White Lies: (The Uruwashi Series #4)

by Christina Moore

  Wren made a noise that might have been an annoyed sigh, but it was so soft Tristan wasn’t sure he heard it at all. “I didn’t want it to be like this, you know.” The vampire glanced at Tristan and frowned. “It was a very dishonorable thing to do but time is forever an enemy, even for vampire.”

  Indeed. The sun would be up soon if that dash clock was right. “So you kidnap me?”

  Wren glanced over again, studying Tristan’s face. Whatever he read there, Tristan couldn’t tell. This sort of thing though, it was such everyday bullshit for Tristan that he didn’t get all worked up over it anymore. Kidnapped? Eh, whatever. Shit, just a few months ago he almost died, for real died. Everything else was just dust to sweep under the carpet compared to that.

  “I really didn’t want to hurt you. But I need your help. Neither of us can stop her alone. But together I think we will do… okay.”

  Tristan grunted. “Just okay? Not super encouraging, dude.”

  “She is very powerful. I would have preferred to have Mast—Desmond. Accompany me, but I fear he’s still angry with me… after all of this time.”

  It was Tristan’s turn to study his companion. “What did you do to make Desmond shun you?” Not that Tristan imagined it was much. The dude was a petty son of a bitch. “I’m guessing he’s the one who messed up your face.”

  Wren flinched so hard the car slipped in the snow at his carless jerk. The vampire gasped and straightened the car. He lowered his head, only just keeping his eyes on the road in a dark glare as he muttered under his breath.

  “What was that?” Tristan asked.

  “I said,” Wren snapped, an accent popping up out of nowhere with his obvious distress. “I left. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  Tristan snorted and tried to cross an ankle across his knee but then gave up, realizing he was too tall, even for the luxury car. “Whatever.”

  Wren pulled into a hidden drive that looked like the back driveway of a small grouping of buildings, the kind that were usually a shop on the main level and living space above. “I own the room we’re about to go into, so I’ll thank you now not to make a mess.”

  Tristan looked at the vampire until Wren huffed, put the car in park and turned in his seat to give him his full attention. He smirked at the annoyance on the vampire’s face—well, half face. “No promises.”

  Wren sighed in dismay.

  Tristan’s smile broadened even more. Sure, he was trapped with a strange vampire, but that didn’t mean he had to go all damsel in distress on the guy. Hell, he wasn’t sure Wren even meant to hurt him. That meant he could fuck with the guy all he wanted. If he was going to be kidnapped, why not have a little fun with it?

  “You’re a man of your word?”

  “Absolutely I am.”

  “Wonderful,” Wren muttered sounding like he really meant just the opposite and climbed out of the car.

  Tristan behaved himself as he let Wren open the door for him, even complimented the vampire on what a gentleman he was.

  Wren rolled his eyes and guided Tristan to the back door of the building. Inside was too dark to see anything but it smelled musty like old paper, and damp wood. His eyes didn’t have a chance to adjust before he was being shoved up a narrow flight of stairs. The air was fresher and with a hint of jasmine on the second floor. A light was already on in the small genkan where Wren politely asked Tristan to take off his shoes. He did this too without complaint, just biding his time. It was almost daylight out, Tristan’s domain, and there was nothing Wren could do to keep him here.

  “You think so?” Wren asked with a crooked brow as he moved deeper into the second floor.

  Tristan shrugged at the vampire who he’d intentionally let hear his thoughts. “Prove me otherwise.” He followed the vampire into what he thought might have been a living room, but there wasn’t much of anything. A single kotatsu table complete with heater and blanket, a few pillows of various sizes and a small sofa. No pictures or nick-knacks. “Kinda Spartan, huh? Funny, I didn’t take you for the bachelor type.”

  “Do you always antagonize your captors? It’s very annoying.”

  He smiled and parked his ass right down on one of the cushions surrounding the table. “Can’t help but be me. If you don’t like it, you can just let me go.”

  The vampire harrumphed at him as he reached back and gathered all of his long black hair into his hand. Tristan was surprised when he got a good look at the mask the hair hid and the scars that showed around it, dipping down deep into his collar.

