"You lost her?" Kanryuu snarled.
"Temporarily misplaced."
That can't possibly be a sense of humor, the businessman thought darkly, staring down his Ubo head of security. The ring doesn't let him have one. Not at my expense.
But Shinomori didn't so much as flinch, even when Kanryuu played with the teak letter opener on his office desk. "We know where she is," the Okashira went on coolly. "We know who guards her. And we know they are strong and skilled enough to defend her from Virus." A fluid shrug. "A critical factor, given we are still rooting out infiltrators among the Beijings."
The thought sent a shudder down Kanryuu's spine; he, who hadn't feared anyone in years! He was too powerful to be threatened; too intelligent, delving into the modern world and the archaic powers of the Kin to combine them in ways neither side would have thought of alone. Ways that had gained him political power, money-making Spider's Web, and a modern, fully-equipped security force whose loyalty was mystically absolute.
And those metal monstrosities thought they would make him fear them? How dare they! "How can you be certain you've found all the infiltrators?"
"Virus can feed on Kin, but Kin cannot feed on Virus," Shinomori said coolly. "Therefore-"
A gust of wind, and sharp pain pierced his neck.
Kanryuu struck out at the assault - only to touch air, as the Okashira blurred back to a stop on the other side of his desk. "You bit me!"
"Your standing orders are to permit the Yakuza to believe the Oniwabanshuu still protect their interests in your operation," Shinomori said levelly. One drop of blood still clung to a fang, before he licked it away. "Their upper ranks will already be... upset... at the number of deaths Battousai has wreaked among the Infected Beijings, and the further fatalities we will have to inflict on any business they have touched. My onmitsu must be able to report that you have been cleared as well."
Touching the healing marks on his neck, Kanryuu saw red. To think he ranked no higher in the bosses' estimation than a lowly street thug of a Beijing!
Patience, the businessman told himself, with the same fierce drive that had brought him this far. Soon you'll have what you need to build weapons not even Virus can stand against. "The Kurogasa blade?"
"Located." Something dark moved in green eyes. "And we have acquired an unexpected asset in retrieving it."
"Oh, really?" Kanryuu smirked. Shinomori hadn't wanted to tell him that; he could see that in chill, emerald hate. Which suited Kanryuu just fine. His Okashira, his ring-bound slave, had dared to raise a hand against him. For that, he would pay. "Do tell."
"A minor lab technician," the Okashira reported. "The operation will still require careful timing to ensure success, but access to security should be guaranteed."
"He or she?"
The Okashira stiffened.
Oh, what glorious fun. "He or she?" Kanryuu repeated, letting each word linger on his tongue to taste the pain in Shinomori's eyes.
"She."
And you're trying to protect her? Kanryuu licked his lips. Oh, this is fun. "Bring her to me."
"That would be an unnecessary risk," the Okashira said dispassionately. "Currently Target Alpha has no reason to suspect she might be compromised. The odds of our success will drop drastically if she is... tampered with."
"The odds are your problem. I said-"
"Not only would we lose a valuable source," Shinomori cut him off, "but the very level of her access would cause them to take drastic measures to secure the lab and its contents. Considering the difficulties Target Alpha had in securing the blade to start with, it would be the first item moved. Likely to the Washington headquarters, where we as yet have few resources and no inside agents."
Kanryuu chuckled, darkly pleased. "Very logical. As always." He tested the tip of sharpened teak with the pad of his finger, studying the Ubo through the edge of his glasses. "Well, if you can't bring me her... you'll just have to bring me someone who looks like her, hmm?" He tilted his head. "Or like our dear Takani. I don't care which."
Except that by which one you bring me, I'll know who your true weak point is.
Inclining his head, the Okashira turned to go.
"Oh, and Aoshi? I will want you to discard the refuse afterwards." Kanryuu smiled. "You know how to clean a scene so well."
Pale fingers curled into fists, and the Ubo was gone.
Oh, you truly do hate me, don't you? Kanryuu laughed. How pointless. I own you.
His own deadly Kin, on a platinum leash. It was... thrilling.
Bring the girl soon, Aoshi. I want to have some fun.
Still, no matter how long it took, he could savor the knowledge that everything was going according to plan. Megumi wasn't here yet - but she would be. She would be.
"Oh yes," Kanryuu murmured, looking out at the darkness before dawn. "It's going to be a beautiful day."
---------
"Your standing orders are to permit the Yakuza to believe the Oniwabanshuu still protect their interests in your operation..."
Hidden in the shadows, Han'nya watched the Okashira stalk away from Kanryuu's office, through the corridors of what most would take as only an ordinary, tastefully lavish penthouse. Taut. Controlled.
Angry.
It's not a show.
Which made no sense. Whatever Shinomori might let Kanryuu believe, he knew where their loyalties truly lay.
As he knew that any of the Oniwabanshuu, given the chance, would have Drained Kanryuu in his stead, and so drawn their employer's rage away from Aoshi. Which would have been the proper thing to do; after all, the Okashira could simply assure Kanryuu that the errant Kin would be disciplined, then let the matter drop in private.
Yet he avoids that path, Han'nya thought. He always has. I believed it was only respect for us, that a true leader would not order what he would not do himself. He respects us, yes - but why did he feel that he, and he alone, should draw Kanryuu's wrath, rather than act as a proper onmitsu and lie that it was ever carried out?
Something is amiss.
