Primal Burdens: (The Uruwashi Series #5) Page 3

  He advanced again and again, swinging a little too exuberantly, but coming so close each time to almost hitting the vampire. Suddenly Castor stopped his backwards retreat and swung out. It was a sloppy punch and Tristan easily dodged it. Faintly, he was aware that the mouthy one, Pollux, had left, but Tristan was only one person. He just had to hope that the other brother couldn’t do too much damage before he caught up to him.

  Seriously, where the hell was Ash?

  “Your mind is closed, but you are distracted,” the current brother taunted in that dull monotone that niggled at Tristan’s sanity.

  Tristan dodged another sloppy swing from the vampire, only just realizing that he was being pushed back on purpose.

  “You just worry about yourself!” Crying out, he dropped down, swept his arms across Castor’s ankles and scooped up the vampire, bringing the vampire down hard onto his back. The kid grunted with the impact and rolled to get away, but Tristan finally had a step ahead of him and tackled the vampire, pinning him between his knees.

  The movement had caught the knife in Castor’s surprisingly refined 18th century finery—seriously, he only just noticed how out of place it was right then, the elaborately embroidered frock coat, silk pantaloons and crisp white stockings—and instead of trying to avoid cutting the vampire, he just let the eight-inch knife sink cleanly into the vamp’s collar.

  Castor groaned through gritted fangs, but didn’t cry out. Tristan was actually a little impressed.

  “You can’t win this,” Castor said through his teeth, eyes crinkling with pain.

  “I already have.” Tristan pulled his knife from the kid and in the process caught a leather cord around Castor’s neck with the blade.

  Dumbfounded, Tristan glanced back and forth between the necklace now in his hand and the vampire pinned under him. “Isn’t that the damnedest thing?” he muttered.

  Castor, he looked like a Master now, white skin and hair, crystal clear eyes with just a hint of brown and a ton of cunning.

  The vampire smiled big. That was Tristan’s only warning and he gasped as he realized he needed to get away. He wasn’t fast enough and Castor slapped his palm against Tristan’s chest.

  The pain of cold electricity tore through his torso and down his arm, finding an out from his fingertips. He toppled over, stiff and unable to move as the electricity paralyzed him, made him convulse. He thought his heart was going to stop.

  Casually, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, Castor stood, righting his clothing back into place. He was just as wet as Tristan, having endured the sudden storm and soaked to the skin, but at least he didn’t smell like flesh, sweat and fear like Tristan. With a tiny huff, he gave up righting his ruined coat and dropped his hands to his sides.

  “I was told my only objective today is to warn you. So, consider this your warning, Uruwashi. She comes for you.”

  “Fuuuuck,” he hissed when found his breath again. “Wh—who… she?” Though he was sure he knew already. Lilith had told him who was coming for him. He hadn’t gotten to the point of being scared shitless about it yet, but he was getting closer.

  The vampire tilted his head, flipped the hair out of his eyes and then said, “Nastasia.”

  Tristan coughed as the numbness in his chest dissipated. Dammit, this kid was supposed to only be a vanilla. Someone made that necklace to hide his appearance but inside, yeah, Tristan should have listened to his gut feeling. He knew what he felt and it wasn’t no fucking vanilla.

  “Who… the fuck… is that?”

  For the first time since encountering the boy, Castor looked really angry. He was barely able to contain himself as he stood there shaking, fists clenched at his side. “If you don’t know, you will soon.”

  Tristan wobbled to his feet, still having a little difficulty getting a deep breath after that jolt of electricity. “I don’t like these bullshit riddles. Just speak plainly.”

  Castor shook his head. “I’m done here. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Stop!” He took a step forward, but the vampire was already out of reach, scrambling over the top of a house and disappearing on the other side. Five seconds later Tristan couldn’t even sense him anymore.

  Well, that wasn’t good. But there wasn’t much he could do about it now and resigning himself to failure, he shoved the necklace into his jacket pocket and started to jog the direction Ash had gone. The pain in his chest he was sure was more from the mounting panic than the electricity that’d just been shot through him. As he approached the end of the street, he slowed to a full stop.

