorted a laugh as he opened the car door to get in. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day and if you knew some of the crazy shit I’ve been told today…”
The other man grinned knowing full well some of the things Tristan’d been told today. He was the one who told him all that crazy shit after all. “You’re a good kid, you know. Terrible mouth, but good.” Mamoru started to reach for the back door but stopped. “Can I ask you one thing?”
“Sure.”
“Are you always this reckless?”
“Reckless?”
Mamoru’s brow wrinkled. “Going off with a strange and very powerful vampire without any argument seems reckless to me. You’re far too casual with strangers… myself included.”
“Hmm, maybe. But I’ve got a plan.”
“Sorry but, whatever you have planned, I can guarantee that man knows already. Your mental blocking has been terrible since you stepped off the boat.”
“Has it?” Tristan asked with a big grin. “I hadn’t even noticed…” He harrumphed and opened the car door. “Doesn’t seem like me at all, I guess.”
Mamoru was stunned for a moment and then smiled before climbing into the car.
THE trip to Ash’s old home was mercifully quick. The silence in the car ate at Tristan. Being trapped with that vampire he was starting to understand Ash’s quips a bit more. It wasn’t so much he wanted to devour the man, or get into his pants, but there was definitely something hot and bothered in Tristan from being so close to someone so powerful now that Netty had let some of his presence leak out past his safeguards. The man’s power was a weight of tingling want on Tristan’s soul and it wasn’t even the vampire’s full strength, just a sample of something greater.
At his back, Mamoru was tense and anxious too. He was feeling the same needs, and hunger. Everyone was trying hard to pretend they weren’t noticing each other; made the short trip awkward to say the least.
“This is it,” Tristan announced as he shut off the rental car. Next time he’d rent a motorcycle instead—less passengers. There was a SUV parked to the side and Tristan wondered who else was there. He and Mamoru got right out of the car, weapons drawn, but Netty lingered behind, staring off at nothing, not even looking at what was left of the building. Tristan asked if the vampire was coming or not and when he got no answer, he just shrugged. Whatever, if the guy wanted to sit in the car, that was his prerogative but Tristan was going inside. He didn’t get a chance last time to really look around and wasn’t going to waste a second chance.
Still, he felt guilty. He felt like he’d been dragging his feet since Ash was taken. He should have found her by now. What if Genoveva had spent all their time together torturing Ash? What if Ash were already… No, he couldn’t think like that.
A gentle hand touched his arm and Tristan ignored it, going into the house. In passing the car, Tristan saw a pink feather on the driver’s seat and knew immediately whose car it was. Thankfully, when he got inside, the elf-pythia couple wasn’t around. The thought that they were lurking in the dark though put him on edge. He may have been playing it cool but he was ready to snap at any moment.
Everything was pretty much how it was last time he saw it, only now the dirt floor was turned up fresh, making it smell rich and damp. The outer wall that led to what was once a garden had collapsed. The unfinished stairs were also completely demolished now. There was something not stone in that pile that drew Tristan’s attention. He was just about to walk over when he felt the heavy presence of Netty suddenly on top of him. He spun and let out a little gasp when he saw the man standing an arm’s length away.
“Apologies,” the vampire said dryly. “I hadn’t meant to surprise you.”
Mamoru pushed into the room behind Netty, stiff and ready to jump at a single misstep on the vampire’s part. For the first time since meeting the man, Mamoru looked dangerous. His eyes were cold, his expression closed off and empty, his movements stiff and precise. He looked like a real killer. The black-out thief outfit only added to that image.
“Fucking right,” Tristan muttered. He knew now, thanks to Mamoru, that the really old vamps could block their undead energy waves entirely from other beings. Including the Uruwashi. It was an extremely rare and difficult ability to learn that often required the mentorship of an ancient, or kodaijin as Mamoru liked to call them, which meant that the “newest” batch of vampires, those born post Uruwashi extermination, didn’t know how to work the ability. The battle may have been won by the vampire, but they lost nearly all of their ancients and with them, their kind’s oldest secrets.
“They fought,” Netty announced as he took in the room.
