Chapter 9

A Low and Dirty Trick

They're gonna come real low

To wreck us all

They're gonna come in rows

With a fire on 'em

The fire in your blood

It resonates

The fire in your blood

It's understated

-Campdogzz, The Well

When the cold hand grasped her she thought she was going to die.

When it tossed her, like a child's plaything after he tired of it, and she hit the wall, she thought she was dead.

But then she wouldn't be struggling to breathe.

Every time she took in oxygen she felt as if her chest would explode. One of her ribs was certainly broken. Groaning in pain and confusion, she looked up from her huddled position by the door. The dark, blurry mass that had broken Taisho's barrier of glass and magic flowed towards her. Biting her lip to keep her scream within, she reached for the sword that, miraculously, she had kept hold of. The force of the impact against the wall had knocked it out of her hands. She dragged it across the floor, eyes never leaving the thing before her.

The wretched thing stood nearly seven feet tall. A sable cape, so black it looked like it was cut from the night, fluttered around its massive shoulders. Black hair, like strings of satin, hung and melded into the darkest depths of the cloak. But it was the face that sent terror sparking through her body. Sallow and pale, bordering on opaque, it looked of death and decay. A single red eye rolled lazily, its companion socket empty, a hole that lead to nothing. It smiled, revealing white teeth, sharpened to points, perfect for ripping flesh.

Give me the sword.

Kagome, in agony, crawled backward across the floor; unsure whether she would be able to stand if she tried. Every portion of her body was screaming at her. The part of her mind that always remained sarcastic, her coping mechanism, taunted her: should have kept that gym pass, then at least you'd be able to lift the sword.

Kagome inched herself over to the door, holding her ribs with one hand, the other still clasping the sword, straining to pull it up to her body.

Give me the sword.

Kagome moved the straining muscles of her right arm, silently pleading with the weapon, cursing her neglected gym membership, and hoping Taisho, damn him, would appear to save her. She suddenly identified with every princess locked in every tower.

Please, please, she implored the sword, please let me lift you.

The misty substance that rolled off the sword intensified, curling and wrapping around her. And then, the sword she had been fighting to keep her grip on, lightened.

Survival instinct had taken over. Kagome didn't question it. At the present moment, she could not have cared less. She removed the hand that she was using to try and hold her ribs together and placed it on the hilt. She rose, shakily, but she found her feet.

The dark demonic creature was only a few feet away from her, a strange dark mist similar to the one around the sword building behind it. The dark cloak around its form lifted, its tattered edges reaching out, snaking toward her, intent on catching her. Kagome reached a hand behind her, fumbling, fingers clasping around the cold doorknob. As the weaving, dark tendrils shot toward her, she turned the doorknob and the door opened, carrying her back and into the hallway.

Scrambling to her feet she darted down the corridor, carrying the sword with her, stumbling. A horrible inhuman screech and the thundering sound of pursuit followed her down the hall. She felt something reach around her ankle and tighten painfully, wrenching her off her feet. She hit the ground, landing on the side that already screamed with pain.

Get up get up get up get up-

Kagome rolled up, swallowing an excruciating cry, and brought the sword down on the dark claw digging into her flesh. The sword sliced through and the creature screamed, drawing back. Using the sword to prop herself up, she fell against the wall, panting. She couldn't run. There was no way she'd make it more than a few steps. Her lungs were barely functioning. She could hardly put weight on her bleeding ankle. She held the sword in front of her, and it shook in her grasp.

The creature was hunched over, cradling one of the extensions of its cloak, keening dreadfully. Slowly, it looked up at her, its one eye blazing with red fire. Hissing like a wounded animal, the darkness behind it swelled, dozens of tattered cloak remnants charging toward her. Kagome swung the sword, trying to see all attacks at once. With a surge of power, the blackness swarmed toward her, dodging her ill-aimed sword swipes, wrapping neatly around her throat.

Cradled in darkness, she felt the world dim.

Give me the sword.

"Why don't you take it from me if you want it so badly?"