  He’d heard the noise as he’d gotten closer but wasn’t sure what it was. Now, he was standing frozen by the utter horror of it. Ash was lying on the ground face down with her backside facing him, legs bent and spread so that her sex was on display. Her pants had been torn, caught around one ankle in tatters. Her upper body was curled into itself, like a caterpillar, lifting her stomach off the ground, but her arms were straight out in front of her like she was reaching for something. Both of her hands were gloved in red to nearly mid forearm.

  But the true horror was the other unmoving person next to her. The one Pollux had mounted. The vampire was completely nude save for his knee-high tights, now a shade of deep red and brown from all the blood. The sound of their flesh coming together, the wet slurping noise it made brought bile up the back of Tristan’s throat.

  “Oh god,” he whispered, horrified.

  At his whispered oath, Pollux stopped gyrating against the body and glanced back so that Tristan could only see a shimmering eye and the corner of a manic smile. “Got bored waiting for you.” He thrust again, turning his face up to the sky. “Ah, fuck… So I decided to have a little fun.”

  Tristan took a step back, not meaning to.

  Pollux stiffened, moaning and laughing, and Tristan didn’t have to feel the vampire’s pleasure to know he’d finished violating the poor, unmoving person. “Oh fuck yeah,” Pollux grunted. “That was the shit.” He stood slowly, uncurling himself. “The freshly dead ones are always so damn loose but oh so good.”

  Tristan didn’t even have time to make a coherent thought from the statement before he was on his knees, retching.

  “Aw,” the vampire mocked with a pouty face. “I didn’t think you’d be so sensitive.”

  “You son of a bitch, what have you done?” The anger in his voice was drowned out by his disgust, the putrid taste of stomach bile.

  Pollux laughed, as he stepped into his pants and pulled them up. They were the same sort of 18th century finery his brother had on, short pantaloons that showed off his stained stockings. Maybe a relic of their human life? Fuck, he knew these boys were older than they seemed.

  “Nothing I’m not allowed to do… Look, I’ve run out of time, overstayed my welcome, blah blah blah, you know how it is, so I’ve got to go.” The vampire took a step back and Tristan tensed, ready to chase after him. “Did brother give you the message? Oh well, anyway if he didn’t, I gave it to her. Er, the message I mean. Well, yeah my dick too, but,” He waved flamboyantly. “You get the idea.”

  Tristan roared, hearing his own anger bounce back at him from the close buildings. He hadn’t time to think it through and instinct had him reaching into his jacket and pulling out his gun. Three missed shots were met with fading laughter.

  “Fuck!” Tristan screamed. He didn’t have a vampire’s sensitivities, but he felt like he’d sensed the surprise and commotion of the residents around him at the sound of gunshots.

  Knowing he had little time with the knowledge that there’d undoubtedly be an MP or ten around with the academy wall literally within his reach, he gathered up Ash and started to run. He didn’t care what he looked like, carrying an unconscious, half naked, drenched woman through the middle of downtown. He just had to get out now.

  “Wha—” He stopped when he was within sight of the car, huffing for breath—Ash was heavier than she looked. “What’re you doing here?”

  The petite man leaning against t
he rental looked up, startled. “Oh! You scared me…” Then he really saw the others and his eyes widened. “Oh no, what happened?”

  Tristan dug in his pocket and pulled out the keys, pushing past the fae and crouching down between their Aston and the car next to it. “I really don’t know. Is there a reason you’re here?”

  “Yeah.” Lance jiggled a small leather back pack in the air. “You two rushed off without your stuff.”

  “Stuff?” He asked, preoccupied as he looked Ash over quickly. The blood he’d seen on her before was all gone and save for a few dirty spots, she seemed okay. Then there was her torn clothing, her naked bottom half and the pain of why stabbed him in the chest. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to her, kissing her temple.

  “Is… is she okay?”

