White Lies: (The Uruwashi Series #4) (25 page)

“Xuejiao, you—”

“Xuejiao!” the familiar voice boomed from outside and Tristan’s eyes widened, his whole body running with goose bumps. His mouth opened and he was sure that he said Ash’s name aloud.

“Come face your judgment!” Ash’s voice boomed again.

Tristan was frozen in place, stunned. Was it really her? After four days of hell, he couldn’t hold onto any hope, but surely his ears weren’t lying.

Xuejiao looked up and he was taken aback at the pain in her expression. “Can I tell you something? Something true.”

“Ye—yeah,” he said still feeling a little lost.

“Everyone I’ve ever killed in the forty-two hundred years as a vampire—”

Tristan gasped, taking a stumbling step back at hearing her true age.

“—not a one was an innocent. Every single person I’ve ever killed had been bad. They deserved to die. And because of their wickedness, I’ve never tasted a single drop of their evil blood. I only feed on the innocent and never to the point of their death.”

“But you—”

“Yes, I’ve tormented those I’ve killed but they deserved it. Amoral? Perhaps, but I enjoyed hurting them. Leaving them to be found was just careless and arrogant of me and now I’ll pay for my ego, but it’s okay because my conscious is clear. I will not die with innocent lives stolen on my conscious because there was not a one.”

Tristan wasn’t sure what to believe anymore but that he did want to believe.

“
Shī péi le
.” Xuejiao gave him one last sad smile and opened the door, stepping out into the world beyond.

IT WAS like a scene out of an old Frankenstein movie. Torches jutted out of the snow all around the field, cutting into the darkness with a fiery audacity. There were people all around, or more accurately, vampires. And every one of them was old enough to make Tristan’s blood boil with excited tension. He gasped, feeling short of breath at the sheer power.

There were too many to pick out individuals. Every member of the mob wore a mask. Many were noh masks, new or old, traditional or something more artistic, but others wore ornate Mardi Gras masks, or simple unadorned masks; there was even one of those creepy black plague doctor’s mask. Every single one of them hid their face. All but one, that is.

Ash stood at the forefront, a cold unmoving sentinel wearing a cloak and scowl, mask propped on the top of her head. It took everything in Tristan not to run to her. If he could run at all with his knee still jacked up.

At her side, Desmond was easy enough to recognize in his rabbit noh mask and kilt with that huge ass claymore slung over a shoulder. And next to him, Yuki in her familiar kitsune mask with her arms crossed over her chest.

A lump in Tristan’s throat blocked his words and he felt keenly sick. Too many, there were just too many vampires in one place so that instead of the usual randiness he just felt overwhelming sick. He fell to his knees in the snow, gasping for air and trying not to puke or hyperventilate.

Ash reacted, maybe only Tristan saw it but then Xuejiao put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Whatever else she did, he was grateful for since the pressure of the others eased the instant her fingers found bare skin and he could focus again, just a little.

“Are you my welcome committee?” Xuejiao called out to the crowd.

Someone answered in French and Tristan’s eyes searched the crowd for the owner of the familiar voice.

Xuejiao let out a low laugh and marched out into the field to face the others and Tristan groaned at the relief she took with her. Her attention went to one person in particular, just another faceless vampire in the crowd. “I
knew
you weren’t dead.”

The man in a full face mask standing next to Ash bowed his head, chuckling softly.

“Netty?” Tristan whispered, recognizing that laugh and the man put a finger over his lips. As if the Viking outfit and braids didn’t give him away.

Innokentiy addressed Xuejiao though he was clearly watching Tristan. “Sorry we have to part like this. You know I never held any ill will against you but your crimes, we can no longer overlook them.”

“Yes,” she said coolly, “I know, but must we really do it like this? The age-old masked lynch mob… I thought our kind gave up that tradition decades ago.”

The man shrugged and Tristan imagined his not-so-sorry expression behind the mask. “Some things never change.”

“No, they don’t. Well, I can’t say I fault you, any of you and I go without regrets.”

“So then you give yourself up freely?” Ash asked but didn’t dare to look hopeful.

“With this sort of reception? No, that’d be a waste. I am practical after all, am I right? It’s how I’m perceived?”

