Bete Noire

by Christina Moore

  “Shannon,” Audric snapped the fledgling vampire’s name as if he were scolding a child.

  Shannon, a.k.a. Grey Slacks, gave a small sob and backed away on three limbs, a hand holding his bleeding neck. Nadine had stopped crying, her face stained in red from her tears. She was cradling her useless left arm against the front of her body as she shuffled across the room to her Master, bleeding and whimpering almost inaudibly. Ash stood by, looking deadly and angry as shit, eyes narrowed at Theron still on top of Tristan.

  “Look, kid, I can shoot you or you can move. You saw what this did to your little girlfriend there,” Tristan said waving the gun. “Your choice.”

  Theron gave a growl, but released him and backed up. Tristan let out a soft sigh, happy to have his personal space again and stood. He stretched his neck, making it crack and looked to Ash. “You ready to go?”

  She marched over to him, still keeping a keen sense out for the others, and slipped her fingers with his. “Yes.”

  Tristan had to suppress a shudder at the sticky mess of the hand pressed to his.

  “Very well,” Audric said, feigning indifference, “I shall not keep you. Nadine was punished for her indiscretion and I will take no actions against you for it. Good luck in your hunt, Ash of Earth.”

  “Merci, Audric of wind. Your kindness will not be forgotten,” Ash said with a small bow, body stiff. Her words were heavy, biting as if she was saying “fuck you too.”

  The pair turned to leave but stopped short when they were met by a couple standing in the doorway, blocking their way to freedom. Both vampires were dressed in fitted armor, like medieval times armor, yet it was well cared for, shiny and clean. Tristan wondered how the two snuck up on them wearing that.

  The man was tall, white hair and gray eyes, and carried a regal, I’m-better-than-you air. A Master vampire without a doubt. But the woman, she looked as human as the other fledglings. She was short with a mane of thick blonde waves and piercing eyes, one light brown, the other a cool green, fixed intensely on Tristan. She looked human, but felt… old. By all rights, this was a fledgling vampire, but the fact that Tristan felt anything at all from her, said she wasn’t. She was different from the others, he just didn’t know how.

  Next to him, Ash made a little noise of surprise, their eyes meeting for a moment. She felt it too, the wrongness of this woman. She didn’t know what she was either. Determined to leave, Tristan pressed forward, pulling on Ash’s hand. The couple blocking the way refused to let them by as they took in the room, the bloody mess. It was the woman who stepped into Tristan, giving him a whiff of sweet designer perfume and the glare of angry mismatched eyes.

  “Balian. Katrina,” Audric snapped. He sighed and softened his tone. “Allow them to pass.”

  The man gave them a cold, hard look, but stepped aside as his Master bade. The woman, Katrina, however, didn’t move. She was sizing Tristan up, taking in the blood on his clothing, or perhaps she knew what he was. Either way, he didn’t give a shit, he just wanted to leave. He tried to push by and Katrina moved closer, blocking his path completely. He stopped, Ash lingering just behind him, her hand in his, and met Katrina’s eyes.

  Tristan’s fingers tightened on the gun, reassuring him that he was still holding it. “You mind?”

  “This one,” Katrina whispered and dropped her helmet to the stone floor with a loud clatter.

  Tristan let go of Ash’s hand, tensing. He wasn’t sure what the girl meant, but was certain he wasn’t going to like it. Then, confirming his anxiety, Katrina drew back her lips and showed him two tiny, pointy canines in a nasty grimace. Her face filled with rage, the kind of rage born of true hatred for a person, for person who has wronged them. But what did he do to her? Surely she wasn’t a loving follower of Malik’s. Only his men followed him blindly, thinking he was some sort of God. No, this was something more, something deeper and meaningful.

  “Uruwashi!” she screamed and dove.

  Oh. That’d do it.

  12: Furious Angels

  TRISTAN!” Ash cried out as Katrina’s armor clad body slammed into the front of Tristan’s with the force of a sledgehammer to the chest. He toppled, backpedaling, but couldn’t keep his ground. The pair fell over in chorus of metal and moans, pinning Tristan between steel vampire and cold stone.

