White Lies: (The Uruwashi Series #4) (30 page)

“You hate me. And that’s fine but I have to tell you what happened. Not just for me but for everyone’s sake. I owe it to Ash and that poor woman in France, you… You don’t have to answer but you deserve to know. After I’ve said my peace, then fine, we can go back to not talking to each other.”

The fae frowned at him but didn’t tell him to go fuck himself.

“Your brother—Sebastian, he was a good man. At least I’d thought so at first. Yeah, he was a little snarky without being obvious, with this odd sort of humor but he betrayed me.
Us
. Sebastian betrayed Yuki and Ash and me. He killed a woman—actually, I think she was an elf, right in front of me. Tortured and murdered her.”

Simon flinched in his seat, his complexion suddenly white.

“Then he tortured Ash and me. I think he even—” Tristan stopped short, shocked. What was it he was about to say? Sebastian did what to him?

Frowning, thinking he knew exactly what he was saying and realizing it held weight to it, Tristan bit the comment back. “Yes, Lucien coaxed him to the dark side but Sebastian chose to give in, to be a man who hurt people on purpose. Ruefully.”

Tristan looked to the kid and felt terrible he had to give him these truths but if he didn’t let it all out, he was going to choke on the truth.

“So the end he got, really, it was merciful compared to the pain he caused.”

This time when Simon flinched, the car went with him and in his panic, the fae pulled over to the sound of angry honks and shouts.

“Okay… I need a minute,” the fae said on a pant. He looked like he was about to hyperventilate. “You—You’re saying he really did that stuff… hurt people? On purpose?”

Tristan shut his eyes and let out a long breath. “Yes.”

“He hurt you?”

He forced himself to open his eyes. He owed it to the kid to make eye contact. “Yes.” The fact that he thought the man did more than simply beat him was still a lump of disgust in the back of Tristan’s throat. Dreams, there was truth in dreams, he believed that.

“And I—What did you do to him?”

Whatever it was Simon had been told, obviously he didn’t hear the full truth of it. “After I killed Lucien, Sebastian went with Ash and I back to our hotel room. Lucien nearly killed her with his fire and Ash used Sebastian to heal.”

Simon was nodding numbly, looking almost accepting.

“When we left France, we took Sebastian with us so Ash could keep—so he would help her heal. A few days later, Ash threw him overboard to fend for himself.”

He hoped the kid would be satisfied with that and not need details. Because without the details, the finale of the parting sounded less cruel.

“So,” Simon breathed, staring out the windshield, looking dazed. “You didn’t kill him?” He jerked around to look Tristan in the eye. “Yukihime said you and Ash killed him after he’d betrayed you but I didn’t know he hurt you like that or the elf. I didn’t know he’d betrayed Master… She lied to me.”

Well, shit. Tristan shouldn’t have been shocked to find out Yuki lied but it did piss him off. Maybe Yuki was trying to spare him and his happy go lucky lifestyle by holding back the full truth of it and letting him point his anger somewhere other than his beloved brother, but the reality was probably closer to her need to fuck with Tristan’s life.

“I’m sorry, kid. I really am.”

Simon started to shake his head softly until it became violent like he was trying to shake all the bad thoughts out. “No, he… He hurt you. And you hurt him back. Like the pythia say, equivalent exchange.”

“He might have died out there,” Tristan said, wishing he hadn’t the moment it came out.

Simon gave him a soft smile. Jesus, he felt bad for Tristan. “Then that was his fate. But you didn’t kill him out of spite and that’s all that matters.” The fae turned in his seat a little and held out his hand. After a stunned moment, Tristan took the small hand into his grip and shook it. “Thank you, for your honesty even though it hurt to hear.”

He could only nod, not sure how he felt being forgiven for sending a man to his possible—fuck,
inevitable
death.

As Simon wiggled the car back into the flow of traffic, he muttered, “I can’t believe she freaking lied.”

Tristan almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but then maybe Yuki was really good at hiding her true self when she had to. Then again, and no offense to the fae, but Simon did seem the gullible type. Trusting and wanting to believe the best in everyone. Even someone like his misguided older brother.

