Warnings: Skimpy clothes and ignorance of foreign customs
Chapter 6.
Jason watched Cherry leave almost mournfully, till he spotted some girls by the bar.
"They're splitting up," I mumbled to Asher.
"Indeed." Asher nodded, letting his hair fall forward more in a shining wave of gold. "But you are the one under threat, Anita. And they can handle whatever is thrown at them."
I bit my lip. That was true, but I was their Nimir-ra. Their leader. It was my duty to watch out for them. Jason too, who was now trying to flirt with some Japanese girls who were responsive, despite the language barrier.
Kannon grinned, cocking his head. "I will be watching."
He turned and tossed his head, flinging the hair out of his eyes and moving out toward the dance floor. Zane was sniffing the club, licking his lips.
"Remember the rules, Zane," I reminded him. Zane looked to me and laughed.
"You are no fun," he snorted, and headed over toward Jason. I turned to look at Asher, looking up at his half-covered face.
"Do you dance to techno?" I asked with a grin.
"Techno." Asher shifted a little uncomfortably. "When in Japan...do as they do."
I had to smile. A vampire over 300 years dancing to techno. This I wanted to see.
"May I have this dance?" I asked. Asher looked at me almost disbelievingly.
"Come on, stick in the mud." I threw his phrase back at him. "I'm wearing these slut pants, so you gotta dance."
He laughed, and it was nearly like Jean Claude's, almost a caress along my skin. I shivered.
"I would be honored." He offered his arm. "Nice "slut" pants."
"Don't get ideas." I took his arm and walked toward the edge of the dance floor.
I wouldn't feel comfortable in the slew of bodies. Someone could shove a knife under my ribs, and the other dancers would probably keep me standing. Staying safely to the edge, keeping a reactionary gap around me, I unhooked my arm from Asher's and looked at him expectantly.
"Let's see it, fangs." I grinned. He chuckled and titled his head, feet trying to get a feel for the fast beat. He still looked like he wanted to waltz or something. I felt someone bump against my back and turned quickly, seeing Nathaniel wink at me with Cherry against him.
"Fancy meeting you here?" he asked with a grin. Asher suddenly turned his head from trying to dance to look at the door. A man in a business suit had walked in. Every hair was in place, one man and one woman following him. The man looked like your typical bodyguard in a suit. She was a geisha.
He was Japanese with a wide jaw, giving him a stern look. His hair looked short, dark, but streaked with gray, and I saw the small ponytail on the back of his head when he glanced at his companions. He wasn't very tall, but his gaze pierced. He eyes swept the club to land on Asher and stayed.
"Asher," I started, and tried to gulp on the wave of power that swept over me. Part of it was Asher. The rest was someone else. And I had a good idea who. It was nearly smothering.
Nathaniel pressed up against my shoulder blade, and I pushed my hand back to feel him grab at it.
The Japanese man walked up to us, eyes never leaving Asher, and my estimate on his age went higher and higher. He wasn't much taller than me, and he was scaring the living hell out of me.
"The Master of Tokyo, I take it," Asher said in a power rich voice. The Master of Tokyo tilted his head.
"You are correct." His English was more heavily accented. About 600 years. Over. I could tell why his power was leaking out all over the place. He was trying to intimidate Asher. He intimidated me.
"This is Anita Blake," Asher politely introduced me and those dark eyes turned to me.
"Blake...san." he nodded. I clumsily tried to nod back. The Master of Tokyo came to nightclubs?
"I have heard tales," he said clearly. "America's feared Executioner."
"On vacation," I said firmly back. "And that's all."
"A vacation that requires a master vampire to accompany you," the Master of Tokyo continued smoothly.
"Such was chosen for me by the Master of St Louis," I answered. "Just in case some might try to idlely test those tales."
He smiled, a measured smile. I saw Kannon walking up behind and the two with the Master turned to look at him. He froze.
"Hai, Blake-san." He tried to look me in the eyes. I looked back at him, looking into those depths, feeling the edge of the pull, and slipping past it to look into normal eyes. He was startled, but hid it well. He grinned.
"I am Fujiwara no Sanesuke," he said finally. "The Master of Tokyo. I bid you welcome, Blake-san."
