Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Sengoku Otogizoushi - InuYasha nor the Dark Hunter series for they belong to Takahashi Rumiko, Sherrilyn Kenyon, and various other companies. I am merely borrowing their characters and ideas, but they will be returned in their original condition in three more chapters.
Warnings: AR for Inuyasha (Kagome never returns after three years); Set three years before Talon's book; mature content; mature language.


Darkling Winter
The Dark Horse

"Kisses are like tears: the only ones that are real are the ones you can't hold back."
Written as a gift-fic for Ryukotsusei


It had been one year since Kagome had moved from her family shrine in Tokyo, Japan to the vibrant and ever-changing streets of New Orleans, Louisiana, United States of America. Though both places were full of people and similar in many ways, nothing could touch the crowded streets of Tokyo, save for maybe Hong Kong. The lack of thousands of people crowded on the streets during all hours of the day and cleaner air were wonderful and welcome changes to her. Change was something she always needed these days.

After gaining her diploma after three years of high school, she had to get away: from the pollution, the Goshinboku, the hone-kui no eide that refused to work even three years after it returned her to her proper time, the friends who were not really friends anymore, and all the memories of a time that no longer existed and she could not return to again. Even her grandfather had understood her need to leave and start anew, for which she had been grateful. She could not move on with her life as long as she was pining over the past, surrounded by all the reminders of what had been.

She had worked hard in a business firm to save up money to buy the plane ticket and rent a quaint little loft in uptown New Orleans. She still technically was not a citizen, but she had a work visa that she managed to get renewed after the time was up on it. Now, she had a job as a waitress at Cafe du Monde and loved working there. Had she been in Japan, such a job would have been one of the very few still left open to her simply because of her grades and, more importantly, her sex. Neither were things she could change, but given her life now, she did not want to change a thing about her past. Even if she was stuck in a crummy job, though in Japan her day would not end after eight hours.

Well, perhaps there was one thing she would have liked to change: her ability to land herself in trouble of the supernatural kind no matter where she went.

And she blamed it all on one frequent customer who love beignets and dark coffee. From the moment she had started serving him, she had been in the wrong kind of trouble.

His name was Talon, odd though it was to her. (Yet it was not as if she could talk: she was named after a creepy children's song and game about a caged bird and betrayal.) He had something about him, some aura, that reminded her of Kōga in more ways than one. Yet Talon was more like an upgraded version of the wolf.

Kōga, new and improved! She always had to laugh in her head at her little American joke; a goofy smile being her only outward sign of her inner amusement.

Yet Talon had the same lewd character at times. When he used it to charm a willing bed partner for the night, it was twice as bad and twice as smooth. He had the same foul mouth, though funnier, especially when he was talking to someone called "Wulf". And he had a certain princely aura about him that made most pause if his European looks, ripped body, and charming mouth did not. Not to mention that he oozed sex.

Talon was quite possibly the only human she knew who could give Sesshōmaru a run for his money.

And yet, she would always tell herself that she had seen better every time she served him even when her racing heart and attracted body were saying differently. Honestly, she was a single young woman in her twenties: she could look, flirt and fantasize about him all she wanted without an ounce of guilt.

After all, they did not have that type of man back in Japan.

The downside to such a foreign man: notorious one-nighter. Mama would be so displeased with her if something like that ever happened. Not to mention, she would be more than upset with herself if something like that happened-she was not that kind of woman nor did she let others influence her in such ways with their aura. As if that was not bad enough, she had a feeling he was not exactly human. He was not yōkai, she knew that much. She could not figure out just what he was though. Sometimes, if she concentrated hard enough, it felt as if he had no soul. And she knew he was not stealing souls like Kikyō had done.

However there were others who were soul-stealing in the dark of the night. Perhaps they were not exactly stealing souls, but it was close enough for her to be on alert. Especially since they had been coming after her for her large soul. Or maybe they had hissed out "power". Her English still was not perfect, even after a year.

It led to her spending many of her nights wandering down dark side-streets near her home, hunting down the creatures who had come too close for her comfort. They had horrible curses on them, she could feel that much, but that was not entirely what drive them to what they were and what they were doing. She could not call them kyūketsuki, yōkai or oni. She could hardly call them akurei.

Perhaps she would leave it at ningen, given that she knew no English words to describe them.

A cold chill brushed across her back, causing her to shiver and the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. It always happened when one was near, though never to such degree. She rubbed her hands against the goose flesh on her bare arms. Having learned her lesson years ago in the Sengoku Jidai about wearing nice expensive clothing to battles, she dressed in as little as she could and in the cheapest things she had. Jean short-shorts, dark rinse, and an orange spandex tank top coupled with bare feet was her look most nights. She was thankful New Orleans was not all that cold, even in winter, just like Tokyo had been most times.