  “Jesus,” Tristan whispered. “Did Desmond really do all that? I mean, I know he’s a big fucking stupid jackass, I just never took him for the violent type.”

  Wren’s jaw tightened for a second before he forced himself to relax again and dropped his hair back into place. “If I were to tell you that I would unbind you if you promise to remain here until I awaken, would you agree?”

  Tristan didn’t even have to think about it. “Nope.”

  “Zannen da,” the vampire muttered and turned his back on him, moving towards the genkan again. “A shame indeed.”

  Something in the vampire’s tone set Tristan’s instincts off and he wasn’t about to see what the man had in mind and sprung to his feet. Even with his vampiric instincts, Wren was taken off guard and grunted when Tristan body checked him right into the wall. He raised his achy and bound arms to scoop up the smaller man and catch him by the throat, but the vampire was faster and managed to rotate under Tristan so that they were holding each other like lovers rather than fighters.

  “What the—” Tristan blinked at him in surprise for a second before gathering his wits again. He planted a foot against the wall at Wren’s side and kicked out, dragging the vampire back with him. When his back slammed on the floor, he caught Wren in the stomach with his other foot and flung him over his head. But the vampire’s forward momentum came to a sudden and sickening halt when Tristan’s bound wrists caught the vampire under the chin. The inside of his lip split open against his teeth when Wren’s forehead smacked him in the face.

  “Ow,” Tristan groaned and shoved the unmoving body off him. He took a second to touch his lip and frowned at the deep gash. Well, there went kissing Ash for the next week. “Ow, ow, ow—fuck.” He shifted a little, noticing his left arm was hot. He was bleeding again.

  “Uh… hey.” He poked at Wren’s shoulder. “You uh, you alive?”

  The vampire wasn’t moving. Tristan knew what he heard but needed to be sure as he pushed the man over to his back.

  “Shit,” he hissed. He’d broken the vampire’s neck. He didn’t mean to, he just wanted to get away. As he wobbled to his feet, he thought that he’d better leave, that he could be sorry and wallow in guilt later if Wren wasn’t strong enough to heal that. For now, he needed to find his way back home.

  He found his knives and gun shoved up Wren’s ridiculously large sleeves in special compartments, cut himself free and left, grabbing his shoes on the way out. He didn’t even bother to put them on as he hurried down the stairs and out of the building.

  It wasn’t until he got in the car, shivering from snow melted, cold-ass socks and an adrenaline high, that he realized he’d forgotten the most important thing. With a groan of self-admonishment, he went back inside and upstairs, leaving his shoes behind on the passenger seat of the car he was about to steal. He was still grumbling to himself under his breath for being stupid when he reached the second story genkan again. He saw the shaft of bamboo coming for him, but was too slow to move out of the way and took it right to the face.

  “Fuck!” he cried out from the floor, clutching his forehead, expecting to find his brain hanging out of a gash the size of the Grand fucking Canyon. There was a lump but no blood and brain.

  “Why did you come back?” Wren asked as he stepped around the corner, wielding the shinai. Tristan wasn’t sure if it hurt more or less than the usual solid wood bokken he and Ash practiced with on occasion. Ash tended to avoid his head at least.r />
  Tristan rolled to his back to look up at the vampire. “Forgot car key.”

  Wren glanced at the wall where he’d clearly hung the key when they’d come in and then snorted a cynical laugh. “Americans…”

  Even beaten, Tristan had to smile. He couldn’t explain it, but he liked the guy. Maybe it was because he reminded Tristan of a mix of Ash and Mamoru.

  “Will you comply now?”

  “Fuck, I surrender. Just don’t eat me, okay?”

  The vampire harrumphed at him, his nostrils flaring as his eyes lit up for a brief instant. He disappeared for a moment, only to return with a first aid kit and pair of proper handcuffs. “If you would, please.”

  Tristan sighed but thrust his hands up into the air for cuffing.

  Wren stepped close enough that if Tristan wanted to start a fight again, he had the perfect chance to grab the guy’s legs. But he decided he was done for the moment. He had all day to find a way out.