But now was not the time to determine what. Ghost-silent, the Animate appeared next to his leader. "One might suggest we hire an Immortal Beloved."
"What...?"
That distracted, are you? The young one truly is the one you wish, then. "A local Kin escort service," Han'nya explained. "They specialize in appearing human, no matter what their clients do. There are many men in this city who wish to inflict pain, or even near-death, without running a risk of being charged with a crime."
"I doubt it will be near death," Aoshi bit out.
"That will cost extra," Han'nya nodded.
Silence, stunned and dreadful beside him.
"So long as he uses his body and not a Bane, it will not be permanent," Han'nya stated. "We will remove the corpse, and she will rise the next night. Well-paid for her trouble."
"Han'nya..."
"We all do as we must to survive," the Animate said bluntly. "There are far worse fates than being onmitsu of the Oniwabanshuu, my leader. You have seen this yourself."
"Yes." Aoshi winced.
"One might further suggest that we select one of their women who looks nothing like Misao," Han'nya went on, carefully casual. "After all, our employer hires us to attend to his security - and there is no reason to expose any part of our plans so needlessly, merely to sate his desire for pain." And to imagine your own beloved under Kanryuu's fists - that I will not do to you.
"How much did you hear?"
Danger shrilled warning along the Animate's nerves. He listened to it. "Our employer's... request."
"Good." Violet and platinum twisted.
Behind the mask, Han'nya went cold. He would have struck. He truly would have.
The Okashira, not Aoshi. Which was unnerving, given that Han'nya had always felt it was the remaining elements of the mortal personality that were least trustworthy. After all, was it not mortal fear that had cut their leader off from his own human kin?
The same mortal fear that drew him to take Kanryuu's punishment, instead of us?
It felt right. Yet it didn't make sense.
"So you believe this Battousai is an Elder Kin from Kyoto."
"I believe he is the Demon of Kyoto, yes; the Cement Dragon rarely lies," Han'nya accepted the change of subject, mind racing.
"It lied about stopping him," the Okashira pointed out.
"It said no assassin would strike," Han'nya said wryly. "There was plenty of killing, but no assassination."
Aoshi smiled thinly.
"Himura Kenshin, it named him - and among those who knew in the Bakumatsu, it was whispered Choushuu called him Himura Battousai." Han'nya frowned. "Yet at times, he seemed young."
"Seemed?"
"An intuition." Of the same sort that had whispered Aoshi might well strike him down to hide something he should not have overheard. "I cannot explain it. Yet." The Animate bowed. "I will seek further."
"Han'nya."
A heartbeat from vanishing, the Animate stopped. "Okashira?"
"If he is young... is he still dangerous enough to kill me?"
Han'nya hesitated. "If he were fresh, and unwounded... he might be, Okashira. He might well be."
"Hmm." A faint shadow of a smile crossed Aoshi's face. "Interesting."
Your nature has haunted you long enough! "You will not harm Misao-san, Okashira. No more than you would harm any of us."
"Han'nya, what-"
"You are Okashira," Han'nya said deliberately. "Leader of the Oniwabanshuu. She is Oniwabanshuu. You will not harm her."
Deadly silence. "She is," Aoshi said at last, "only a technician. You will tell no one otherwise."
This goes beyond fear, Han'nya realized. "Who threatens her life?"
Emerald was chill and deadly as knives of ice. "Learn who this Himura Kenshin is. I will know the nature of our enemies...
"And then we will see who is destroyed."
---------
"What do you mean, crime scene?" Yahiko Himura's voice carried all the way to the back room of Wonderful Things. "What the hell happened this time?"
"Yahiko..."
"Yeah, yeah... sorry, Officer..."
"Ah." Detective Alexandrea Eames grinned at her partner. "Our two comedians are here." She waved at the bloody spot currently being picked over by the Crime Scene Unit. "I can't wait to see what they have for a punch line."
Gloves still on, Detective Bobby Goren rose from his knees. "Split them up?"
"Oh, yeah." Alex shook her head. "Not that I think it'll do much good."
"They're tight," Bobby nodded. "You want Kenshin?"
"He does get nervous around ladies, doesn't he?" Alex nodded. "You going to be the sympathetic ear for the kid?"
"Might work." He fell into step behind her, heading for the front and the yellow tape. "And then again... ah, Mr. Himura. Do you mind if I have a word with your brother?"
"You two?" Yahiko growled. "Again?"
"Maa, maa." Kenshin gripped the teen's shoulder lightly, trying to peer past officers into the main body of the shop. "I doubt you're here over just a burglary."
"Well, my partner can tell you about that... Yahiko, would you mind...?"
Brown met violet; the redhead nodded slightly. "I'll be fine," he said softly.
Still grumbling under his breath, Yahiko stomped after Bobby.
Alex gave Kenshin a look.
Mild as milk, violet blinked back.
Right. Out-waiting Himura just doesn't work. "I don't suppose you can tell us where you were last night?" Alex asked dryly.
"Home," Kenshin shrugged. "We're closed Sundays. I was home, with Yahiko; we had dinner with Ms. Kamiya, Mr. Sagara, and Ms. Takani. Well, after I picked her up."
"Picked her up?" If Bobby's right, you had her in protective custody; you wouldn't have let her just walk out on the streets! Sagara's crazy, not stupid.
"Yes..." Kenshin ducked his head sheepishly. "One of Ms. Takani's old acquaintances dropped in on us rather suddenly, and invited her on a trip to Chinatown. She truly did not feel as if she could say no."