“I’ll take you someplace to eat and then we’ll head out. We have lots of time to get to Apos’s place before dark so you’ve got time to suit up and get ready.” Simon glanced at him with a grimace. “You can’t walk into a kodaijin’s lair without being armed, even if it might not mean much, invited or not.”

“Fuck that, I don’t want to walk into a kodaijin’s lair at all.”

Simon flashed him a quick, tense smile. “But an Uruwashi’s got to do what an Uruwashi’s got to do.”

Tristan snorted—Yeah, his new fucking moto.

THE fuck is this place?” Tristan grumbled, nose curled up and hunkered down into his new, warm coat.

“Er…” Simon fumbled around with his phone for a minute before huffing and whipping out the map again. The damn thing was bigger than the fae—fuck that, bigger than the car and took up the whole front seat. “I—I don’t know.”

Tristan flicked the map off his lap and got out of the car. He took a moment to stretch and breath in the crisp freezing air. They hadn’t spent a lot of time that morning eating breakfast and they were on the road before the sun rose. According to Lance though, their trip should have only taken about seven or eight hours. But then, it’d snowed… a lot. And they got lost more than once and when they finally found the X on the map the sun had set and it’d been dark for hours.

“Are we lost?” Tristan asked hopefully. Because if this was his destination, he didn’t want to be here.

Utterly desolate. And with that thought smacked déjà vu. With a shaky sigh, he realized he’d been here before, dreamt about it five nights ago when he dreamed of Yuki. It had been this place, not their sparring grounds. Five nights ago, the precursor to this whole horrid adventure in where he got tricked by the kitsune, abducted twice, witnessed too many deaths, all to run off to Alaska in order to meet the First Vampire.

Tristan took out his phone, looked at it and considered calling Ash. In the end he sighed, dismissing the thought and shoved his phone away. Simon gave him a curious look but said nothing.

There was nothing here but white snow, dark sky, bare trees and that mound. The mound that every other thing seemed to retreat from. It might have been an igloo once but it was brown all over as if made from road-dirty snow rather than all the virgin white that was out here. All the trees within a hundred feet of that brown mound were all naked, stripped of their needles and all leaning outward, away the mound. Even the snow was trying to retreat from the proximity of the brown lump, showing frozen sandy earth.

Simon walked up the mound, kicking at the earth and knelt down to one knee. He peered into the small opening before turning his head to frown at Tristan. “It’s dark.”

No shit it was. “You think that’s the entrance?”

Simon stood, brushing himself off as he got his gleam in his eyes. He was probably thinking the same thing Tristan was.

“I’m no fucking hobbit, there’s no way I’ll fit in there.”

The fae laughed softly and went to the back of the SUV. He came back a moment later with a shovel and a pick. “Leave it to Lilith to make sure we have the important things.”

Tristan frowned because it was true, in a sense. So then why couldn’t the pythia just come out and tell him all of it. Why couldn’t she be up-front honest about his future, what he was meant to be and do? With simple words, at that.

The two set to work slowly picking away at the hole until it was large enough for Tristan to fit. Simon tried to insist on going first but Tristan was the only one with any sort of weapons skills and won that short argument. Well, Tristan’s end of the argument, Simon was still on the same breath, complaining as he crawled in behind him.

Rolling his eyes, Tristan straightened as the tunnel opened up. There was light somewhere in the back, but not much.

“Oh, looks like it opens up back there,” Simon said he sidled up next to Tristan. “Wonder if he’s back there, probably…”

Rolling his shoulders uncomfortably, Tristan wondered too. Because he’d yet to feel a single glimmer of vampire. Nothing. Maybe they were in the wrong place, or Apos had moved on already. Half of him kind of wished it.

Tristan moved forward without answering the fae as Simon fell into a long monologue again. They were only a few dozen yards from the source of light and obvious larger space. If a vampire was in there, Tristan would have definitely felt something. Not unless the vampire knew Tristan was coming and was shielding himself. Whatever he found at the end of this hallway though, he knew he wasn’t anywhere near prepared for.

They’d just reached the end of the hall and Tristan had taken his first steps through the arch when he felt it, that familiar tingling, the burn and pull at his blood and he gasped, spinning around. “Simon!”

