White Lies: (The Uruwashi Series #4) (15 page)

At ease again, Wren looked perplexed, head turned to hide the ruined side of his face from view, always very conscious of how others saw him. “You’re Uruwashi,” he said with a calm frankness.

“I’m not!” Tristan snapped. “I’m just a mutt and a virgin, barely getting by, blundering through life, just barely missing death—” He unconsciously touched the newest scar over his heart where he should have died. “I lived instead of Mamoru, it wasn’t supposed to be one or the other. I can’t protect the one’s I love, instead I’m forced to bare their loss, their pain! I can’t do anything worth a damn that’s good anymore!”

The world was narrowing and the panic rose. Everything he said, it was all true. He was an ant under the thumb of the universe, that’s how insignificant he was. And as soon as Mother arose, because fuck all if he was about to kill innocent pregnant women, then he’d die. Surely he would because he’d never join with the Mother of Sin.

Tristan stumbled back a few steps, unable to hide his emotions. He felt naked in front of a man he wasn’t sure he should trust yet. He’d said too much.

“You do know about the seven shinwa and heikō?”

Tristan blinked at the other man, slowly lifting from the cloud of panic. “Uh… yeah.” Why was he bringing this up?

“Have you heard of Apos?”

“That a thing or a who?”

Wren licked his lips and shifted on his seat, a nervous gesture if any. “Everything has to come from something, a single pair of beings with which the future of an entire race is born from.”

Tristan’s stomach dropped and he struggled—and failed, he was sure—to hide his reaction. Was this man, this vanilla vampire seemingly unimportant in the greater order of things in the know? Is that the reason for their meeting?

Not noticing Tristan’s inner turmoil, Wren continued. “For the vampire in particular, I’m told that a single person gave birth to our kind. Apos, the First Vampire.” Wren’s expression went dark. “It’s said that he wields all four seikonō.”

Tristan’s initial reaction of yelling “bullshit” was lost to his utter shock. In fact, he couldn’t even speak as logic rolled in the realized that, yeah, it was possible. Wouldn’t at least the Mother of all shinwa, the Mother of vampire, wouldn’t she have all four elements?

All of the hair on Tristan’s body rose. Yeah, now the complete amount of fucked he was in was starting to make itself clear.

“Xuejiao claims Apos is her Master.”

After another moment of being taken off guard, Tristan swallowed hard and shook his head. “No.” Of all the things he’d seen and heard… “No, I don’t buy it.” He couldn’t believe because then it’d be true and then maybe his problems with Mother would mean nothing, because, surely, if he went after someone like Xuejiao, he would die.

Wren shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know what to believe either. She is wrong in many things, a skewed sense of morals, but I’ve never found her to be a liar.”

“But you never saw this Apos person?”

“No.”

“And Xuejiao, I’m guessing, is the one who told you all this shit about the First Vampire and such, right?”

“Hai.”

“Then it’s bullshit,” Tristan said standing. “It’s impossible for a vampire to be more than one element.” He had to believe. Believe, believe, believe…

Fuck!

Wren, still on the floor, looked up to him. “Not everything in this world is black or white, Tristan. Off or on, good or evil. There’s so much grey… Vampire are made of grey.” The vampire stood fluidly and moved around to stand before Tristan. “
You
are made of grey.”

Tristan scowled. “I know what I am.” Yeah, a murderer and soon to be murdered himself. Damn.

The vampire put his hands up in defense, as if to say sorry, but he didn’t look like he really meant it as a tiny smirk quirked the corner of his mouth. “I’m just saying that you must be open to all possibilities, however impossible.”

Tristan never thought of himself as close-minded about anything, but fear made him react in strong ways. Worst of all, he was afraid of himself more than the idea of trying to kill someone like Xuejiao.

“Does she really Master two seikonō?”

Understanding the look of disappointment and fear on Tristan’s face, Wren nodded somberly. Neither of them wanted it to be true and that it was frightened them both.

“What makes you think I can even touch her?”

He looked Tristan over before standing. “I’ve seen up close what your kind can do.”

“Yeah, but Mamoru was—”

“Bitten?” Wren moved closer to Tristan. “I find it hard to believe Ash hasn’t bitten you.” The vampire stopped very close to Tristan, setting off all his instincts to move away, but held his ground. “Her scent is all over you but not in you. Your blood is clean… Must be because of Nastasia, why she won’t bite you.”

Tristan’s brow furrowed. He’d heard the name before but couldn’t remember where. Before he could ask, Wren moved in a way that made him flinch back. Then the man was reaching for him.

“What are you doing?”

“May I touch you?”

Tristan took a step back. “
No
,” he snapped.