  “Fine,” Tristan barked, lifting Ash into the passenger seat. Truthfully though, he had no idea. He could only hold onto hope.

  The fae winced, opening the bag to look inside. “I have this stuff, I think you need sooner rather than later. Social security card, license and birth certificate for Ash. Ash’s cell, your passport. Uh, keys to something here, I haven’t checked what yet, oh right,” He looked up smiling. “And your wedding rings.”

  Tristan stopped fussing over Ash and turned to look at Lance. “Our what?” This so wasn’t the time to be fucking around, but he had to see it with his own eyes. He snatched a small packet of papers from Lance’s hand and flipped through them.

  Lance frowned, stepping back. “Uh, you guys are married, um according to that anyway. Are you sure she’s okay…?”

  “I’ll be damned,” he muttered. Sure enough, there it was in plain print, Tristan Daniel Blum was married to Asta Evangeline Moriakos. With a little snort, he shoved the papers back into the bag he was taking from the startled fae. “We have to go.”

  They both noticed the sirens in the same moment.

  “Is that for you?” Lance asked, looking at Tristan suspiciously.

  “Uh… yes. I fired my gun.”

  The fae broke out in a language Tristan didn’t know but had heard before. He didn’t need to know what the young man was saying to know he was cursing. “I thought you were better than that.”

  “Look—”

  “No, just go. Get out of here and I’ll stick around, see what I can find out from the police and possible witnesses. I’ll catch up to you later.”

  Tristan slapped Lance on the shoulder and rushed over to the driver’s side. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah,” the fae answered sounding grumpy as hell as he backed away to let Tristan out of the parking spot. “Where will you go?”

  Tristan shook his head. “I don’t know—away.” The fae nodded and winced when the sound of sirens got even closer. No doubt MP had already found Pollux’s poor victim.

  “Be safe,” the fae said with a nod. “I’ll call you later.”

  Tristan nodded his appreciation and left. It took everything in him to maintain an inconspicuous pace out of downtown with all the emergency personal passing him by. All he wanted to do was haul ass, get away. Next to him, Ash was perfectly still. She wasn’t even breathing. The few times he caught her napping during waking hours, she breathed.

  And what exactly did he say when she was awake? What exactly could you say to rape victim to make the pain go away?

  “I’m so sorry Ash, please be okay.”

  He didn’t even know where he was going, but his subconscious did, taking him south out of Annapolis down Route 2. The drive would be another twenty minutes at least and he couldn’t stand to wait that long. So just before going over the bridge into Edgewater, he pulled over at a small strip mall. There were a few retail stores, all closed for the night, and at the end a restaurant still busy with people. He parked in front of the dark storefront to the spa place and turned in his seat to examine Ash.

  She still wasn’t breathing, but she had a steady pulse. Her legs had flopped apart during one of his hard turns and he repositioned them together to hide her nudity. He got out of the car, standing in the open door to take off his jacket. He was damp and sticky underneath, and, he realized, shaking. It was adrenaline, stress, fear, worry… everything plaguing him since his parents died. He stopped to shut his eyes, taking in a deep breath and let it out. Then groaned to himself when it didn’t work and got back in the car to cover Ash’s lap with the damp jacket.

  He smoothed back the hair from her face and kissed her temple, praying again that she was okay.

  They were just passing Route 214 when he felt a flip flop in his belly. He’d never experienced that particular sensation before, but instantly knew what it meant. Ash had awoken. She made a little noise, as if surprised and he heard her take in a deep breath.

  He reached over and turned down the radio—he’d only had it on to hear the news. And there’d been none so far. That had to count for something.

  “Hey,” he said gently, giving her a warm smile and trying to not look constipated. “Welcome back.”

  She looked down at her lap slowly and then back up, clearing her throat and shifting uncomfortably, sort of wedging herself against the door. “Where are we?”

  “Uh, just outside of Annapolis.” He sighed. “I’m taking us to my parent’s house, it’s the only place I could come up with in my panic.”

