Bete Noire (28 page)

He had to laugh. They were in deep shit and Ash had finally decided to start talking to him, tell him things he should have known ages ago. “You have the worst timing sometimes, Ash.”

“Thank you,” she said in a soft, wispy voice.

“For…?”

“For not giving up on me.”

He smiled, resting his head back again to shut his eyes.

“No,” she finally answered. “I am not strong enough to call upon my seikonō. If I’d fed on Sebastian before leaving then perhaps yes, I could have leveled this whole building.”

Holy Jesu
s.
The whole damn place, really?

“Yes,” she said softly. “Really.”

“What’s going to happen to us?”

There was a long silence. The only thing he could hear was the soft drip of water in the corner of his cell joined by another from somewhere down the hall. He thought she wasn’t going to answer, when she finally did.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, opening his eyes again. They stung with dryness and watered up immediately but he didn’t have the energy to even lift a hand to wipe the tears away even if they tickled his cheeks. “Don’t play coy, Ash. You told me once that Lucien was once in Malik’s service. That means whatever disgusting things Malik did, Lucien does too. I’d like to know what’s in store for us. Maybe I can form a plan while you sleep.”

Ash sighed heavily from within her cell and the scrape of her body sliding down the stone wall sounded very close. “Are you sure you want to know?”

He rubbed his forehead, feeling that knot again, and groaned. It’s why he asked. “Thought you were being forthright all the sudden?”

She sighed again. “There will be blood, of course.”

“Yeah, I figured...”

“Ther
e will be torture. I will be bled, but the vampire in me will like it. The human in me will be afraid, weak. I will be beaten, my body made to move in impossible positions as daggers, hot iron and other sharp instruments pierce my flesh, only to heal around the cold metal and then be yanked free, opening the wound again.”

Her voice took on a cold, hollow tone as if she were only reciting the words, far removed from the feeling or memories they possessed. “I will be skinned, in whole, in part or just a piece: a breast, a finger, an ear... And then the days of painful healing as it grows back, feeling each and every fiber of my preternatural being forming the missing part. I will be denied any blood to help aid in the healing and regeneration making the healing hurt even more. I will be half mad and starved. I will beg for food then, any food. And I will kill innocent beings. Even you.

“Then there will be rape. If I am lucky, it will be only one of them at time. If I am very lucky, I will have already lost consciousness from the torture beforehand. But if I am unlucky, as such as these things tend to go for me in my life... they will both have me at once and with implements not made of flesh and blood. And this rape with steel, wood, whatever they have that causes harm, will happen over and over again until Lucien exhausts his interest in me.

“After they are done breaking my body, they will promise me all my heart desires only to take it away again and again. And once my mind proves to be just as broken as my wretched bo
dy, they will turn to you. You will, of course, be bled and raped too. Once your body is broken and near death, then, maybe then, he will make you one of us. And to make my suffering the epitome of hell, he will give you to me and in my hunger driven lunacy I will attack you and kill you. Regardless of the means, their end is clear…

“Death,” she whispered softly, “not so beautiful.”

Tristan’s eyes were full of tears and it had nothing to do with how dry they’d been. These tears weren’t for his fate but of the horrible things she just described—the very horrors she lived through for centuries.

“My god,” he whispered in a shaky voice, “I… I had no idea.” How could anyone do such things to another living person? How could people treat each other that way?

“We are not people, Tristan,” Ash answered quickly, her voice sharp. “We are monsters.”

He shook his head
although Ash couldn’t see it, and a tear found its way down his cheek. “Is that really the life you led before you escaped Malik?”

“I fell to his charm and by the time I realized the folly of it all, the danger I was destined for,” she sighed heavily, “it was far too late. Far, far too late for me and so many others like me.”

“Disgusting monster.”

“No arguments there.”

“How? How did you survive that?”

She gave a sudden and curt laugh that made him jump. “I was under his thumb for...” She paused, making a soft hum, a considering noise. “Nearly two hundred and sixty years. I persevered because I felt I deserved the pain. For my sins, the sin of being what I was.”