“Yeah,” Tristan answered. “We’d only just gotten here when Genoveva showed up.” Although, and he was sure of it now after Netty’s little show, he had felt her following them on the long walk over. Apparently she was strong enough, and mentored enough, to be able to block her presence. That didn’t bode well for anyone. Maybe Netty knew who her Master was, but what did it matter? She was on both Uruwashi’s dockets now. “There wasn’t much chatting and then all hell broke loose.”
Netty was looking around, seemingly disinterested. “How did Ash lose?”
“Lose?”
The vampire finally looked at Tristan. “Obviously if she’s been taken, then she lost.”
Mamoru caught his eye and shook his head. “You’re not good at playing dumb, Tristan. Just tell him.”
Tristan huffed and put his back to the vampire. Something he’d never of done if it weren’t for Mamoru shadowing the vampire’s every twitch. He didn’t trust Mamoru completely, that’d be stupid, but he trusted that the man wasn’t a wanton killer. He had rules, limits and as far as Tristan was concerned, he didn’t meet any of the… what’d he call them? “Qualifications for extermination.” Yeah, that was a nice way of saying they’d done fucked up and needed to die.
“I don’t know. I took a rock to the head and that was that for me.” He was just lucky it didn’t crack his skull open he realized as he came upon the very rock that hit him. His blood was dried on it. Kinda looked like the Virgin Mary. No, definitely an Ewok.
The others were quiet behind him and he had this itchy feeling that they were gone. But when he turned around, they were both staring at him. “What?”
Mamoru’s arms were uncrossed and he looked even stiffer than before. Netty was the complete opposite, relaxed as if they were enjoying a causal conversation. That worried Tristan.
“How was it you recovered so quickly from a hit like that? I don’t smell any blood from open wounds on either of you.”
Oh. “Well, um…” He scratched at his hair where he should have had a big gash from rock and looked to Mamoru. He couldn’t avoid it, the way the man was staring at him. Why was he looking at him like that? “A pythia picked me up and—”
“A witch?” the vampire balked.
Mamoru shut his eyes for a moment with a pained expression and sighed. That was when Tristan started to feel the well of power from the other man. It was strange, warm and dense, as opposed to most vampire’s cold, almost ethereal feel.
“What witch?” Netty demanded.
Now Tristan was sure he shouldn’t have said anything and the anxiety let the block on his mind unravel. He hadn’t meant to let it go, doing it on purpose was hard enough, but there it was, just like that, it was gone.
The vampire made a deep noise, growl-ish and took a step back, eyes wide. “
And
an elf, those traitors. Oh this won’t do at all. I—” The fear suddenly left in a wash of anger, eyes narrowing in Tristan. “That vehicle is theirs—What’s your part in this play? Where are they hiding?”
He swallowed hard and reached behind him for his gun. He wasn’t trying to be sneaky about it and just pulled it free, clicking the safety off. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“What did she ask you to do? Kill me?
Catch
me? Oh no, no. No. Don’t think I’m anyone’s puppet. I won’t be a science experiment!”
“Wha—” was all the question that Tristan got out before his feet were taken out from under him by a ripple of earth. He yelped when he hit the ground and then sucked in a gasp as Netty dove for him. He tried to roll away but the ancient vampire was faster. Much faster than Tristan imagined they could ever be. The vampire caught his arm and jerked. Tristan cried out when Netty’s long nails bit into his skin and his shoulder dislocated.
Netty wrangled the writhing, cursing American under him so that he was sitting on Tristan’s hips, arms pinned across his chest and with no possibility of freeing them. “I only need the fire user and you’ve proven to not only be of no help but you’re just a virgin Uruwashi. You’re nothing!”
“No, don’t!” Tristan screamed, realizing the vampire’s intent. He was about to have his throat ripped out and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Thankfully, he had a new friend, kin even.
A deep groan came from behind Netty and then a ball of fire missed his head by a breath. The vampire growled a curse as he rolled off Tristan and righted himself to face Mamoru. Instead of scampering off to safety, Tristan kicked out, aiming for to the back of Netty’s knees. The vampire knew the blow was coming though and advanced on Mamoru before Tristan could connect. The Uruwashi cried out in surprise, barely getting off a defensive fire strike. But with his poor concentration the conjure was barely a puff of smoke. Netty didn’t even hesitate; it was like he knew the man was still having trouble with his seikonō.