She heard a growl that made the air hum, the cracking of bones in her neck, and then she was floating.

-0-

Taisho vaulted over the staircase rail landing on the ground his knee lightly brushing the spotless wooden floor. He crouched, gathering his strength, and dashed forward, pools of white light gathering in his hands, seeping to his fingertips. As he rounded the corner he felt the tickle of cursed magic burn at his skin. Before he could halt his steps, he slammed, shoulder first, into solid air. Snarling in fury, he raked glowing fingertips across the unseen wall, neatly dissecting it in two.

He took a single step into the hallway and reacted raised his forearm at the same time a flash of silver sliced through the air. He felt the rip of skin and tissue as the attack glanced off, the protective measure shielding his face and eyes. Lowering his arm, he looked up and sneered.

The woman standing before him smiled coyly, blood red mouth a slash across her face, fluttering a pretty Japanese fan. She might have been beautiful if she wasn't filled with shadows and brokenness. And maybe, had fewer shark teeth, Taisho thought.

To her left side, what was left of the window she had broken through sparkled with the dying light of Taisho's magical barrier.

"Ah, Taisho," she said, the skin around her eyes wrinkling as she smiled behind the fan, "I've missed you."

The light at his fingertips extended, shafts of glowing white solidifying. He held his fingers up before his eyes, examining the claw-like appendages, a grim, knowing smile twisting his handsome lips. The woman cocked her head and lowering the fan, her blood red lips pulling back into an even more grim facsimile of a smile.

"Kagura, move."

"Ooooh, so bossy. I like a man who knows his mind. But no, I don't think I will."

Taisho leapt forward, graceful easily. The razor-sharp shafts of light sliced through the air, creating a white line of blurred movement. Kagura danced away from his attacks, flipping her fan through the air as he slid past, sending her strange energy at his back. The energy shifted, solidified, much as the power in Taisho's hands had. In the blink of an eye, it morphed into thick silver blades born on her makeshift wind. Taisho spun to the side, feeling the snag of the blades against his clothing.

Ha!

He still had it.

Heedless of the adversary at his back he ran, intent on a woman and a sword.

Ahead of him, a door burst open and said woman tumbled out, clutching the sword. She was hardly down for a second before she was back on her feet, running, a dark essence pounding across the floor behind her. He worked his throat to call out to her, but found instead, the curious sensation of pain tearing through his left arm.

Ok, so maybe he didn't have it.

It pained him greatly to have to admit it.

But maybe he was a tad rusty.

It couldn't be helped! After the demon was sealed away Taisho had lost most of his power. And for hundreds of years he hadn't needed that power to defeat enemies. It was pretty boring, actually. No real challenges at all.

Taisho had been confident he wouldn't meet anyone his equal until the demon reappeared. He had trained and learned the way his newly weak body functioned. He knew that he was not frail by human standards, still immensely powerful when compared, but he had become overly confident in his security. Complacent.

What had his father said? Complacency was the downfall of every warrior? Or was it arrogance?

It didn't matter, he currently had a lot of both.

Dammit.

At the height of his power, a warlord, dispensing death was as easy as breathing.

'No, you can't have my lands.' Head sliced off.

'No, I won't ally with you.' Evisceration.

'You just annoy me.' A fatal punch to the head.

But time marched on, and the world with it. No longer were there warlords and skirmishes, battles and lands to protect.

Taisho also begrudged, as he was shoved against the wall, knocking several priceless paintings to the floor, he'd allowed the world to change him, too.

It was his own fault, truly.

And now, as a result, he was wounded by an inferior adversary and Kagome…

Taisho bared his teeth as Kagura slammed one of her blades into his upper left arm and shoulder. When his eyes opened, he didn't look at the frighteningly enchanting face hovering inches from his own. His eyes went to Kagome; twenty or so feet down the hall, completely oblivious of Taisho as she waged her own battle.