“Fucking hell... no one’s sins are worth any of the horrors you just—”

“I know,” she said softly but firmly, interrupting him. “I understand that now. I may be three hundred and forty-two years old and preternatural, but I am still human at my core. Dying never changed that for me like it does for so many others. My thoughts and feelings are born of the human I once was. In truth... I,” she made a small noise that was almost a laugh, “I still carry the blame for others actions, when they are clearly in the wrong—it was something I did when I was alive. I suppose old dogs never do learn new tricks, as they say.”

“Oh Ash…”

The silence hung for a few minutes. Tristan started to drift. He knew he had to stay awake but the drugs still in his system were working against him.

“I miss Haruka,” a soft voice whispered and Tristan’s eyes shot open. He’d been nearly asleep.

“I’m sorry.”

“She… After I escaped Malik, after being tortured and having watched everything I loved die, all I wanted was to seek my own death, on my terms. That was the only reason I escaped was so that I could die in peace. Yukihime found me in a dirty alleyway just moments before the sun was to rise and turn me to dust. I wonder so many nights now if she knew. She had to have known. And like Malik, she offered me a new life—to be reborn again. I was too weak to say no, and too weak to stay in the open and let the sun take me. And I let her remake the person I was. It wasn’t until that snowy day in 1985 that I finally found my true salvation, the girl that would then become my martyr.”

This was the first time since her death that Ash had even spoken Haruka’s name. Tristan frowned, resting his cheek across his arms where they held his knees to his chest. He was thinking,
what a nightmare
, for them both.

She gave a tiny laugh. “Yes. It was all a nightmare. Then, there was you, Tristan.”

He sat up, tense. This was the Ash he knew again, not that woman earlier who threatened to kill him for making too much noise. Not that woman earlier who wanted nothing to do with him, who told him to go home. This was the Ash that cared for him. He was surer now than before, but all that weirdness earlier had just been an act. She really was trying to push him away. To protect him. She knew all this was going to happen and she didn’t know of any other way to make him turn away, to save him. Too bad it didn’t work.

No
.

No, he was glad he stayed because if he hadn’t Ash would have to endure all of this again alone. Even if they both died here, he was glad to die with her. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ash wished she could see Tristan, just one last time, to tell him face to face everything she’d been holding back. “You, you are my true salvation.”

“Ash.” He shook his head. “Haruka, she… she wouldn’t have died if it wasn’t for me. Malik was only after me.”

“You are wrong. It was all a game, between Master and I. I would hunt him, try to kill him, inevitably fail… rinse and repeat. Master wanted me under his thumb again but was willing to wait as long as it took, until he was bored of the game. I think—no, I know, he would have eventually killed Haruka to spite me. He only moved his schedule up when you appeared. He knew immediately you were a threat.”

“Because of Lilith?” he whispered.

Ash looked down to her lap, wishing she hadn’t kept the secret from him for so long. “Do you remember when we killed him?”

Did he remember? “I’ll never forget it.”

“And you remember that I told you I saw your mother’s death…?”

Tristan snapped upright, almost hitting his head on the wall behind him. “Ash?” he whispered nervously. “What else did you see?”

“So many things… things I should have told you before. I am sorry for the way I am. I should have told you before.”

“Ash…?”

“I think I understand now.”

He was starting to feel desperate. “Understand what?”

Ash gasped, doubling over as the sun outside of their underground prison broke the horizon.  “My… role.”

Tristan turned around and touched the wall separating them. The cold burn in his middle was starting to fade. He was losing her. “Role? What role? What the hell are you talking about?”

“…all… fore… told.”

Her presence was almost gone. “Ash! Foretold what? The pythia? What’d Lilith see?”

“Sorry,” she hissed. A moan followed, almost a whimper, and she let out a long breath as her body went completely limp.

Then there was nothing. The sun had taken her.