  He met Katrina’s hate filled eyes and wondered for a brief moment why she harbored such disdain for him. How did she even know of the Uruwashi? She’d only been undead for less than three years—how he knew that though, he wasn’t sure. And yet, something about that didn’t seem quite right either. She felt very wrong. The vampire in her felt older somehow, even though she was very clearly a fledgling. Tristan pushed against her breastplate, happy to find she couldn’t reach him with her fangs. The armor, while providing her protection from fists, or stakes, kept her neck from being able to bend completely forward. She was limited to the mobility of that which protected her.

  Behind him, Ash screamed, “No!” as Balian scooped her up in his arms, lifting her from the ground and immobilized her in his strong hold. They may have both been Masters, but besides being taller, larger and older than her, Balian fed and flexed his powers often. He was a true Master. Ash slumped in his arms knowing there was no getting free in her current condition. She couldn’t help. It was up to Tristan now to save himself. Perhaps that was why Audric hadn’t stopped Katrina yet.

  Bastard.

  Tristan groaned under Katrina’s iron-clad weight. When he caught her eye, a wicked grin filled his face. She gave a small start, for just a moment, reading the cold look. “Listen, sweetheart,” he said through clenched teeth. “We have two options here.”

  She leaned in a little closer and grinned, thinking this was a game they were on. “And what are they, honey?” she mocked.

  Hmm, interesting, a slight West Virginian accent…

  “I shoot you.” He wiggled the gun to show he still had it. Too bad he couldn’t use it at the angle she held his arm. “Or you get the fuck off!”

  She laughed so hard her grip faltered and he didn’t waste the opportunity. He gave a deep groan and pushed with both hands, the gun held securely in his grip. Katrina made a surprised noise when he lifted her, but it wasn’t enough. She grinned again, realizing he couldn’t move her heavier body, laden by the armor, from his own. Tristan groaned, locking his elbows out and she reached for him. Before she could touch him with her faster reflexes, he wedged both feet under her and shoved, lifting the iron vampire. Katrina’s body flew off as he imaged it would, flying a few short feet through the air. What he didn’t expect was for her to land squarely on her hands and feet.

  He scrambled awkwardly to his feet. “Jesus Christ, lady. Were you a cat in a past life or something?”

  She moved far too fluidly for that big heavy suit and young age. She shifted her crouch to put her weight on her feet as she grinned up at him. “Noooo. Not a cat...” She advanced again, hands out in front of her as much as the armor would allow.

  Tristan made an angry noise, close to a growl and raised the gun. Without second thought, he pulled off two shots. They bit into the armor, but didn’t slow her advance one second. He cursed under his breath and glanced down, searching for what he thought was near his feet. Feeling a surge of small triumph, he kicked out and sent her dropped helmet across the room towards her.

  “Shithead!” she yelled, swatting at the helmet.

  Using the distraction, he bolted forward and kicked out, aiming to take her in the chest. His foot made contact and the pain of bone stopped by hard metal vibrated up his leg through his body, made his teeth ache. He groaned, toppling back, favoring the sore leg.

  Katrina fell silent, blinking in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter. “You fucking idiot! Did you really think that’d work? God, you’re so stupid.”

  “So glad I can amuse you,” he mumbled, stepping back. Dammit that hurt. Good thing he didn’t try it with his left, who knows what his once broken leg would have done in
protest. The break may have healed fast, but it still ached some days. Suddenly he felt movement at his back, the burn of a vampire moving closer and he just reacted. He spun, arm straight out, aiming the gun. Theron was on the other end, looking startled.

  Tristan nodded with a dark smile. “That’s right, be a good little vampire and back off.”

  The frightened fledgling grinned, looking smug. His eyes flicked behind Tristan a second before he heard the sound of metal on stone and strong arms enclosed him from behind. They wrapped under his arms and pulled his back against a hard chest.

  “God dammit!” he hissed through gritted teeth.

  Theron grinned a disgusting look and dove at Tristan, mouth gaping open. The fledgling vampire was more clumsy than lithe and he fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around Tristan, grabbing onto Tristan’s ass to catch himself. Tristan jerked his knee up just in time to catch the vampire under the chin, keeping from getting fangs buried deep into his abdomen. Theron growled, his head rocking back under the blow and let go as the momentum forced him backwards.

