"There's no good way to tell this story," Hiei said, his low voice filling her bedroom's quiet spaces. Kalanie let it envelop her, cocooning herself in its rough protections. At some imprecise moment since she'd last sat in this bed, during some blurred instance of her captivity, he'd become the only solid thing in her life—the one person she could count on—and though he'd failed her since then, it was hard not to fall back into the steady comfort he'd come to mean for her.

"I've said why I came for you. We thought you might hold answers or have the means to get them. At the time, I hadn't realized what he'd done to you—what he was doing to you." He paused a moment, and she felt the prickle of his attention on her, but she didn't open her eyes. She couldn't bear to look at him as he recalled how broken she'd been before he'd pieced her back together.

Tears brimmed along her lashes, and she ducked her head into her knees. "I'm sorry," she whispered, the apology catching pitifully. "You thought I was better than I was, but I'm not, Hiei. I can't do what you told me to. My chains… I don't know how to break them."

The blankets rustled. He curled a hand around her ankle. An odd gesture. And yet, somehow, precisely what she'd needed.

"I didn't understand," he said. "Before, I'd imagined the Sovereign Binds acted like my Jagan. It can control those weaker than me. For a time. But it can be fought. Blocked out. Overpowered. I'd assumed the Binds were the same. I was wrong."

She said nothing.

With a gentleness she wouldn't have thought him capable of, he stroked his thumb across her ankle bone. His coarse calluses scraped across her smooth skin.

A delicious, distracting tingle shot through her.

After a beat, Hiei continued. "If I could have extracted you, I would have. Then and there. But I couldn't take that fortress alone. Not even the dragon could fight the entire puppet army housed within its barracks."

"So you convinced me to stay." Regardless of what it meant for her, despite witnessing how Masaru tormented her, he'd still argued for her to remain there. A prisoner indefinitely.

"We needed information."

A fact. Simple. Cold.

"Is that all I was worth? Information?"

Hiei's thumb stilled. "Are you listening to me? I'd have gotten you out if there were a means to do so. I won't say it again. Whether you believe me or or not is your choice, but I won't stay if you insist on acting as though I abandoned you."

"Yet that's exactly what you did."

"Stop—" His jaw clacked shut. Yet again, he rephrased his next thought, careful not to issue an unintended order. "If you'll let me explain rather than interrupting, perhaps you'll realize I never left you at all."

Blinking away the last vestiges of her tears, she snuck a glance at him. His crimson eyes blazed back, full of a conviction she couldn't quite name. "Sorry. I'll stop."

"Good." His tongue flitted out to wet his lips. "I asked you to remain there because it was the only option. If we didn't learn more about Taku's operation, we would lose this war. The barrier would remain down. You'd be forever trapped. Spying on them was the only way forward."

She picked her next words carefully, trying not to argue. "I'm not sure I understand. If you were in Masaru's head, why couldn't you have gotten your information through him. Why did you need me?"

"I told you. If he'd sensed me, he could've locked me out. Then we'd have gotten nothing."

"But he hasn't locked you out. Even now, you're in his mind, aren't you?"

"Not the way I was within yours." His gaze cut into her. "I can't see what he sees. Or hear what he hears. I'm blocked out of his thoughts, even if he can't be rid of me entirely. I've enough hold to compel you, if it comes to that, and I know where he is roughly, but nothing more."

Oh.

The pad of his thumb stirred back into motion, circling the knob of bone protruding from her ankle. His heat sank into her skin, settling in her joints. "My plan, at the start, was to monitor your days. To gather information, yes, but more to determine how I might free you. I'd hoped Masaru might take you from the stronghold. If he had, I'd have attacked."

"But he didn't."

"No. You stayed within those walls. Out of reach. So I kept waiting." His fingers flexed against her leg, tightening and releasing, then constricting once more. "Learning about the second Shell complicated things. There were time constraints. If I didn't get you out quickly, we'd lose not just you, but the barrier around the shrine."

Though she'd promised to stay quiet, she couldn't help but whisper, "But you left. As if none of it mattered, you up and left."

He answered with matter-of-fact patience. "I didn't. You wouldn't give me the opportunity to explain, but that doesn't change the truth. I didn't go anywhere, Kalanie."

"You were gone. I know you were. I felt you go." A knot rose in her throat.

His hand slip up her leg, curving around her calf. "I had to leave your mind, but I remained within Masaru's. If you'd listened, I would have told you. The power the Jagan needed to keep my connection to you was a drain. Constant and unrelenting. Doubly so because I had to maintain contact with Masaru in order to remain linked with you.

"When Yusuke and Kurama decided they needed me, I had to make a choice. I couldn't stay within your mind and Masaru's and have the ability to reach the oaf as well. Even if I could, I certainly wouldn't help win any wars." He rocked his head back against the wall, glaring up at the ceiling. In the dimly lit room, his Jagan glowed like a beacon. "So I chose. Against Kurama's better judgment, I maintained my presence inside Masaru, but I had to leave you."

Guilt drummed in her pulse. "I didn't realize…"

"How could you? For all your claims to know our powers, I knew you couldn't understand the Jagan. Few do."

She fiddled with the dirty knees of her pants. When Kuwabara had put her to bed, he'd left her in the uniform Masaru had dictated for her yesterday. After her twin fights with Hiei, the cloth was worse for wear. With her thumbnail, she scraped away soil ground into the threads. "You were keeping an eye on me."