He stopped short as a wall of ice spread in front of him, cutting the two men off from each other. At least from the shouts on the other side Simon seemed unharmed.

There was a noise behind Tristan, the sound of dry leaves being crunched up and when he spun around again he realized that it was the sound of laughter coming from that brown husk shoved up in the corner. It took Tristan a few moments to make sense of what he was seeing—a humanoid shape, black and brown, dried like leather. The limbs all curled in unnatural positions, fingers and toes painfully clawed. The shape of the body, all twisted and curled into itself was nothing compared to the face. The body only made Tristan cringe but the face made him physically sick. It was no wonder, with all of the skin, what there was of it, pulled back and tight that the thing’s laugh sounded like dry leaves.

“You knew I was using seikonō, but not meant for you.”

Tristan flinched at the oddity of the thing’s speech, the hiss and the mumble. He had no lips to form words. After a moment he got himself together and opened his mouth to speak but the thing in the corner was talking again… but maybe not to Tristan.

“Yes, yes, he did know. How fabulous was that? Oh and did you know—Yes, yes. We know, he’s not transformed yet, just a babe.”

“Uh…” Tristan muttered, completely unsure. Was the guy—yes, he decided it was more masculine than feminine, barely—talking to someone else, or himself?

“So glad you came. Very, very glad, indeed.”

Tristan straightened, realizing the guy was addressing him again. “Xuejiao said I should.”

“And Amunet?” His chin jutted to the side and Tristan frowned, understanding that the man wasn’t talking to him. “Amunet, she hates, burns. Lucky she didn’t bite him herself— Or just killed. She might have broken your word.”

Okay, that was going to get old fast. “She wanted to,” Tristan answered, taking a single step closer. “Are you Apos?”

That slithering, crusty laugh again. “Who else would I be?” Another laugh that had Tristan cringing until the next laughed out words reached him. “Your father?”

Apos was laughing harder now, nearly choking, but Tristan didn’t think it was funny.

“Are you?”

The laughter cut off sharply and Tristan let out a little sigh. “Er, yes. Yes.”

He narrowed his eyes at the old vampire. “But you don’t mean father the way I do…do you?”

Apos tried to shake his head and ended up with a twitch that reminded Tristan of Genoveva. “No. Probably no.” Again his chin jutted to the side as if he were talking to someone else. “Of course not but you can’t say. You promised. You.
Promised
!”

“Promised who, what?” Tristan dared another step closer and shivered when the cold finally got to him. It was quite possibly twenty degrees colder in here than outside. The hand not in a glove, clenched around his gun, ached.

Apos might have been frowning but it was all teeth, and two pronounced fangs, all a dark brown color. “Jason.”

Tristan wasn’t surprised, but he still had to fight not to react.

“No, no,” Apos hissed in a low conspiratory whisper. “He said so, he said to keep quiet.” A cough that might have been a scoff. “But I’m not saying it all, not all. It wouldn’t hurt to tell the boy some.  Just a little.”

Okay, this whole talking to himself thing was getting on Tristan’s nerves. “Tell me, Apos. Tell me what you know.”

The vampire shifted then, his whole body and Tristan recoiled at the dry sound of it. God, that was the guy’s skin making that horrid noise. Did it hurt being in his own body?

“Oh yes. Yes, very painful but better. I feel better every century. It doesn’t hurt to be awake anymore; you make me not hurt to be awake anymore.”

“I don’t even know you, man.”

A hissing laugh. “No, no but I am, in a way, your father. But not genetically, no. No genetics here, not my sperm, just my…”

The vampire fell silent, his mouth moving as if he were talking to himself again but not loud enough for Tristan to hear.

“Your what? Apos!” Tristan snapped his fingers, taking another dangerous step closer. “Focus.”

The vampire looked up slowly, his eyes visible to Tristan now. They were black, all the way through, no whites, no reflection, no light. “You woke me… What did you do?”

Tristan tensed, his hand flexing on the gun in his hand. Damn, his fingers were freezing up. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Don’t?”