Tristan was left alone in his cold, damp cell with nothing to keep him company except for the sound of water making its way through the foundation and his conversation with Ash as it played over and over in his head. The weariness he fought so hard to banish was gone in a rush of adrenaline. What had Ash been trying to tell him? What secrets had she been keeping from him all this time? He couldn’t believe he was so oblivious to not have thought of it before.

A rat the size of a Maine Coon somehow squeezed its way through a set of bricks
barely an inch apart and stopped, fixing its beady eyes on Tristan. He stiffened, scowling at it, wondering what sort of diseases the thing had. At least he had someone to talk to during the long day light hours.

TRISTAN spent the rest of his morning touching every single, nasty ass brick in his cell. Twice. He pushed. He pulled. He kicked and fell over. He paced until he couldn’t stand anymore. He beat on the walls, the bars, the door until his hands ached. He screamed and cursed out his frustrations despite the pounding in his head.

And the whole time he spent exploring his tiny space the conversation he had with Ash played over and over again until he was too tired to even think. He really needed to figure a way out but all he could think of was that Ash had lied to him again. And that this time, the lie was just too big. In the end, it would cost them their lives. Maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but with his body aching and mind worn mentally thin, it was all he could come up with. 

When he just couldn’t move anymore he sat in the far corner, opposite of the stinking water puddle and facing the door, knees pulled up, arms crossed across them with his head resting on forearms. He needed to sleep, to regain his sanity and strength for when the vampires awoke again, even if that left him vulnerable to Sebastian during the day still. Who knew what that bastard fae would do to him while he was out.

He was just staring at floor, fixated on a drop of water snaking its way through the veins in the stone. It was ridiculously captivating. He took it as a sign of his eminent insanity. After a while he realized that he was no longer watching the water on the stone floor, but that he was seeing only the blackness of the inside of his eyelids. He moaned, feeling heavy and non-responsive as he tried to force his eyes open again. He knew he had open them. He had to stay awake, but the call
for rest was just too much.

Maybe just a few minutes…

A wave of goose bumps lit up his flesh. A soft, sensual voice called to him, covering him with liquid velvet. He moaned lightly and rolled his head to one side, pressing his cheek hard into what felt like his own hand. There was another more urgent call, his name.

“Tired,” he muttered, not really sure who he was talking to.

“Tristan!” that voice snapped, sounding angry but laced with a hint of fear.

Alarm shot through him and his head popped up so fast he hit the wall behind him.

“Tristan?” Ash demanded again.

With the help of the wall, he pulled to his feet, groaning and clutching his head. Jesus, his head was killing him. He felt a little more coherent but definitely not ready to fight.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, unable to work his mouth well, “I’m up. I’m fucking up.” He pulled himself along the side wall, dragging his shoulder against the cold stone, not feeling strong enough to stand on his own just yet. When he finally looked up again, stopping several feet from the front bars, his stomach turned.

Lucien smiled broadly. “
Bonsoir
.”

The kid vampire wasn’t wearing much of anything, only a pair of dark jeans, worn at the knees and sitting low on narrow hips, and a bronze colored leather jacket with nothing underneath. The guy was all skin and bones—didn’t mean he couldn’t break Tristan in half with one hand.

“Fuck. Off,” Tristan mumbled half-hearted.

Lucien laughed. “Oh, that’s not very nice, but I do like your
belligerence. Gives me something to look forward to.”

Tristan groaned, struggling to lift his arm. It was cold, stiff and his hand was tingling from having fallen asleep on it. When he finally got his hand up he flicked Lucien off so that the vampire grinned fangs at him.

“An invite?” It wasn’t until Lucien ran his palm over his hairless chin and that Tristan noticed the vampire’s nose. Not only was it all there, but if he hadn’t watched Ash tear it off with her teeth, he’d have never known it happened.

Wonder how many people he had to eat to fix that
…

“What—” Tristan licked his lips. Gross, they tasted like dirt. “...the shit... do you want, Lucien?” My god, he was tired. And dizzy. No, it was more than exhaustion. Sebastian must have given him a concussion. And when was the last time he even ate anything?

Christ, what’s today?

