Silas made a noise but dipped his head to hide his face deep in his hoodie before the others could see his cheeks turn red at the thought that he had firsthand knowledge of the nature of her “knickers”. Or lack thereof.
Tristan jerked to a stop and blinked up at her. “Wow. Okay…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Whatever the pythia did to him, gave to him while he’d been passed out those few hours seemed to help with the pain in his head a lot. But it didn’t help mask his growing exhaustion as they were encroaching on his normal sleeping hours. It was still fairly early into his normal sleep time, but any longer and he was going to start feeling some serious lag. You know, with a concussion on top of that. At least his feet didn’t hurt anymore and the nice new boots they’d given him were heaven.
“I’m just trying to understand what’s happening,” Tristan said.
“Finding that man.”
He sighed again. That’s all she kept saying ever since he agreed to help. After a quick shower and a check over from the pythia on his quickly healing wounds, the group set out in Tristan’s rental car. A ten minute trip took them to the other side of the coast directly west into Vathi and from there another few minutes into Gytheio. He questioned her over and over again about where they were going, but all she’d say was “Finding that man”.
He wanted to grab her and shake the shit out of her. Maybe all pythia were vague but he couldn’t help but hold deep reservations. He was never really the quick-to-trust type and his recent interactions with Yuki had made him even more sensitive than before. So why hadn’t he just told the couple to go fuck themselves already? Something inside him was telling him to stick with them and see how things played out. Maybe there was a such thing as fate after all?
“Look. You’ve got to give me something here or I’m walking. I have to find my girlfriend before—”
“Girlfriend!” Chrysanthe gave a chirpy little laugh. “Good heavens, how marvelous. I should have guessed, well I did guess. Such a thing, an Uruwashi and a vampire in love. Bards will be singing of your union for centuries to come.”
He only stared at her, deep scowl etched into his forehead.
“Oh dear, don’t be so grumpy. You’re too serious, anyone ever tell you that?”
No, actually. “You’re too carefree.”
She put her hands behind her back, leaning forward just a bit and nodded before spinning away to take big, leg-stretched marching steps. “Optimistic. Just like I know you’ll find our mystery man and your darling love and we’ll all live happily ever after… ish.”
Tristan glanced over at Silas who’d kept a tight pace with him ever since setting out of the car. The elf didn’t turn his head as he returned a glance. There was that hand again on the hilt. Funny that no one balked at the huge sword on his hip.
“Tell me, have you two…” She giggled and looked back. “Consummated yet?”
Tristan’s ire rose. “Not very shy, is she?” he muttered to the man who was disturbingly taller than him. Silas didn’t even bother to give him a glance again. He was too busy hoping the others didn’t notice the dark blush. But Chrysanthe didn’t need to see his face to know how red he was. He always was sensitive.
To the pythia Tristan said, “What, you don’t have enough action going on yourself? Gotta butt into mine?”
“Oh dear, your relationship is a very interesting one. I can’t speak for everyone, but I’m very curious. Sure, there’s been tales of the Uruwashi and vampire... mixing, but it’s always purely carnal. They were meant to be together as much as they were meant to kill one another. The fact that your relationship is built on love instead of sex, as I can assume from your reaction, is very, very interesting indeed. You and Ash are enigmas.”
He just harrumphed at her. But agreed. They were meant to rip each other’s hearts out, not cherish them.
Her cheery expression thinned out into a frown as she rooted around in her skirts. She looked like she was just playing with herself until she pulled out a cell phone. “Chrysanthe,” she said by way of answer. She did some humming and nodding, and then spoke a bit of Greek and hung up. With a sour, pointed look at Tristan she said, “He says we’re late.”
“Who the fuck is he and where are we going?”
Chrysanthe pointed a thin finger across the way. At first Tristan thought she was pointing to the little café across the way but then he realized the much more dominate thing in the background was where she was really pointing. It was a huge fucking ship.
