Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin characters, I'm just borrowing them for a bit.

Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed – Lolo popoki, Nekotsuki, IKnowNot

CHAPTER TEN

The siren call of blood drew Tsubame up the stairs. She climbed slowly, one step at a time, closer and closer to all that nourishment. Her hand slid along the polished wood of the banister, and Tsubame had the curious feeling that it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground, that if she'd lifted her hand from its tactile connection, she'd float up the stairs.

At the top lay a long carpeted hall extending in either direction, but it was to the right that the blood smell came. Tsubame drifted right, feeling her fangs extend and press into her lower lip without consciously making them do so. Several rooms had light showing under their doors, but only one had the sound of splashing. Only one had the smell of blood.

Turning the knob with a trembling hand, Tsubame pushed the door open. Before her lay a freestanding Victorian claw footed bathtub with a separate shower stand next to it. The stand was stainless steel and had a modern looking hand held shower head attached to it. The spigot on the tub itself was older, made of blackened metal, and from it dripped a trailing stream of red.

The woman in the tub had her back to Tsubame, and was cupping the liquid blood in her hands, and bringing it to her chest to splash over her shoulders. Golden curls were swept off her neck by a brown plastic hairclip.

"Kent? Are you finished already? I told you not to come in here until…"

The woman in the bath turned her head to look over her shoulder and caught sight of Tsubame. Big blue eyes flew open wide, and then resumed a more natural shape as first shock, then calculation entered them. She turned around completely in her bath, allowing the blood level to dip almost completely off her bosom, but Tsubame wasn't interested in the human's breasts. It was the preponderance of blood pooled under them that riveted her.

Noticing, the woman cupped a portion of it in her hand and raised it up to the level of her chin. Her eyes rounded alluringly. "Want some?" she asked in a lilting voice.

Tsubame wrenched her gaze from all that blood and looked at the woman. She was familiar. She was the one they'd been interviewing on the local TV news show; the one Yahiko said had fake breasts.

"You can have all you want, you know. I don't need all of this." Her voice was charming, lulling. The blonde woman spread her fingers and allowed the blood in her hand to drip back into the tub.

"Why?" Tsubame whispered. "Why all this blood if you aren't going to drink it?"

The woman pursed her lips in a mock pout, then leaned back against the white of the bathtub. "For my skin, of course. I don't want to get old and wrinkled until after I've won all the pageants. I'm going to be the most beautiful woman in the world, and everyone is going to admire me." Her voice turned dreamy. "Everyone will look and me and know who I am."

Tsubame remembered what the old man with the dog had said, that this woman and her brother hadn't been allowed out of the house without a chaperone. He'd said that this woman had been a 'looker' and that it was a shame she'd been kept locked away in the house.

Evidently the woman thought it a shame as well, but all Tsubame saw was a colossal ego cloaked in loveliness. Perhaps the great-aunt had seen that too.

"Why are you looking at me that way?" The woman's voice was playful, petulant. "You're a vampire, I can tell by those fangs of yours. Come."

She splashed a wavelet of blood in Tsubame's direction. "Drink your fill. Slake your thirst a bit and then we'll talk."

"Talk?" Tsubame swallowed. The smell of all that blood close up was making her lightheaded.

"About how you're going to help me become Miss Universe, and Miss America, and all the other titles I'm going to rack up." The blonde lunged forward in her bath and crossed her arms on the edge of the tub, leaning her chin on the point where her wrists crossed. "You bring me girls, the younger and prettier the better, drink whatever you need, and I take the rest. My brother Kent will dispose of the bodies so you won't have to. It's the perfect plan."

"You kill for beauty?" Tsubame whispered incredulously.

The woman's eyes, crystalline blue, stared back at her with a slight question. She really had no conception of right or wrong. There wasn't even a pretense of remorse for what she'd done, for all the deaths she'd caused. Nothing mattered to her but winning, and being admired.

Staring into those remorseless, pitiless eyes, Tsubame realized she was looking into the soul of a true monster, and knew what she had to do.

OOO

She woke in the back seat of Sanosuke's car, blood smell on her face, chest, and hands. Even the tips of her hair were coated in it. She was wrapped in towels and lying in Yahiko's lap. When her eyes opened to the sight of the car seat in front of her, Yahiko was just finishing his sentence.

"…sure the police will buy it?"

"Why wouldn't they? Humans are always getting themselves in the news for murder suicides. And they were both nuttier than a fruitcake," came Sano's reply.

