Moon Child (7 page)
“I don’t doubt it.
Ikuze
.”
Tristan didn’t fight it, couldn’t even if he wanted to. The will was strong, but the body didn’t agree. The effort to just stay on his feet was all he could muster. Whatever this guy hit him with was strong enough that even his not-so-human physiology couldn’t fight fast enough.
Unbelievable! Just how many times in so many months could one person get themselves drugged? Oh well, he supposed it was better than the alternative—physical black out, or death. Not that he hadn’t his share of K.O.’s recently too. He really needed to start being more careful. Dammit, maybe he was more naïve than he thought.
After some stumbling, incoherent cursing and irate groans, the pair made it to Tristan’s room. Unfortunately for Tristan, the others weren’t back yet. The elf looked like he was good with that fancy sword of his. Could have used the help right about then too. Damn.
“Who are you?” Tristan asked.
He was placed, more like dropped, on the sofa. Mamoru lost his balance when Tristan held on and fell on top. Tristan balled his hands into in the front of Mamoru’s shirt.
From inches away, Mamoru answered, “I told you. Takeuchi Mamoru.”
Well, his blood didn’t light up and they were much closer than they needed to be for Tristan to confirm vampire, pythia or other. So either this guy was a faerie, because he was too short to be an elf, or maybe he was just plain ole human. Too bad Tristan wasn’t that lucky.
“I’m…” Tristan’s hand slipped from Mamoru’s shirt, though he didn’t mean to. His eyes fluttered shut. “I’m going to kill you… when I wake up.”
Everything was dark and a warm chuckle found him. “We’ll see.”
“What do you… want from me?”
If there was an answer, he never heard it.
THE voices were gone.
Everything
was gone.
A surge of panic made Ash thrash before she forced herself to calm down. She didn’t need to call upon her vampiric gifts to know that she was trapped in earth. But as it was, there were no gifts to be had. She was utterly empty.
Her seikonō was gone. She had no motonō either, nothing. She couldn’t draw on a single vampiric gift. The inside of her mouth was bitter and while she’d never in all her time heard of a pythia spell like this, she knew that taste. All pythia spells had a fundamental bitterness laced with the tang of blood. She didn’t recognize who the offending pythia was, but would be damned if she wouldn’t find out.
There was a small noise of water splashing and Ash forced her eyes open. She was in the same cave she’d awoken in before but now there were lights on, strategically placed lanterns that lit the entire space. The water she smelled before was a small pool with a round spot of land in the middle. It was this little island where Genoveva sat with her feet in the water. She turned to look at her captive. Ash didn’t notice before when she was speaking with Vasco, but Genoveva’s hair was a mess; it’d been cut recently and poorly, as if a child having a fit of anger had just gone at it with scissors. The angles were rough and uneven. There were even patches missing right down to the skull.
Ash remembered Genoveva having anxiety issues in the past that aggravated her trichotillomania. It was always so queer to see a less-than-perfect vampire. Ash lamented trying to explain to dear Vasco why he looked the way he did. He was always so confused and frightened. And vampire hair took so long to grow. The cowl helped, but wasn’t a fix-all. There was no fixing this particular vampire.
Ash fought, tested the density of the earth that trapped her arms and legs to the side of the cavern wall. She was poised just above the ground so that her feet didn’t touch anything. If it weren’t for the blasted pythia spell she’d have no problem commanding the earth to free her. As it was, she was nothing more than a vanilla vampire. No, not even a vanilla. Her vision was duller, but her left eye was better than when she landed in Greece even if it was only at human level.
For the first time in over three hundred years, the voices were gone. Near and far, there wasn’t a single voice in her head but her own. She felt… human.
By the Goddess, what sort of sorcery is this?
Behind her fear of the unknown, was anger. What pythia would willingly help such a monster? Whomever it was, Ash vowed with all her being to kill them. Kin (
of a sort
) or not, helping that monster was simply unforgivable.
“Finally awake? By the Earth, you’re just as pathetic now as you were three hundred years ago.”
Of course, it was Genoveva this time. Not surprising, considering she nearly killed Vasco in her attempt to flee earlier. If only she hadn’t held back just that tiny bit, letting her love of Vasco stay her hand, then she might have gotten free. Now she was not only trapped, but utterly powerless.
“You know,” Ash said, trying to sound intimidating even though she was at a serious disadvantage. “This spell will only slow me down. I will get out of this earthen prison and I will kill you.”
Ash’s contemptuous words were met with a low growl from the dark part of the cave that made her skin tingle with unease.
Genoveva smirked. “No, you won’t. You’re mine now. Even more than you were back then.”