“No,” he snapped. “I can’t leave, are you crazy?” He was hoping they’d be going to Ash’s old house first. He needed to know that she wasn’t really there. Not that he could remember any good place for her to hide from the sun with half the building crumbled. But if she were, he could—in theory—scoop her up in a blanket and run off far away before that other one awoke for the night. Shit, if he found Genoveva too, he could end it all with a very sharp stick... maybe a little bit of fire, just to make sure. No more near-death experiences for him today, thank you very much.
“Oh dear, we’re not leaving Greece. Just think of it as a day trip.”
“No, no fucking way.” Tristan spun to leave but stopped short. He hated that he had to look up to meet the other man’s eyes. “Move.”
Silas only glared at him behind his sunglasses, sharp brows over the lenses arched in annoyance.
For January and despite the early morning rain and cold front, the afternoon was warm—far warmer than Tristan was used to this time of year and because of the heat, he couldn’t wear his jacket. Instead of hiding his gun in the jacket he couldn’t wear, Tristan had to settle for shoving it down the back of his pants like some sort of hood. He reached for it, but hesitated to draw it just yet. One, it was the middle of the afternoon with a lot of pedestrian traffic; tourists by the looks of it. And two, this guy was only an elf and hadn’t threatened mortal danger to Tristan or any other human. It wasn’t in Tristan’s code to kill him. Then again, wounding wasn’t the same as killing…
“I won’t say it again.”
The taller man stared him down for another moment before taking in a sharp breath and moving aside. Tristan, having expected just the opposite, let out his own held breath in a little sigh he couldn’t mask. With a dirty look, he stepped around the elf to go back the way they came. Where the others went was up to them, but he had to get back to that house and find Ash.
“What if I could tell you something you don’t know!” the pythia called out, sounding desperate and a little scared. That was her first fault, showing how much she needed him.
“Don’t care.”
“What if I told you it was about Ash?”
Tristan stopped and wished he hadn’t. He thought for a moment with his back to the others before finally saying, “Whatever it is you think you know, you’re wrong. And I don’t care.” Now, that wasn’t true. He did care when it came to Ash. But he also already knew there was a lot of things he didn’t know when it came to her. What could this stranger possibly say that would matter in grand scheme of things? He trusted Ash to tell him everything… eventually.
Tristan’d taken a step when the pythia’s distressed voice called out again, “You don’t care that she’s been lying to you?”
He harrumphed at her, not bothering to look back.
The pythia made a tiny frantic noise born of aggravation and blurted, “She has her memories back!”
That made Tristan stop and turn. “What do you mean, she has her memories back?”
“The ones taken from her? I don’t know who or when, but I do know she was given them back.”
Tristan narrowed his eyes at the small woman, stomping up to her. “Bullshit.”
“Oh dear.” She looked worried and confused, unsure of herself.
“No,” Tristan snapped, still unable to believe it. He never said anything, but he had felt like Yuki had been in their room when he awoke in France. More like a dream. Maybe it wasn’t made up in his head after all
. “If that were true, Ash would have said something.” Then again…
Chrysanthe frowned deeply up at Silas. Her ever loyal companion shrugged in return.
“No,” Tristan said again, shaking his head. “I won’t let you do this.”
“Oh dear, do what?”
“Try to pit me against Ash so I’ll help you without distractions.” The problem was, it would work. He was a confident man until it came to Ash. She had this way with the truth that he couldn’t ever fully trust. God he loved her, so damn much, and that’s what made his doubts about Ash’s honesty even harder to accept. It was naïve of him, but he had to trust her. He held onto that belief and was constantly disappointed by it.
“Oh dear,” Chrysanthe sighed. “It’s nothing like that.” She twisted her mouth as she thought for a moment and then huffed. “Very well, I hadn’t wished it to come to this…”
The only reason Tristan didn’t step away from her when she came up to him was that she didn’t frighten him. That was the wrong answer. All she did was put a hand on his left arm just above the cast, skin to skin, and say a few words in foreign language. Tristan screamed and his knees gave out. He fell right there in the middle of the street. Others were watching now as Tristan gasped and moaned out his pain.