"Do not worry, Yahiko." Battousai's voice was calm and even. "I hypnotized the man to write a very convincing suicide note then shoot himself in the head." Tsubame saw him lift a wrist; glance at the watch on it, then let it drop. "He should be doing so now."

Tsubame shuddered slightly, and wiped her mouth against the towel beneath her, feeling Yahiko's knee.

"Hey, you OK?" he asked.

She tried to get up, but his hand gripped her shoulder. "Wait, we're still in traffic. We're almost there."

Blinking she looked at the blood crusted on her hands, and under her fingernails and shuddered again. Of course she couldn't sit up, not looking he way that she did. Tsubame longed for the motel room, or more precisely, for the bathroom. She wanted to scrub the blood off of herself, and felt sick as she flashed back to the woman in the bathtub.

She'd killed her. She'd taken a human life. She'd broken her vow not to harm humans. Tsubame covered her face with her hands and tried not to smell the blood on them, but it was all over her. Pressing her lips together, she wished she could still cry, but tears, like sweat and urine, no longer came.

The car pulled to a stop and over the blood smell she picked up the familiar scents of the motel. Old cigarette smoke, the disinfectants and cleaners from the housekeeping cart, and the dandelions that grew in the crack of the asphalt in front of their room all melded together in the smell that had become home to Tsubame for the past week.

Only the reassuring weight of Yahiko's hand on her shoulder kept Tsubame from ripping through the car door and racing to their motel room.

"I think you should get Miss Tsubame inside as soon as it's clear and get her washed up." Battousai said.

"I will," Yahiko promised, "but what about you?"

"I'll be talking to Sanosuke then leaving."

"So soon?" Tsubame heard the plaintive note in Yahiko's voice, and she felt his disappointment as clearly as if it were her own.

"Hey brat, the Battousai is an important guy. You can't expect him to hang around a Motel 6 in San Jose for the rest of his life." Sano drawled.

"I know that!" Yahiko burst out angrily.

"I'll be in San Francisco for a few more days," Battousai told Yahiko. "My wife is returning from a business trip in Japan. Perhaps if Captain Sagara doesn't need you, you can visit me at the Fairmont Hotel, but for now, take care of Miss Tsubame.

Yahiko's hand tightened gently on her shoulder. "I will," he said again.

The sound of the cleaning cart trundled away as another motel door opened then closed.

Yahiko got out their door key from his pocket, reached across Tsubame, and pushed open the car door. Tsubame reared up to let him out first, then grabbed the bloody towels around her and shot through the motel room door as he opened it. Without pause, she continued on to the bathroom, letting the towels fall to the floor as she threw herself, fully clothed, into the shower and let the blessedly cold water break over her. The shower could only clean away the blood, not the memory of what she'd done, but it would have to do.

OOO

"So, when do you want me to make the anonymous tip?" asked Sano once the younger vampires disappeared into the motel.

"I must go now if I want to make it to San Francisco by dawn. Do it now."

Sano got out his phone and pressed 911.

"You'll have 60 seconds before they can triangulate your position," Kenshin reminded him. "And I assume the phone is in a false name?"

Sano smirked, "Of course." He'd thought Mick E. Mouse was one of his cleverer pseudonyms, but before he could tell Kenshin about it, the operator picked up.

"What is the nature of your emergency?"

"Hey," Sano put a drunken accent on the words, "I was out walking on the golf course by that church on Alder Drive and I heard some shots. You should go check it out. It's that house right by the church. You know, on Alder. Yeah."

Snapping the phone shut, Sano turned to Battousai. "How was that?"

"Good." The red head said simply, and held out his hand. "I will dispose of the phone on my way to the hotel."

Shrugging, Sano handed it over. It's not like he could use it again now that the number was on the police's radar. He watched Kenshin put the phone in his pocket, and suddenly, like Yahiko, he didn't want him to leave.

"Yahiko's going to miss you, you know."

A glint of something, humor? Caring? shone in the vampire's violet blue eyes as he reached for the door handle. "I have a feeling I will be seeing him again soon. Take care of him, Sano."

Sano nodded, and the assassin bowed his head, got out of the car, got into his own rental car and drove away. Leaning back against the headrest, Sano reached up and touched his forehead where he'd tied a strip of cloth over the sunburn that marred him. Yep. It still hurt.

Now he'd have to call Sagara and…wait. He'd just given his phone to Kenshin. Damn. Sighing, Sano turned the key in the ignition and went to go find a payphone.

OOO

Tsubame left her dress hanging over the shower rail to dry. Wrapping a towel securely around her torso, she left the bathroom and walked into the motel room.

"Tsubame."