A smile curled Wren’s lips. “I promise, nothing scandalous, I just… I find you curious and I—I’m vanilla, but I still have strong mental facilities. I can’t command water to do my bidding as my Master can but I can still put the fear of death into humans with a single word. I can also, and pardon my metaphor,
taste
your mind. There’s something—I’d like to have a closer look at.”

Tristan took a few more steps back until he felt a wall at his back. Bad move. “No. I don’t need anyone else in my head, you got it?”

Wren didn’t look surprised at all. “So someone
has
been in your mind. Was it Master?”

“No, it was Yukihime.”

Wren looked like he’d just been punched in the nuts by his best friend. “What did she do to you?”

“I don’t know,” Tristan answered frowning.

“If you’d allow me, I could—When a vampire manipulates memories, they don’t actually erase them. Did you know?”

Tristan shook his head.

Wren nodded decisively. “Most vampire can only lock them up tight in the owner’s mind. Barricade them. However, ancients and older, mostly of the water line, can learn how to remove them but even then they must reside in a mind, the offending Master’s mind to be exact. And those memories will seek out their original host should they come in blood contact again.”

He let out a shaky breath. He had no idea. He knew, from what Mamoru had said, that pythia spells could not only flat out erase the mind of memories—targeted or otherwise—but also reform them and create falsities. He’d always thought that’s how the vampire’s gift worked too. He hadn’t thought to ask before and wished he had. This truth changed so many things.

“You think…” He licked his lips. “You think they’re still with me?”

“If you are unbitten, then yes, as the Master must bite to transfer the memories from the host… through blood.”

He was breathing hard. Of course, it made sense. If Yuki was the one to fuck in his head and it was obvious he hadn’t been bitten, then he still had those memories. They were just locked up tight. Or… maybe not so tight. His dreams, were they actual memories trying to break free? And if they were, did he really want them again. The things he, felt the fear and despair, they were overwhelming at night, in his head, in his dreams. Did he
really
want to know what caused such strong emotions?

“I, uh—” Tristan let out a surprised squeak that embarrassed him, jumping forward to push past Wren. Standing on the other side of the table was a young child, a Chinese girl of about seven. Soft, round face with perfectly straight black hair and bangs cut just above sparkling eyes. “Hey! Where’d you come from?”

Wren gasped and spun, grabbing Tristan’s arm and yanking him back, hissing the American’s name into his ear so that the word aggravated Tristan’s brain like a cheese grater.

He cringed at the emotion Wren pushed onto him. “Gah, what’s the big deal, Wren? Fuck, that hurt.”

The vampire’s hands where they held onto Tristan’s arms tightened. Tristan was about to push the man away when Wren said in a shaky voice, “A very good evening to you, Master Xuejiao.”

THE girl let out a pitched squeal and charged Wren, arms wide to take him in a hug. The vampire’s nails cut into Tristan’s good arm as Wren froze in fear. Tristan managed to tear his arm free and stumbled away from the others when the girl tumbled into Wren, wrapping her little arms around him.

“Uh… Wren?” Tristan muttered, rubbing where Wren’d held on.

The vampire looked up into Tristan’s face in a way that let his hair fall away, giving Tristan an unfettered view of the mask and the fear in his eyes. Wren shook his head, ever so slightly and whispered, “Don’t.”

“Dude. She’s just a child, I can’t kil—”

“Don’t!” Wren screamed but it was too late.

The little girl let go of Wren, spinning to face Tristan. Hands clasped timidly before her, the child looked up to him. She had a strong Asian shape to her eyes, but they were large and shined with her smile. Those big fangs were pretty damn shiny too. “Hi.”

“Uh, hey…?”

She took a little step towards him and tilted her head to the side, gazing up at him. Christ, she was adorable. “I’m Xuejiao.”

Tristan glanced back at Wren. The vampire looked positively horrified. Tristan clicked off the safety off the gun under his left arm but left it nestled in the holster. “Yeah…”

“What are you?” she said with the simple innocence of a child. Her English was perfect and without a trace of Asian, or otherwise, accent.

“Um…” Tristan glanced at Wren. The vampire was stone still, his eyes wide in horror.

“You feel human, but not.” The girl put a hand to her chin in thought and then burst with sudden excitement. “I know what you feel like! Oh, Wrenny-poo!”

Tristan took a step back.
Wrenny-poo
?

Xuejiao spun to Wren, taking his hands and swinging his arms back and forth. “You shouldn’t have!”

“Shouldn’t have, what?” Tristan asked as his instincts silently screamed at him to run. Xuejiao seemed like a sweet little girl, but then, Tristan knew better when it came to the vampires. They all lied, starting with their appearance.

The little girl let go of Wren and moved closer to Tristan. “Well, he lured you here for me, of course.”