"Is this the arm, Taisho?" Kagura shifted, plunging the blade in further. "Is this the arm you gave up for that bitch? When you just had to avenge her? You know, I never will understand why you protect them," she nodded to Kagome, against a wall, breathing raggedly, "you were so powerful, you could have ruled the world." She sighed like he was a disappointing child. "There's still time, you know. Take the sword from her! Kill her! You could be a king again. What's left of our people would join you."

Taisho chuckled darkly, his voice thick with controlled pain, "Careful, Kagura. That sounds like a coup. Does your master know how easily your alliance shifts? He'd kill you for even thinking that."

Her face dissolved into a beautiful, ugly mask. The light in his hands flared to life.

Before she could withdraw the blade at his shoulder and sink it in again, he thrust his fingers into her stomach, the razor-edged magic in his hands tearing over her abdomen. She stumbled back, clutching her abdomen as blood poured between her fingertips.

"Tell him I'm coming for him." He ripped the blade out of his flesh and threw it to the floor.

Reaching down, he grabbed the front of the woman's clothes, and hoisting her up off her feet, brought her face to his. "Tell him I have the sword and the woman and I'm coming for him."

Turning to face one of the many windows in the hallway, he extended his free hand and waved it dismissively. The glass exploded outward and just as casually as he might throw out the trash, he tossed her into the rain. The white-hot blast of his power propelled her through the air to slam her into a tree. The barrier he had opened immediately closed, enveloping the entire house, to keep them within and any other enemies out.

Taisho spun toward Kagome just in time to see the dark spirit wrap its claws around her throat, lift her off the ground, and hold her against the wall. Sprinting forward he flicked his wrist, the five extensions on his fingertips lengthening into one brilliant line.

He heard Kagome's voice, guttural, saw her eyes roll back, slip towards death.

-0-

Kagome was furious with him. He had the audacity to wander into her museum, order her around, tell her the most fantastic story she ever heard, inform her that she was some sort of key to saving the world, seem pretty damn adamant about protecting her, and now, he was nowhere to be found.

Men!

And all this over a silly sword. Really, Kagome thought, rather absently, now that she'd had a taste of adventure all she wanted was to have a decent job, live peacefully with her dog, and take a nap. That wasn't too much to ask, was it?

Well, apparently it was, the rational part of her brain told her because she was currently suffocating to death.

Men!

Kagome struggled futilely and with the last amount of strength she possessed, swung the blade. The grip on her neck loosened, but not enough to bring her the precious oxygen she needed.

And then, to her surprise and confusion, she heard a familiar voice.

"Give me the sword."

Well, I'm not so sure. You seem entirely undependable…

"Kagome, give me the sword."

She sighed, rather exasperated.

Fine, it's yours anyway.

She felt her hand extend, releasing her grip on the sword. And then all thought left her completely.

-0-

In her dream, Taisho held the sword in his hand, a noiseless wind swirling around his body. Hair, before white-blonde, suddenly appeared a silvery white, falling into furious golden eyes. Eyes that gazed down at the sword in his hand almost lovingly. Eyes that raised themselves to the dark mist and man controlling them, to spill fire, to slash with metal, to destroy.

-0-

Kagome woke slowly, the pain immediately making the contents of her stomach roil. Moaning, her eyes still closed, she attempted to roll over and crawl to her knees.

"No, don't move."

The voice came from above, floating downward, echoing as if it came from far away.

"What time is it?" It even hurt to speak.

"Do you really care at a time like this?"

Cracking open a throbbing eye, she could barely make out white and gold swimming above her. "Have you never owned a high maintenance dog?"

There was a shocked silence and then, rather snippily, Taisho asked, "You almost died and your first thought is of your dog and his dinner schedule?"

"Of course. Besides, whose fault is it that I almost died? Yours or my dog's?"

She opened both eyes and nearly passed out again. As everything came back into focus she found herself, lying on her back, in the middle of Taisho's hallway. She was in pain, still wet from the rain, and somewhere in the back of her numb mind, extremely upset.

"I thought you were going to make sure I didn't die."

"Are you dead?"