“Christmas,” Lucien answered with a big smile.

The vampire strolled up to Tristan’s cage—
caged
like some exotic animal to be gawked at. His body ached, but the ache in his hands, the need to put them around that skinny throat and squeeze the life from the vampire so much like Desmond had tried to do to him days ago…

“Well,” Lucien corrected with a sarcastic lit, “not quite. We’re still a few hours away from tomorrow, but I get to open my presents early.”

Tristan silently snarled at him, having a good idea of what the vampire meant as his eyes found Ash in the cell next to his.

“Did you get to do that when you were a child? When you still had your mommy and daddy around to buy you things?
Open one special Christmas present the night before?”

Tristan only scowled, eyes filled with hate and anger. There was so much he could have spouted off at Lucien, but right then, he really didn’t have the energy.

“Ah! Wait, where are my manners? I forgot to formally greet you, so,
welcome
to Chateau de Lune Ardente. It’s a lovely place, no? Though the current decorator needs to be eaten, terrible job, don’t you think?”

Raising an eyebrow, Tristan gave him a look that said he was being crazy.

“Really, the accommodations are subpar, I know, but you should have seen it a hundred years ago, it was so beautiful and proud… just like my Master.” Lucien’s solemn expression broke into a big grin that looked forced around the corners. “Can I show you something?”

“Something?” Tristan grunted, eyes automatically
going downward.

The vampire laughed. “Not that… H
mm, but I will share that with you later. Right now there’s this.” Lucien cupped his hands in front of him, pantomiming the shape of a ball. The pressure built in Tristan’s head until he was sure he’d explode and then there was that tightness in his middle and he knew what was about to happen. He’d felt it enough now to recognize the first tingles of a vampire drawing on their powers—their seikonō.

The air between Lucien’s hands started to shimmer and then that
shimmer bled red. Lucien gave a grunt until there was an orb of fire between his palms. It was sloppy and kept trying to slip from his manipulation like oil. Lucien couldn’t hold it and with a pop the little ball of liquid fire evaporated into the air in a puff of black smoke.

Tristan
understood the situation clearly and was smart enough to be scared. “Don’t—”

“Don’t,
what
? Don’t hurt, maim, rape... gorge myself on your delicious blood?” His voice was light with humor, the kind of dark perverse depravity the vampire seemed to thrive on. He laughed. “
Please
. I loved my Master. She was kind and so gentle. The gentlest woman I’ve ever known.

“
However,” he took a step forward and Tristan tensed, though they were nowhere near each other. “Master Malik taught me many...
agreeable
things when he took me in. While I hate him for many reasons, I appreciated and admired his way of things. He was rather brilliant in a sad, desperate, insane sort of way. Hmm, yes and when I’m done indulging in you
both
...” Lucien visibly shuddered, eyes fluttering as his fingers danced along his bottom lip as if he was remembering some long past flavor. “A masterpiece to be sure.”

Tristan let out a long breath, saying, “
Riiight.” He wasn’t really surprised by the little speech. Nor impressed.

“You don’t seem worried enough, Mr. Uruwashi.”

Tristan shrugged. “What do you want from me, I can barely stand?” His words were light but the panic in his head, the thoughts circling around the idea of finding a way out were nearly choking.

Lucien flashed his small fangs in a stupid smile that spoke of darker things. “Nothing, I suppose. Not now anyway. Th
ough, I am happy you’re awake. I can be a bit of a show-off you know? Like that night I came to see Ash at her house. I was so disappointed that neither of you realized that the fire in the fireplace was made by me.”

The vampire
leaned close to the bars, and whispered, “I do like an audience…”

Malik had once said the exact same thing to
Tristan. Tristan took the last few steps towards the bars, reaching out. He must have looked like a toddler trying to walk, stumbling and shuffling like that. His fingers found a bar and he fell against the cool metal, shutting his eyes, the steel rod cool against his cheek. “Whatever, dude,” he mumbled. My god, it was so hard to just keep his eyes open. Guess he didn’t feel all that much better after all.