She was smart enough to not wear her current clothes during the day or on any major streets. Although, given her blueish eyes and hair undertone, orange was a very flattering color on her, it showed off more of what she would have liked of her breasts. Since it was spandex, it was its own bra most times, but on slightly chilly near-winter nights... Well, she was sure whatever she was killing knew she was cold before they died. The short-shorts did not help her either as they highlighted her long toned legs and showed off the bottom of her ass.

Oh, the things she wore all in the name of keeping streets clear of non-human creatures.

The one thing that separated her from the common street-walker (as Mama would say if she knew the word) was the saigo-yumi strapped to her back with a quiver of arrows. Twentieth century or not, she could still purify anything non-human with evil intent with just one arrow.

And someone was going to die tonight, very soon if her senses were correct.

When her hand wrapped around the curve of her bow, she was knocked to the ground. None of the things she had faced before had been that fast. She yelped as soon as she felt the unforgiving cement scrape against her body. Without having to look, she knew she had the beginnings of a bad case of concrete-burn. She did not have to time to moan over her wounds as whoever had knocked her to the ground, yet had not landed on her, was already on their feet.

She knew her quiver was broken from the force of their body, yet her saigo-yumi was still in one piece and gripped in her hand. Her arrows lay scattered through the alley, the ningen's boots snapping a few as he stepped on them in his trek toward her. A plan was beginning to form in her mind as his black boots came closer to her body.

"Well, well. How easy it was to bring you to the ground. How odd you've managed to kill so many of us and you still have a soul. No mark of the Dark Hunter either I bet." His voice confirmed her suspicions that he was, in fact, male. And what a deliciously dark tenor he had. Shame he had to die.

His feet paused in front of her face and she dared not look up. She could not afford to get lost in whatever beauty he had, as all the ningen she had killed were beautiful. It would ruin the plan she had. He sighed. "Though you have the exotic look down, you're far too short for her tastes." She could hear him bend down as he spoke. "Now, you have to die. Silly little girl, you should know not to play with creatures who haunt the night."

Grabbing the back of her shirt, he lifted her up. Her grip on her bow never loosened. When she was almost fully upright, she purified the arm holding her shirt with one swipe of her bow. Before he could get over the shock, she pierced his chest with the tip of it. She finally dared to look at his face, taking in the beautiful sight. Much like Talon, he had a chiseled face and darkly beautiful looks to match his voice. Really, such a shame he had tried to kill her.

She removed her bow from his body and slung it over her shoulder. "Perhaps you should take your advice," she said to the pile of ashes that sat where he had once stood. With all the things she had learned that night, she began salvaging what arrows she could still use. They were hard to find these days as archery was not popular.

Dark Hunters-what were they? And their marks: tattoos? Had she stumbled onto some sort of gang war? It felt too supernatural to be something so simple or human as that.

She hissed as her knees made contact with the side of a dumpster, aggravating the wounds she had forgotten she had. Now that she truly noticed them, they stung like hell especially with the dirt she knew had to be in the open wounds. Though her clothes had escaped unscathed, save for some dirt. Cheap, slightly tacky, yet durable.

"It figures. My skin took the beating, clothes are fine." She stood and brushed herself off as best she could. "Though, feet are OK."

She turned to leave the alley at the street entrance, but paused. Heavy footsteps were running towards her spot from that way. Had someone heard? With no second or third thoughts, she turned and fled down the back way. So much for coming home through the front door.


Heavy and large black Harley boots echoed throughout the alley. Leather black pants and a black motorcycle jacket with beautiful Celtic scrollwork in red and gold completed the late intruder's look. It was a typical biker look, that his face both complemented and contrasted. He had a young face with blond hair, and his eyes were deep enough to scare off most.

Talon stopped in front of the pile of ash that he knew belonged to a Daimon. It had been the twenty-third time in the past year that he had come across the scene. Sometimes there had been more ash piles, others only one. It was always the same: he would be called out, usually around this area now that he thought about it, only to discover that his job had already been done for him. He knew no other Dark Hunter was doing it as he would know if another was in the same city or as close by as he knew the killer had to be.

He eyed the broken arrows and the one intact arrow left behind. This was a new development. Whoever was doing the killing was most likely attracting the attention of the stronger Daimons. One could kill only so many of the weaker ones before someone got pissed. With critical eyes he crouched down and eyed the scene. The arrows had been broken from being stepped on, there was a little blood on the ground near the only intact arrow. He had his suspicions about what happened and how long ago as he reached out and took a handful of the ashes. Still warm despite the chill that was in the air.

He would guess the Daimon had been killed within seconds of his arrival.

So his ears had not been wrong: he had caught the tail-end of this fight. If he was not mistaken, his job-stealer was a woman, and his ears were never wrong when it came to women.