Ash frowned but before her answer could be muttered, Xuejiao gave off a war cry that even the mighty Viking himself seemed surprised about. With dozens of highly tuned beings on edge, the shit hit the fan before Tristan could register what’d happened. And from the collective gasp it was before most everyone else could register as well, even with their higher senses. And then everyone was headed towards a central point, shouts and curses, oaths of destruction and come upends nearly deafening Tristan, pushing him into the earth.

Then the seikonō started to let loose. There were waves of ice and water, electrified gusts of fury and daggers of protruding earth all aimed for the tiny, nimble vampire.

“Stop!” Tristan cried out, finally finding speech only to scream a swear as the center of the action exploded and everyone was thrown back by the shock wave. For a crowd of vampires, they were slow to recover and Tristan sat up, staring in awe at the destruction a single vampire caused. Every single vampire was bleeding, or more rightly had their own blood on them, their lesser wounds already healed.

Feeling a surge of panic, Tristan looked down, patting himself. Not a scratch. That tiny, ancient being managed to hurt every single vampire here and miss him entirely—simply amazing.

All at once, everyone seemed to recover and move again. Tristan was just getting to his feet when he felt someone moving with intentions focused on him. He spun, brandishing his trusty kitchen knife and frowned at the vampire who stood just out of reach, staring coldly at him. Dammit, he should have thought about asking Xuejiao for his back-up katana back after… when the hell did he have it last, anyway?

It was Katrina, the strange fledging that he’d met in France. Although, “met” wouldn’t be entirely accurate since all they did was attack each other. He was sure the only reason he won that little tiff was because he’d had more hand-to-hand training than the young woman and the fact that she was severely limited by the full-body suit of armor she wore.

But what was strange about her wasn’t her piercing miss-matched eyes, one a bright green with amber flecks, the other a cool brown, but the way her apparent appearance clashed with how she felt. Yes, there was a fundamental fledgling flavor to her; she was no doubt very young, but deeper than that, she felt old at the same time. It was impossible, really, and Tristan just didn’t understand her. Neither had Ash, and that worried him the most. Now, three months later, the wrongness was even more pronounced with Tristan’s own evolving physiology.

“What the fuck are you doing here? You’re just a fledgling.”

The woman huffed and flipped blonde hair out of her face. “Yeah, and you’re just
human
. Ass. Give me a fucking break and get moving already, don’t got all fucking night.”

“Trina!”

They looked up to find her Master, Balian, glowering at them from around his mask—
stone
mask? He was talking to her telepathically. Of course, Tristan couldn’t hear him but he felt the emotion, only just a trickle around all of the other emotions clouding his senses, to know the Master was warning his scion.

“Yeah, I got it, I got it. Jesus, keep your panties on, man.”

To Tristan’s surprise, the gruff vampire smiled. And then he was in a piss-your-pants full out laughter. The others all stopped to turn and look at him, this manic vampire laughing his ass off in the middle of battle. Tristan stiffened, not liking that everyone was now watching him, their sworn enemy. He just had to hope they hated Xuejiao more than the Uruwashi.

Shit, he really needed to get away from here.

“Come on.”

There was a sudden tug on his arm and Tristan jerked at the hand holding him. “Jesus!” he hissed, trapped by the fledgling’s grip. There were just too many vampires around, shorting out his Uruwashi sensor, making it too hard to concentrate.

“Sorry, lady, but I’m staying right here.”

“She’s right!” Xuejiao called out as she slowly stood. For such a tiny person dwarfed by her larger counterparts she was an immense presence. “You should leave or else you might get hurt by accident.” Her attention shifted to the others near her. “Or on purpose.”

Tristan jerked on his arm and Katrina let him go with a nasty sneer. He only glanced at her before he pushed past the few vampires between him and Xuejiao. Just behind her he found Ash again; she was getting to her feet, a ribbon of blood down the front of her face from her scalp.

“This isn’t a trial,” Tristan said to her, the one person he could count on, “it’s an execution.”

“Of course it is,” that familiar French accent said and Tristan found Audric in the crowd still hidden behind his mask. It was the hair that gave him away, that long braid slung over his shoulder to rest across his chest—only he was wearing it more like a scarf right then. “She has broken one of our fundamental rules repeatedly. Killing is one thing but to flaunt it so…
mon dieu, c'est dégoûtant
.”

“Yes,” another faceless vampire, a woman with a thick Welsh accent, said. “He’s right. It is disgusting. Her very existence is an abomination, to make a
child
into one of us…” She hissed a word under her breath that was surely a curse.