“Wh—what?” Wren chirped and shot forward only to be slammed back by the tiny fist of the vampire before him. His feet were taken out from under him and he flew back a good eight feet into a wall. He grunted with the impact and quickly picked himself up. But Xuejiao was already standing directly in front of Tristan.

When it registered that she’d moved and was in his personal space, Tristan gasped, taking a step back. It was too late and he blinked down in surprise at the tiny little hands holding his wrist, keeping him from backing away.

“You see, Wrenny-poo knows just how much I enjoyed the blood of your kind, so he had you delivered especially for me.”

“That’s not—” Before Wren could finish protesting, Xuejiao threw her hand out and a gag of ice silenced him. He slumped down against the wall, pulling desperately at the ice choking him. The vampire was just vanilla enough that he might have needed to breathe, but Tristan didn’t know for sure. As he let the little thought distract him, a bolt of lightning shot out of Xuejiao’s hand and hit Wren square in the chest, knocking him out cold.

Tristan only could gape. Who needed a fucking taser when you were a goddamned Sith Lord…. or a vampire, apparently.

Darth Xue.

Fuck
.

She smiled a smile that suddenly looked all adult and glared up at Tristan with contemptuous eyes. Her voice was deeper and evinced more of an adult candor, darker and made his skin cold. “Or was there some other nefarious plan in mind?”

Cold started to seep out of her hand and overtake his arm. Tristan gasped but refused to struggle against it even though the ice felt as if it’d permeated to his very bone, burning him from the inside.

“Was my darling Wrenny-poo filling your head with his wild ideas of killing me?”

The temperature in the room dropped a sudden twenty degrees and a breeze strong enough to lift everyone’s hair circled the room. Tristan gave his arm a little testing sort of tug but the child vampire held fast with her immense strength. Sure, she had to use both tiny hands just to get a proper hold of Tristan’s larger wrist, but they were like a vice. Good for him, he had two arms.

Xuejiao noticed him reaching for his gun with the awkward left hand pull and gave him a little squeeze. When Tristan looked into her half-lidded eyes, goose bumps ran down his entire body. She no longer looked like the child she emulated but the true killer she was. “I wouldn’t.”

He swallowed, mouth dry with apprehension and dared to look up, frowning when he realized Wren wasn’t moving.

“What do you want?” he asked carefully, afraid lest he speak too loud he might set the child off.

“Just Wren,” she said plainly.

The tension was like a wire around his throat. One overzealous swallow and he’d be cut, bleeding out before he could stop it. He was so focused on remaining calm that he couldn’t think clearly. He couldn’t narrow down that one thought that would get him out of this alive.

“Why?” Seemed like a simple enough start.

She titled her head, losing a touch of her dark mien. “Because he’s mine.”

“And how does killing all those innocent people bring him to you?”

She frowned, looking pouty and adorable. “That’s got nothing to do with him. I like doing that, but it’s not for him.”

Coldness sliced through Tristan. He was more resolved now than ever to take this vampire out. It brought to mind of his time in Greece, on that infernal ferry with Mamoru as they went across the Mediterranean to the mainland. Mamoru spoke of vampire law at length, but what really interested Tristan was Uruwashi law.

Back in the old days, back when the Uruwashi still flourished, it was their edict to kill every single vampire they’d encounter. The vampire’s perceived goodness meant nothing to the Uruwashi of old. Total eradication was the goal.

After the Uruwashi’s near decimation, they had to change their way of thinking. It was impossible for such a small, and weakened, number of Uruwashi to kill off the vampire race as a whole so they started to judge the distinction of life or death on a vampire’s merit. Of course every person’s personal beliefs of good versus bad are different. So they devised a standardized check list. Over time a list of nearly a dozen questions was dwindled down to one.

Anyone might obviously assume it was something trite like “As a vampire, have you killed a human?” But what was the point of asking a question that had a one-hundred percent response rate? Even the most sensitive of vampires to the human plight killed. By desire, necessity or accident, it was what they did.

No, the question was, “Do you regret killing the innocent?” Yes, meant the vampire lived, no equaled death. It was ultimately flawed, since as Wren had said, there was much grey in the world. But it was hard to deny the justification for extermination when the vampire in question was now standing before Tristan so boldly exclaiming that she killed those people maliciously because she liked it. She didn’t regret it; he knew without her saying so. 

There was no thinking his full plan through as Tristan pulled his gun on the child vampire. A part of him was horrified, rallied against his principles that killing a child was wrong, no matter what she’d done or what she was. But the bigger part, the part that sought justice and still hurt with the need for vengeance that hadn’t been satisfied with Malik wanted that little vampire dead. He hungered for her death the way a vampire hungered for warm life and it broke another piece of his humanity as he understood it and accepted it.