“What—” Ash stopped when a great golden-colored tiger sauntered into the light and her eyes widened. “By the Goddess, is that Miw-sher?”
Genoveva laughed so hard that it hurt Ash’s ears. She stood and went to her tiger, giving her scratch between the ears. “Don’t be daft, witch. You know jikininki can only survive for a week. Miw-sher died centuries ago, but I’ve been breeding these beautiful creatures. I’ve got a whole stock of them buried under the sands, but you can call this one Miw-sher, if you’d like. She does look just like her, no?”
Ash swallowed back her words. Genoveva didn’t know that Ash could keep her jikininki alive for more than a week, decades even. Pandora, the dear pet dog, she was Ash’s first and last jikininki, far from an experiment but fascinating none the less. She wondered what the mad vampire would do to her to figure out the how of Pandora’s existence once she inevitably discovered the secret within Ash’s mind.
Genoveva, pleased with herself, lifted her chin. “She likes you.”
The tiger smelled her feet and Ash wished she could lash out at it. Rip it apart before taking out its master.
Ash actually snorted a nasty laugh, something that was more fitting to her human lover than herself. Tristan was a strong influence on her. He was the reason she went on and she would see him again, whether in this world or the next. “You are a monster. I won’t let you keep me here. I will get free and then I will kill you.”
Genoveva eyed Ash skeptically. “Master thought I could be good. He always was so full of love, my Master.” Genoveva’s gaze grew distant for a moment as she shifted through old memories of her Master before she let loose with a snarl. “He was weak. Gentle hearted fool. Should have killed him myself, like you did to my dear nephew. It is so like you to rebel and break vampire code. Always had to stand out and be special.”
Asta bit back her nasty response, something that she normally wouldn’t have felt the impulse to even say. That was Tristan’s influence again. The thought almost made her smile. “The man I was with, did you let him go free as we agreed?” Maybe she shouldn’t have asked, knowing Genoveva, she’d probably forgotten about him already.
Genoveva spun away with a hiss. Miw-sher growled her disdain. “I was going kill him too, but that prim English cunt and that lying elf shit interceded on his behalf. Didn’t see any reason to argue. Figured the witch would kill him herself anyway, fucking Uruwashi.”
Prim English cunt with an elf?—Oh
! “Chrysanthe is in Greece?”
“Oh, so you do know her. I guess you would,
alsahrh
.”
Ash cringed. She hated it when her kind called her a witch with such contempt. It was more as if they resented the possibility that Ash was special rather than actually hating the pythia. But then, Ash wasn’t a pythia, never was. She wasn’t really much of a vampire either, especially now with this spell in her.
Damn!
“You know it is impossible to turn a pythia into a vampire.”
Many have tried. Malik did and ended up killing her full pythia twin in a fit of rage. Maybe with enough effort, and a miracle, the pythia could be made into vampires, but there had yet to be a single reported case. Ever. Still, many vampire believed that Ash was something more than just a vampire. The thought was hopefully delusional.
“And yet here you are,” Genoveva said.
“Your point?”
Genoveva stomped up to her, leaned in, sneered in her face. “You’re keeping secrets. Secrets I want. And I’ll kill you if I have to just to pluck them from your mind. No, I think I’ll kill you anyway. Never did like you, always thought you were better than the rest of us, fucking princess alsahrh.”
The old Ash would have denied it all, begged to be set free, whimpered at the compounded memories she held for the terrors that this monster, this single vampire alone had wrought on her, nearly destroying Ash’s mind. But she was no longer Asta Moriakos, she was Ash—no, not even Ash anymore. She was a new woman, someone who wasn’t going to let the fear paralyze her. Fear and doubt, anger and cowardice were no longer passengers in her life. She was stronger than that.
Malik, he bestowed upon her many things, most of which Ash couldn’t thank him for, except for the strength he proved she had. Granted, it took over three-hundred years to find that strength and accept it. In the end, she liked to attribute that revelation to the man she loved rather than her spiteful Master.
“Oh, you think you’re so different now? Let me tell you something, alsahrh.” Genoveva took a theatrical step back, reaching into her robes to produce a lovely gilded knife. Ash knew that knife, how it felt from every angle as it carved into her flesh. An unbidden shudder torn its way down her back.
Sensing her anxiety, Miw-sher let out a low noise, nose lifting in the air to smell Ash’s feet again.
“People never really change. Vampire, elf, troll, dryad, pixy, human; no one. No matter how old you grow—and mind you, you won’t be bothered by the tedium of long life for much longer—but no matter how old you grow, you will never change. None of us do. Not you, not my poor delusional Master, or yours for that matter.”