Mamoru gnashed his teeth, baring down for a hit that never came. Surprised, Netty’s eyes widened, staring straight into Mamoru’s own startled expression. The gun shot echoed off close stone walls, what was left of them, leaving the three men deafened for a moment. There was more blood than Tristan thought there should have been, but then, head wounds always bled a lot didn’t they?
Netty’s blood was hot across Tristan’s face and he almost mindlessly licked his lips to taste it. When he really acknowledged the urge, he felt disgusted and lifted the gun to shoot Netty in the back of the head a second time.
Mamoru wasn’t going to waste the vampire’s stunned moment as he tried to heal from the wound, and forced his power into his hands. Only, it was too much, too fast and Mamoru screamed as his flesh started to burn.
“Shit,” Tristan growled and lunged across the room. Near the crumbled wall were the remains of a cooking pot that still held some murky water. It stunk to high hell and god knew what was really in there, but it was wet.
“Tristan, stop!”
It was too late, Tristan’d tossed the contents at Mamoru, screaming out his pain as his disjointed shoulder protested the use. A second later he was flat on his back, blinking up at the night sky through the open roof. His hands were empty and he had no idea where his gun was, only that he heard it clunk down somewhere against stone. He never even saw the vampire take him down. There was a scuffle nearby and then Mamoru’s grunt as he landed next to Tristan, laid out flat and vulnerable.
“The Uruwashi of this time are such disappointments,” Netty spit out. He threw the bullet that’d torn into the back of his skull at Tristan. It bounced off his chest and to the floor with a soft tink. “I suppose when you are mere remnants of a forgotten and dead clan, not much can be expected. Disheartening really, I was hoping for more…”
Tristan was about to get up, keep fighting when his whole body warmed. He couldn’t hold back a moan that forced his eyes shut, made him curl up, shuddering with pleasure. Next to him Mamoru echoed his moan but was trying to fight it as he found his feet. Netty’s immense power was a weight on them, pressing Tristan into the floor and then that floor was moving. The earth shifted and parted and when it was all over the two men were back-to-back, buried up to their necks in fresh earth.
“I really should kill you both but I’ve made it a point to not kill anymore. Call it… my new religion. However, if you come after me, I will break my vow.”
“What the fuck,” Tristan snarled out. “You fucking started it. I was telling you exactly what you wanted to know when
you
attacked
me
.” Okay, so maybe Tristan had planned on attacking the vampire anyway, but he wanted to see if the jerk would lead him to Genoveva first.
Netty’s boots came into view and then he was kneeling down to put his face close to Tristan’s. “You shouldn’t get yourself caught up with the pythia. They’re dangerous.”
He snorted. “You’re telling me? Bitch nearly killed me. I don’t want anything to do with her. Or that elf. Hell, I don’t want anything to do with any of you shinwa, heikō... I just want to live in peace.” Well, that was only partially his life goal, peace and quiet. He wanted to know what he really was, but was starting to become very afraid of that answer. If that meant living in ignorance to gain peace, he could accept that until he couldn’t anymore.
The vampire considered him a moment, head tilting to the side.
“What?” Tristan snapped. “You got something to say?”
Netty’s eyes narrowed. “You… you really don’t know anything.”
Tristan opened his mouth to drop a less than polite response on the vamp when Netty leaned in close, nearly touching. “You’re an odd man, Tristan of the Uruwashi. Very odd.”
“Thanks. Care to let us out now?”
Netty stood and turned on his heel, kicking dirt in Tristan’s face. “I imagine you’ll find a way out. Maybe… At any rate, I think I know where Genoveva has run off to now. I believe we’ll be seeing each other again, Mamoru and Tristan of the Uruwashi.” He stopped and looked back. “But let’s not. Neither of you are what I thought you would be. You’re just… pitiable.”
Netty left a wake of snarled curses from Tristan. Even over the tirade, they could hear the undeniable sound of the car starting and driving off. Mamoru sighed and waited for him to calm down. It took longer than he thought it would for the man to exhaust himself.
“Are you done?” Mamoru asked when they were bathed in blessed silence.
Tristan was staring off at nothing as he really grasped his situation: buried up to his neck with a dislocated shoulder and with no discernible way of freeing themselves. “You know…” he started, in a daze. “Understanding my enemies more doesn’t seem to be helping me as much as I hoped.”