Chrysanthe jumped back when Tristan dropped, eyes wide in what could only be attributed to surprise. She exchanged a look with Silas before shaking herself off and stepped close to loom over the American. “I need you to help us, do you understand? And you need your wrist in top shape. Go with us, help us with this tiny task and we will see to it that your wrist is properly cared for. And we’ll come back for your lady love and find her, together.”
“The… the fuck did you do to me?” It felt like his wrist was broken and worse. He couldn’t even remember when he broke his leg it hurting this bad. It was almost as if she placed a spell on him to add more pain. He didn’t doubt they, the pythia, could do such a thing, not that he really knew the full extent of their abilities.
She straightened, crossing her arms over her chest. “When I said that you’d have full use of your wrist I meant it, but not with my magic alone. Across the way, just on Crete is a man far more powerful than I. He will fix your wrist and tell you how we can find the man I seek. But you are part of this. You must go with us.”
Tristan doubled into himself for a moment, hiding his face, to think. He was ready to kill these two and leave if that’s what it took to find Ash. “Why should I trust you now?”
“Oh dear, you shouldn’t. But you have my word that I will see to it you’re fixed and well… if you help us. Equivalent exchange.”
God, the pain. He’d really rather just be on his own, fix his own wrist and find Ash, alone, but somehow he knew it wouldn’t be so simple. Not now.
“Make it quick or I’ll kill you both.”
Chrysanthe’s frown turned into a big grin. “Of course you will. Come.”
Before Tristan knew what was happening, Silas had bent down and lifted him to his feet, his arm securely flung over Silas’ neck. The man was warm—no, hot. Burning up. It was uncomfortable just being next to him, none less touching. But Tristan couldn’t even argue, the pain was so bad, shooting out of his wrist, up his arm and into his chest to pool into his belly. He could hardly breathe past the agony, forget walking on his own.
Silent, the group shuffled off down the street and onto a boat that was decorated very obviously for tourists. Silas found them a quiet place where not too many people would notice them and stare. When Tristan’d gotten as comfortable as he could being in such incredible pain, he asked, “What’d you do to me?”
Chrysanthe bit into her lip before answering. “Revoked a spell I’d cast on you while you were passed out.”
“A pain relief spell.”
She looked at him, wondering how he knew that. “Of the sort, yes.”
He gave a pained little laugh. “Thought so.” While the pain in his wrist, arm and upper chest was even worse than the pain of having that Russian vampire who tried to dig right through his middle, it waned at times. It waned and ebbed just like that nasty, gritty spell Ash had him swallow down before assaulting Malik. And without Ash having later explaining it to him, he knew that the way the pain worsened before it lessened in a constant flow was not how the spell should have worked. Again, there was that word to describe him: Special.
“What else?” he grunted.
Chrysanthe actually had conscious enough to blush and look away. “An added safeguard.”
“That you can’t fix yourself.” She nodded quickly though it wasn’t a question. “You must reallllly need me to find this guy for you.”
“Very much.”
“And you have no idea why.”
She slumped, looking out on the water as the boat started their journey. “A small idea…”
“Well?”
She shook her head.
“Hey,” he spit out as a spike in the pain wracked him. “If you’re going to torture me like this then I deserve to know why. I’ve got nothing to do with you or that Asian dude you’re looking for. I’m no one to you and I’ve got more important things to do.”
She snapped around to look at him, dark brown eyes held open a little wide. “Oh dear, but you do have plenty to do with us.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Chrysanthe sighed and looked out onto the water again. “I just… know.”
Tristan snorted, slumping down in his seat, clutching his forearm to his chest and praying for relief. “Pythia.”
Silas made a little noise and narrowed his eyes at the American though they couldn’t be seen behind his wraparound sunglasses. The group was quiet for a long time, lost to their own thoughts, thoughts that for Tristan were nearly drowned out by the constant drone of the boat engines and the aching in his arm.
