Moon Child (19 page)
“Wait, should I feed you?” Mamoru asked, sounding panicked.
“Yew need yur energy more than us.” Desmond slipped slowly down into the water and took a deep mental breath of it. Water was his home, his very being. He controlled it wholly and wished he were feeling more up to calling umibozu out to play but he had a serious job to do first, keep Tristan alive.
Opening his eyes, Desmond sent out his awareness into the water, establishing a connection with it. That he was bleeding was in his favor, strengthening his bond. With little to no thought he gathered up all the air bubbles in the vicinity and fixed them into a big fish bowl over Tristan’s and Mamoru’s heads. The Japanese man nodded his appreciation and with Ash’s help they swam down behind Desmond with Tristan between them.
Ten feet down was already pitch black and Mamoru felt the weight of his decision to trust someone like Desmond. The vampire proved to be loyal to his word though, safely guiding them through the outstretched arms of a curious mermaid clan as they clambered for a look, perhaps even a tiny taste, of a true Uruwashi. Mamoru’s blood pounded in his head so fiercely that he knew he’d have a headache for the rest of the night. The stress alone of trusting Desmond to not leave them in the dark under the crushing weight of the ocean, to the hands of the savages of the deep was enough to leave his head feeling less than satisfactory. The air in his bubble was turning sour but then they were already there.
Mamoru broke the surface and sucked in a gasp of clean, crisp ocean air. It was salty as hell but damn it felt good after the suffocating nightmare that his bubble could have been. He didn’t know Tristan well, or at all really, but was happy the man wasn’t awake to experience something so awful. It was a memory neither of them needed.
“Are you okay?” Ash asked, oblivious to the other man’s thoughts.
Mamoru spit out a mouthful of water. “I’ll live.”
She hoped Tristan would too.
“Oi!”
The others snapped around to look up at Desmond. He was using his gifts to their fullest, or just showing off, as he stood on top of the water looking like Jesus—if the man were undead and Scottish anyway.
“Give us the boy, I’ll no have him dying ‘nd forfeit me baws.” He put on a big stupid smile. “Me new fish wife micht object.” Shaking with laughter, Desmond went to Ash.
She didn’t even argue, shoving Tristan into Desmond’s arms when he knelt to a knee in front of her. The vampire hefted the American into a fireman’s hold and then started to run. They were nearly seven hundred meters out. The sky to the north glowed from the small city below but the coastal mountains all but hid their source. With a tired sigh, Ash started to swim after Desmond, towards the lights of civilization.
“Ash?” Mamoru breathed out, swimming being more of an exertion for him than her.
“I see them,” she said in a low, cautious tone. The water carried sound all too easily and even with her vampiric sight, they were still too far away for her to identify more than knowing that there were two people on beach, one rather short, the other uncomfortably tall. “Is that—”
“Chrysanthe and Silas? I think so.”
She snuck a little glance at the man, the quiver in his voice making her uneasy. “Are they foe?”
They exchanged a glance, and then Ash’s attention went back to the shore. Desmond was just setting Tristan down. The others rushed over to join them.
“Can’t say for sure. All I know is that Chrysanthe tried to kill me and I don’t think she is working under her own motives. The elf hasn’t hurt neither Tristan nor myself.”
“Hurry,” she all but shouted.
By the time they reached the shore, the others had already wrapped Tristan up in a thick wool blanket, shoved a cap on his head, and were trying to position him upright to pour a vile of dark liquid into him. Ash rushed them, smacking the pythia’s hand and effectively pushing Desmond away as she wrapped herself around Tristan’s still form.
“Asta!” Desmond begrudged her but didn’t try hard to push his way into the situation again.
“What is your intention,
witch
?” Ash snapped, eyes fixed on the two newcomers. Mamoru finally pulled himself free of the freezing ocean and ambled over, the long ornate knife coming out. He went to stand at Ash’s side in a show of comradery.
The pythia looked only mildly annoyed under her fear. “Oh dear, trying to keep him alive.”
“Why?”
Chrysanthe shot Silas at her back a look and then huffed at the others. “Because it’s what I’m being paid to do.”
Ash mentally cursed that she couldn’t read the woman’s mind and looked to Mamoru for guidance, knowing he could. The man relaxed his stance and shrugged telling her that the woman spoke the truth but he couldn’t read more than that.
Desmond harrumphed, pouting to himself that Ash hadn’t bothered checking with him. He could hear much more clearly than some stupid Uruwashi.
“If you harm him in any way, I will kill you both,” Ash warned.
Chrysanthe dropped to her knees in the wet sand with a grunt unbefitting her and reached out with the potion again. “Oh dear,” she grumbled under her breath but meaning for Ash to hear, “I did say I meant to save him.”