Yahiko was sitting on the edge of Sano's bed flipping idly through TV channels when she came out of the bathroom. As soon as he saw her, he clicked the TV off and scooted over, making room for her on the edge of the bed, eyes filled with concern.

Hesitantly, she walked over and sat down, staring at the black TV screen. Even with all the blood washed off of her, she could still remember how it felt. She should have been disgusted with the memory, but she wasn't. That scared her more than anything else. Yahiko had been talking, but she'd tuned him out until she felt the palm of his hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently.

"Tsubame? Are you listening to me? Are you OK?"

"Yes," she said softly, and looked over at him. "What did you say again?"

Yahiko looked at her. His brown eyes were the kindest things she'd seen in years. They helped dim the memory of the cold blue eyes of the beautiful beast she'd killed.

The hand he'd used to shake her remained on her bare shoulder, but it turned so that his palm cupped the back of her shoulder. His other hand came up and grasped her other shoulder, turning her so that she faced him squarely.

"I said it's over now. The police will take care of the rest. You don't have to worry about it anymore. You can come home with us to L.A. I'll tell you everything you need to know about being a vampire. I'll make sure you're alright, I promise."

Shaken, Tsubame searched Yahiko's eyes and saw that he was sincere. "Why would you do that for me?"

"I…" Yahiko began, then instead of finishing his sentence, his fingers tightened on her shoulders and he began to lean forward.

It would have been easy for Tsubame to twist away, or to bring an arm up to block him, but a strange lassitude seemed to steal over her. She waited calmly as his lips touched hers. They moved slowly, reverently against her mouth, and she found she'd closed her eyes and softened against him. As the kiss went on, Yahiko's hands moved from her shoulders, to her back, using his arms to hug her protectively without making her feel crushed or imprisoned by them.

Unconsciously, she began to lean in to the kiss, bracing her hands on the coverlet-covered mattress. As she did so, she felt a tugging sensation on the towel at her chest. She realized that the heel of her hand was on the edge of the towel wrapped around her by her legs, and it was pulling the towel loose from where it was tucked around her chest.

Drawing back abruptly, she drew her hands to her bosom, and caught the towel just before it came completely undone. Yahiko's arms dropped away from her.

"I'm sorry!" he yelped. "I shouldn't have…"

"It's OK, I thought the towel…" Tsubame said at the same time.

They stopped and looked at each other.

Yahiko looked away first. He fisted his hands against the coverlet. Taking a deep breath, he seemed to gather his wits together, then let the breath out and spoke, carefully not looking at her.

"You should learn to do that, you know. Lots of vampires use seduction to get blood. If you can't steal blood from a hospital or a blood drive, you need to know how to get a human to give it to you willingly. Either that or hypnotize them so you can take it and they'll forget all about it."

He stood and walked over to the T.V., turning around to look at her, his face carefully blank. "I want you to survive, Tsubame."

He'd pulled away from her when he thought she'd rejected kissing him. It wasn't what Tsubame intended, but it's what happened. She should tell him she didn't need his help. Pushing him away was logical. She wasn't going back to Los Angeles with him, she was returning to the wilds. She ought to tell him that.

Or she could tell him the truth.

She opened her mouth and the words spilled out.

"But I don't want to drink human blood. I don't want to kiss anybody but you."

Ashamed at how forlorn and pitiful the words sounded, Tsubame tucked her chin to her chest and stared down at her hands, clasped together in her lap. The more she was around Yahiko, the more she reverted to the shy girl she'd been before she'd become a vampire. He made her feel weak, and flustered, because it mattered to her desperately what he thought of her. He probably thought she was an utter fool.

"Tsubame." Her name sounded sweet and beautiful when he said it. Concentrating, she tried to decipher the tone in his voice. Was it pity or tenderness that she heard?

She was just raising her head to see Yahiko's expression when the door burst open and Sano wandered in.

"Hey. I talked to Sagara and he wants us to come back to L.A. tomorrow." He stopped midway between the door and the TV and looked back and forth between Yahiko and Tsubame. "What?" he asked, when they didn't respond.

Not getting any satisfaction there, he fell back on familiar tactics. "So Tsubame," he smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leered at her. "That's a new look for you, isn't it?" He nodded at her towel. "Looks good on you."

Tsubame turned her face away and went to go sit at the chair by the window, pointedly ignoring him, and sitting with her back to the room.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." Yahiko's disgusted voice sounded behind her, and she heard the bathroom door slam.

"Geez, everybody's so touchy today." Sano grumped and soon the strains of a game show theme song lilted through the room.

Tsubame sat quietly, ignoring him, and made her plans.