Chapter 2: Exeunt

The hell I am!

Kagome rammed her knee at the man's groin. He blocked it by swiftly maneuvering his thigh. She swung her elbow up between their bodies, aiming for his face. His hand left her shoulder, darting sideways to seize her elbow midswing. His hand was so big his fingers circled all the way around her arm, squeezing in a painful grip.

She reared her head back, fully intending to bash her forehead into his nose—but he yanked hard on her elbow and she lost her footing, falling forward into his body. She felt the hand covering her mouth glide purposefully across her cheek, fingers sliding into her hair and cupping her skull just behind her ear. His thumb was poised at the side of her neck, sharp claw digging into the skin over her jugular vein.

To anyone else on the street it probably looked like a lover's embrace: their chests pressed together, his hand around her arm as though drawing her closer, the side of his face resting against her temple, mouth near her ear.

They wouldn't, of course, see his claw breaking the skin of her neck, a streak of blood trickling down past her shirt collar.

"Listen," he growled, breath gusting over her ear as he pressed his claw that much harder into her skin. "How about you don't make a scene, and I don't slice your jugular where you stand. Sound fair?"

She froze against him.

He twitched his thumb, widening the cut. It stung like hell. She could feel the warmth of her own blood rolling sluggishly down her collar bone.

"You gonna be reasonable, or does this have to get messy?"

He sounded almost bored as he said it, as though he didn't care one way or the other. It sent chills down Kagome's spine.

She risked a tiny turn of her chin, just enough so she could sweep her gaze up and down the street. None of the people bustling by paid them any attention. In fact, it almost seemed as if people tried to avoid looking at them, turning their gazes away and hurrying past.

No one liked watching PDA, after all.

That's why he'd done it, Kagome realized. Yanked her against him like that. He'd tried to make them as invisible as he could in the middle of a city street.

So he probably wasn't an idiot. Dammit.

Kagome slowly exhaled. "And you think killing me here won't make a scene?" she asked in an undertone.

He twitched his thumb again. She winced at the tearing sensation.

"Heh," he husked against her ear, "I'd be blocks away before your body even hit the ground."

He didn't say the rest, but Kagome heard the subtext loud and clear: he was going to avoid a scene—it was up to her whether she was alive or dead to help him do it.

So much for the safety of being in public.

Her brain ran some rapidfire calculus. Setting aside whether he might be bluffing, Kagome was certain at least that he was capable of doing what he threatened. He clearly had yōkai speed and strength. As quickly as she could draw in the breath needed to shout for help, he could plunge that claw into her jugular, slit her throat wide open. She had no way of knowing if he would: all she knew was that he could.

Grinding her molars together until they hurt, Kagome hissed, "Fine. I'll do as you say."

The stinging pain in her neck eased away, sharp claw replaced by the pad of his thumb resting against her bloodied skin. "At least you're not completely stupid." The fingers in her hair squeezed against her scalp as he said gruffly, "Listen good. You and I are about to be a couple strolling the town. You're gonna put your arm around me, nice and easy, and you're going to smile and put that pretty face to good use. Make a nice show for the people, understand?" She felt the barest prick of claws against her scalp as he added, "You even think about screaming, or running, and it won't go well for you."

She couldn't manage to push words out of her throat, so she just nodded once.

"Good. Now—start acting the part."

Keeping his grip around her elbow, he took a step back. Gold eyes glinted at her in the afternoon light, hard and unyielding.

Taking in a shaky breath, Kagome forced her lips up into a wooden smile that didn't reach her eyes.

His arm snaked around her waist, tugging her against his side. Then he forced her into an about-face and practically frogmarched her down the street.

She felt the tips of those yōkai nails through her shirt, just above and to the side of her navel. Someone passing by would have thought he was caressing her, perhaps. But Kagome couldn't help thinking about the vital internal organs in that area of the body, and gulped.

She was staring straight ahead of her, neck and shoulders rigid as cement, her steps jerky and fumbling as his arm forced her forward. She tried to think. What could she use, what distraction or blind spot could she exploit? He wasn't the first of Naraku's hunters to find her. She'd gotten away from them before. She just needed to capitalize on the right opportunity.

Suddenly he growled under his breath, "This how you think couples act, sweetheart?" He injected an acerbic bite into the last word. "Get your shoulders down from around your ears and act fucking normal."

She glared at him from the corner of her eye. His jaw was clenched, his mouth twisted in irritation, revealing an inhumanly sharp canine. "Maybe," she said, "acting normal would be easier for me if I wasn't being abducted."

Suddenly his nails were digging into her stomach, slicing through the fabric of her shirt to scratch at the skin beneath. They didn't cut — yet.

"Dammit," she hissed, trying to jerk away from his fingers, which only brought her into closer contact with his body, "don't—"

"I already told you how this was going down," he replied, lip lifting in a snarl, "so get with the program or I can end you right here."

His tone was so biting, edged with a genuine fury—yet there was an undertone of something else in it, too. Something Kagome couldn't place.

"Now fucking smile and act like you're having a good time," he said, arm heavy around her waist.

Even while Kagome did as she was told—stiffly sliding her hand across his back as she'd seen couples do before, slinging her arm loosely around his hips—something in the back of her mind clicked into place.

That undertone in his voice. It was fear. Thoroughly buried beneath anger and volatility, maybe, but fear nonetheless. She should know: she'd heard it in her own voice for years.

He didn't actually care about convincing random strangers that they were a happy couple. Why should he? It didn't make sense. Most people weren't paying attention to them, anyway. He didn't have to work this hard to fly under their radar. And though she hated to admit it, he'd said it himself: he could have either slaughtered her or made off with her in a heartbeat if he'd wanted, and likely no one on the street would've been the wiser. So if he wasn't avoiding a scene for the sake of fooling bystanders, why was he?

Maybe he was worried about avoiding someone else. A specific someone.

A chill rippled through her body at the thought, but in the same moment, Kagome knew she had her opportunity. Time to make hay with it.

Kagome casually angled her head towards him, so he could get a good view of her face. She directed her gaze over his shoulder, as though she was observing the storefronts across the street. After a few moments of this, she deliberately widened her eyes, dropping her jaw open in a quiet gasp.

He took the bait. His head whipped around in the direction she was looking.

She dropped down, twisted her body, and slammed her fist into his kidney.

His body flinched hard, and she heard him groan, but by then she'd already spun out of his hold.

Turning in the direction of her car, she ran like her life depended on it.