Bete Noire (22 page)

The manager relayed the message and Gillette started out of the room with a gruff “hmm”. Tristan stifled a sigh as he followed them into the living room and giving the whole room a quick glance, searching out these candles he used as his alibi. The decorative candles on the side table near the balcony and desk were untouched, never lit. He winced,
hoping they hadn’t noticed the tiny detail and stepped around the few emergency personnel that were left. He caught a glimpse of the coffee table, now shoved up against the far wall next to the balcony slider. Relief filled him to see that the wicks of those candles were burnt—probably from that huge fireball Lucien threw at the sofa. At least part of his story was validated, but he still didn’t understand why the vampire threw his fireball at the sofa and not Tristan. The carpet where the kitsune he’d cut in half and bleed out was dark, but it looked more like wine than blood. Too bad he didn’t have a bottle and set of glasses sitting out.

Gillette suddenly stopped in the middle of the room so that Tristan almost ran into the back of him. The Frenchman gave him a look, frowning. He didn’t like Tristan one bit. Didn’t believe his bullshit story either
—probably had a little to do with his not liking the American.

Tristan raised his eyebrows at the older man in question, completely comfortable with his near nakedness, albeit on the cold side. They stared at each other for a long moment as a cold, condescending smile took over Tristan’s features. He was too tired, too weary to behave himself much longer. Gillette opened his mouth to speak, but be
fore the word formed a loud bang sounded from inside the master bedroom. Tristan flinched even as he tried schooling his face to neutral and failed horribly. Gillette gave him a nasty look and stomped for the bedroom, mumbling to the manager.

“Monsieur
, is there anyone else in the suite?” Moreau asked.

“Uh,” Tristan stuttered, pulse increasing. What would they find when they opened that door? Would Sebastian be dead, covered in his own blood, surrounded by illegal weapons and a severed nose? “Yeah, actually...”

Gillette shot Tristan a furrowed brow look before reaching for the double doors. He turned the handles of both and pushed so hard that they banged against the wall to either side. Inside, the room was dark, all of the curtains drawn shut. The only illumination was a small sliver of soft light across the carpet from the open bathroom door and the light from the living room. Gillette huffed and flipped the switch, flooding the room with light.

The bed moved and up sat Sebastian out of a cloud of deep red sheets, blinking against the sudden bright. The sheet piled low enough on Sebastian’s lap that everyone knew he was naked… in Tristan’s bed
. At least there was no blood on his upper body and his neck didn’t look like it was torn up too badly—just a small Band-Aid. And holy shit, was that tiny, lean guy always that muscular?

Both Tristan and Gillette made the same shocked noise. Between them, Moreau whispered, “
Oh lá
...” And with those two little words Tristan knew exactly what the guy was thinking. He cringed, gritting his teeth and fisting his hands. That son of a bitch Sebastian was in for a beating later. Tristan was going to pound him to faerie dust.

Gillette took a step forward and spoke quickly to the man on the bed. Sebastian’s cool green eyes flicked to Tristan for a scarce second and then back to Gillette. “Sebastian
Renard,” he answered matter-of-factly.

Gillette turned to Tristan, a deep frown pulling his mustache down and
his eyes wrinkle to make him look ten years older than he was. “This is lover you talk of?”

Tristan gave a start. “You speak English.” The fucking liar.

Gillette’s jaw hardened and his eyes narrowed. He wasn’t going to answer the question until Tristan answered his.

“Uh...,” Tristan said and glanced at Sebastian. The other man smiled warmly, as if everything was perfectly peachy. As if he didn’t get bitten earlier in the evening and nearly died. As if he wasn’t pretending to be
Tristan’s lover.

“Yes,” Tristan finally spat out, grudgingly.

“Fine,” Gillette answered, his gaze on Sebastian. “You may stay. We remove burnt article and go.”

“Great, now if you don’t mind, can I get some privacy here?”

Gillette looked back to him, his frown deepening. He gave a single nod and left the room. Moreau’s face was a shade of red that extended all the way down the man’s neck and brightened the tips of his ears. When the man didn’t move, Tristan gave him a pointed, expectant look, leaning in.

“Oh, yes.” The man cleared his throat. “Of course.
Pardon
.” He gave a small nod and retreated quickly, hand to his flushed cheek.

Christ, what did I get
myself into now
? Tristan wondered.