Ash swallowed hard as Chrysanthe put the vile to Tristan’s lips. At the last moment Ash snatched it from her and dipped her finger into the liquid and took a sniff before tasting. It smelled strongly of spirits, rosemary and valerian. The tang of blood hit her like a slap to the face and her hunger roared to life. Her eyes rolled up and fixed on the pythia, an excellent source of food if any.
Frightened of the look in Ash’s eyes, Chrysanthe stumbled back to fall on her ass. Silas came to her rescue, scooping her up and drawing her back.
“Please,” Chrysanthe pleaded through dry lips, “he’s fading. We need to get him warm quickly. I’ve a room in the city with a hot bath ready, if you’ll just—”
“Who are you working for?”
The pythia’s eyes were wide in fear. Ash was equally afraid, but she could also feel Tristan’s heartbeat under her hand. He had a minute or two for them to get to the bottom of it all.
Off to the side, nearly forgotten, Desmond shuffled his feet through the sand to reach the edge of the water, looking causal with his hands in his pockets. Mamoru moaned when the first tendrils of Desmond’s power licked his psyche, ignited his baser urges. The incoming waves sizzling on the sand didn’t go past Silas’s notice.
“Tell me now!”
Chrysanthe flinched back at Ash’s barked command, bumping into Silas. “Oh dear, and will you allow him to die if I don’t?”
Ash stared at her for a heartbeat and then let out a harsh noise through her fangs. She cursed at the small woman in Greek—a true curse, that if it were followed up with a splash of another pythia’s blood on the woman’s skin would become deadly—and poured the contents of the vile into Tristan’s mouth.
“Tristan?” she whispered. “Can you hear me?” She pressed her lips to his temple. “I need you to swallow, my love. Can you do that for me? It will make you warm again.” A quick glance at the shaking pythia and a nod on her part confirmed Ash’s professional guess at the spell. Light coaxing over his Adam’s apple made Tristan finally swallow.
A violent shudder overtook him and then his eyes fluttered open. He blinked at Ash in a blank stare for a moment and then his brow furrowed deeply. “I’m cold.”
She smiled softly, ignoring Desmond’s annoyed huff. “I know. Come, let us get you warm.”
The blanket moved as Tristan’s hands shuffled around, trying to reach out of the wool for Ash. When he couldn’t, he gave up and smiled coyly up at Ash though he meant the look to be charming and saucy. “You gonna warm me?”
She smiled big and answered, “Oh yes.”
AM I wearing clothes in the bath?” Tristan asked, his words slurring into each other and making him nearly unintelligible. His head was heavy and bobbling all over the place as he tried to focus on the person over him.
Standing with her arms crossed below her chest, Ash looked angry when in fact she was overwhelmingly relieved. “How are you?”
Feeling the confusion leak away, Tristan looked down, taking in his situation. He was wearing the same clothes he got buried in, all intact and how he left them before he lost consciousness except they were soaking wet. All four limbs were hanging out of the water and nearly dry, as well as his hair under a thick winter cap. “Wet.”
Ash chuckled and lowered to her knees, resting her chin on her forearms across the tub edge. “Let me see your arm.”
Tristan raised his arm and only just then noticed the thick bandage on it. It felt sticky and heavy to him. That’s right, the tiger bit him, he nearly forgot about it since the cold water made him stop bleeding and numbed the pain.
Silent, Ash undid the dressing and examined his forearm.
“Wow,” was all he said.
Ash smiled. “Not even a scar.”
“You didn’t do that, did you?”
There was only two ways Tristan knew of how to heal that well and they both involved blood of some kind.
“Does it hurt?”
Tristan moved it and shook his head. “Fine.
“You can put your arms and legs in now, if you would like. They had to stay out until your overall temp rose again to prevent—to keep you safe.”
Tristan considered her a moment and then sighed, pulling his arms in water. He hissed through his teeth when tiny hot bursts of pain lit from elbow to fingertip. “Do you mind?” he asked, wiggling his feet.
Without a word or even a tiny hesitation, Ash scooted down to pull off Tristan’s shoes and then his socks. He was considering whether to do the quick dunk or a slow ascent into pain when Ash took his right foot into her hand. She smiled up at him as she started to massage his foot, slowly lowering it into the water. He winced at the pain, an eye squeezed shut and a hiss slipping from his lips, but Ash’s strong, sure fingers helped abate the stinging.
“How’s your hand?” he asked, eyes flicking to her right wrist. The skin showed signs of scaring that he guessed would go away as she finished healing.