Is he saying... oh, hell.
"But it was dark, and she really didn't want to try and get back home alone, so she got in touch with me. We took the cross-town bus back. I can probably even tell you the number." He gave her a bright, innocent smile.
Oh, that's just not fair... Taking out a notebook, the detective quizzed him on specifics; time, bus, street, and so on. Not that she thought she would actually catch him in a lie. The man had obviously practiced his story until he had it cold.
Or - it wasn't a story.
He sounds like he's telling the truth, Alex thought grudgingly. Just not all of it.
So if Bobby was right, and Megumi Takani had turned witness against Kanryuu - sounded like somebody had tried to convince her otherwise.
And you stopped them? Alex couldn't hold a flicker of skepticism out of her gaze. Who do you think you are, Cordell Walker?
Of course, Texas Rangers didn't carry katana.
And neither is he. Right now. I think.
That thought made Alex pause and reflect, giving the supposed shopkeeper a quick once-over. Loose red shirt, off-white slacks, sandals... nowhere to hide a sword. Apparently.
Forget Cordell Walker. He'd have to be David Copperfield. "I don't see Ms. Takani here."
"She's probably still asleep," Kenshin admitted. "She truly looked exhausted last night. I think she's had a very bad few years, that she has." Red hair tilted, ponytail swishing along his shoulder. "What happened to my shop? I can see things fallen, breakage... yet it doesn't look from here as though anything was taken."
"No, nothing important," Alex said casually. "Just a man's life."
Violet widened, inexpressibly sad. "Oh, no." His hands spread, questioning. "Who?"
Alex gave him a tight smile. "I was kind of hoping you'd tell me."
Kenshin almost spoke, sighed, and shook his head. "I was not here, Detective Eames. I can't tell you what I don't know."
Two true statements that did not necessarily add up to, I don't know what happened. Alex stared at him.
Unrepentant, the redhead stared back.
He is a redhead, Alex realized, taking in the hint of freckle on pale skin, the fine red-gold of eyebrows. DMV photo swore he was a brunet.
Face is the same. Eyes are the same. Sagara, Kamiya, even Yahiko - they swear that is Himura.
But he's different.
"How did he die?"
The quiet question snapped her back to here and now. Alex almost frowned at Kenshin - but didn't, mostly because she wanted to stomp something so badly. DEA wasn't NYPD, but a cop was a cop. "The investigation's still ongoing."
"Of course." He inclined his head, accepting her right to say that. "But - was it here? It looks as though there was a struggle..."
A sense of impish humor ambushed her. "Actually, looks like most of your stuff was shaken down by the explosions."
"Explosions?" Kenshin repeated numbly. "Kuso."
A wicked grin snuck onto her face. "Wait 'til you see what they did to your door."
"My door?" Violet widened. "Oh no. Don't tell me..."
Still grinning, Alex led him under the tape; not near enough the bloodstain to contaminate the scene, but close enough to see bright sunlight streaming through where the lock should have been.
"Nnrgghhh..."
Fascinated, Alex watched fingers flex and clench, trying so hard not to bite into anything breakable. Houston, we may have hit the man's limit.
A hiss of exhaled breath, and Kenshin bent his head, red bangs hiding his eyes. "I just replaced that lock."
"I figured," Alex nodded, intrigued by the utter stillness in that level voice. Like the last snowflake drifting down, just before the whole mountain lets go.
"This really. Isn't. Fair."
Any second now...
Red shoulders slumped, and Kenshin sighed. "Is there any other way we can help your investigation, Detective Eames?"
...Fizzle? Alex took a half-step back, suddenly more wary than she would have been if he'd started screaming about how he was going to throttle Sagara and anybody connected with the DEA. Hair-trigger tempers were dangerous until you got them in handcuffs. People who could rein in what should have been a firecracker of fury - they were dangerous, period.
Interesting. Like the Chinese curse. "Exactly how are you tied in to the DEA, anyway?"
"Er... well..."
"Agent on probation, at the moment," a light British accent spoke up.
Alex jerked her head toward the slim young blonde who'd appeared almost out of nowhere, vaguely noting that Kenshin hadn't turned so much as a hair. He heard her coming? I didn't hear anything! "And you are?"
"Agent Natasha Falconi, Detective Eames." Tight leather jacket and black dog-collar notwithstanding, the blonde had a firm handshake and a sober demeanor. "I'm sorry it took us this long to get back to you, but, well, things got rather pear-shaped at the office... our own investigation is ongoing at the moment. Still-" she nodded toward the front of the store, where a grim Japanese man in suit and glasses was making his way under the tape "-Agent Uramura can fill you in on what truly happened last night."
---------
"So your brother just brought Ms. Takani back home on the bus?"
Yahiko rolled his eyes, leaning back against a small bare spot of wall. Weird; even with cops scattered through the place, the shop felt safer than it had since werewolves had burned out their old apartment. "For the sixth time... yeah."
"Fourth time, actually," Detective Goren observed. "And it just seems a little... odd. That she'd go off with these... people she knew... and then need a ride home." The tall detective smiled at him.
Not going to bite his ankles. Not gonna. "How am I supposed to know? Grownups do crazy things."
A slow nod. "And does your brother do - crazy things?"
