White Lies: (The Uruwashi Series #4) (7 page)

“Aye, that we is! Hold still!” Desmond shouted angrily as he took another swing at the big troll.

The vampire, Wren apparently, let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tristan was a little startled of how much he reminded him of Ash in that moment. Then he cursed himself for letting the thought, no matter how quick, distract him. This was exactly what Desmond had been talking about.

Wren looked up, half his expression impassive, the other half hidden behind his long hair. “Oogui, I have told you not to address me further.”

Desmond burst into laughter and Simon snickered. Even Tristan couldn’t help but snicker a little himself as he looked at the troll. “Wait, your name’s Ugly? Man, you got the short end of the stick on that one, pal.”

The troll screamed a roaring cry and leapt, jumping high into the air. Tristan and Simon gasped, scrambling back as the troll landed at the base of the temple steps, driving both huge fists into the ground. The first two rows of steps crumpled and broke open and a wave of wet snow crashed outward.

Tristan was faster these days and managed to grab Simon and jump away before getting covered in snow and broken stone. When it was all settled, Tristan was five feet back and to the right. And Wren had moved to stay in line with him at his place on the top step.

As Oogui slammed another tantrum-born fist down into the pummeled step, Desmond was cracking up where he’d been left, laugh-talking about how the troll’s name was “Ugly”. Damn vampire was laughing so hard he was crying red tears. Might have pissed his pants too if he weren’t dead.

“First off,” the troll started in rough English, a rough smoker’s sort of voice. “My name is Oogui. Oo-gu-ee.”

Simon snickered hard enough that a clump of clotting blood shot out of his nose.

“Second. I’m a not a ‘pal’. Thank you very much.”

Simon’s laughter doubled and he fell forward, hand on his thigh for support, the other holding onto the hem of Tristan’s jacket to keep himself tethered upright. Blood poured from his busted nose but he was too busy laughing to care. “Ugly... oh god,” the fae sputtered, “that’s good. Ugly, ha!”

“So,” Tristan said carefully to keep from bursting into pants-wetting laughter too. “You’re…” He had to clear his throat. “You’re a girl?”

More like a dinosaur with a puggle’s face
, he thought loud enough for the vampires to hear. That did it for Desmond and the vampire fell over, nearly asphyxiating he was laughing so hard. Even Wren made a noise that might have been a choked back laugh.

“Yes, you cretin. I’m a girl.”

Tristan was snickering now. “So wait. Your name is Ug—Oogui, and you’re a chick? You’re half naked.”

Oogui palmed one of four large folds on her chest. She gave the flab a good jiggle and let go so that it flopped against her chest. “It’s our culture, you beast.”

The laughter that he’d been holding back finally burst from Tristan and he had to swallowed it back down quickly to speak clearly. “Okay, sorry. Oogui. I just—” He lost to the laughter for good. He was trying so hard not to, but with Desmond and Simon letting lose, it was impossible to fight it anymore.

Tristan found a sudden inspiration to stop laughing when the whiz of a sword cutting air resonated right in front of him. He jumped back, his own sword coming free of the sheath. He may not have liked the sword as much as his gun, but dammed if he couldn’t weld it above average.

Thank you, Ash.

Instinct made Tristan drag Simon back with him. The fae yelped and fell to his ass in the snow. At the other end of the sword Wren looked at him with some consideration. That’s when Tristan noticed the half mask à la Phantom on the right half of his face that his hair had hid before.

“What gives?” Tristan asked. “You got a beef with me?”

Wren looked away from where he was watching Desmond tussle with the troll again and considered Tristan with a raised brow, head tilted to the side. “Are you the one?”

“What?” Tristan spat back. “You asking if I’m the Gatekeeper? ’Cause I’ll tell you right now, I’m not.”

The vampire scrutinized him again. Whatever he saw, maybe he didn’t like it because he harrumphed and advanced. Simon was shoved aside to fall back into the snow again as Tristan blocked a less than serious blow. Wren was just giving him a test drive. Guess he really didn’t know what Tristan was. So, whatever this was all about, it wasn’t him—for a change. How… refreshing.