"I wish I was if it made you less smug."

Taisho's face appeared above her. She opened her mouth to snap at him, ignoring the aching in and around her throat, but stilled when she saw bright red blood seeping from an open wound on his shoulder.

"What in the hell happened to you?"

"Are you asking about my health or your belated rescue?"

Kagome heard the touchy note in there and not really in the mood to argue, covered her eyes with a hand and mumbled, "Both."

She felt herself lifted to a sitting position.

"Ow, ow!" She swatted him away and immediately regretted the action. "My rib is broken and my neck is hurt! Gently!"

"I thought I was."

She looked up at him and glared. He stepped away from her, letting her sit in her pain, adjusting. As she gave her body time to calm down, she watched him.

He paced back and forth, slowly, languidly, as if testing his legs. It was then that Kagome saw the sword in his hand.

"Oh!" She exclaimed.

He glanced over his bleeding shoulder and then looked to where her gaze was directed.

"You seem to have somehow given me permission to my own blade."

He smirked with the kind of arrogance that only someone with a lot of money or a really good right hook could.

She blinked, suddenly realizing. He looked different.

His hair, as it had been in her dream, was now a curious white-silver, capturing and reflecting the dull light around them. It was longer now, too. He could barely pull it out of his way before. It was to his shoulders now and despite his disheveled appearance, it looked quite attractive. He still looked like the Taisho she had met the day before, despite the few physical changes. It was more that the presence around him that had changed. He was absolutely brimming with power.

If she didn't believe his story before, she did now. There was no room for argument in her mind, as she gazed at him. He was, without a doubt, a powerful being. The very air hummed with his authority.

Not to mention he looked every inch a king or warlord.

And those eyes! They were entirely golden. The word tantalizing came to mind. She was certain she could gaze into those irises and never tire of the depth that lay within. His white dress shirt, though torn, rain and blood-soaked, might as well have been made of the finest silk.

Now that, inner Kagome crowed, is a man.

Abort abort abort.

Mentally and physically Kagome shook herself. Now was not the time.

"Can we move to a part of the house that doesn't have a hole in it?" he was asking. He stooped down beside her and offered a hand.

"Is it safe?"

He held the blade in front of her eyes, jiggling it slightly as if to point out she had asked a silly question.

"Fine."

He reached to her back and removed the scabbard. Sliding the sword into its sheath he slipped the sash over his chest, freeing his hands. Carefully, and Kagome was grateful for his gentle touch, he gathered her into his arms, well aware that she was not of the mind or body to walk on her own. Mindful of her hurting ribs and various other injuries, he carried her away from the ruined hallway.

She tried not to, but she couldn't help it. She turned to gaze at his face. She was only going to take a moment to admire it! Just a look!

But here, so close to him, she thought she could see strange, vague marks on his cheekbone. Had he been injured further? Before she could examine them, he raised an eyebrow at her and she hastily turned her head away.

They made their way through the house, up a flight of stairs and into Taisho's master suite. Kagome raised her own eyebrow at this but he didn't seem intent on striking a mood so she relaxed. He took her into the bathroom and propped her on the lip of the tub. Removing the sword and sheath from his back, he leaned down and pulled out a first aid kit.

Kagome took it from him and found the necessary bandages and medicines she needed to treat the cuts and scrapes that dotted her body. With the utmost care, she removed the oversized jacket that Taisho had given her earlier that day and let it fall to the floor. Taisho watched her carefully.

That didn't make her nervous and twitchy at all.

When she leaned down to examine her ankle she bit back a cry of pain.

"Right. Ribs. Broken."

Gasping for her air she leaned back, trying to relieve the pressure and steady her thoughts. While there were a million things she needed Taisho to explain to her, a thousand questions running a track around her brain, for her, foremost in her mind was her well being. And of course, feeding Ajax.

"I think I need to go to the hospital," she murmured, touching her hand to her side, wincing.

Taisho shifted, hesitant.

"I haven't healed in centuries. But I do have the ability. I could try if you would like."