What, you mean like picking up talking swords, biting people's necks, and getting mixed up to his eyeballs in Kin bad guys? "Kenshin? You gotta be kidding me." Yahiko kicked at a stray scrap of cardboard, not looking forward to the clean-up they'd have to do later. Does every Kin in the neighborhood have to try and wreck our place? "If he were any more straitlaced, he'd be a f- a damn corset."
"Sounds like that could be tough to live with."
"Eh..." Yahiko shrugged, still scowling. "I dunno. I mean, he was pretty clingy after the funeral, you know? Made me so mad - I'm old enough to take care of myself, damn it-" He shook off the spurt of temper. "He misses Dad. Me, too."
"Not your mom?"
Yahiko winced. "He and Mom... they tried to stay out of each other's way. What's on the grocery list, how's your grades, that kind of thing." He gave the detective a glare, annoyed when it just seemed to roll off. "What's that got to do with somebody busting into our place, anyway?"
"Honestly?" Goren looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening too closely. "I just like to know how people think."
Yahiko gave him a hard look, and shook his head. "You're weird."
"Yeah... yeah, I guess I am." Goren shrugged. "But then, I've pulled the report on your brother's mother. It's pretty... well. I've seen a lot of homicides, but that one was bad. I can see how he might feel like people could die on him if he doesn't do something drastic."
"Kenshin's not really a drastic kind of guy," Yahiko said wryly. "Not unless you count dumping tunafish on top of sliced apples." Or ripping up park benches to take out Inuits.
"I dunno," Goren echoed his words. "Taking off after a guy who kidnapped Ms. Kamiya with a sword - sounds pretty drastic to me."
"Ah... um..." Think, think, think! Got to be something you can do. Something you can say. "Kenshin!" Yahiko scowled at the blonde following his brother. "Who's she?"
"Agent Falconi," she nodded crisply as Kenshin moved in to knead Yahiko's shoulder. "Detective Goren. Good to meet you. I've heard many good things about the Major Case Squad, yourself and Detective Eames in particular. Speaking of which," Falconi glanced toward the back of the store, "I believe your partner wishes you present while she interviews Agent Uramura. Something about a few questions you had in regard to charge placement specifics?"
:She's a Sorceress, cub,: Battousai's chill thoughts trickled into his own. :You were mostly asleep the last time you met her... Natasha Falconi, ENO Liaison Officer for Target Alpha's New York division. An ally, for now - but be wary.:
Detective - tried not to tell him anything - too many questions, he makes my head feel all screwy-
:It's all right, Yahiko-chan. We're here now.:
Yahiko's fists clenched. Don't call me -chan!
:Yahiko-kun.: The chill wrapped about his anger, soothing it. :Easy. Easy, cub. Only keep your head, and keep your temper, and there is nothing this man can do to you. Or to us.:
But he's a cop!
A snowfall of silent laughter. :And it seems your brother is as well. You should hear the language he's using about that-:
:Don't you dare!: A rush of warmth came with Kenshin's thought. :I know Sano put me down on Target Alpha's books, yes, but to make it official-:
:Much as he might enjoy not having to break in a new agent as partner, I doubt it was his idea,: Battousai noted. :Something's amiss.:
"Like what?" Yahiko blurted. And flushed, seeing Natasha's interested look.
The Sorceress glanced back to make sure Detective Goren had walked out of earshot, then waved them toward the front door. "I take it the three of you were having a bit of conversation?" Green eyes rested on Kenshin as they slipped past one of the stray uniformed officers. "I wasn't aware telepathy rested within Battousai's capabilities."
"I didn't know you made my brother an agent," Yahiko shot back as they made it out onto the sidewalk. For all it was summer, he felt distinctly chillier out here. "Isn't there some kind of a law against that?"
"Given we often have to employ those who have no legal standing whatsoever, our allowed recruiting standards can be... flexible," Natasha shrugged. "And it seemed the best way to hold the Wards intact."
Kenshin gave her a steady look, then stepped back to lay his fingers along the side of the front doorway. Kept them there for a long moment, as if testing an oven's heat, then stepped back with a smile that mingled wonder and relief. "That's it. That's what's been missing."
"What is?" Yahiko demanded.
Clawed fingers interwove with his, raised his hand to feel the air. "Look."
A faint silvery shimmer seemed to filter through the morning, brightening some areas, leaving others dark and chill. Yet it was less sight than feeling; a sense of what things were, of friend or foe or slumbering forces best left undisturbed.
And that sense felt power veiling Wonderful Things like adamantine; no danger to those merely passing through, but crushing disaster to any who approached with ill intent. "Holy..."
"It's always been safe here," Kenshin said softly. "I felt that the first day I walked through the door. That's why I hid here so much this last year, I knew she couldn't find me-" He cut himself off.
"Yukishiro?" Natasha arched a blonde brow.
"Sano," Kenshin growled.
"I wouldn't be so quick to blame your partner for informing us about a potential stalker, Himura," the Sorceress said dryly. "There aren't that many Inuits in Red Moonrise. Most tend to be too humane to aid man-eating Kin who want to terrorize the Herd until it submits. The Yukishiros are rather infamous exceptions." She tilted her head. "Did you know the Wards were down?"
Reluctantly, Kenshin shook his head. "Things seemed... different after I brought Battousai home. But everything was different."
"Whoa, whoa, back up!" Yahiko waved his hands. "Are you saying this place is supposed to be safe?"