“If you just want to dance, I’ve got to tell ya, my card is a little full, pal.”

Wren’s face was disturbingly stoic as he took a swing at him, but there was a world of thoughts behind his brown eyes. No, brown and blue, the one behind the Phantom mask was blue. The vampire gave Tristan one last jab for good measure, this one a little more serious as it grazed Tristan’s arm and nicked the back of his hand.

He hissed but refused to look at the cut. It didn’t feel deep, just a light warning. “All right,” Tristan said carefully and gave Simon a little shove to stay back when the fae tried to move around him. “You have my full attention.”

Wren lifted his chin. “Do I?”

“Wren! Wren!” The troll was hollering again.

The vampire visibly tensed, his face showing only the slightest shift into annoyance. Ash could take lessons from the dude, he was so dry. Then again, Tristan hadn’t really seen much of stoic Ash since she’d come out woman. Since she started being herself.

“You repulsive, vulgar insult to the senses,” Wren mumbled and then raised his voice. “I have told you on numerous occasions, Oogui, not to address me. I am not your Master nor your friend.”

“But, Wreeeeen,” Oogui whined in that deep, manly timber.

“Enough!” Wren shouted, and yet, strangely, his expression never changed with his raised, angry voice.

Desmond had moved up behind the troll and let out a growl. Oogui gave a surprised cry when Desmond sprung, landing on Oougi’s back, clinging to him like a monkey. The troll cried out in anger and spun so hard it sent Desmond flying. He landed, only to jump to his feet immediately.

Wren moved, making Tristan flinch and turn to face him again, focus only on him. “Disgusting beast, really. She seems to have taken a liking to me and calls me Master.” His brow knitted. “I’d never keep such revolting company.”

A sudden shout from the temple steps drew the group’s attention. “Uruwashi!”

It was one of the kitsune, bleeding and panting in her human skin. Tristan cringed when he saw the surprised look on Wren’s face, the look of recognition at the careless shouted word. Simon, feeling nervous, grabbed ahold of Tristan’s sleeve. Dammit, did she have to call him that?

“That one is the vampire in the news! He is the one who drinks and drowns the humans!”

Tristan felt himself go cold. That was the reason why Desmond had showed up in Greece. Tristan couldn’t read the article himself, but Mamoru had given him the cliff notes. A string of human deaths had been ruled as murder since not only were they obviously drowned despite no presence of a water source, but they were also drained of blood. It had the signature of vampire all over it. He hadn’t heard a thing about the case since they arrived back in Japan and frankly, had forgotten about it.

But, no matter his Master’s House, this vampire was only a vanilla. He had no water-based powers. He wouldn’t be able to drown the victims. Not unless there were two of them…

“Uruwashi?” Wren said looking startled. “They died out circa 950.”

That’s right, they died out during the Heian period. Interesting enough, that was right about the time Yuki was made a vampire. Was it a coincidence that the Uruwashi were all murdered around that same time? He wondered some nights.

Tristan ground his teeth. “Hey kid,” he said in a low voice to Simon. “You need to find someplace else to tremble.”

Simon shoved Tristan. “I’m not trembling and I’m not a kid. I’m older than you!”

He made a face, attention still fixed on Wren watching the show quietly, a tiny smile on his lips. “That might be true, but you still have to get the fuck out of my way.”

“Fuck you!” he shouted. Surprised, Tristan tore his gaze from Wren and looked down to Simon. He was positively fuming, cheeks brightened with soft blush that wasn’t the cold. The look in his eyes said he’d surprised himself with the outburst as he had Tristan. “I can fend for myself. Just because you’re an Uruwashi doesn’t mean I can’t help. I probably know more about them than you do.”

Dammit, where was the off switch on this kid? Between him and the kitsune, all of Tristan’s secrets were being given to the enemy.

There was a soft clapping, muted by gloves, and Tristan shot Wren a dirty look.

“I don’t deserve your help, Simon,” he muttered. He didn’t know if Simon heard him, but he wasn’t about to tell the poor kid right then that he’d had a part in his brother’s (probable) end and felt guilty for it even if it was inevitable. “Please, just go.”