"What? Seriously?"

He shrugged and Kagome was almost going to ask him if he could fly, too, but the pain of breathing was becoming overwhelming.

She nodded her agreement, wincing. "As long as the side effects of rusty healing aren't my death or the dismemberment of any appendage I might need."

"I highly doubt that would ever be the case."

"Then, please, have at it."

He came forward and knelt before her, extending one hand to her side and the other to her neck, where her skin had started to bruise from the attempted strangulation.

"You seem to be taking this all in stride," he said. "I thought you didn't believe my story."

"Well," she winced as he applied pressure to her ribs, "that was before a 7-foot tall monster chased me through your mansion. That thing was fucked up, by the way."

"Indeed."

"I also think that I might be in shock," she said as if she were puzzling over what to eat and not how closely she brushed death. "I don't usually handle things this calmly. I never handle things this calmly," she paused, reaching, trying to see if there were panic and fear somewhere beneath the surface waiting to boil up and over. Nope. Nothing but harrowing exhaustion and a touch of bemusement. "I'm sure if you give me time, I'll either be hysterical or furious. Probably both. And probably soon." Her words stilled as a strange warmth filled her body, making her shiver, the pain immediately subsiding. "What an odd sensation. It feels like a warm bath after sledding in the snow for too long."

A confused and concerned look crossed his removed his hands and stood again, "Does that mean you're free from pain?"

She took a deep breath and when it didn't feel like she was being stabbed repeatedly between the ribs, she nodded, "Yes, thank you."

"It's the least I can do."

"I did give you your sword back, didn't I?"

He picked up the sword, pulling it from its sheath, "You did indeed."

"How did that happen? I thought you said it took years for you to wield the sword."

Taisho held the blade in front of his eyes, examining the perfect curvature of the edge, "It did take years. However, you are a different person entirely, and the circumstances surrounding this," he gestured, searching for the word, "this threat, are entirely different. I also think you have a different relationship with both the sword and me."

"What do you mean?" Kagome lifted her foot hissing as she applied medicine to it.

"We met under considerably friendlier circumstances. You had more reason to trust me than the previous Protector. The sword understands what you think and feel. The first time I went after the Protector I took her from her home and family." He paused, voice quiet, "And I am a different man than I once was." Kagome looked up at him but he was already past whatever memory had risen from the grave of time. "The sword also responds differently to you. I've never known the weight to change but when I took it from you it was lighter, light enough for you to carry in your hands. It immediately returned to its former weight in mine."

"What does that mean?"

The man shook his head. "Maybe you have a measure of control over it that its previous Protector didn't? I can only assume. If you really want to know you should ask the sword."

Kagome laughed. She thought he was kidding. "Can it do that? Explain things?"

The man frowned deeply. "It can do a lot of things."

Yikes. Ok. Sore subject.

She turned back to trying to wrap her ankle. She was doing a terrible job so it was only a minute of struggling before Taisho sheathed the sword and did it himself.

"What happened?" she asked, watching him work. "What exactly were those demon things?"

"They were demons."

"Yeah, the teeth and creepy voice in my head gave that away."

"They were lesser demons who serve my enemy. I assume their mission was to either incapacitate or kill me," he gestured to the wound on his shoulder, "and bring the sword and or you to their master. The demoness has been a subordinate and ally of his for centuries." Almost thoughtfully he said, "I killed her once, but apparently, she's resurrected."

"Right. Righrightright," Kagome said in one breath. "Resurrected. Great. Fantastic. Attempted kidnapping by demons. And the demon who was so intent on choking the living daylights out of me?"

"He was a shell of the demon lord."

Kagome felt the air leave the room. "Sorry, shell? Of the big bad guy? Like, the guy who has a beef with you?"

Taisho returned his eyes to the blade. "Yes. The demon can send vessels that carry his essence. They aren't his true form. It's meant to both trick and intimidate. They're usually very stupid and only capable of accomplishing one or two specific tasks."

"Like choking the living daylights out of me?"