  “Your jacket,” the man said softly.

  With another defeated sigh, Tristan sat up and wiggled tenderly out of his bloody and torn jacket. Then hissed at the amount of dark stain around his left arm. The jacket had acted almost like a condom and fresh blood poured out.

  Wren’s mouth screwed up as he went to his knee and examined the wound. Still focused on Tristan’s arm, Wren asked quietly, “Did you kill him?”

  “Him, who? You’re going to have to be more specific. I’ve got a list.” And fuck, he hated that he did.

  The first cuff clicked around his wrist and Tristan frowned. The second clicked into place and then Wren was prodding at the wound again. “Takeuchi Mamoru. You thought of him earlier.”

  Tristan stared at the side of Wren passive face. “N—no. He was my friend.” He was a brother, as Mamoru had so aptly put it. They were blood, somewhere along the line.

  Wren looked like he didn’t believe him as he grabbed ahold of his forearm.

  “It was an elf.”

  This got a noticeable reaction from the vampire and then Tristan was tugged upright, wobbling to his feet.

  “An elf? Here? What in blazes are the elves doing this far east?”

  He wasn’t sure what the man meant, or the worry behind it, but Tristan shook his head. “Greece.”

  Wren’s expression went even more startled. “That’s pythia territory.”

  O-K… He was starting to feel like there was still a lot to be learned outside of what Mamoru had told him. Then again, it wasn’t like they had a ton of time to go super in depth, still, he felt just as confused about his world now as he was from the start of all this craziness.

  “Which elf?”

  Tristan shrugged. “Called himself Silas.”

  The vampire flinched. “The Duane prince?”

  Prince? Seriously, that guy?

  “I—but,” Wren stuttered, “they were friends.” The vampire glanced at him. “Good friends.”

  Tristan looked away. “It was an accident.” And if he wasn’t weak, Tristan wouldn’t have gotten himself nearly killed. If he hadn’t been stabbed through the chest, then the spell Chrysanthe used to save him could have saved Mamoru. Fate had a sick sense of just.

  “Sō ka,” Wren whispered, shoulders slumping.

  Without any more questions, Wren took a few minutes to clean Tristan’s arm and put in a few stitches. The cut wasn’t so long as it was deep and it made him ache all the way to his chest. But Wren was gentle and efficient as he stitched and bandaged Tristan up.

  Nodding, he motioned for Tristan to move and guided him through the small apartment until they reached a door at the end of a short hall. “You’ll be comfortable in here. I suggest getting plenty of sleep.”

  Tristan looked inside when Wren opened the door. It was the size of a closet, literally. The bed, the only thing in the space, came up right to the door and touched all four walls. At least the futon looked thick and comfy, nicer than his current one. Had a real frame and all. “Fantastic,” he sighed as he climbed onto the bed. There was a light fixture over his head but with no bulb in it, it wasn’t going to do much of anything for him.

  “Oyasumi,” Wren said with a shrewd smile before shutting the door on him and locking it.

  Tristan sighed again at the windowless, pitch black prison and wondered how he was going to get out.

  12: Beyond the Invisible

  THERE was a weight on top of him, the sound of a man’s grunts and angry words filling his ear. The revulsion and fear he felt were real. The experience wasn’t. Or, he had hoped. He’d been having this same dream since France, but there was never enough for him to understand what was happening or what it meant. Just the emotions that went with it: fear, pain, confusion, disgust. Drowning despair.

  He wondered if his mind were trying to tell him something, maybe something he’d been made to forget. The thought scared him a little, but his curiosity had always been a powerful thing. He was willing to remember even if that memory gave him greater pain.

  He was just about to give himself over to the struggling memory when he felt the warmth of life brush against him. He stifled a shiver and then realized that he was completely aware that he was sleeping, could feel it in his body but his mind was wide awake. Wide awake and in a mental space that wasn’t of the world he knew.

  “The past is the past,” a voice said to him. “You dwell on things that mater naught when the darkness prowls.”