“But I—”

“This is all very riveting,” Wren said. “But, if you don’t mind, you and I have business to discuss.”

Tristan barely had enough time to take his next breath before Wren shot forward. A splattering of snow pelted Tristan’s face and he gasped, jumping back. Wren’s hit was easily deflected and Tristan gave an angry cry, realizing the vampire was just toying with him again.

Every time Tristan tried to counter the vampire’s blows, he was driven further and further back, forced to maintain a defensive. It wasn’t until he noticed the sounds of Desmond and the troll growing distant that he realized what was happening.

Wren let up long enough to allow Tristan an offensive swing, but it was already too late. Swords crossed, the vampire smirked at Tristan’s obvious revelation and shoved him away, jumping back at the same time.

“Son of a bitch,” Tristan groaned. He’d been lured away from the others. He was facing down a vampire alone.

SILENCE from the ancient vampire was usually a much welcomed respite. In this moment though, it was beyond irritating. Thankfully, with more than mild persuading, Ash had convinced Yukihime to place that
thing
outside, away from her. She could still hear Malik from this distance, but he was content with quietly listening to the tense silence between the two Masters. As if he were poised to snatch up a carelessly spoken word and use it against Ash, make her pay for his death and ultimate confinement.

Ash shuddered, too aware of the third presence. Jaw tight, unwilling to give shape to her words, she bit out, “It was all a farce, was it not?”

Yukihime looked up slowly. She was in her trance again. Curse these episodes. The woman was all but useless during these spells. Hopefully she would recover quickly because Ash had no time to waste and even less patience to give. If she had to tear through every bit of this house to find her book, then she’d do it. Anything to get that book back. Anything to better things between her and Tristan.

“
Nani
?”

“Come now, Master,” Ash said with a sarcastic tone, trying to pull her back. “I may not be able to read your mind, but I know you. Why do you think I agreed to stay? I am never want to waste my time.”

The ancient vampire smiled, almost looking herself again. “Yare yare, there is a troll.”

Ash raised her eyebrows in question. “Who?”

“Oogui.”

“Oogui? Isn’t she—”

“Hai, hai,” Yukihime interrupted. “Desmond’s orders are only to relocate her.”

Relocation? Well, Ash wished the others luck if this was the same stubborn Oougi she’d crossed paths with some years back. Oogui was not a danger in any sense of maliciousness, but she was rather dumb and a troll’s size made them more than clumsy. “And the true objective of today’s farce?”

The older vampire didn’t even bother feigning innocence. “Oogui was squatting… but only because there was a vampire there.”

“Yukihime,” she chided.

“Don’t get yourself all bent out of shape, dear, it’s unsightly. He’s only a vanilla, even our virgin Uruwashi can handle a vanilla.”

“Who?” Ash pressed.

“Uh,” Yukihime floundered a moment, bit her lip and then blurted, “Wren.”

Ash flinched. “
To—Toshiro
? Does… does Desmond know?”

“I doubt it.”

“I see.” Ash paused for a moment, watching Yukihime silently study her. There was more, much more, to this story than said and Ash just hoped it didn’t mean putting Tristan in danger. “Then he is going to be very angry with you. And I am as well, for your information. Wren is a good man and you know it.”

Ash wasn’t worried about Tristan and Wren together—in fact, she thought they just might get along. Besides, she trusted Wren. He wouldn’t do anything rash. Tristan on the other hand…

The old vampire tisked, trying to act as if she didn’t care but Ash saw the tension she was holding onto. Something had set the vampire on edge and Ash intended to find out what.

“I’m glad you’re not mad at me anymore.”

“I never said that,” Ash snapped.

Yukihime smiled despite Ash’s obvious anger. “But you’re still here and that’s what matters. Don’t think I didn’t notice how worried you were when you first came in.”

Ash couldn’t deny that. It was simple habit, falling into old ways. That’s what she told herself anyway. “I only came for my biblos.” A pythia’s spell book was sacred. That Yukihime thought she could keep it from Ash was beyond reason.

Outside, Malik’s thoughts stirred but he didn’t send out a direct statement.

