Hello, I'm a brand-new fanfic author! Please give me feedback or I might decide to drop this story.

I'd like to thank Kat Morning for the setting of my story, which is based on the alternate universe of her inu fanfic "Blood Ties."

Disclaimer: I do not own Miroku, Sesshomeru, or any other Inuyasha characters. They are owned by their author/creator, Rumiko Takahashi.

Prologue: First Impressions

Kura pressed another pushpin into the map of Tokyo tacked up on her wall. Skimming the last two obituaries in the paper, she searched for the key words died unexpectedly or neck trauma. One death was certainly from natural causes; the man was 78 and had died in the hospital. The other might be a vampire kill, or it might be, as the newspaper claimed, a mugging victim who was knifed. She pressed a blue pin in for a possible vampire kill.

Stepping back to look at the map, she couldn't help swearing. There was a cluster of red pins in sector F, marking seven confirmed vampire kills within the past week, but not a single black pin to show a successful slaying. She called up Council headquarters on her cell phone.

Hey, Keiko. It's Kura.

Kura? You OK?

Yeah, I was just doing the obits. There's been a cluster in the east of sector F; I'll take it.

Do you want backup? Yumi's already doing double shifts, but maybe Saru could make it . . .

I don't need a partner who'll be exhausted from work. I'll take care of it.

Your call, you are a Senior now. By the way, I never congratulated you.

Don't bother. Any other Nosferatu activity in the area?

No . . . but that is near the taiyoukai's territory. Do be careful, OK? Don't let the promotion go to your head.

No need to worry. I know how to handle vamps, and I don't plan on tangling with Lord Sesshomeru tonight. Signing off.

Jamming the cell back into her belt, Kura slurped up the last of the ramen noodles in the styrofoam cup and tossed it into the sink to deal with later. She grabbed a pouch of blood out of the mini-fridge and coated both ends of her double-bladed staff with the precious miko blood. She sealed the bag carefully; the Council could only give its members half a liter every month, so every drop was essential. Jamming on her side-zip boots, she left her basement apartment after activating the ward on the door. She climbed half a flight of stairs, then stepped out into the cool night air which was filled with gasoline fumes and lingering dampness from that afternoon's rain. Walking purposefully, she reached sector F within fifteen minutes.

The streetlight at the corner flickered to life for a few seconds before giving up the fight. In the shadows of the dingy apartment buildings, Kura waited and watched. A vampire would only kill one or two times in a week. Seven kills within a week meant a pack of vamps, and vamps were so fiercely territorial that they would only hunt in the same neighborhood if they were under the control of a Nosferatu, an undead sorcerer far faster and stronger than the lower vampires. It was suicide to attack a pack without taking out their Nosferatu leader first.

Sounds of a struggle came from the park's north end. Careful to stay in the shadows of the buildings, she hurried towards the grunts and clanks until she could see the ones fighting. Eight vampires were circling a boy of about 17 with a low ponytail in the back. His handsome face was smeared with blood, and his brow was set in a determined line. He brandished a staff whose decorations clinked every time he shifted his grip. At first glance Kura could tell he was a rookie: he wore a black leather jacket, but no gloves to protect his knuckles and help him grasp his noisy staff. He wore shiny new leather boots. She was impressed to see two bodies already spattered on the ground-- had this rookie really managed two kills? Or had he come to the aid of human victims? Either way, the vamps had stopped attacking wildly and were now coordinating their attacks. The kid would be in trouble soon.

With a last desperate scan of the shadows for their Nosferatu master, who would probably hold aloof from the fighting as long as there was no real chance of the boy escaping, Kura charged the vamps at a run. The 8-inch blades extended from both ends when she twisted the handle of her staff. Her running jump landed a kick between the shoulder blades of one vamp; the satisfying snap of his backbone meant this one would be staying down. With a sweep of her staff she beheaded one of his companions on each blade. The remaining five vampires and the boy looked at her in astonishment, but the moment the vamps noticed the symbol she wore on a choker around her neck, their faces twisted with loathing and they began to snarl and growl.

The factor of surprise was gone, and the Nosferatu lord would join the fight within moments. The boy lunged backwards to avoid a vampire's dagger, tripped over a dead body and fell backwards. To save him, Kura was forced to throw her staff like a javelin; it only nicked the vampire wielding the dagger, but the blessed wood forced him back a step, giving the boy time to scramble to his feet. A female vamp with a machete leapt towards Kura, but the demon hunter was able to duck under the attack and throw the vamp over her shoulder, into the butcher's blade of another vampire. Kura lunged towards her weapon as the boy she had protected joined the fight, punching one of the vampires in the stomach. Her hand almost closed around the smooth wooden shaft when a jolt of electricity crackled through the air. The vampires who hadn't jumped back quickly enough were also knocked to the ground.

Kura mentally cursed herself for having released her staff-- blessed by a monk, it could have warded off the Nosferatu's electrical attack. She clamped her jaw closed around a scream of pain. If any concerned citizens came to her rescue now, they would be nothing but a pile of ash within moments. Kura's sight was beginning to flicker; the afterimages of the electric sparks were blinding. Her body twitched and convulsed as her muscles contracted violently with every electric pulse. She was close to blacking out and hardly aware of the boy standing up behind her and enclosing her within his spirit shield.

She found herself staring up into the chocolate-brown eyes of the boy. He smiled and asked, Are you all right? You took a pretty hard blast.

Kura resisted the urge to punch her rescuer in the nose. He was the one who had gotten her into this mess in the first place, and the vampires . . . Suddenly Kura noticed the blue globe hovering around them. A spirit shield? What are you, a monk?