Brushing off his hands, he stood and pulled out his cell phone. Talon had the perfect job for Nick to do for him involving this mystery. He continued to eye the one unbroken arrow as he waited for Nick to answer. That arrow, he just knew, was going to be the key to unlock this aggravating case. Yet since the killer was female, it changed his plans and thoughts around about who had been doing his job.


By the next evening, Talon had nothing new to add to his little mystery. He was not stupid nor desperate enough to inquire on the Dark Hunter forum boards for answers. Like he needed that kind of ridicule at this point in his life. Thankfully night came earlier in the near-winter months and he did not have to wait as long to fulfill two of his loves: beignets and coffee. Two things he needed in order to collect his thoughts centering around the woman going around and killing things in the dark of the night that she really should not be messing with.

Nick had yet to call him back with any information on what he had uncovered. He was to stop by and drop off the arrow to see what the temporary squire could dredge up about who had made it and who had bought it. Were he a younger man with less control of his emotions, he would have no issues with causing Nick to have a little accident that resulted in his death if only to get a more competent squire.

"Your order, Talon-san." An amused, accented voice tore him from his thoughts.

He turned to look at his usual waitress for the past year, Kagome he knew her name to be. Normally he could not be bothered to remember a woman's name, but Kagome was not just another woman to warm a bed. Or rather, she could be, but he had a strong feeling she would relieve him of all that made him a man when he was not looking. Not to mention, she did a good job of appearing to not be attracted to him. She had a strong will, he had to give her that.

He liked that in a woman too much to just use her. Especially if he was to see her every time he wanted some decent beignets.

Kagome placed his cup of coffee down with extra care, pulling her hands away quick enough that he only caught a glimpse of a bandage. "Dark and bitter, just like the women you enjoy," she quipped. It had been a running joke between them ever since the first day they met. When she asked how he liked his coffee, he had told her that he liked it like he liked his women. It was the only teasing she engaged in with him. Again, normally he could not be bothered to mingle with humans to any familiar degree, but the large soul she possessed had even him on edge. Such a soul was sure to attract attention of all the wrong kind.

And he did count himself among the "wrong kind".

He pulled his coffee towards him. "The words you're looking for are strong and tasteful."

Kagome paused, deceptively appearing to think over his word suggestions. The twinkle in her unusual eyes for one of Asian descent told a very different story. She set down his beignet before she replied, "No, I don't think so. I think you need English lessons more than me." With a flippant wink and toss of her pony-tailed dark hair, she sashayed off to deal with other customers.

Or rather tried to. He picked up the small limp in her stride, along with the bandages he could make out wrapped around her knees through her work slacks. He picked up his coffee, intent on enjoying it in peace for a bit. Yet his hand paused half-way through its action as an unsettling thought took seed in his mind.

He set it down and looked over at Kagome, taking in all the things he had brushed off before about her. Those bandages... Were they not in the same spots he had a strong feeling his little job-stealing woman scrapped against the concrete last night? Had she not arrived around the same time he started finding only the ashes of Daimons? Not to mention that she not only had a large soul, but had some sort of odd aura about her that not even his limited mediumship could identify.

And he would bet his Snoopy Pez dispenser that she lived in the area where all the attacks were taking place.

Kagome, possibly feeling his gaze on her, turned to give him a curious look. She tilted her head to the side in a cute manner. With her looks and accent, it was hard to peg her as a Daimon killer. He had done his best to keep an eye on her when he could, even going so far to have Nick to look into her a year ago. Obviously he had not done his job as well as he claimed to have done-neither of them had.

She had been right beneath their noses the entire time. And he had one piece of evidence that would prove it all.

One arrow was all that was needed, he had been right to take it. All he had to do was wait for her shift to end, and he was going to get to her before she could go and piss off more Daimons. A human with a large soul killing such creatures was asking for far too much trouble.

Talon looked over at her one more time, seeing how easily she moved despite her injuries. She was either very good at hiding her pain, or she was used to functioning with wounds. He had a strong feeling it was the latter.

Finally taking a gulp of his coffee, he entertained the thought that she just might enjoy trouble.


Kagome heaved a sigh as she stepped out of Cafe du Monde close to eleven that night. Her breath billowed out in smokey clouds and she resisted the urge to wrap her thin black jacket tighter around her. The temperature had dropped significantly in the span of one day, much to her displeasure. She hoped none of those ningen decided to snoop too closely to her tonight as she had no desire to put on more expensive, though warmer, clothes and have them ruined. It never failed: the second she wore nice clothes to a battle, they were ruined in one way or another.

She had much more important things to spend money on. She honestly did not know how Mama had managed buying her new school uniforms as often as she had. Those uniforms cost much more than nearly every piece in her wardrobe these days.