“No. An ancient erased it from my mind.” If erase was the right word for it, knowing what he knew about the ability now.

Apos harrumphed. “Easy enough to fix. Come to me, I’ll look.”

Tristan scrambled back, trying not to look desperate to get away but the laugh assaulting him now said he’d failed.

“No biting, not yet? Okay okay. We understand—Do we? Ah, yes, yes. Of course, yes. Remember we agreed?”

“Apos, do you know who my father is, what I am?”

The vampire was scrutinizing him now. “Of course I do.”

Tristan waited, expecting the man to have another long conversation with himself but it never came. Apos even looked pensive in his silence.

“I have to know… please.”

“I can’t—we can’t. Not time yet, it’s not yet time!”

“Then why the fuck did you ask me to come here?”

Apos laughed again, almost thankfully. The noise of it was grating but it was better than pissing the man off. Then again, could he even move from his corner?

“Of course I can,” Apos snapped, sounding appalled. “We can move, and dance and run. But we like it here, it’s nice here. Doesn’t hurt here. The cold is nice.”

Tristan shivered again. “Yeah, well I fucking hate it and if you’re not going to offer me anything of any use, I’m fucking leaving.”

Apos was cackling again, setting Tristan’s whole body on edge. And it had nothing to do with vampire powers and Tristan’s sensitivity to them, it was just the huskiness of a dry laugh that grated his senses like nails on a chalkboard. In fact, Tristan had yet to feel a single tingle from the, supposedly, First Vampire. Aside from that seikonō, but then that could have come from anywhere.

The laughter cut off so that Tristan gasped, the wind taken from him. “And you won’t—Feel me, I mean. I don’t project like the others. I’m unique.”

“Yeah? So am I. Maybe we can start a club.”

The face of the man morphed and Tristan imagined Apos was grinning big. It was all teeth and tight brown cords. “Yes. You are. Well, Jason would never tell me my fate so I’m glad to have met you before whatever the future holds for a wraith like me.”

That was almost a coherent sentence and it made him stop to process.

Then Apos started talking to himself again, going on about pythia but nothing of any importance to Tristan.

“You said you’re my father but not by genetics, what did you mean?”

The creature forced a frown that looked like it might crack open the lines in his face. “I helped create the first Uruwashi.” A change in pitch said his other side was taking over again as he yipped out a sharp, “Yes! Yes, we fathered the Uruwashi, they’re our children, our precious, precious children.”

“You and Jason made the Uruwashi?”

A smile this time. Tristan thought the frown looked less painful. “Mostly Jason. His brains, his skill, his—well, my blood helped. I gave him my first child, the first of the First Children.”

Tristan swallowed hard. Okay, he got First Children, even heard the capital F and C in there when looney toons said it. What he wasn’t expecting was for this guy to basically confirm what Akane had said to him. Maybe she was more in the know than she realized. Damn, he should have kept the pearl on him. “The First Uruwashi was a vampire, wasn’t he?”

“She! Such a darling beautiful—Oh, Xuejiao didn’t tell you?”

“Uh?”

“Xuejiao’s mortal ancestor, er, well whatever her name was… she wanted the sun. Millennia after millennia she suffered. So I gave her the sun and more. So much more! Yeeesss,” hissed the other voice. “Wouldn’t call what we made Uruwashi, no, but maybe…” He went pensive again and just when Tristan was about to demand he finish his thought, Apos spoke again. “We, made a good monster, but it was right. Just! Made the sun come back. Made the devil stir in her hole. Should have known she’d know, caught her attention.”

“The dev—? You mean Izanami.”

The creature grunted, brows lifting. “You know Mother?”

“I know that she’s coming. For me.”

Apos’s eyes went incredibly wide, showing that there was indeed white in there somewhere and he ambled out of his cozy corner. Tristan gasped, horrified at the stiff, mechanical way the vampire moved, like a doll having its arms moved tick by tick for a stop motion film. Horrified and fascinated, he couldn’t move away, not even when the vampire ambled right up to him and fixed a hard, skeletal hand around Tristan’s wrist.

“You can’t be one with her! You can’t give her a child. You must kill it, kill it before it’s born!”