“It’s happened before?” Chrysanthe suddenly said, startling Tristan.
“Being abducted by an elf and a pythia? Sure, happened just last month. Ah, what where their names again…?”
“No no,” she scoffed. “The pain potion.”
He considered her a moment and then sighed. “Ash gave it to me before we killed her Master but it didn’t work the way she—A jikininki bit me and I felt the bite, every tooth tear into me and then suddenly, the pain would stop. The whole night was like that. The swell and wan of pain, it was worse than just feeling the pain constantly… Haven’t tried the potion again since.”
She nodded at him as if she were happy with the answer and fell silent, deep in thought.
He harrumphed at her and settled down in his seat further.
“I believe he’s important to your future.”
Tristan straightened a little. “Excuse me?”
“The man I seek. I think he’s tied to you somehow.”
His pulse jumped, breath hitching. “Like he’s my… my father?”
“What? No. But I do believe you two are linked somehow, not blood—well, perhaps he could be a brother or so… The point is, I am sure your fate and this man’s fate are tied. That is why I must find him. You are the key to everything.”
Now Tristan’s interest was piqued—if only she’d started out with this conversation instead of trying to bribe him with things about Ash and then straight to physical bribery. Shit, he really was wasting precious daylight but it couldn’t be helped. Not anymore, he was in too deep and never saw it coming. “How? What’s my role in… everything? What does the foretelling mean?”
“Mean? Oh dear, that I can’t say, but that you are indeed as important as that woman who keeps Lilith says you are.”
“You know Yukihime?”
Chrysanthe visibly flinched. Even Silas reacted. “It’s… Yukihime of Water, she’s the one who keeps Lilith now?”
“Yeah…,” Tristan answered suspiciously.
“Oh dear. I think I preferred Lilith under Malik’s thumb...”
The change in conversation definitely helped distract Tristan fro
m the pain and he felt more mentally alert as he grew curious. If she was a pythia, which she felt like to him, then how come she didn’t know about Yukihime and Lilith already? There was something fishy going on here that had nothing to do with her aloofness.
Chrysanthe wouldn’t look him in the eye, her own darting back and forth to sneak glances. “Malik, he was broken in a special way but at least he wouldn’t touch the pythia. Yukihime on the other hand, she is a child. She will always be a child. She may think she has grown but… well, not much changes with the vampires as they age. They are who they are when they die, eternally.”
Tristan frowned. Not because he hated hearing her say it, but that she’d said very clearly what he’d always wondered. Yuki was still just a kid, no matter her age. He was being led around by a child. “You’re saying she’s not to be trusted.” Not that he ever would.
“No.” Chrysanthe rotated in her seat to look him straight in the eye. “In fact, you need to kill her. The moment you see her, strike her down.”
“Is this a grudge or something… greater?”
The pythia harrumphed, righting herself in her seat again. “Oh dear, if I had to be honest, I would say it’s a grudge… I just don’t like that crazy old vampire.”
“But?”
She sighed, slumping. “But there is the greater all at work too. She’s meddling, interferes where no interference is needed, messes up the whole sodding plan.”
“I see,” Tristan muttered, mind going over it all. It was more than interference the old vampire was causing. Was she the real reason for all his pains? Was she the answer to all the bad that’d been happening to him? Maybe it all had nothing to do with his fate. It was all Yuki’s fault. He really had to think it over now, seriously killing her that is. It wasn’t like he’d need much proof or convincing of the vampire’s wrong doing against humanity. He was still humanity, right?
“You know, you didn’t really answer my first question.” He had to stop for a moment as the pain ebbed up his arm and down his torso. God, he hoped the trip to land wasn’t far. “What’s Lilith said about me?” And when? The girl cut out her own eyes and refused to speak again right after their passing meeting at that onsen in Japan the night he killed Malik.
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