“Not you,” Ash said softly, attention focused sharply on Genoveva.
“You’re right. And that was Innokentiy’s mistake, thinking he could change me,
fix
me.
Alskhryh
. You’re all insane. I think I might be the last of us that’s really all together… and I have another personality living in me.” She laughed. She laughed so hard that if she were human, she might have lost control of her bladder.
Ash used Genoveva’s temporary distraction to test her bindings again. It was no use, with the strength of Genoveva’s seikonō and that blasted spell, Ash was well and truly trapped by the very earth she should have been able to talk to. She never really noticed before but even when she was starved, on the brink of hunger madness, she always felt a strong connection to the earth. It was her gift, her power, her will to wield. But now, now there was nothing and she felt utterly empty. It was enough to make her weep. She missed the weight of her power, the fullness of it filling her, the wholeness of it. She missed being what she was, a Master vampire.
“Is that so?” Genoveva’s laughter had cut off abruptly and she was staring at Ash now with an angry sort of curious look. “All these years and you’re finally willing to accept being a monster?”
“Not a monster. I am nothing like you, Master or Vlad. I am who I chose to be, Genoveva. Can you say the same with strong confidence?”
Genoveva threw herself at Ash. The gilded knife bit into Ash’s chest between her breasts, sinking hilt deep. Vampire didn’t need to breath but it was still a shock to the system, especially when one ran most of their body as if it were still alive as Ash tended to. She liked the illusion of breathing, it felt normal.
“Your blood’s so cold,” Genoveva whispered and then louder said, “I know what I am, a monster. I embrace that. And when you do too, you’ll finally understand who you really are… and then I’m going to kill you.”
“You are wrong,” Ash choked out. The knife in her chest made it hard to speak. “I have changed. And you will not frighten me, no matter what you do, you will not succeed. I have nothing to fear anymore.”
“No?” An orb of compacted earth rose in the air from behind Genoveva to hoover over her shoulder. Then a dozen more of various sizes formed, the lose particles swirling up from the ground. Ash didn’t need to hear Genoveva’s master torture plan to know what the vampire meant to do with the projectiles. It’d all happened before. And the physical wasn’t even the worse part of what Genoveva could do to her.
“Let’s see what I can do to change that attitude of yours—or more rightly, realize that you never changed at all. And after that… we’ll tackle your pride and prove that you still have plenty to fear. That you were never strong.”
IT felt like a blink really, but when he opened his eyes again it was morning. Bright, sunny-ass, disgustingly cheery, Disney chorus line morning. Tristan let out a long groan. His head felt foggy and when he reached up to put a hand to it, he realized his predicament. His eyes popped open and he looked down. His hands and feet were tied. The rope looked brand new.
“Fucking perfect.”
Somewhere in the room, upstairs maybe, there was water running. And singing. Mamoru was taking a shower. Tristan cringed to himself and wiggled around on the sofa, feeling his body. Nope, nothing hurt. Well, besides his wrists and ankles where he was tied. Point was, he was pretty sure the guy didn’t have his way with him while he was out. Good start, he guessed.
The water shut off and then it was blissfully yet painfully quiet. Tristan must have held his breath for nearly five minutes while he waited to hear something, anything. Then he tried struggling against his bonds. They were tighter than they needed to be and his fingers tingled when he tugged too hard. He tried to roll off the sofa quietly to sneak out but he hit the coffee table and the tea service that was set up there and everything came crashing down. A few of the cups broke and he knew it was loud enough that upstairs, his “guest” heard it. A door opened and a head popped out over the landing above Tristan.
“Ah!” Mamoru said, his hair dripping wet and upper body naked. “
Ohayō gozaimasu. Choto matte
… I’ll be right down.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Tristan tried to get up, but he was bound too tightly and with a sigh, gave up. For the moment. He waited there on the floor, broken teacups under and around him, cheek pressed to the stiff grass-woven rug while he waited on Mamoru.
The Japanese man finally came out of the room and down the stairs. He was dressed in a fresh outfit that made him look like a thief and had his hair all slicked back from his face. Tristan hadn’t noticed last night with the way he wore his hair, but the guy had a nice bit of gray starting at his left temple. He looked human enough, but Tristan knew his luck just wasn’t that good.
Fuck you, karma.
“Hope you don’t mind, I took the smaller room upstairs last night, it looked like it wasn’t being used. You know, there’s no luggage in the other rooms though. I guess you’re only here for the day?”
Tristan only glared up at him.
“Don’t tell me you’re mad. Look, I’m not here to hurt you. I didn’t touch you or anything funny, I just need you to help me.”
What the hell was up with everyone needing his help lately? “And drugging me and tying me up has always been a sign of peace.”