"It is nice to be welcomed, Fujiwara-san," I answered back evenly. I had come to figure out 'san' was respectful. Wasn't everyone a 'san' in those samurai movies?
Sanesuke continued. "It is customary, in Japan, to bring a gift for those you visit."
I blinked at him. What was he looking for? He hadn't tracked me down to this club just to beg for a trinket.
"I was not aware of your customs," I answered. What do you give a 600+ year old vampire? Eggbeater? Microwave? For those late night, frozen snacks?
Sanesuke looked past me, eyes passing over Nathaniel and Cherry. "As I have allowed you to bring a master vampire into my city, I think it only fair to receive something in return."
"Ask of me then," Asher came to my defense.
"Ah, but you come here with Blake-san. Not she with you." Sanesuke looked back at him.
"May I make a request?" I asked.
"A request?" Sanesuke smoothly returned his onyx gaze to me. "And it is?"
"I can taste you in the back of my throat like pudding that won't go down." I gulped. "I'm impressed. May I ask you to back off a little?"
He looked genuinely surprised, but I felt the power vanish like a wind does with the slamming of a door.
"Granted." He smiled without showing fang. Asher eased down on his own presence. The air suddenly felt ten degrees cooler, making me shiver.
"Very interesting," he remarked, rubbing his chin with the side of a finger. He didn't wear any rings, I noticed. "Now, I have granted you two requests, Blake-san."
I stared back at him. He wanted something. It was too obvious. He had walked in here with it in mind.
"What is it you want?" I asked. Sanesuke looked me right in the eye.
"You assume I already have a desire?"
"Look, I can go buy you a blender, but I'm sure that's not what you want. So come out and say it."
He chuckled. "I gave you Kannon. One of mine."
Now I understood his glance over the pard. That bastard. I bit back the urge to hiss a curse at him. You just don't tell 600 year old vampires to fuck off.
"You can have him back," I said slowly.
"You refuse my hospitality?"
I was digging myself deeper and deeper. When had I gotten the shovel? If I refused his hospitality, he could try to make me leave. I had two weeks and I intended to enjoy them. Why were vampires always out to ruin my happiness? There was something to be said about the old stake and cross days.
"No, I do not," I answered firmly. Zane and Jason had joined us. I could feel them at my back. Kannon was still standing where he was, helplessly looking at the two bodyguards. The male, he was a shape shifter. I wasn't sure what kind. But he was built wide, with a huge jaw and slicked back hair. His dark charcoal suit had been tailored and it still seemed to be tested not to rip and tear at the seams.
The geisha, now she was a vampire. And she was stunning. A perfect doll. Her skin was pale as milk; small, cupid's bow lips like blood red petals, and large, dark, polished onyx eyes. Her kimono was shades of pale lavender, with gold and jade trinkets sparkling and dangling in her jet hair, coiffed and shaped to perfection. I couldn't read her very well. She had her power wrapped up tightly, as if hiding in the shadow of the Master of the City's power. Subservient. Like the traditional geisha. Beautiful, silent. And in this case, deadly as the plague. I started guessing around a hundred years.
Sanesuke smiled. "I must admit, you impress me, Blake-san. It is rude to arrive without a gift, and I see these are yours. I will lay no claim to them."
So they did have honor. Surprise, surprise.
"Instead, may I make a request of you?"
I observed him a few moments, trying to get a feel for what he might ask, but there was nothing. "Of course."
"As you own werecats, there is a small group of werecats, like yours, in Tokyo. They elude my requests to meet. Bring them to me. And they will be your gift."
"What's the catch?" I asked.
"None." He still smiled pleasantly. "Nothing that you cannot handle with your experience. Just bring them to me. Alive. Kannon will be able to contact me when you have them."
I glanced at Kannon. His golden eyes looked surprised. He nodded. Sanesuke wasn't lying. Shape shifters can smell a lie.
"Are you going to kill them?" I asked.
"Of course not." Sanesuke shook his head smoothly. "Merely an effort on your part. For me."
He just wanted to see me jump through hoops? I didn't think so. But if he didn't want the werecats dead, and with what Kannon had said, I could almost believe him. But there had to be a catch. There always was.