“Fine. It works just as it should.” And the pain had all but vanished with the second feeding she received from Mamoru just twenty minutes ago. It was an interesting feeding, packed full of information Ash should have known. Boy, was she going to have an interesting conversation with Yukihime when she saw her again.
“Good,” he answered softly. “That’s good…”
“Listen, Ash—”, “Tristan, I—” they both said over each other and then stopped. After a moment’s hesitation, Tristan nodded. “You first.”
She gave him a tiny smile, lips pressed into a straight line. “We need to talk.”
Tristan laughed and then moaned. His head hurt, and his chest. Hell, his whole body ached with the truth of his near death by freezing. “No shit we need to talk.” He shut his eyes and sighed, resting his head back. “Now’s probably not the time though…” Was it ever?
“No, it is.”
The firmness, the determination in Ash’s voice pulled his attention to her again. There was a fire in her eyes. “What’s changed?” Tristan asked, confused and not sure he was reading the situation right.
Ash stood and lifted a leg over the edge of the tub. Tristan eyes widened when he realized she was climbing into the tub with him. It wasn’t exactly built for two and Tristan wasn’t exactly a small person, so it was a tight fit. “Everything,” she whispered and stopped, hovering over him, her knees pressed against his hips to either side.
“You offering to warm me up again?”
She smiled naughtily and leaned down to put her face just inches from his. Her hesitation made Tristan frown until he realized that it was up to him to close the space between them. She was seeking his validation that everything was okay.
He smiled, slipping his hands up her back, tangling his fingers into her wet hair. After a quick check to make sure that his cheek was no longer cut on the inside, Tristan parted his lips ever so slightly and let a breath out that Ash took in as their lips met. Ash immediately sunk into his embrace, gentle and finally warm, pushing her fingers into the tangled mess of his salty, mused hair under the cap.
“Mmm,” he moaned when she pulled back. He licked his lips and met her eyes. “I needed that.”
“I know what else you need…”
Thinking he knew what she was saying, he grinned big. What better time to feel alive than after cheating death, yet again?
Ash stopped shifting around and looked at him, sighed and shifted again to stand over him. “Not that… well, perhaps later,” she amended, flushing. She stumbled as she sloshed her way out of the tub. “I um, when we are done with our current troubles, I was hoping we could return to my old home. There is a book there I hope to find.”
“A book?” he asked surprised. “Really?”
Ash turned to face him, dripping a big puddle onto the bathroom floor. That’s when Tristan realized that they were back at their room. “How did we get back here?”
“We drove back, it was a short trip.”
Uneasy, Tristan sat up a little. The water was cooler than he would have liked but he wasn’t ready to get out yet. He was still cold and considered how much trouble it would be to fill the tub again with hot water. “What happened after I passed out?”
“Desmond returned and guided us out of the cave and to the surface.”
“What took him so long to get back?”
Ash frowned, stifled a little shutter. “Mermaids.”
“No shit,” he said simply. One of those mysterious heikō. Mamoru hadn’t said much about them but their mere mention. Guess neither of them expected to cross one anytime soon. Tristan was looking forward to reading Mamoru’s journals on the seven races of shinwa and heikō when the group was done here.
“Chrysanthe and Silas were waiting for us on the shore.”
Tristan thrashed in the tub, trying to sit up in a rush of panic. “Ash, they’re—”
“I know. Mamoru told me everything on the way here. Do not worry so, Desmond and Mamoru are with them now.”
Tristan looked to the closed bathroom door as if he meant to see beyond it. “They’re here?”
“Yes. And I fully intend to get to the bottom of them, but before that we need to talk.”
“Ash,” Tristan sighed. “Now’s really not—”
“Please. Tristan, I cannot—I need this.”
He took in a deep breath and held it a moment, studying her weary expression. Letting out his breath in a long sigh, he nodded.
Ash visibly relaxed and motioned to the tub. “Is the water too cold?”
He shrugged, tugging at his almost too tight jeans. He’d really like to get out of them. “I could stand it to be a tad warmer.”
Ash took in a deep breath, opening her mouth as if winding up to call out but the bathroom door opened before she could. Desmond marched in, looking grim and stiff. His hair was matted and messy and he still looked a little rough with his shirt missing and his shorts ripped near the hip.
Ash refused to leave Tristan’s side for even a moment, but she did get a chance to talk privately to Desmond while the American was still passed out. She had to know if Desmond fed his blood to Tristan or not. She suspected he hadn’t but needed to hear the words. The conversation quickly turned into an argument fueled by Desmond’s jealousy that left the Scotsman pouting about it since. But Ash was satisfied that Tristan hadn’t been compromised.