Mamoru shrugged, looking unashamed. “No. But it was necessary. If I hadn’t drugged you, you would have spent all night drinking and you needed your rest.”
Well, dude had a point. Tristan was fully prepared to just call it an all-nighter when the others left. He was past the point of sleep deprived delirium and was just… awake.
“And the tying part, well, you seemed pretty angry last night when I brought you back to your room. You said you were going to kill me. I was just ensuring everyone’s safety.”
“Ahuh.”
“Please, may I help you up? I’ll even untie you if you promise not to do anything rash.”
Tristan narrowed his eyes at him. He was willing to behave, a little. The moment he didn’t like what the guy was saying though, that’s when they’d have a problem. “Fine.”
Mamoru pulled a small folding knife that Tristan took close note of which pocket it returned to. Flexing his hands to get the blood flow in them again, Tristan righted himself on the sofa. He had no idea what the guy did with his gun, but that didn’t matter. So long as Mamoru didn’t have it on him, Tristan was confident he could take him, even with that little knife. Hell, he’d had worse than that knife.
“What is it you think I can help you with?”
Mamoru smiled at him, pouring tea in the two remaining unbroken cups. “Tea?”
“Thanks, but you understand if I pass.”
“Yes, of course.” Mamoru took one of the cups, leaving the other behind to steam on the table and took a seat on the chair across from Tristan. See, a nice safe distance away. No funny stuff. “I’m looking for someone.”
“Holy Christ,” Tristan scoffed, flopping back against the sofa. “Why does everyone think I’m sort of water witch?”
The other man frowned. “Water witch?”
“It’s—I’m not a professional anything, okay? I don’t find people.”
I just kill vampires.
“You may not find people, but who I’m looking for couldn’t strictly be called a person.”
Something cold and scaled coiled in Tristan’s middle when he met Mamoru’s keen gaze.
Mamoru tipped his head in Tristan’s direction, coldness in his eyes. “And from what I’ve heard, you just might know where this…
non
-person is.”
“Who?”
The other man smiled, looking sinister for the first time since their meeting. “But I think you already know.”
He was looking for Ash? Like hell he’d help. “Why? I mean, why do you want to find this… “
person
”?” he asked with exaggerated little air quotes, trying to hide his apprehension.
“The why is simple… because I’m like you. I kill vampires.”
Tristan felt blindsided. Mamoru had been dancing around the word but then saying, “I’m like you. I kill vampires” was pretty blatant. Still, Tristan wasn’t ready for the statement and hadn’t reacted in the best way.
“You’re fucking mental.” He jerked to his feet and his head spun. He meant to walk off, but he didn’t feel up to full speed just yet. “There’s no such thing as vampires.” Again, there was something about pants and a fire here.
“Don’t you think saying such things would hurt Ash’s feelings? She feels too, just like the rest of us.”
Tristan’s hands balled into fists at his side. “What do you want with her?”
“Her…?
Ash
?” Mamoru put his tea down and relaxed back in his chair. “Nothing. Oh you—ha, you think it’s Ash I’m hunting? No, she’s safe from my retribution. It’s that other one of Ash’s line, her predecessor, Genoveva, I’m after.”
Tristan’s heart literally stopped. If this guy was really after that freaky vampire than that meant… No, he couldn’t get his hopes up. He didn’t know the guy and definitely didn’t trust him.
“Where is she?” Mamoru asked, eyes narrowed on him.
“Genoveva? No clue.”
“No, Ash.”
Tristan sighed and took a seat again. “Genoveva took her.”
“Sō ka,” the other man muttered, lost in thought for a moment. “Do you believe in fate?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Well, fate believes in you and has brought us together. We can help each other out after all. I help you find Ash, you help me kill Genoveva. Win-win, really… don’t you think?”
Tristan shook his head. It was a tempting offer, he really could have used the help. But— “I don’t even know you.”
“What is it you want to know about me? What would put you at ease?”
“I’m not the easily trusting type. And you know what,” he said standing again as if he meant to leave. “The last person I agreed to help, almost killed me.” By accident, but still. “And you know what? You’ve not exactly left me with a good impression.”
Tristan stood, eyes finding a clock on the other side of the room. It was almost eleven. If he left now he could ditch the pythia and elf and have enough time to get lost a little while he tried to find the ferry that went back to mainland. He was getting off this island and leaving all his baggage behind, including this guy.
Mamoru stood with him, drawing Tristan’s attention back to him. “Please, we really can help each other.”
“I work alone.”