There was a shuffle in front of him and the pressure of a vampire using their gift tightened his middle. Tristan groaned, liking the feeling as several small pops echoed in the subterranean room. Ash whimpered in the cell next to him, sending a shiver of fear down his spine and he forced his eyes open.
All of the torches lining the corridor were now lit, sending thick smoke to the ceiling as old particles burned off.

That’s when
he saw the cell across from his. The dark obscured the room before but now with it lit up like, well, like a Christmas tree, he saw the true horror of it all. Pressed up against the front bars was a long table. Heavy chains were fixed to each corner and outfitted with wide cuffs. A set of matching chains, spaced evenly for legs and arms, were fixed to the back wall. Dark brown stains splashed floor to ceiling, and he imagined even on the ceiling. Someone bled there, to death probably. A tiny part of him wondered—hoped—it had been Sebastian.

Lucien looked up from the table he was working at on the side wall in that cell, catching Tristan’s eye, and smiled. It was a coy, “I know something you don’t know” type smile. Tristan swallowed hard and looked to what he had in his hands—a foot long knife he was cleaning with a br
own cloth. Behind Lucien, on a shorter, smaller table perpendicular to the other, was a whole rainbow of nasty looking, dangerous items; knives, barbs, whips and things he didn’t even know the name of, had never seen before.

He let out a shaky, uneasy breath and asked, “What... what are you doing?”

Lucien smiled that sly smile again and placed the knife down on the larger table. “We are going to play now, just like Malik showed me.”

“
We
?”

Lucien
turned pale brown eyes, alight by torch fire, to Ash and grinned. “Yes.” The vampire practically moaned as he slipped his jacket off and pushed into motion, exchanging the leather for an item from the table and gliding out of the cell with it held behind his back.

Tristan’s nervous pulse made it hard for him to breathe. “No,” he whispered. When he reached the corner, falling into it, he flung his arm out, reaching for Luci
en and not even coming close. Finding a surge of energy, he growled, “Leave her alone.”

Lucien laughed, not taking his gaze from Ash and fished a long key from his pocket.

Ash started at the sound of the door opening, back pressed into the far corner of her cell. She knew what was to come and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “I am not afraid of you,” she said in a voice that didn’t quiver.

Lucien laughed at her
. “Really?”

“You are just a boy, a mere imitation of a man you only wished you were. You could never possibly hurt me. You are nothing but a
fucking
child. You are lacking, transmute vampire.”

Tristan smiled, loving everything about her in that moment. Her fire,
her mouth and knowing that he affected her far more than she’d admit.

“You think so?” The boy vampire harrumphed.
“I spent a lot of time with Malik before I went to Yuki… Do you remember this?” he asked, pausing at the door before opening it as he showed off what he’d been hiding at his back.

“By the Goddess…,”
Ash whispered, words full of terror.

“Mhm,” Lucien hummed as he waved the object around in the air before him. It didn’t look like much of anything at all, a metal eggplant on a stick with an ornate cap. “Malik told me this was a big part of your initiation and
I thought it fitting to be part of your death. And it doesn’t require any skill at all to use.”

Ash whimpered, unable to find the words to fight back as she pressed herself into the corner and cried. She was frozen with fear. Tristan wasn’t sure what the object was only that it terrified Ash and therefore him.

“The Pear of Anguish,” Lucien said nearly salivating, eyes flicking to Tristan. “Shall I demonstrate it for you?” He twisted the end cap so that the pear leaves opened a few centimeters.

Tristan licked his lips, unsure of the right answer. Obviously, it was no.
Fuck no.
But that might have just urged Lucien even more to go through with whatever he’d had in mind. Was there really anything to say to keep the vampire from using that on either of them?

Lucien gave Tristan one last dirty smirk and then he darted into Ash’s cell. She was still crying but her instincts to protect herself kicked in and she punched the boy vampire in the face. Despite the impact of two fast moving objects colliding, the hit didn’t even slow Lucien down as he checked her into the wall.