Tristan shivered.
Abomination
. No, they were looking at the wrong enemy for that.

“Oh, come off it, Tegwen,” Xuejiao snapped.

The woman huffed and tore off her mask. She was striking with small features giving her a sweet disposition that her attitude ruined. “What sort of anonymity is there if you go about shouting our names, you wretched beast!”

Xuejiao was giggling, but it wasn’t a manic Yuki sort of laugh, but Xuejiao’s childish mien. What she thought she would accomplish acting like a kid in this crowd was beyond Tristan.

“What is there of anonymity when we all feel each other? At least Ash of Earth here has the balls to face me like an adult, an equal.”

Ash and Xuejiao exchanged a mutual nod of respect. There was a few dejected sighs and then the masks slowly started to come off. It wasn’t a mass exodus, but there were enough that gave Tristan a good idea of the crowd he kept. Almost everyone was focused on Xuejiao but there were straying glances his way by every single one of them. Yukihime flat out stared. Like she had something important to say to him and looked sick about it.

Interesting. And, fuck, who cares! It’s Yukihime, for Christ’s sake. She’d played her cards and lost. Her time was done. He was done with her.

“Besides… I know who your fledglings are, Tegwen, love. Don’t play the innocent card with me.”

The woman’s face reddened and next to her Audric looked uncomfortable as he moved away.

“Poor Julien, he thinks you hate him so he ran off to stay with the benevolent Audric.”

Tristan’s mouth dropped open. He just got it. That burnt-faced child he met in France was Tegwen’s scion. Julien was all of ten with thick dark curls that flopped over an eye patch and some gnarly scars. That made two scions that Tristan had met now that were scarred. For a race so concerned with beauty, it seemed like a high ratio to him.

“Yes!” Xuejiao said suddenly, turning to face him. “But Wrenny-poo was disfigured
after
his transformation, and on purpose.” She glanced at Desmond who looked away. “And Julien was disfigured before his death and a vampiric kiss given in a vain hope to save him.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, looking at one another as if this were the first they were hearing of boy vampire’s origins.

Tegwen gave a dramatic, tired sigh and lowered her forehead into a hand. “Must you air all of our follies and shames, Xuejiao? Hell’s bells, I’m not even supposed to be here.”

The small vampire only smiled, watching Tristan with a glimmer in her eye. “Only trying to remove misunderstandings.”

“Are you to say,” Ash said, stepping forward, “that we are misunderstanding you?”

Tristan could tell that Ash was fighting herself not to stare at him, rush to his side. She was nearly shaking with the same need he felt. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it, he needed her. He needed her more than anything in the world right then. “And forever,” he found himself whispering.

Xuejiao gave Tristan a look up and down, winked at him and then turned to face Ash. “Of course. I’m the most misunderstood of you all. But your assessment of my crimes is true.”

Tristan sighed, slumping. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

She turned to him again. “Not in the least. But I prefer honesty, don’t you?”

He sighed again. “Yeah…”

“And my honest sentiment is of regret. I’m sorry for what I put you through, Uruwashi, but it had to happen.”

Tristan stiffened at hearing the name of his ancestors spoken and the waved of unease he felt from the vampire crowd as they reacted. The truth was definitely out, to everyone. There was no doubt now in the eyes of all those vampires watching Tristan, just who he was. The damned, the Uruwashi.

The enemy.

He took a step back even as Ash moved closer to him.

“Ash,” he pleaded again. “This can’t happen. Not like this.”

She stepped around Xuejiao and stopped close to him and he felt the crowd bristle at their overly familiar proximity. Xuejiao was smiling at them.

“It must, my love,” she said to him in a low voice, full of remorse. “She is too strong for just you and I, even for,” she nodded her head towards Innokentiy. “Vampire do not get along in groups like this but only when there is a grander purpose.”

“Brutally killing one of your own!”

Ash took a moment to let him calm, take a breath herself. She was looking at him, straight in his eye, but she was no doubt as aware of the others all watching as he was. “Should we let her go?”

Her question was serious but he still felt as if she was pandering to him.

“We… no, she can’t.”

“Then what other options do you see, my love?”

He huffed, glancing up at the crowd fixated so intently on him. “I—I just don’t know. But this isn’t right.” Why was he protesting so hard to keep her alive? After what she’d done, she had to die. He knew it with a certainty. But he also believed that she should live, just not
why
.