"Do you accept?"
I looked back at the Master of Tokyo. "Once I round them up for you, that's it. You leave me and mine alone. Asher is mine, Jason is mine. I am Nimir-ra, the pard is mine."
I wasn't sure what Asher would think of being called mine. He was a master and a power in his own right. But he made no protest. Sanesuke seemed genuinely pleased by my answer.
"Agreed." He smiled with a small nod.
"Good." I nodded politely back.
"Good evening to you, Blake-san."
He stepped backward from me with a small bow, never taking his eyes from me. Smart. Never turn your back that close. And never remove your eyes. Sanesuke stepped back a few more steps beyond his bodyguards, and Kannon backed away to make room. Sanesuke looked at him a moment, then turned and walked out with his bodyguards at his back.
"There must be a catch," Asher said softly, almost lost in the music. Scary, how he thought like me. Or was I thinking like a vampire?
Kannon walked over to us, glancing back over his shoulder at the door.
"He's old." I looked to Kannon. Kannon nodded back to me, golden eyes serious.
"He was the Chancellor back in the reign of the Fujiwara clan. No man but the Emperor held greater power than he."
I shivered. Even human, Sanesuke would have been someone to reckon with. Feudal. Old fashioned Samurai honor. All I could lean on was that honor.
"Kannon, do you know these wereleopards?" I asked, looking at him carefully.
Kannon shifted, folding his arms across his chest, black-gloved hands gripping the pale flesh of his arms as if trying to draw comfort from himself.
"I've met them," he admitted. "They're wanderers. They won't see Sanesuke-sama or us because they do not plan to stay. But Sanesuke-sama is very...governmental?"
I nodded. "So what do you think he wants with them?"
Kannon looked down at his feet, red-orange hair falling into his eyes. "There was been very...brutal murders in town. About the time they arrived. Sanesuke-sama thinks they may be responsible."
"I see," I sighed.
"I apologize, Anita." Asher turned at my side. "I should not have come."
"Asher, you're here. Shut up."
I wasn't in a mood to be comforting. Asher gave me a considering look.
"I'm yours?" he asked softly.
"I'd kill for you, Asher." I looked at his single bared pale blue eye. "That qualifies. Doesn't it?"
Asher looked back at me with the look Jean Claude sometimes gave me. I felt that pull, Jean Claude's pull, toward Asher. I wanted to take him into my arms and kiss his eyelids. To call him mon chardonneret. In English it sounded funny. My goldfinch. But it was the nickname Jean Claude had used for him, and being wrapped up in Jean Claude's power like I was, it seemed natural to me. But he had made me promise never to call him that. Not unless I meant it. Sometimes, I think I did. Or that might just have been Jean Claude's emotions.
I shivered, and he lay a gentle hand on my shoulder. I leaned my head over to rest my cheek against the warm flesh. Warmth stolen from Jason.
"You are not alone, Anita." He let the fingers of his other hand trail my cheek.
"We're here for you, Anita." Jason pressed in against me, his chin sliding onto my other shoulder. I lifted my free hand to stoke the side of his face. Seeing I was in a touching mood, the leopards moved in around me, each touching me in some way. They were scared too. They depended on me. God help me to be strong enough.
I'd come to question whether God loved me any longer. I'd killed too many. I was a necromancer, and everywhere I turned, everyone believed I was forsaken by God. Until I had entered that pentagram that held a demon. To save Richard's mother. That ultimate proof God still considered me his had been an incredible booster. Leading Richard's mother out of the pentagram, chanting a Christmas psalm in the face of a demon and holding it at bay, never had I been so filled by the power of God. Help me be strong enough.
I felt a set of fingers stroke my cheek and opened my eyes to see Kannon looking at me with drowning molten gold eyes, as if he were in rapture. His lips were parted, and I could almost hear his breath whistle between them. I realized finally that in remembering the power of God, I was leaking power. It had curled around the others, drawing them toward me. Even Kannon. Whom I had never shared the munin with. It was warm, like home, in Richard's arms, Jean Claude's arms...my mother's arms. Mine. Kannon had just joined the fold.