"It certainly was last night," Natasha nodded, green eyes distant. "After I used Rachel's blood to reactivate the Wards. I doubt we'd have lived if I hadn't..." She chafed her arms, as if sunlight chilled them. "When a brave man - or woman - sheds blood in defense of what is right, he has won that earth as his forever. Something a friend of a friend said once. A friend of Golgotha's... he called Harvey last night, you know," she said to Kenshin. "And Harvey told me, once we had the Virus - cleaned up. We'd suspected something of the sort, once we started looking into the history here; this place has always been too quiet, given how many Kin and Witches patronize it. As if something were keeping it neutral... So we woke DuBuccio far earlier than he would have liked this morning, and he put you on the payroll. It should hold the Wards up. For now."
"Who did we lose?" Kenshin said gently.
"Nez. Oh, gods..." Natasha scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I can't cry," she said numbly. "Not here. Not in front of these people. I can't. I won't."
Kenshin nodded. "How does being an agent hold the Wards?"
Natasha drew in a shuddering breath, taking the offered refuge of practical matters. "DuBuccio's human. As an agent, he's your boss. Kin don't technically have the right to own property if the agency says otherwise - so as long as you work for us, DuBuccio has a magical claim to this place. And according to Golgotha, Wonderful Things has always been owned by a human. It's a loose interpretation, yes, but it should keep the Wards active. At least as well as Rachel's blood did."
"You're telling me this - this wall," Yahiko fumbled for words, "only stays up if a human owns the place?"
"Insofar as we can determine, yes." Natasha rubbed at her eyes again. "At least, until whatever's powering it fails. And we don't know what's powering it; no coven has ever been connected with this place-"
"Megumi's," Kenshin murmured.
The Sorceress stared. "What?"
"The Root Magic under Zip," Kenshin explained. "The one you've buried now, though if Megumi is right, there are other anchors scattered near here... I knew the sense of it, the feel of it. As if I had seen it before. Yet Battousai had not. It feels as Megumi feels; Sano can attest to it. And Megumi's coven, a hidden coven that avoided the New York Clave - they are gone. Killed by Kanryuu... or absorbed by Virus." A red brow lifted. "Who seems to be using them to work magic of its own."
Natasha started, then snorted with laughter. "Precisely how hard did the Cement Dragon throw you through that roof?"
"I saw it."
"I'm certain you saw something, Himura," the Sorceress said with measured patience. "But truly, examine it from a logical perspective; as we know Virus is logical. If it had access to magic, why would it not use that power against our team, instead of merely throwing bodies against us until our reinforcements arrived?"
"It would not," the redhead said, chill and precise, "if you were the distraction, Natasha-san."
Battousai, Yahiko knew, shivering and relieved at the same time. But - if killing people here was a distraction-
"It is Megumi-dono who was the true target."
Natasha gave a harsh bark of laughter, then shook her head, knuckles clenching white as her hands opened and closed, as if they wished to wrap around a convenient neck. "Your attempts at humor leave a great deal to be desired, sword of darkness."
"Natasha-san-"
"Be. Quiet."
Beneath red bangs, amber flickered.
"An agent of Target Alpha died here last night," the Sorceress hissed. "He risked his life to protect humans, as we all do, and he died for it! You - oh, I've learned your history, assassin! Kenshin may be a good and honorable man, as Joseph was; but all you care about is a body to kill with!"
"Falconi-san-"
"Don't." Sparks seemed to dance about her fingers; Natasha straightened them with an effort. "If Sagara says you killed a few Virus, I'll believe that. If he says Kanryuu's own men offered you a truce so they could handle their own problems with the damned monstrosities, I'll believe that. But if you think Virus was after a drug-dealing whore of a Witch instead of us, you've lost what little excuse for a mind you had."
Yahiko saw red. "Don't you dare say that about my-"
A clawed hand held him in place, iron-strong. "You are frightened," Battousai said, in a voice like night wind. "Your soul is in pain. But neither of those are reason to ignore fact, Falconi-san. And the facts we know, state that Virus does not care if its targets are human or Kin, murderer or innocent. All are merely prey. It has a plan; that plan requires access to the magic that supports this Ward. Access it can gain by way of the pool's own anchors, or by the body and blood of a coven member through which living magic still flows. Such as Megumi." Amber narrowed. "And if you refer to her in such terms again, Falconi-san, I may, for one moment, forget that we are allies. And I think Kenshin would not struggle to stop me." His voice dropped, near a whisper. "Aa, I think that he would not."
"You will not threaten me," Natasha hissed.
"I do not make threats, Natasha-san." Amber burned clear and steady. "I never have."
A half-step back, a blink - and Kenshin shook his head. "Megumi is in danger, Ms. Falconi. Please. Believe that, if nothing else."
Deliberately, the Sorceress unclenched her jaw. "You're a sweet young man, Himura. And you seem to be adapting well to life on our side of the night. But that blade wants nothing but death."
"Powers behind the government of Meiji thought as you did," Kenshin said levelly. "They were wrong."
"You're a baby, Kenshin," Natasha said bluntly. "Stay with Sagara. Keep him out of trouble. Guard this Takani if you want; if nothing else, one of Kanryuu's pushers might be able to give us a lead on where the damn Spider's Web is made, now that we know it is Kanryuu who's producing it. Just don't get Sagara killed doing it. He may only have a few years in, but he's good - and he's human. Which makes him worth a lot more to the agency than someone like you." Turning on her booted heel, she stalked off.
"That- that-" Shaking, Yahiko couldn't get out the words.
"Let it go," Kenshin said quietly.