Desmond glanced darkly at Ash under the hair fallen into his face, handing her a knife and then marched over to the edge of the tub. Tristan shifted, trying to be ready for whatever was about to happen and then gave a little noise of amazement as the big vampire plunged his hand into the water and it instantly heated up to a comfortable, toasty one-hundred eight degrees. With a grunt and a look of what Tristan could only read as discontent, the vampire left, shutting the door behind him.
“Okay…,” Tristan breathed out and slumped. God, the water felt almost good.
“Never mind him.”
Tristan smirked. “Never really do.”
Ash harrumphed. “Here, let me help you.”
He was confused for a sheer moment between her words and then Ash was tugging at his wet clothes. “Yes,” he groaned. His whole body hurt but with that pain came the delicious truth that he was still alive. He didn’t need to be told, or lied to, to know that he was close to dying in that frigid water. “Fuck, it’s good to be alive.”
Ash’s mouth hardened and she lifted the knife towards Tristan.
“Hey, wait a minute.”
Ash gave him a sour look. “You will not be able to pull your pants off, the jean has shrunk and are cutting off your circulation. This is the only way. Deal with it.”
God, always calling him out. He smiled to himself because somewhere inside, he liked it. She could be bossy when it mattered and it worked out in Tristan’s favor, usually. “Fine,” he said, giving up on the idea of saving his jeans. He could buy more, whatever.
Ash nodded and proceeded to cut the shrinking pants free. She moved precisely and quickly. Tristan let out a sigh as the pants, and boxers, came free, not realizing how tight they’d really been. “Thanks,” he said, slipping back down into the water.
She sat on the floor next to the tub so that her head showed just above the rim, but she wouldn’t look into Tristan’s face. Ash sighed, resting her cheek on the side of the tub. “Yukihime came to our room in France after we dispatched Lucien.”
Tristan stiffened, looking up to meet her eyes.
“She returned most of my memories.”
Tristan sat back in the water, resting his arms across the top of the tub and sighed.
Ash tilted her head to the side, considering Tristan. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He didn’t sound angry at all, and really, he wasn’t right then. After all that Mamoru had told him about the vampires, about Ash, the things he saw from Desmond, he understood his vampire lover so much more now than he thought he ever would. He was grateful to that knowledge even if it left with him a pervasive sense of sadness.
She looked away to rest her chin on her pulled up knees. “I wanted to tell you before, but I was so afraid. I could not risk losing you. But now I understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That I was wrong. That you would not look at me with hate, disgust, fear… That you truly love me for me.”
“I really do,” he whispered, staring up at the ceiling. “I’ve been saying that all this time.”
“Yes, you have. But fear, it makes even the strongest of us weak. The things I remember now… She did not return all of my memories, that much I can tell, but it was enough. I nearly bolted rather than accepted the way of things.”
He understood, she wasn’t doing it out of malice or even a sense of sadism, but because of fear. Of any emotion, Tristan understood fear. He lived it every day, the possibility of “what if”.
“Tristan, I knew who and what you were the night I first came for you. I knew you were the Uruwashi and that your destiny was linked with mine. I knew that I, we were meant to love each other.”
“What?” he asked, carefully sitting up and looking over the edge and down at her.
She shook her head, refusing to look up. “The fruition of the prophecy hanging over your head, that fate is tied to my loving you.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. I can’t accept that. I can’t accept that I love you all because it was fated. That’s fucking stupid. I’m of my own mind and make my own decisions.”
Ash lifted her head and smiled. “Perhaps so, but it has still come to pass. When I remembered again, I had nearly left because I had already fallen for you. I think I loved you from the start. I had watched you for a long time Tristan, I know you better than you think.”
“Wait, you were watching me?”
She pivoted on her knees, turning to face him. “I was trying to keep Malik from killing you. I nearly had lost you too just nights before I made myself known to you… There was a vampire waiting for you in your apartment. You, being you, came home utterly intoxicated and I had only just managed to arrive on time to kill the beast. After that, I knew I had to fully intervene. That things had become serious.”
“Why? Why risk everything for me? Is my prophecy really that important?”
“If Lilith says it is so, yes.”
“So… simple English here, I was an Uruwashicicle half an hour ago. My brain’s still trying to defrost.”
“I knew about you and your fate. I rescued you because I believed in you and your place in our world. I also knew that I had feelings for you before I had ever even spoken a word to you. Yukihime saw this as a weakness as I am more want to turn from love rather than embrace it. She forced me to get to know you even more than I would have allowed if I had remembered you. And then, in France, when I was on the verge of walking away from it all, she showed me what I needed to see yet again. Or rather, what she thought I needed to.”