With the others wrapping up their work and the manger and chief finally off his ass, Tristan shut himself in
the bedroom with Sebastian. “Dude, what the fuck?” he growled, fighting to keep his voice down.

“My deepest apologies,
mon seigneur.” He hung his head in shame, or to hide the blush and smirk curling his lips. “I thought it the best way to deal with the personnel should they enter the room. I passed out and had only just locked up your weapons before you entered and had no time to dress.” He looked up again, meeting Tristan’s eyes with a look that said he really wasn’t sorry at all.

Tristan sighed, running his fingers through hair. “Whatever. They should be leaving soon. You all right?”

“Ah, oui, mon seigneur. Merci. That vampire did not take too much blood from me and I have regenerated most of it already.”

Tristan nodded. Guess it paid to be a faerie. “Did he say anything to
you?”

“
Mon seigneur?”

“Lucien, about what he wanted maybe? Why he was here? Anything at all.”

Sebastian shook his head. “Not a word.” The man paused for a moment, head tilted to the side in thought. “This vampire, the one who bit me, is he the one you’re searching for? The rogue vampire?”

“Yep, that’s him.”

“If I may, mon seigneur, speak freely... This Lucien, he seems a most dangerous foe. Especially for the mademoiselle vampire with the gift of fire. I hadn’t even known there were fire users left…”

Tristan nodded and turned away to hide the sorrow that he suddenly felt. “Yeah.” The fae was right. Lucien could light Ash aflame with a mere thought. By his whim alone, she would be lost to him forever. And he couldn’t lose her now. N
ot now that he’d finally found exactly what he needed, longed for all along. The one thing to make him whole again.

MON Seigneur, s'il vous plaît.
Je suis sûr qu'elle est
.” Even with all of his prim and proper, Sebastian couldn’t hide his annoyance behind pretty words that Tristan didn’t understand.

Tristan stopped pacing long enough to give Sebastian a nasty sneer. “You do know I’m not like all the rest of the… whatever you serve. I only speak
one language.”

This was Ash’s thing to do, pacing the room like this. But she was still gone. Someone had to pick up the slack. Sebastian watched him tiredly from his seat in one of the small arm chairs tucked into a corner near the foyer. With the sofa missing there wasn’t much in the way of seating left, save a few armchairs scattered about the room and the desk chair. The whole suite reeked of burnt plastic and synthetic fabric. Sebastian had tried to open the balcony sliders, indifferent to the cold, but Tristan wouldn’t let him. Maybe it was really Tristan that needed airing out and not the room.

“She is fine, my Lord. I’m sure of this.”

“Yeah,” he snapped, “and how do you know she’s okay? Is your kind
telepathic?”

Sebastian frowned.

“Christ…” He scrubbed at his hair roughly. His mood wasn’t Sebastian’s fault. Not even after the whole naked-in-Tristan’s-bed incident, Sebastian wasn’t the one he was mad at. It wasn’t even Ash’s fault. It was his own. That’s right, Tristan was to blame.

Or Lucien…

Still, the fae’s nonchalant manner just plain pissed him off. Really, what could be keeping her? It was already two hours after dusk. Did Lucien find her? Surely she could handle him alone… maybe, if he didn’t wield fireballs the size of beach balls.

Sebastian shrugged lightly. “She is vampire. She is creature who walks the night and can go unnoticed should she choose.” He looked tired, but still managed a sly smile. “Of course, if she is still in the nude, I can’t imagine how anyone would not notice her.”

Tristan huffed and gave him a nasty sneer. “Do you even know anything about us?”

The other man frowned, but like every other time something about it wasn’t quite right. Like the guy wasn’t sincere. “Non,
mon seigneur.”

“Christ, I really hate that you call me that…” Tristan took up pacing again. He was starting to understand why Ash did it—helped him focus a little more, to think. If he paced instead of being stuck in one stationary spot, he was less likely to be distracted by something, or someone.

“Hey,” he said coming to a stop before Sebastian. “Who were those fox last night? You talked to them, did you know them?” That’s right, he wanted to change the subject. But more than that, he really wanted to know.

“Not that skulk, no. But I am rather acquainted with the French skulk.”

“So there’s more.”

This time when the fae frowned it looked sincere. “Oh yes,
mon seigneur. Many across the world. Though, I must say, their presence was a surprise. I’ve never met a kitsune who would willingly leave their home.”

“They were looking for something.”

The man nodded. “Oui. But what, they wouldn’t say.”