Miroku at your service. Now, if you don't mind, do you think we could get back to the fighting again? He pulled her to her feet and handed her the double-bladed staff. Kura took it with a scowl, thinking, Who is this rookie, who thinks he can baby a Council Senior?

Drop the shield, monk, she growled.

My name's Miroku.

I don't care, just drop the damned shield!

Miroku smiled good-naturedly and released the shield. You have bit of a temper, eh? Kura answered by spearing a vampire in the bowels and forcing the blade up through the stomach and between the ribs before freeing the staff with a jerk. Grinning, Miroku turned to smack the vampire sneaking up behind him on the side of the head. A piece of ancient parchment shot towards the stunned vamp and stuck to the skin of his forehead. Yelling in agony, the vampire tried to pull of the warding spell, but at a word from Miroku the spell scroll ignited and the vampire exploded in a spray of blood.

The remaining three vampires moved warily to circle Miroku; the Nosferatu stepped in front of Kura, his raised hand clutching a ball of electricity. As he threw it, she dove to the right, curling into a forward roll and rising to her feet in one smooth, practiced motion. She dodged two more as well. Skirting around the smoldering pockmarks in the grass, she tensed and leapt directly into the center of the next electricity ball, holding her staff across her body. The electricity yielded to the strong warding spells engraved on the staff; the lightning parted to allow her to charge through it.

An expression of shock was frozen on the Nosferatu's face even after Kura sliced through the jugular and felt the cold, thick blood run down the shaft of the staff. Behind her, Miroku was holding off a dagger-wielding vamp when, suddenly, two inches of blade protruded from the vamp's stomach. Kura walked over calmly to retrieve her throwing knife from the corpse's back.

Miroku called. How do you know it's dead? A knife in the back might kill it eventually, but Miroku knew it wouldn't kill a vampire instantly.

Miko blood on the blade. Trust me, rookie, I know how to kill a vamp.

Miko's blood?

Shit, kid, you come out here to fight a gang of vamps, and you don't even know the first thing about how to fight them. You keep sticking your neck out like that, you're gonna lose your head. More importantly, you put those around you in danger as well. She glared at Miroku until he dropped his eyes, embarrassed. Then she continued, in a softer tone, You hurt? You're covered in blood.

Miroku looked down at himself and swore. My parents are gonna kill me if I go home looking like this.

Rolling her eyes, Kura sighed. I've got an apartment 15 minutes walk from here. You can clean up there.

Thanks. But we don't have to walk; we can use my bike. The bike was a shiny black two-seater motorcycle. Kura pulled on one of the helmets and sat down in the front seat.

Hey, I'm driving! Miroku protested.

I'm not about to let you splatter me across the pavement. I'm the one who knows how to get to my apartment, anyway. Miroku sighed and climbed on behind her. Kura snapped. With a snort of disbelief, Miroku took the helmet.

We just nearly got killed by vampires, and you're afraid of a motorcycle crash?

Take stupid risks and you get killed. When he had strapped on the helmet, Kura started the engine and drove it to the parking lot beside her apartment building. Miroku wondered how she had learned to drive a motorcycle; was she a yakuza girl? When they reached her apartment, she grabbed Miroku's hand and pressed his palm against the door. she spoke clearly, The ward lowered, Kura unlocked the door and ushered Miroku in.

Removing his shoes just inside the door, Miroku couldn't help noticing that the apartment was a dump, and messy as well. After sealing the door's barrier again, Kura kicked off her boots and flopped onto the only furniture in the room, an old couch with its stuffing falling out. It was covered with food- and bloodstains. The bathroom's through the kitchen. There should be an extra towel and some spare clothes in the closet. Wake me when you're done. Without even unstrapping the belt holding her throwing daggers, she closed her eyes and was instantly asleep.

Bemused, Miroku went into the tiny bathroom and showered. Most of the blood was from the vampires, but he discovered a painful cut on his right shoulder. When he climbed out, he couldn't find a towel anywhere in the closet, but he did find plenty of spare clothing of all sizes. Why does she keep all this around? he wondered while he toweled his long hair dry with a little girls' dress. He managed to find clothing to wear, though the pants were rather baggy; he found a belt to hold them up. He also found a giant first-aid kit, complete with 1/4 mile cloth bandages, 2 liters of various antiseptics, enough aspirin to knock out an elephant, several needles and medical thread. Did she actually stitch up her own wounds? He cut off a length of bandage to wrap the wound and sloshed on some of the antiseptic. Ouch, that stung!

Miroku tried to wake Kura, but she was so deeply asleep that neither his voice nor his shaking of her shoulder brought her around. Watching her sleep, Miroku realized how young she was. He would guess that she was about his own age, though the lines of anxiety creasing her forehead had made her look much older. He decided move her to her bed so that she wouldn't fall off the couch in the middle of the night. He carried her in his arms, surprised at how heavy her compact, muscular body was. In the only other room in the house, he found two futons. Did she live with someone else? One of the beds hadn't been made in days, but the other was tucked in with fresh, clean sheets. Beside clean bed were more bandages, a medical thermometer and a stethoscope. I guess she brings people hurt in the fight here to treat them.

Miroku knew he should probably leave, but he was exhausted and didn't want to drive the twenty-five minutes back to the shrine where he lived with his mother, grandfather, little sister and godmother. After placing the young woman-- what was her name?-- on the messy bed and tucking her in, he used his cell to leave tell his parents he was sleeping over with a friend, lay down on the neat futon and fell asleep within minutes.