  “Li—Lilith?” He knew it was a thought but he suspected he’d just said it aloud in his sleep too. Because, without a doubt, he knew he was asleep. She told him as much without words or real thought, it was just a fact he knew at her bidding.

  The presence shifted and he felt the familiar cadence of a nod. It was strange, he was fully aware of himself but there was no strain on his mind or body, just the bliss of utter emptiness. He didn’t even feel panic at the oddness of being suspended without feeling. The whole experience was almost… pleasant.

  “I’ve come for you, Uruwashi.”

  The words seemed to chill him. Words he’d heard enough to know when shit was about to hit the fan.

  “There is something about to happen that you must witness.”

  He felt himself nod mentally, not scared at the prospect of whatever this event was and when the voice spoke again, it had more shape, was louder as if Lilith were a part of his conscious. “Hurry, it starts now.”

  He wanted to ask what, but then there was a tug on his mind and suddenly Ash was there, her image plastered on the wall of Tristan’s mind. He not only saw her, he felt her. Her body, her emotions, the apprehension and doubt as she walked into a dark space. God, he could smell her. He was her. He realized he’d been shoved into her consciousness.

  Jesus, so strong.

  She liked her new powers, the lessons learned from her ancient Master, Innokentiy. She’d just used her seikonō, and heavily. He could taste the grit of earth between his teeth, feel its pulse across her body. She’d raised a jikininki tonight and was exhilarated over her mastery, the control, the beauty in that splendid creature, the moon bear. She hummed with excited energy even as her wellspring was depleted to an uncomfortable level. She felt superior to Yuki for the first time in her life. She knew, without a doubt, that she could hurt, maybe even nearly kill, the ancient vampire. The prospect made her confident and gave her hope to a future not marred by needless death.

  The Snow Princess was as at Ash’s side. He knew he was hitching a ride in Ash’s conscious, knew it clearly, but he felt Yuki’s emotions. Maybe it was how all vampire sensed each other. He felt Yuki’s mantle of presence almost as keenly as Ash’s wrapped around him.

  The emotions from Yuki confused him, but there was no focus to analyze. Ash was talking now, her voice clear and melodious, demanding everyone hear her words.

  “What is this?” she demanded.

  The older vampire looked startled for a moment and bowed her head. She was trying to hide the confusion in her eyes but Ash knew better. She—they—cou
ld taste Yukihime’s emotions.

  “Please,” the Snow Princess said softly, motioning deeper into the cave.

  With a huff, Ash turned back around and continued to push her way through the tight space of the cave—a cave that was until very recently occupied by the very moon bear jikininki she’d just given life and rest again to. Tristan felt a surge of electricity again as Ash reveled in her mastery of the creature. He was proud of her, even if she was being a bit emotional. She needed a release, to finally tell The Snow Princess off and have the air clear between them.

  The vampires emerged finally into a great cavernous space. Despite the cold stone and the snow outside, the hole was balmy and warm. Comfortable enough for a human to live in. But there was no human living in this cave.

  Tristan flinched, trying to command a body that didn’t exist in this metaphysical space. Lilith, he could still feel her with him, hovering along the fringes, but he wanted to see her. Assess, understand in the way only he trusted his eyes to tell him.

  “Eyes lie,” Lilith said again in her little girl voice in his head.

  Tristan meant to say, “So does the mind”, but she sensed the sentiment and he felt her smile dismissively at him.

  There were gauzy columns of colored fabric affixed to the ceiling of the dugout cave, creating smaller spaces of use within the cavern. A large fire pit with a metal grated table of sorts was carved out in the middle of the room, a large iron pot of bubbling liquid that smelled very familiar to Ash cooking away on top. The bed in the corner, behind the curtains of blue, looked hand-made. It was all very cozy, even if out of place in a cave. Sitting at the fire, a small figure stirred the pot. In his empty space, Tristan shifted, trying to find Lilith and realized she was no longer at his side. Her consciousness was back in her own body.

  Understanding washed over Ash, tightening her gut and focusing Tristan’s attention again. “This place smells of Lilith. Don’t tell me she lives here,” she said softly.

  Yuki’s fear flashed. “Insisted upon it.”