  Katrina’s hold, while strong, left Tristan’s arms free. Good for him, bad for Theron. At his limit and just acting on instincts now, he lifted the gun and fired. He saw the fear in Theron’s dark eyes seconds before the .45 ripped through his head. Like a firecracker in a watermelon, the bullet destroyed him. A brown eye was gone in an instant, exploded out the back of his head through a hole the size of his fist. Eye, brains, skull, all gone in a spray of blood and bone fragments. Theron’s body gave one last long breath out and crumpled to the ground in a puddle of his own brain matter and blood.

  Tristan stared in awe. He just shot that twitchy kid. He killed Theron. And for what?

  Katrina’s shocked gasp filled his ear and a scream sounded from across the room. In his daze, it took Tristan two timeless blinks to find the source of the cry. It was Nadine, running for him with her ruined arm held to her chest. Seeing the anger in her eyes, the fangs bared in feral hate, he woke fully from his daze. He’d have plenty of time later to be worried about what he just did, for now he had to get out of this in one piece.

  “I’m getting tired of all of the bullshit!” He groaned, pushing back with all he had. Katrina slipped and fell backwards, taking them to the floor. Her hold on his shoulders was knocked free when they clamored to the ground.

  Tristan rolled away, landing on his stomach. He’d just pull his hands and knees under him when a weight fell onto his back, wrenching his throat into the crook of an elbow. After that little dog pile earlier, he knew exactly who it was on him. Still, he had to look. He still doubted the part of him he knew nothing about.

  He gained his feet quickly and turned his head to look at Nadine with her mouth gaped open and ready to bite. He backpedaled fast and slammed into the wall. Nadine grunted under him and he lifted the gun. Unsure how to even threaten her at this angle, he did the only thing he could think of. He reached over his left shoulder and shoved the barrel of the gun right in her mouth. A whimper slipped out around the metal, the fear in her wide eyes igniting something greedy and dark in Tristan.

  “Bang,” he whispered.

  She recoiled, and fell still, blinking in shock. He should have shot her, ended it right there, but the thought of another senseless death on his hands was more than he could bear. He wasn’t that person, one who could kill indiscriminately and live with it. He wasn’t a sociopath.

  All around, the room broke out into a torrent of noise. Tristan tensed, ready to strike out, to blow Nadine’s head off if he had to but he couldn’t look away.

  Tristan’s finger on the trigger flexed but he was stopped from squeezing down by a sudden strong gust, a wind as strong as a hurricane that swept through the room and snuffed out all of the torches. The fire in the hearth flickered angrily, but in the end won out, holding against the gale. Tristan pushed the hair from his eyes and looked up to find Katrina writhing in Audric’s grip, tucked neatly under one arm as if she wasn’t wearing a full set of armor. The angry woman flung curses around like a drunken sailor, most in English, some in French. Audric sighed wearily and forced out a pained smile when he met Tristan’s eyes. His clear eyes betrayed his piercing anger. Master was not happy.

  “Nadine,” the ancient Master said, voice soft and even, “you will remove yourself from that man now.” He couldn’t have said “man” any more sarcastically.

  She whimpered, tightening her grip on Tristan. Audric saw this and turned those clear eyes to last person he wanted anything to do with. “Uruwashi?” he said.

  “Yeah, the fuck you want?” Tristan was panting with exhaustion and confused, but at least he still managed to be reliably belligerent. Ash almost smirked at his gall.

  “I must admit, despite my… longstanding dislike of your kind, you impress me. You have not been bitten and yet you managed to fend off three attacking vampires. I have to admire your will and decent, yet rather, crude instincts.”

  Despite his need to watch the vampire inches from his neck, Tristan couldn’t help himself as he shot Ash, still dangling in Bailan’s arms, a nasty look. Him being a virgin was their secret, Ash’s and his. “Tell her to get off,” Tristan said, meaning Nadine.

  The Master vampire lowered his head, the look in his eyes was sinister and damn deadly. “Make her.”

  Tristan’s smile matched the darkness in his deep blue eyes. “My fucking pleasure.”