Tristan remembered Ash saying something, but it sounded Japanese and he didn’t recognize the word. “Great,” he sighed and started pacing again.

“They will not come here again. They don’t wish to harm you or mademoiselle.”

Tristan shot him a look and then stopped when he saw the determined expression Sebastian was giving him. “What?”

“What is it you really want to know, mon seigneur?”

“What’s shinwa?”

The fae flinched in his seat, looking utterly shocked and a bit confused. “Mon seigneur?”

“Look. I’ve heard the word a few times and I kind of get that it’s a classification for… for things like you. And the vampire. But what is it exactly?”

The other man’s green eyes bore into him for so long and hard that Tristan finally felt uncomfortable. “If I may, mon seigneur, be candid.”

He groaned, tossing his head back. “Crap on shit. Yes, Sebastian.”
When he turned to face Sebastian again the man was smiling, eyes shining with amusement.

“Thank you.” His smile softened to nearly nothing, but there was a trace of laughter in those green eyes. “
Mon seigneur—Tristan. I must admit that I am rather… confused.”

Tristan only raised his eyebrows in question.

“I thought you to be a shinwa. Am I wrong?”

“What? Me a shinwa?”
I don’t even know what I am
…

“I thought perhaps, at first, that you might be vampire and then quickly
realized that that was simply not true. Then I was thinking you were human, but the things you… I cannot fully put my belief into you being human either.”

“So what’s your theory now?”

“Lycanthrope.”

“What, like a werewolf?”

“Oui. Granted, your eyes are all wrong, but that sort of thing is so easy to disguise in this day and age.”

Tristan shook his head, not knowing where to start. “I’m not a werewolf. Or any other shinwa.”
I don’t think
. “I don’t even know what they are.”

“There are seven. While extraordinary in appearance, most can pass for human and the human race thinks little of nothing of them. Like myself."

That was true enough. The guy, this fae, looked perfectly human. If it weren’t for Tristan’s questionable lineage and recent introduction to vampires, he wouldn’t have even sensed anything out of the ordinary about the guy. “What do you mean, most can pass for human?”

A single, sculpted eyebrow rose. “I take it you have never seen a troll before.”

“You've got to be fucking kidding,” he muttered.

“Afraid not,
mon seigneur. Disgustingly putrid creatures, but shinwa, none the less."

Tristan grumbled something about the “Lord” title, again.

Sebastian let out a short breath and shook his head. He held up his hand, fisted. “You only need to worry about the three main food groups. Animal,” he said, counting with his fingers, “human, shinwa.”

Tristan let out a curt laugh. “Funny... you’re funny.” He started pacing again. His back was to the other man when he asked, “I think you got your food groups wrong.” He turned, taking in the confusion on the man’s face. “Isn’t there one more?”

“One more? I don’t—Oh, the pythia. Yes, well, they are in a group of their own, but generally thought of as human.”

Now that was something.

Sebastian’s face suddenly fell and there was a hint of something in those green eyes Tristan wasn’t expecting: fear. “Don’t tell me you’re one of pythia.” The man’s voice was soft and breathy. He really was afraid.

Interesting. He’d have to remember to ask Ash more about these pythia.

Tristan licked his lips. This wasn’t the person he wanted to have this conversation with, but if he was one of Yuki’s, it stood to chance that he might know of the Uruwashi and be able to tell him something. Anything. “Ever heard of the Uruwashi?”

The fae put a slender hand, that despite his servitude was smooth and
unweathered, to his chin as if in deep thought and mumbled, “Uruwashi?”

Watching the man think, Tristan wondered why Yuki hadn’t told him who he was. Then again, her favorite, Desmond, didn’t even know until Tristan let it slip. Maybe the old bat really was looking out for him. He almost laughed. But then Sebastian jerked in his chair as if some great, earth-shattering epiphany just kicked him in the nuts.

“Mon Dieu! I know of the Uruwashi…” The breath left him in a shocked sigh as he looked up at Tristan with new interest. “They are said to be extinct.”

“Yeah well, you’re looking at the last one, pal.”

The fae blinked up at him, tilting his head to the side. Tristan felt like a zoo animal on display. “Simply amazing. I never thought to meet an awakened Uruwashi in my lifetime. Why to meet any—”

“You haven’t,” Tristan interrupted and then silently chided himself for it. Why the hell was he giving up all his secrets to this man? Sebastian, while annoying, just had this way about him. Tristan wanted to tell him. Talk to him. The fae seemed more than forthcoming and Tristan respected that and hoped to learn something of the world he lived in. To learn something of himself.