Yukihime stuck her lip out in a thoughtful pout. “Is that all?”

“What is this all about? What are you scheming now?”

“I’m not scheming,” she answered with a lot of emphasis on the last word.

Ash, not believing her, sighed, shaking her head.

Yukihime gave her own sigh and stretched out, laying on the floor on her side. “I needed to be sure.”

“Sure of what exactly?”

“Tristan.”

Ash tensed for more than one reason. Malik was expressing his opinions of the man and Ash was having a hard time ignoring them. “Explain.”

“Oh dear,” Yukihime said in a tone that was more norm. “There is nothing to say on it really. Just an old vampire being senile.”

“Yukihime,” Ash said in a firm tone. She was still angry with the old vampire for the part she played in her and Tristan’s fate. She ruined so much, Ash wasn’t sure it could be fixed anymore.

“You’re afraid of him.”

Ash flinched. “I—
no
. Of course not, don’t be so absurd.”

“Yes,” Yukihime insisted and sat up. “You are.”

“No, not him. I—” She looked away and then forced herself to meet Yukihime’s eyes again. “Lilith, all of the things she has seen and spoken of… I am afraid of her truths.”

“Ah, now that I believe. So after all of these long years, you are finally trusting the things she speaks of?”

Ash curled her nose up at the old Master vampire. “Fear and doubt are two completely different things.”

“That is the truth.” Yukihime let out a long breath and stretched. “How about some tea, my dear?”

“Yukihime?”

“Oh yes, of course. How silly of me, we cannot drink tea.”

“Some, perhaps.” Ash always found it queer that they could tolerate alcoholic beverages and none other. But then, she’d always had this theory of the “spirit” of spirits and what vampires really took from living blood. No one else but a pythia would ever entertain her wild theories; vampire most of all, so afraid of change and truth.

“Yes, but not the amount I would like.”

Ash considered her for a moment, head cocked to the side. “Do you often think of such things? Wanting to be… human again?”

The other woman burst into laughter. “Oh my dear, I wouldn’t be a vampire if I didn’t.”

Ash had to smile. “No, no you would not.”

“How was it being spelled human in Greece?”

“The truth?”

Yukihime nodded. She almost seemed like an adult with that look on her face.

Ash frowned, then straightened looking stern and proud. “Mildly intolerable.”

Yukihime chirped a little laugh. “Sō ka? It couldn’t have been all bad,
ne
?”

Ash actually felt herself flush as she remembered her favorite part of their entire vacation, parts of France and Greece being part of that trip. She looked away but Yukihime had already seen the blush. “No, not all bad.”

“Your hunger, that must have been nice to do without for once…”

She knew what Yukihime was trying to say and why the old vampire was being obtuse about it was beyond Ash, but she appreciated it nonetheless. “I almost bit him anyway.” The suck mark she’d left on him lingered for weeks. She still wasn’t sure how she managed to not bite.

Yukihime considered her for a long moment before reaching out to run a strand of Ash’s dark hair through her fingers. “So… this is permanent? You’re not wearing an aura.”

Ash nodded. “Permanent. It fixed my eyesight as well.” Lucien nearly destroyed her left eye with his fire, but it had been healing, slowly. Whatever she was spelled with, whatever happened to her to make her look like this fixed everything Lucien wrought.

“Interesting.
Ma
,” Yukihime said, standing and smoothing out her clothing. “You’re still a vampire. No pythia spell can ever take that from you.”

Ash was afraid of that, but still had to try. There
had
to be at least one spell to help curb that never-ending hunger. The emptiness all vampires carried in them, that void that could never be filled. “Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

Yukihime’s gaze was narrow and dark when she glanced at Ash. “How did it feel?”

Ash looked down at her hands, really thinking about it, trying to find the perfect answer. Finally, she settled on, “Vile. I was still stronger than human, my reflexes faster, and a slave to the sun but I had no advanced hearing, none. And I felt… dull and heavy. Almost completely human in all aspects.” She paused and met Yukihime’s eyes. “I hated it.”