“No you don’t. You work with a vampire. A vampire that’s missing. And unless you find her soon enough, you and I both know Genoveva will kill her and when she’s done, she’ll come after you because she remembers the Uruwashi, hates them. Even if she doesn’t come for you, then the next vampire will kill you out of spite, or for fun... I can help. You
need
my help.”
“What? So you can just kill Ash too? I don’t need shit from you,” Tristan spit out and turned away. He was leaving and no one would stop him.
Only, someone tried. Mamoru gave a karate type cry and Tristan spun, blocking the guy’s first attack, but didn’t see the second that took him in his stomach. Healed but still tender where he’d been nearly eviscerated months before, Tristan doubled over, gasping for air. He stumbled back to get away but Mamoru grabbed him and flipped him over and to his back. The rest of the air left Tristan’s lungs and he fought to gasp down a fresh breath. With the, surprisingly heavy, Japanese man sitting on his chest though, he wasn’t having any luck.
He tried to flip the man off, but his arms where pinned over his head, twisting them the wrong way to the full extent of his double-jointed elbows would allow until it hurt. He found the breath then to cry out.
“Shhshh,” Mamoru said over him, face close to his as he held Tristan immobile. “I didn’t attack you to hurt you. I just need you to understand that I’m not as weak as I look. I can help you, if you help me. I really don’t mean you or Ash any harm.”
Tristan’d managed a gasp of air that tasted bad in his deprived lungs and chose to use it poorly. “Fuck you! Get off!” Holy crap, why was this guy so fucking strong? He was smaller than Tristan, average sized, if you were Asian. So why couldn’t Tristan move at all? Why did he seem as strong as a vampire?
Mamoru suddenly smiled as if he knew what was going through Tristan’s head.
Tristan saw them then. They were small, no bigger than Ash’s or Desmond’s, but this guy had fangs.
“What the—” Tristan looked to his side again, in disbelief, to make sure it was really daylight out.
Ah, everything outside looked so peaceful. He wanted to be there… off someplace warm and sunny with Ash in his arms. His daydreaming was interrupted by the burn of Mamoru’s hands where they held onto him.
Tristan cried out, bucking under the man. “St—stop!”
The heat subsided as quickly as it came on. “Do you understand now? I’m not just a human, Tristan. I really am just like you…” He grinned a lot of teeth, showing off those fangs again. “Well, maybe better than you because I’ve been bitten.”
“Holy shit,” Tristan whispered, falling still. “You’re an Uru—”
Across the room, the suite door opened and in stepped a very tall man and a very short woman. They stopped, blinking in shock at Tristan laid out on the floor with another man pinning him down, faces mere inches away.
Chrysanthe turned to her companion with a grin and said, “I guess we should have paid more attention to that Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Looks like we’ve interrupted something interesting… Do you think Ash knows?”
Silas grunted a laugh, taking off his glasses, not having really looked at the stranger pinning Tristan to the carpet.
“Get the fuck off me,” Tristan growled. “
God
.”
Mamoru opened his hands and put them up, slowly climbing off Tristan. He’d made his point, now he had to have faith in Tristan to make the right decision.
The two men met eyes when Mamoru put his back to the others and tapped the side of his nose with a wink. The “Holy shit, you’re an Uru—” thing was their secret.
“Where have you been all night?” Tristan asked, attention darting between Mamoru and Chrysanthe. Not that he really cared.
The pythia put her hands on her hips. “That disgusting codger… he sent us on a wild, pointless hunt. I’m pretty sure he did it on purpose too.”
Silas grunted his agreement as he pushed the hood off his head and shook out his feathery hair. It was still a shock every time Tristan saw the fuchsia and bronze tipped feathers and wondered if they were as soft as human hair. In the back of his mind Tristan also thought that whatever else he might be, that it wasn’t elf since he didn’t have the hair and eyes, assuming he’d inherit those traits at all.
“Honestly, that old—” She stopped short, eyes fixed on Mamoru. The man’d just taken his seat again and picked up his tea, but he was frozen mid-motion too, tea cup hovering before his mouth, staring back. Next to her, Silas’s eyes widened as he tensed, really seeing the man.
“Oh dear,” Chrysanthe muttered.
The elf swallowed dryly, making eyes at Mamoru that Tristan didn’t understand. Mamoru took a careful sip of his tea, pretending he didn’t notice the sudden tension in the room and that the elf wasn’t trying to tell him something.
“You’re the one I’m looking for.”
“Me?” Mamoru asked, hiding his unease by taking another sip of tea. His attention shifted to the elf for just a moment, but Tristan saw something in Mamoru’s eyes that made him wonder about the man.
Chrysanthe licked her lips, looking suddenly nervous. “Tell me,
what
are you?”