"But-"
"She told the truth as she saw it, Yahiko-kun. She knew Joseph Ward. Who could not allow Battousai to share as I do - and who chose to use the blade to kill Kin. Natasha hates that killing... and so she hates herself. For though Target Alpha may say otherwise, she knows she is Kin, and so should be as loathed by them as we." Claws kneaded his shoulder through his t-shirt. "You know who I am. Who Battousai is. Let it go."
"Don't you dare make me go all muzzy out here," Yahiko groused. "Oh, damn it, Kenshin, can't you see what they're gonna do? They're going to-" He couldn't say it. He couldn't.
We've lost our parents. Our home. Part of our lives. We can't lose Wonderful Things too!
"They'll try; that they will." There was an odd, steely note in Kenshin's voice; like the day after the funeral, when Kenshin had sat him down and told him they would make things work. Somehow.
"They'll try," Kenshin said again, more quietly. "We'll be ready."
Yahiko shrugged, and managed a sarcastic snort. "Doesn't know as much as she thinks, does she? Megumi's not a-"
"No," Kenshin agreed quickly. "I do wonder what Sano did put in his report; that I do." A last touch to his shoulder, and the redhead beckoned. "The detectives will be busy here at least another hour, from the look of them. Come on."
"Where are we going?" Yahiko asked suspiciously.
Eyeing the roof-tattered sleeve of his gi, Kenshin sighed. "Shopping."
---------
"Green, huh?" Tyler Darrow said warily, eyeing the silken cravat spilling like an orange-spangled and neon green waterfall over Lanterne's hands. Even if he'd been utterly colorblind, there was no way to miss that bright mischief in his fellow Crowley's eyes. "I don't know. I think I could go for something a little less... eye-catching." Given that unlike some of the people I've met, I don't want to be dragging real eyeballs over the dance floor. "Samantha's going to be up on stage, after all, and I think it'd just be better to blend into the crowd some."
"Blend?" Lanterne clicked her tongue, Adam's apple bobbing as she sighed; six-foot-three of coffee-hued, statuesque brunette with gold eye-shadow, copper lipstick, and who-knew-what under a loose tiger-print blouse and tight black leather pants. The manager of Lizardskin and Lace considered gender conventions the way Hell's Angels considered speed limits; the very idea that they might apply was laughable. "But honey, that's so boring."
"Blue," Tyler said hastily, trying to back up without looking like he was backing up. "Maybe blue... and more of a scarf, sort of, maybe..."
"Aviator look? Retro. Classy." Lanterne's eyes glazed, evidently picturing that look in the mass of light and sound and darkness that was Club AfterDark's weekend scene. "Oh, this could be so in - Darrow? Where'd you go? Huh." She waved a fist. "You know you're just going to have to come back to the counter to ring up." Swishing her hips, she stalked off in search of another fashion victim.
Letting out a relieved breath, Tyler perched under the ring-shaped jeans rack and considered his next move. Darn Kin obsession with current style. I'm not looking to Cheek anybody, I don't have to be on the cutting edge... of course, if I'm too far off, I stick out like a sore thumb, and then things can get ugly with some of the hotheads. He sighed. This is what comes of dating one of your former sources.
Not that he regretted it. Samantha X was one of the best things that had happened to him since his divorce. And she brought necking to whole new levels. But every once in a while, usually when he least expected it, the weirdness of the whole situation came back and bit him in the ankle.
I can't tell my own son who I'm really dating. Forget the closet; I'm stuck in the coffin.
Ah well. Back to finding a club outfit that wouldn't get him arrested for indecent color coordination. He crabbed his way out from under ragged denim-
"Oof!"
Rubbing his head as he straightened, Tyler looked down, and blinked. Spiky brown hair, mostly Japanese, maybe thirteen, carrying... a colored Aikido outfit? No, wait; that's something out of the historical part of the store, where Lanterne stocks stuff for people who want a taste of how life used to be, and Kin who want some of how their life was. Weird. And why do I get the feeling I know this kid?
"Watch where you're going, you big-" The teenager stopped, frown turning to eager surprise. "Hey! Are you- no way, you can't be, but you look just like the picture inside Coming Home to Darkness-"
"Guilty," Tyler admitted. Must have been one of the reprints; before his book had hit the bestseller list, no publisher would have put a then-reporter's face in the back of a horror book. "Tyler Darrow." He offered a hand, shook the eager grip. "And you are?"
"Huh? Oh. Wow. The one day I wish I was carrying a book- ah. Yahiko. Himura. And it was great, even though I think they really cut out some of the good stuff when they made it for TV, but - you probably get that a lot... are you okay?"
"Heh. Low blood sugar. Too much coffee. One of those mornings." Aah, help! Help, help, help! Scary guy's little brother is a horror fan! Run awaaay! "Well, it was nice meeting you, really-" He turned - and almost ran right over an armload of clothing topped by red hair.
Violet blinked up at him. Arched a red brow.
"Eep?" Tyler managed. Aaah! Sword! Claws! Aikido outfit! Outfit that looked like it'd lost a wrestling match with a demented washing machine, but that was beside the point. Why isn't anybody else screaming?
"One has to wonder," Kenshin said wryly, shifting the bundles of blue, gray, and scarlet to one arm, "exactly what did Golgotha tell you about me?"
"Er... ah..." Think fast! "You, ah, saw me?"