  She was silent for a long time and, worried, he shot her a quick look. This part of highway was away from the glare of the city lights, traffic on the light to none side, so he could goof off a little and get away with it, but with such a powerful car and wet roads, he didn’t want to chance an accident.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch.

  “Did you have sex with me?”

  He nearly ran the car off the road. “Wha—what?” Then he laughed. Maybe it wasn’t the right response but it was all his addled brain would let him have. “Not recently, no.”

  “Then who was I with tonight?”

  He frowned hard, sorry he’d been laughing a moment before. Stress made him do weird shit sometimes, but he still felt shame. “You don’t remember?”

  She shook her head. She was watching him in a way that worried him.

  “It was Pollux, I think—no, it wasn’t possible for Castor to—” He stopped and let out a slow breath. “It was Pollux who raped you.”

  Her eyes widened, but otherwise her expression remained guarded.

  “And you had no part in this conquest?”

  “What!” he yelped. “Ash, what the fuck’s going on? Why would you even ask me that?”

  Oh man. He was having that feeling all the sudden. That unprovoked uneasy, the sickness deep in his soul warning him that danger was close. When he glanced at her again, she was staring at him with cold eyes, the eyes of a very dangerous preternatural person.

  “Because I do not know who you are.”

  3: Save Yourself

  WHAT the fuck do you mean you don’t know who I am?” When she didn’t answer, he added nervously, “I’m Tristan.”

  She shifted in her seat, turning to face him more fully and every one of his instincts screamed at him to get out of the car now. He only kept on driving because if he stopped he just might get out and high tail it away of there. His instincts were screaming at him to run. But, this was Ash.

  “Tristan?”

  “Yeah,” he answered wearily, trying hard to not sound scared. “Tristan Blum, your boyfriend.”

  Her laugh was more of a sharp chirp than a real laugh. “You jest in dangerous ways.”

  The tension was palatable and he took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. With a push of will, he forced his mind blocks aside and took a bit of a mental breath as new air seemed to fill him. It was a strange sensation, as if his mind had been locked in a stale, airless vault all this time and letting his guards down finally let in the fresh.

  “I don’t know what’s going,” he said in a careful tone, gingerly taking the round-about past the dark gas station. The lit-up Lothi
an fire station was like a beacon calling to him as he passed on by.

  “But I’m on your side. Look, I just opened my mind to you, completely. It’s all there for you.”

  He took another steadying breath and started to think about everything that brought them together last October: The car crash, his drinking, the emptiness and sense of loss. There was Shizuka as she tried to eat him and Ash, his gallant knight coming to his rescue in the guise of a man. Their flippant remarks towards one another, but ultimate understanding. And then the biggest surprise that he was in love with Ash, but instead of telling her, kept it bottled up for months until death and fire nearly tore them apart in that French dungeon.

  “I still don’t believe you,” she whispered.

  In a frenzy, and nearly running the car off the pavement, Tristan pulled them to a stop on the side of the road. He’d done this before, in France, drive an expensive exotic and nearly wreck it because of something Ash said.

  He turned in the seat, arm up on the wheel to steady himself and faced her. He noticed her noticing his gun. There was no way he would pull it on her and he let her know that clearly.

  “Just because I’m an Uruwashi doesn’t mean—”

  “Uruwashi?” She shifted again, looking ready to bolt. “You are an Uruwashi?”

  Guess he didn’t think too hard on that. In fact, everything he showed her just now was all focused around his love for her.

  “Yes, but I—” He gasped, ducking back when her fist shot out and thumped his head on the window.

  They both looked surprised that he missed the blow.

  “Ash!”

  She attacked again, this time landing a hit right to his solar plexus and knocking the air from him, slamming him back against the door. He coughed, trying to get in a good breath and stopped breathing all together when he realized what just happened. He let out a shaky sigh and looked up slowly, meeting Ash’s angry eyes past the barrel of gun pointed at him.

  “Ash, let’s talk about this.”

  “Get out.”

  “What?”

  “I said get out of the car.”