Whatever he intended to do to bring down the child was lost in a flurry of hissed curses, a blow to the face and the feeling of weightlessness. When Tristan came to a few seconds later, he was laid on floor with the child vampire crouching over him, his gun in her hand were she rested it casually against her temple. It was stupid, thinking a gun would work on someone so old, but it felt like the better option over the katana.

“I don’t like these things,” she said, wiggling the gun around with her finger haphazardly on the trigger. “They’re so impersonal. Though, I understand them, their simplicity and power.”

Tristan was still dazed, his vision coming and going too much for him to really grasp his situation.

“I’m leaving now and taking Wren with me. You can try to stop me, but you shouldn’t. I expect that for leaving you with your life, you will back off. Don’t follow me, don’t send others for me. I’m keeping Wren, is that clear?”

Tristan frowned. Wren was the cost to end her rampart killing? Seemed fair enough to him, but then why did thought make him itch? There was somewhere deep in his brain that was screaming at him to get the fuck up already and do something but he couldn’t put a linear thought together.

Xuejiao lowered her face close to his. He couldn’t focus on her expression anymore and the black was threatening again. “You Uruwashi really are a pitiful bunch, I’d hate to infect myself with your futility by taking your blood into me.” She dropped the gun with a loud clank, making Tristan flinch. “Shame…” Her face disappeared from over Tristan and he was left blinking against the black in his vision, staring up at the ceiling. “I remember how good the full-blooded Uruwashi tasted. Had such fun with them.”

There was shuffling across the room, the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor. “Don’t follow us. Warn the others to stay away or I will end you and everyone around you.”

Tristan groaned his answer, his eyes rolling back into his head. The last thing he remembered was feeling heavy and cold.

TRISTAN awoke shivering.

He was so very cold and his head hurt. When he touched his forehead over the throb and came away with blood he frowned. He turned his head enough to look to the side and nearly dunked his face into water. He was still on the floor of Wren’s place, but there was four inches of standing water all around and the water next to his head was dark red with his blood.

“Dammit,” he muttered and tried to sit up but felt too dizzy. So he just lay there in the freezing water, shivering violently, uncontrollably.  He didn’t really have to wonder what happened after he failed to stop that little vampire and he couldn’t help but be impressed that such a pint-sized person managed to take him down so easily.

Was that what he had to look forward to, the swatting of a fly, when it came to Mother?
Enough of that.
No time to harp on what’s to come, deal with the now.

After the spinning subsided, he tried to move again and managed to get himself upright. His head spun and he had to shut his eyes and breathed slowly against the nausea. The blood was flowing now down over his face, into his left eye and he looked around, trying to find something to tie around his head. He stopped with a jolt of surprise when a snowflake the size of a golf ball floated by. That’s when he saw the rest of the room. It was filled with them.

“Oh wow,” he muttered as he stumbled unsteadily to his feet, one hand clutching his head, the other against the wall for support. He let out a yelp followed by a growled curse when something electric and sharp shot down his spine, dropping him to his knees in the water with a big splash.

“What the shit?” he asked, eyes wide in horror because even with his mind cloudy, he understood in an instant what’d happened. The snowflake he brushed when he stood had burst apart at his touch and shocked him. It seemed completely impossible that a vampire would have two seikonō as Wren had claimed and yet, here seemed to stand all the proof he needed in tiny little snowflakes made of snow and lightning.

Just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, he reached out with a tentative hand and touched another snowflake. It popped on his palm in a spray of purple sparks. A second later, when those sparks were already a distant memory, the pain overtook him. His whole arm convulsed with a surge of raw electricity that made him yelp again and fall back against the wall with his legs pinned awkwardly under him. He was soaked through and through and it felt as if the power of that little spark spread throughout his body with the same force as his arm had taken.

When the surge was over, he lay slumped and tingling against the wall, gathering his breath and resolve. That’s when the true horror of the room came into sharp focus. There was no way he would be able to leave without shocking the fuck out of himself on all those snowflakes. And if one snowflake hurt that bad, just how would he survive dozens?

The creak of the heavy metal door downstairs altered him to it opening and Tristan held his breath. He had no idea what time it was anymore. If it were night or day. If the person coming up those stairs now was human or vampire. On his side or not. He could see his gun on the table, but at five feet away with at least twenty snowflakes between them, he wasn’t ready to go for it just yet. And there was no way he could wield the katana properly with his arm messed up.

“Damn,” Tristan sighed, dropping his shoulders when the large body filled the doorway.

“The fook is this shite?”

Tristan wiggled his legs out from under him with sigh. “What’re you doing here?”