The vampire pouted out her bottom lip, nodding as if she understood. “No. Honestly, I’d never heard of such a spell. And yes, I agree, it does sound vile. But you know, the pythia have been trying for centuries to shift the balance.”

Ash scoffed. “That does not sound like the pythia at all.”

“Well, I suppose it’s only a few. But a few is all it takes to shift fate. Look at what men like Hitler have done, and he was only human—well, partially, but he didn’t know that.”

Ash was shocked and deeply disturbed to hear this, but managed to keep her composure. She thought she knew the pythia even more intimately than any other vampire in existence, born and raised in a pythia home as she was. “Do you know who might be trying to change things?”

Yukihime looked affronted. “Of course I do but I’m not about to tell you.” She looked away, a small pout making her bottom lip stick out. “Not yet anyway.”

Ash heaved a sigh, remaining on her spot on the floor as she watched Yukihime gather up a cast iron tea pot and two very delicate and ancient
chawan
, or tea bowls. There was no forcing the ancient vampire into anything, not with words anyway. Ash could use her new skills on the vampire. The thought made her smile.

“Perhaps they are getting closer to it finally…”

Yukihime turned, looking angry. “You can say it: to a cure. A cure for vampirism.”

Not that Ash ever believed it. But she never would have considered that a pythia would warp fate so purposefully if she hadn’t seen it firsthand. Being spelled human couldn’t get her any closer to firsthand.

“Shishō…” Ash sighed. They’d had this argument before—it was their regular sparring grounds. “The pythia are
not
the ones who would see us gone from the earth.”

“No,” Yukihime snapped as she clunked the heavy iron teapot down onto the deck. She lifted the lid and in funneled a serving of snow that Yukihime then commanded to return to liquid form inside the pot. Any other Water user would then have to do the natural next step of putting the pot over fire, but Yukihime didn’t need to as she gave a little mental push and the water inside burst into an instant boil.

“No,” she said again as she put the pot down in front of Ash. “The pythia aren’t the ones who have sought to destroy us.”

Ash didn’t like what Yukihime was saying. “Of course not,” she snapped.

The older vampire knelt before Ash with the tea bowls and a tin of tea that Ash hoped was from this century. Last time Yukihime forced tea on her it had been far, far too old and tasted like death. Maybe it all did now that she, herself, was dead.

“Did your own memories not lend you anything?” Yuki asked with a bit of a snide tone.

“Now you are just being cruel.”

Yukihime shook her head. “The Uruwashi,” she said and looked up when Ash reacted. “They have been the only ones
ever
to seek our eradication.”

“Tristan does not. Besides, it’s as you say, it only takes one person to shift fate and it will not be him.”

Yukihime only raised her brow at Ash in question.

“If you are so afraid of his intentions, then why have you allowed him to live all this time? Why use him?”

The ancient vampire smiled and arranged the tea bowls between them.

Ash let out an annoyed huff and moved to stand. “If you are just going to play these mind games with me then I will wait for the others return in another room.”

Yukihime jerked forward to stop Ash from leaving. “
Onegaishimasu
,” she gasped. “I wish you to stay… please.”

Ash slumped. The fact that Yukihime used such a formal version of please and even said it twice, it appealed the softer side of Ash. The side she’d all but lost to her dead Master. The side that Tristan was slowly reviving. She really wanted to believe with all her person that he was good for her, but, and she hated the feeling at all, there was a sliver of doubt. He was an Uruwashi, sworn killers of her kind. They were both willing to overlook the past if it meant a happy future. But Yukihime seemed to have doubts and that worried Ash.

“You really do love him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Ash said in a soft voice, eyes full of longing. “More than anyone.” She was starting to realize, that for the first time in a very long time, she missed being around another person. Not to misunderstand, she loved Haruka, very much, but she did not feel this uncontrollable urge to constantly be with her like she did with Tristan. The urge, she had to keep reminding herself, was not in her blood, but in her heart.

“I have faith in him,” Yukihime said plainly. “I have faith in fate. That is why I let him live. We need him, all of life on Earth needs him.”

So she constantly said. Ash raised a brow at her. “You’re just testing him. Why, for what?”