Yet they were not thoughts she had to be concerned about. She sighed again and shook her head in an attempt to rid it of thoughts of the past. It was not as if she could truly be blamed: thoughts of fighting always seemed to bring up old memories of that time. How could it not? Too much blood and purifying creatures would do that to a person, she supposed. However it did not stop her from looking up at the night sky at the stars she could not see. It always brought reality back to her mind.

With one more heavy sigh and stuffing her hands harsher than necessary into her coat pockets, she began the lonely trek back to her place. She could never call it home-she could not call anywhere home-but she had hopes that one day she would be able to view it as such.

"Been bringing arrows to knife-fights, have we?"

She paused. The saying was lost on her, but the voice was not. Nor was his mentioning of arrows. Kagome closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. The last twenty-four hours really had not been kind to her, and it was not looking as if it would be getting any better.

Against her better judgments, she turned to her right instead of continuing on home. Talon was leaning against his "bike", a Harley if her memory served her correctly, looking as nonchalant as possible. Despite his habit of teasing her, there was a calmness, a depth that seemed as if nothing could ever pierce it. Not even his suspicions on what she was doing seemed as if they fazed him in any way, not with how easy he rested against his bike in his black leather. She immediately noticed an arrow in his hand, resting against his biceps due to his crossed arms. The arrow was hers, she knew by its feathering. Just as she had feared: she had left behind at least one good arrow in her haste to leave.

But she was not going to bite so easily.

She tilted her head in confusion at him, blinking her eyes owlishly. "I'm sorry... I don't understand the phrase."

He tapped the arrow against his arm, bringing her attention back to it. She feigned ignorance of it as best she could, but she had a feeling she had already been caught. Tensing at the mention of the word "arrow" was probably what did her in.

"You might not understand the phrase, but I'm sure you know exactly what this is about." He stood to his impressive height, an attempt to intimidate her into answering his questions she was sure. Only other, far more deadly creatures had attempted the same and failed. As if someone so human would be capable of intimidating her, not after all she had done and seen.

And yet, an off-hand warning from Sango echoed in her mind. "The yōkai to be feared the most are the ones who appear human." Though Talon was not yōkai, it held some merit in it.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Again, I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

He narrowed his deep eyes at her and she resisted the urge to shiver again, though this time not from the cold. Had she been more normal and human, such a look would have frozen her in her tracks. Fear did grip her heart as she was familiar with such a look on such a man. One did not easily dip their toes into deep waters without some form of consequence, and she knew better than to taunt someone in his caliber. The last time she had, she had nearly been dissolved by dog drool. Noxious dog drool from a very big dog.

Just as she turned to leave before her mouth caused more problems, Talon spoke again, "I have a feeling that were I to look up who bought this arrow, it would come back to you." He paused before nodding his head at her. "Just like your wounds match up with the spacing of blood spots found in an alley last night. An alley I'm also sure would be close to where you live."

She shrugged again, offering a wave over her shoulder. "Perhaps. I'm sure it would with many other people. Though, that arrow is not Japanese, so you might not. Have a good night, Talon-san."

"You're pissing off the Daimon population here in ways I never could. Have to hand it to you."

"Daimon?" she asked, mentally cursing her curiosity that caused her to stop and voice her question. If she had not given herself away before, that one question did. Had she been able to get away with it, in more ways than one, she would have kicked herself. She did not have to turn around and look at Talon to know he had to have been grinning over his win.

Now he knew all he had to do was appeal to her curiosity to get any information unintentionally. Damnit.

Instead, she heard the tell-tale creaking of his clothes as he straddled his motorcycle. She turned around in confusion, unable to understand why he had put off the questions she knew he had to have. Why would he give her time to think up a good lie? (Never mind that she was a horrible liar, but the point remained.)

"Where do you live?" he asked.

She blinked. "Excuse me?" Her tone had a hint of incredulity as she crossed her arms. She snorted in amusement after a moment. "Tokyo, Japan, since you're so curious."

He revved his motorcycle with more force than was necessary, she was sure. "Your home, here." He glanced around at their surroundings. "Unless you'd like me to interrogate you on the street for all to see, you'll get on and we'll talk there."

Oh, she would love for him to interrogate her wherever. But she was more than certain he did not mean it in that way, a pity too. Ah no, she shook her head. Mama and her self in the morning would be disappointed, not to mention upset, with her if anything resembling the situation playing out in her mind happened. She wished he did not exude sex, then it would be easier to be nice and herself around him.

And there was no way she would let him know she saw him in that light. So she opted for an impertinent pout and a glare. "Why my place? Why not yours? You don't just make such demands of a woman."

With another penetrating glare from his deep amber eyes, he said, "Now."

This time, she decided to comply. Obviously she had pissed him off before she even started talking. She had no desire to try and break through his calm, deep demeanor that night. And the fact that she would be able to not only have her hands gripped tightly around his waist, but she would be able to feel all the taunt muscles of his back against her were things to look forward to.

A fair trade-off, in her opinion.