The fae frowned like he didn’t believe Tristan. “Pardon?”

“I—” He stopped and sighed. Guess there was no taking it back anymore. “I’m not bitten.” Oh, right, and not 100% Uruwashi either.

“I don’t understand. Your Mast—”

“Whatever Ash is
to me… she’s not my Master. We’re just… hell, I don’t know what we are. But she’s never bitten me. Not once.” Not awake anyway. Hell, even the dream bite only happened that one time. Ash was far more careful than not. Which still left him utterly confused as to why she nearly fucked him yesterday. Not that he didn’t enjoy it…

“I see,” Sebastian answered, nodding his head s
lowly. “To make a full-fledged Uruwashi, the bloodline carrier must be bitten.”

Yeah and therein laid one of his problems. Tristan started pacing ag
ain, walking deeper in the space. He gathered his hair in both hands at the back of his head and stopped for a moment, staring into his room and seeing Ash’s things. When was she coming back? Would she? He groaned, dropping his hands and resumed his march.

“It’s fine. I may be human…
ish
, but it doesn’t stop me from hunting naughty little vampires.” He turned, seeing Sebastian’s inquiring look. “What? It’s the duty of the Uruwashi, awakened or not.”

“Then you and madam vampire are a rather queer couple.”

Tristan laughed a short, curt sound. “Yeah. No shit.”

Sebastian stood, giving his legs a little stretch before turning away. “
Pardon. It is none of my business.”

“Have you…” The fae stopped and turned to look at Tristan who was staring off at nothing. “H
ave you ever wanted something so badly that you’d do anything to have it?”

“
Mon seigneur?” the other man asked in a soft voice.

Tristan looked up slowly, meeting Sebastian’s compassionate green eyes. “Have you ever needed someone so badly that no matter how aggravating their faults you can’t help but be drawn to them? To the smell of their skin, the delicate touch of silk fingers, the soothing words whispered into your ear when you’re scared or down. The very idea of them being lost to you is no different than the idea of death. Complete and absolute...” He sighed. “Ash may be a vampire, but she’s still a person. She still feels.” Sometimes too much.

Sebastian let out a slow, shaky breath. His voice was soft and a little breathy as he said, “I have never been in love myself, but I understand what you are saying.”

Tristan’s jaw tightened. There was that word again. Seemed like an awful lot of it going around lately.

“You are right. You are still two people no matter your race, human, shinwa or… other.” The man seemed like he couldn’t bring himself to utter the name Uruwashi again. Or pythia for that matter. If Tristan wasn’t feeling like being alone now, he’d of grilled Sebastian for more info.

“I’m sorry, Tristan. I did not mean to make light of the situation, however, I still believe there is nothing to fear. Your lover is safe and will return to you soon. I am certain.”

Tristan nodded as the other man started to leave. “Hey.” Sebastian glanced over his shoulder from the doorway to the foyer that separated the living space with the other bedroom. “Do you consider Uruwashi one of your “food groups”?” he asked, making the little air quotes.

The other man’s expression we
nt hard and cold when he answered, “Top of the food chain, mon seigneur.” And with a little nod, he left Tristan alone to contemplate the meaning of that.

Silent and a bit dazed, he went to his own room and plopped down on the bed, laying himself out flat. Uruwashi were top of the food chain, huh? That would make him more powerful than even the vampires if that was true. Probably would have to be bitten though. Oh right, and not the mutt-whatever he was. God, he couldn’t even say he was half human, could he? If he wasn’t afraid of being locked up in a cage, he would have gone and gotten his DNA tested months ago.

He draped an arm over his eyes. He couldn’t believe he just said all of that stuff to Sebastian. It wasn’t like him to pour his heart out to anyone. Hell, he couldn’t even tell the one he cared for the most how he truly felt about her.

Why can’t I just tell her?

He sighed and sat up, looking around the room. Ash’s sexy pencil skirt and the blouse Tristan tore buttons from were draped on the arm of a side chair. A reminder, if any, that she was running the streets of Paris naked. What he wouldn’t give to be a random stranger catching a glimpse of something like that.

He got up from the bed and went over to the trunk. He hadn’t really looked at it before, but now, kneeling before it, it was fucking huge. Tristan could have crawled into it and had some room to move around in, which
was saying something considering his height.