  There was a cry of desperation, answered by a growl from Ash. A tussle sounded from across the room, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away from Nadine again. He couldn’t risk her striking. Despite being pinned, she reacted to whatever was happening with a gasp around the barrel shoved throat deep into her mouth and started to buck, pushing franticly for him to move. She wasn’t nearly strong enough to knock him over with only one working arm, but he got the idea. She was tossing up the white flag, she wanted off the Uruwashi Death Train.

  Against his better judgment, against the burning need to shoot her, he jumped away from Nadine, releasing her. The fledgling woman staggered, her eyes fixed on the others across the room as another growl sounded followed by a surprised gasp of pain.

  Nadine staggered forward, wobbling to a stop, eyes wide in disbelief. “No.”

  Tristan took another big step back from Nadine, gun pointed in her general direction for good measure, and looked up to see what happened those few seconds. Ash had gotten free of Balian and had ahold of Shannon. One hand was wrenching his neck up high, choking him. But that didn’t matter since there was no more breathing for the fledgling vampire. Her other hand was plunged forearm deep into his chest, blood flowing in a steady stream.

  Shannon’s dark eyes were wide with utter shock, and sorrow. He struggled weakly in Ash’s hold until his gaze found Nadine. His expression softened and he gave her a sad smile as if to say sorry. Through blood filling his mouth, he whispered softly in French that he loved her and would see her again. He blinked at her once, smiling affectionately and then sagged in Ash’s hold.

  Nadine burst into tears, slumping to the floor. Ash yanked her hand free of his chest cavity and lowered him slowly to the ground with only the hand on his neck, proving her immense strength. She spun towards Tristan looking angry, proud and aroused in a way he’d never seen before. She enjoyed that little kill. Marching sassily across the room, she made a show of licking her fingers clean one by one. Tristan wasn’t sure if he could ever look at Ash again the same after that. She heard the thought and her pace faltered for but a second.

  “Well?” Tristan rasped out, trying to sound more confident than he felt in that moment. “Do we need to kill them all?”

  Ash came to him and slipped under his arm, cuddling his side like nothing happened. Like they hadn’t just killed two vampires. Two people. Shit, he really felt guilty.

  “We are all murders,” Ash said and looked up into his eyes. “There is no reason to fret their insignificant loss.”

  She was being cruel on purpose. But there was no ti
me to even wonder why. There was an angry noise, the crack of a whip, the click of a movie clapboard, the fire of a start gun and the room broke out into a fury again. Katrina flayed in Audric’s hold like a grounded fish, bucking and cursing wildly. Balian, who was silent through all of the previous events, was suddenly gone from his space next to his Master and was standing before Ash and Tristan. He never felt her move, but Ash was moving forward, reaching for Balian. Nadine growled and was on her knees, reaching for Tristan.

  “Oh shit,” Tristan hissed when he saw her and jerked back.

  “Enough!” Audric bellowed out.

  Tristan swore he heard the rumble of deep thunder trail at the end of the word. The room froze, everyone stopped mid-motion. Nadine had advanced forward enough to grab ahold of his forearm. Balian and Ash were less than an inch from each other’s throats—fangs, not hands. Katrina hung limp in Audric’s arm, blinking in surprise at Tristan as if he was the one who yelled.

  And when the Master of the House, the man with the silver eyes looked to Tristan, he felt an overwhelming urge to shoot him. That ancient vampire was the real danger and he knew it all along. Tristan’s hand was moving up to point the gun towards the man, controlled by an invisible specter.

  “Do not make me repeat myself, hunter of my kind.” Audric held his free hand out and a small spark of bright silver electricity arced across his palm. “Or must I summon my pet to make my point clear?”

  Tristan’s stomach clenched realizing now just how dangerous the Master really was. It was only the loose idea of morals that kept the vampire in check. Tristan lowered the gun and stepped back, jerking his arm away from Nadine. Even without the visual and the cold, hard look on Audric’s face, he knew what his answer was. “No, we’re good.”

  “Very well.” Audric sighed, looking down to the angry vampire in his grip. Katrina was going wild again, like a seizure patient, trying to free herself from the ancient Master. He spoke to her in French but everyone in the room felt it.