"It's difficult to miss a hardcore band, even when they're not playing." If possible, the red brow climbed higher. "I do not eat people, Darrow-san. Even if they do write books that keep a certain young man who should know better up until three in the morning, convinced Bloody Bones will materialize through the gateway into inter-dimensional hells defined by the shadows under a bed."
"Hey!" Yahiko stomped a foot. "It was only two in the morning!"
Kenshin gave him a look.
"Okay, okay... maybe two-thirty, sheesh..."
"You-" Get a grip, Tyler. Remember what Golgotha said? Honorable. If he were here for you, he'd have told you by now. "Tyler Darrow," he offered, holding out an uncertain hand. Felt it taken, just as warily, barely a pine-needle prickle of claws to hint the smaller hand wasn't human. "And you're Kenshin Himura... and from what I've heard, that kind of illegal thing you're carrying would be Battousai." Tyler glanced at the black sheath. "Mind my asking how you're doing that?"
"Jedi mind trick," Yahiko grinned.
"It is not," Kenshin said, stunned.
"It has a strong influence on the weak-minded," the teen intoned, waving his hands. "What else would you call it?"
"Oro..."
Um. They're not scared of each other? That's - ah - wow... "You're telling me other people aren't seeing what I'm seeing?" Tyler ventured. Part of him might still want to run screaming, but the part that had been a reporter was absolutely fascinated. He'd heard there were Kin out there good at illusions, but he'd never really had the chance to talk to one. "So what are they seeing?"
"That can differ," Kenshin admitted. "It is... well, in essence, Yahiko is correct-"
"Hah! Gotcha!"
"It is an influence on the mind, much as Rakshasa use," Kenshin went on, leaning his pile of clothes lightly against the ring rack as he thought out loud. "Only where they choose a specific illusion of human form to project, Battousai only uses an impression: I am harmless." Mischief gleamed in violet. "One's own mind does all the rest."
Harmless? Tyler thought, incredulous. A possessing sword says "I'm harmless"?
But given people weren't running screaming...
"And a harmless guy doesn't have claws," Tyler said thoughtfully.
Kenshin nodded.
"Or a sword."
A second nod.
"Or..." Tyler gave the tattered Kin another quick once-over, "maybe even, doesn't wear anything as weird as an Aikido outfit?"
"That one doesn't work around kendo people," Yahiko grinned. "Maekawa-sensei's gonna get you up in front of the class sometime. Bet on it."
"Not for another week, I hope," Kenshin muttered. "I need more time to learn how to slow down. The students, yes, a spar with them would be possible; yet like Kaoru, Maekawa is good enough that Battousai may react without thinking. I don't think we'd hurt him - but I'd prefer not to risk it, that I would." The red head tilted. "You're surprised."
"Yes and no," the writer admitted. Am I that obvious? Thought being around Kin had taught me to keep a poker face better than that... no, wait. Golgotha said the blades read ki. Life-force. Aura. Emotions. I could be behind a brick wall and he'd know what I was feeling. "That... kind of fits with what Golgotha told me about you. Or at least," Tyler wet his lips, and put his finger on the point that had bothered him, "about Battousai."
"We're not quite the same, no," Kenshin smiled wryly. "Though most seem not to believe that."
"Hey, Golgotha says it took him years to figure out you might not be an ordinary Muramasa blade. They have a nasty rep," Tyler shrugged. "Part of what made it such a killer plot bunny-" Oh, no. Earth, open up and swallow me now.
"You mean you-" Yahiko made a strangled noise.
"Ah... well... Blood Soup kind of burned me out on the whole slow-horror, Gypsy curse idea," Tyler admitted. "I really felt like writing something different - like maybe a slasher-maniac type villain, hacking his way through three hundred pages. Only my editor warned me no matter how burned out I was feeling, people were going to want slow spots in with the violence. So I thought, if I could get a little history in, that gave a good reason for the blood and gore... I asked Golgotha if he knew anything good. He spun me out a bit on the whole cursed swords deal." Tyler shrugged helplessly. "I didn't actually know there were any here in New York, until last night. Which I guess is kind of silly. Everything's here in New York, somewhere." I am so dead.
Red bangs lowered. Tyler tensed-
A quiet laugh shook free of the small frame. Amber eyes lifted. "So I'm a villain in your book, then, Darrow-san?" Fangs glinted in a ghost of a smile. "Some things never do change."
"You've been written about before?" Tyler blurted. "Where? How can I find it? I-" Reality broke through a writer's obsession with new and fascinating information, and he fought not to step back. "You're..."
"Aa, that I am. For a time." Battousai regarded him with cool amusement. "Even if you found a Kin to translate the Japanese for you, Darrow-san, I doubt much of those works remain. The wanted posters were likely destroyed with the Shogunate that issued them - and the new government went to great lengths to remove all trace of the shadows they once called the guardians of Chaos." Amber burned chill. "Great lengths, indeed. I doubt they persist in the pursuit even today, my hosts would surely have met their forces before were that the case... but to delve into those times is to court great risk. And not only from Kin."
It was as if the walls fell away in a cold wind, modern New York shimmering into the gray rain of Kyoto's stone streets. The hope and hate that seemed to linger among store shelves changed, transmuting from the endless struggle to join the right clique and one-up one's fellow man to an even more desperate fight to ally with whatever faction might allow one to simply survive. Faint sounds of store fans and street noise blurred into a distant clash of swords, the groans of the dying...