He was courteous enough to look a little more regretful about it this time. "Yes," he said shortly.

Kagome could think of nothing else to say besides, "Oh."

He tied off the bandage and rose to a stand. Kagome leaned down and hugged her knees, trying to impart warmth over her body and maybe just give herself a little 'you can do it' hug. She needed a serious pep talk, too.

Taisho walked out and back in with a pair of sweats and a shirt. He tossed them at her.

"Put those on."

Kagome eyed the garments with a measure of disapproval. "I think these might be a bit big for me."

"Or you could go naked."

"You're a bastard."

He closed the door and Kagome deflated. She hadn't even realized how much he was putting her on edge. It was like every part of her was constantly aware of him.

Stripping off her rain-soaked clothes she pulled on his pants and snorted at their size. With trembling hands, she cinched the tie and wondered how long it was for the horror of tonight to catch up with her.

"Does this demon have a name?" she called, lifting her voice so he could hear her through the door. She squeezed the moisture out of her hair and pulled the t-shirt on over her damp bra. In the mirror over the sink, she caught a glimpse of her face.

"Oh, yuck," she said to herself. She looked like someone had beat the ever loving shit out of her.

She was also wearing, she realized, a very touristy shirt with 'Tokyo' emblazoned across the chest. She emerged from the bathroom, grinning.

"You don't seem like the graphic t-shirt wearing kind of guy. I thought you'd be all cuff links and shiny shoes."

Taisho, who was running his hand over the injury on his shoulder, paused long enough to scowl at her. "Yes, he does have a name," ignoring her nettling. "Onigumo. That was what he chose to call himself when first we met anyway."

Kagome rolled up the pant legs of the sweats and sighed deeply. "So, what do we do now?" When he didn't answer she looked up to see his face awash with an incredulous look. "What?"

"We?"

"Well, you have the sword now. But what do we need to do to keep those bad guys-"

"Demons."

"-Demons! from coming after me again? They know who I am now, right? What if," she twisted the t-shirt tail anxiously, "what if they come for me again?" Taisho was staring at her with the most stunned look of confusion she had ever seen. They both came to the same conclusion at the same time. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Did you not even consider what would happen to me if they figured out who I was in all this?"

"Yes?" he said.

"Is that a question!?"

"No." She gaped at him. "I don't know. I hadn't thought much past getting the sword."

"CLEARLY. Are there going to be demons jumping out at me every time I set foot outside my door? Do I need to get my own fucking psychic sword?"

As if it heard them talking about it, the sword began to hum, the sound danced around the room. Both Kagome and Taisho looked toward the sword at the same time. Taisho lifted the weapon free from its scabbard and a strange light danced along the blade, filling the room from floor to ceiling.

"I think it may have something to say about this," the man said darkly.

He sounded deeply unhappy like someone had popped his favorite balloon.

Before Kagome could really let him have it the light intensified, nearly blinding her.

Taisho had not expected this. Never in any of the thousand scenarios he ran in his head had he thought the sword would accept him so quickly. Was it her? Was it the sword? Could it be this easy? Now that his weapon was back he knew he could handle what was to come. He did not need to drag an unwilling young woman across the world.

But if he led his enemies on a chase she'd be fine, surely. She could live a seemingly normal life and forget these two strange and turbulent days.

Taisho raised the sword with his uninjured arm, feeling the power wash over him with the titanic force of a tsunami wave.

And in his mind's eye, he saw her plucked from the street and delivered into the hands of his enemies, saw her maimed and broken. Saw her, throat slit, bleeding out on her own bed. He thought he heard her cry his name.

He had not expected the power of the sword to fight him. Not like this.

That's a low and dirty trick, he thought. She's served her purpose.

Mmmmnope, the sword seemed to say back.

Dammit.

Taisho lowered the blade and opened his eyes. Kagome perched against his bed, staring at him expectantly, a hopeful expression lighting her face.

The man grimaced and sheathed the blade with a vigorous thrust.

"How do you feel about international travel?"