Tyler swiped at his cheek, surprised when fingers came away damp with sweat rather than blood. "How did you do that?"
"Nothing cuts keener than memory." Amber narrowed. "Listen to your fears, Darrow-san. They may keep you alive."
A slight shift of posture, a shake of red hair - and violet looked up at him. "He gets like that," Kenshin said wryly. "Too much Zen, I think." He bowed slightly. "Good day-"
"Wait a sec!" Tyler blurted. Think fast, think fast - teenage kid. Of course. "Have you had lunch?"
---------
The world filtered back in with a thump of hair dropped back against her neck. Megumi held her eyes closed a moment longer, trying to place where in Kanryuu's many labs and safehouses she'd ever encountered giggles, the scent of hot cheddar, and a suspicious lumpiness to her long black locks...
Not to mention the buzz and click of a digital camera. "Cheese!" two young voices chorused.
"You two need to work on your timing," Sano chuckled, near where the sound of the camera-snap had been. "Man, nobody's going to believe this one without proof." Buzz-click. "Who'd have thought Goth leather could go grade-school?"
Megumi tried not to blink. What?
"Does Megumi-san get a sandwich if she's not awake?" the older of the youngsters wondered.
"Hmm. Good question, Ayame." The wicked grin vibrated in Sano's voice. "Why don't you ask her?"
"Silly!" the younger spoke up. "Sleeping people can't say yes!"
"Oh yeah, right. Guess you got me there, Suzume. We'll just have to - eat them anyway!"
Megumi sat straight up on the couch, doing her best Bride of Dracula impression. "Saaandwich," she intoned.
"Eek!"
There was a scattering of little feet; Megumi glimpsed a pair of tiny brunettes squirming to hide behind one camera-bearing rooster-head, who was trying - and failing - to keep a straight face. "It's alive, alive!" Sano chortled.
"And it must feed," Megumi said huskily, swinging her legs off the cushions to feel the floor under her socks. Swinging her head in a properly predatory manner-
Thump. Swish. Thump.
"What the-?" Megumi held up an unexpected braid, woven through with - pink ribbons?
Pink in one. White in another. Rainbow-shimmery with clear plastic beads in yet another.
And he took pictures? I'll kill him!
Shy and quiet, two small, brown-eyed girls peeked from behind Sano's legs.
...Later. "Good morning," Megumi ventured.
"Not anymore it's not," Sano snickered. "Bathroom's that way."
"I've been here before," Megumi reminded him dryly, heading for it. Though there wasn't a hole in the wall night before last... my, my. I can see why the little kendo girl was so upset.
Necessities tended to, teeth and unbraided hair brushed, and a little extra water splashed in her face to clear out the cobwebs, Megumi took one moment out to just lean her head against the wall and shiver. They know. They know.
...And they didn't throw me back out on the street.
It didn't make sense. She knew what she'd done. Such horrible things...
"I chose to kill rather than submit."
Such a gentle voice, to speak words that chilled her soul.
"Because of you, New York is not lost."
I'm not brave, Megumi thought desperately. I'm not...
"Come remember what it is to be free."
And a free person didn't make drugs to kill other people. Didn't let the formula to do so fall into evil hands. A free person defied evil to the last, simply because it was the right thing to do.
Megumi swallowed dryly as the magnitude of what Kenshin asked sank in. Oh gods. I'm not that strong. I can't be...
An it harm none, her parents' voices whispered in memory, do what thou wilt.
"You're not harmless at all, are you, Himura?" Megumi whispered. "Cute and cuddly and sweet, oh yes; and under it all, a soul of pure steel." I'm not that strong. I'm just - not.
But I have to try. I have to do... something...
Later. She'd think about it later.
For now, there were sandwiches to deal with.
Mmm. Cheddar. Megumi dove into the melted cheese sandwich, accepting the mug of apple juice Ayame handed her with a properly solemn smile. The little girl blushed and hid near Sano again, then ventured back to her own seat to eat her crust-less sandwich.
Megumi looked at the pile of cheesy crusts Sano was working through in addition to his own sandwich, and shook her head. "Are they yours?"
"Whoa! You kidding? I mean, you guys-"
"Girls!" Suzume insisted.
"Right, you girls are great kids," the agent went on hastily. "But they're Gensai's. Usually they'd be at daycare, or Kaoru would be watching them. But she got an emergency call in from the temp agency she works for, and the doc..."
"Grandpa got a bad feeling," Ayame said, blinking owlishly. "So we're not going to see Mrs. Guay today."
"And since I'm hanging around with you anyway, I figured we might as well hang onto the little scamps," Sano finished, mouthing later at her.
"Divination?" Megumi asked casually, unwilling to let it rest so easily.
"So I heard," Sano shrugged, carefully casual. "I called in, asked a couple people I know to take a look around. We'll see what comes up."
Megumi nodded, determined to get the full story later. "Kaoru temps?"
"You ever try making a living from pure martial arts in this city?" Sano shook his head. "She's got a steady student base, which puts her one up on a lot of people, but she still needs part-time jobs to get by."
Megumi raised an eyebrow, catching a slight shift of the agent's gaze. "Sanosuke Sagara. What did you do?"
Sano tried on an innocent grin. "Who, me?"
---------
Translations and Info:
Aa - informal yes.
Cheek - acquire prey through seduction.
ENO - Extra-Natural Operative; a Kin working for Target Alpha.
Kuso - beastly, "damn it".
Maa, maa - easy, easy there.