"Hn."

"That's how you knew where we were. How you found that research facility."

"I'd planned to disconnect from Masaru once I reached the others. If I were distracted by him—by you—during battle, I'd be no use. But I never got that far. When he woke you, I was still an hour out from the rendezvous point with Yusuke. As soon as I read his intentions, I contacted Kurama. Changed our plans."

"Came back for me."

"Yes."

Huffing, he dragged his free palm down his face and rubbed at his eyes. For the first time since he'd burst into the laboratory, she took him in, really and truly, noticing the dark bags sunken above his cheeks, the lines of fatigue and pallor in his cheeks. Had he not slept last night? For that matter, when had he returned to the shrine? Had Yusuke and Kurama and the rest been with him?

He spoke before she could ask, delving into the one topic he'd left unearthed so far. "You may not understand them, but I had my reasons for saving you instead of Nomi."

Her concern over his exhaustion evaporated. "Care to explain them?"

"First you should know what they hoped to achieve—"

"I already do. Taku wanted to bring down the shrine's barrier, and my energy was to serve as their power source. So what? You still could've saved my brother."

"And then what? You witnessed the way the Shell functions yourself, weeks ago, the first time we attempted Nomi's rescue. Can you think of where freeing Nomi would have left us if they still held you?"

He waited for her to put the pieces together, and in the silence, her thoughts flicked back to that horrid day of waiting, the tortured hours she'd spent in Mazou's company anticipating the barrier's return.

When Taku's army had moved Nomi, the barrier hadn't risen immediately. If Masaru's explanation was to be believed, Taku had built some sort of energy reserve, some means of powering the interference machine that disabled the barrier even without Nomi fueling the Shell. With its assistance, the shield's rise occurred on a delay. That lag had served as an easy deception, catching the detectives off-guard and ruining their rescue attempt, but she hadn't given it more weight than that before.

It still seemed irrelevant now.

Hiei loosed a frustrated growl. "Must I spell it out? The barrier would have remained down for a time. With you installed in the secondary Shell, they'd still have the means to bring down the temple's shield, and without the world barrier, their army could advance on us unimpeded."

Which would have left the shrine vulnerable.

"I don't…" She trailed off uncertainly. The rage that had fueled her flickered, fading before the reality Hiei presented. "I don't see how that matters. If Yusuke and the others killed the new puppeteers in the Forest of Fools, you could have held the shrine."

"Hn. Not likely."

She bit her lip. "Their forces—"

"Would beat us," he interrupted. "Without doubt. Even if Kuwabara managed to bring our main fighters back from the Forest of Fools in time, they'd still be weary. The fight against those puppeteers wasn't easy. If Taku brought fresh soldiers against us, we'd have lost."

"Back up," she said, holding out a hand to stop him. "Explain the battle against the new puppeteers. I don't see how they could be such a fearsome enemy. Without puppets, they're nothing."

"They weren't alone."

Oh.

The hand he'd wrapped around her calf squeezed lightly. "Now you see?"

Not entirely. But she was beginning to.

"After you observed the map of their deployments, I relayed that intelligence to Kurama. In turn, he informed Yomi, who dispatched a contingent of spies to the Forest of Fools. They discovered mercenaries around the puppeteer's encampment—employed by Taku, surely. That's why Yusuke felt a direct strike was necessary. Immediately. If Taku had gone to such lengths to protect the puppeteers, no doubt they were vital to his war efforts."

Her last tenuous grip on her anger failed. "Why didn't you tell me all this before you left?"

"You wouldn't let me."

"Because you told me you were leaving. Blunt and without preface. I couldn't know all this, not on my own, but you could have told me. You could have started with your reasons. Instead, you left me in the dark."

"I was pressed for time." He frowned pensively at the blanket scrunched around her feet as he added, "I won't claim I handled it properly."

She barked a hollow laugh. "You can say that again."

He leveled her with a cool glare, remote and firmly guarded. "But you understand now? Rescuing Nomi would have been no rescue at all."

She did. She saw that.

But it didn't mend her heartbreak. Not in the slightest.

"He's dying," she whispered. A sob caught in her teeth, so sudden and unexpected that even her attempts to hold it back weren't enough to stop a faint whimper passing her lips. "The Shell is killing him. You saw that, didn't you?"

"Hn."

"We need to save him. Hiei… I can't let him die like that. Alone. In pain." She grabbed his wrist, wrapping her slim fingers around his taut flesh. His tendons flexed beneath her grip, but he didn't pull away. "I still don't see why you couldn't save us both. Once I broke his Shell, you could have cut down his harness—"

"There was no time. Maintaining a portal weakens Kuwabara. Quickly. If he kept the rift open longer, he risked not being able to bring Yusuke and Kurama back from the Forest of Fools."

"So you chose me."

His chin dipped a degree in assent. "I chose you."

"And what becomes of my brother?"

"The fox is already formulating plans."

She sat upright, the motion closing the gap beneath her calf and thigh, pinning his hand in place. Its heat bled through her pants. "What do you mean?"

"After I returned you here, I joined the fight in the Forest of Fools. Their mercenaries disbanded before a tri-pronged attack from Yusuke, Jin, and Touya, while I joined Kurama in leading Chu, Rinku, and Shishiwakamaru against the puppeteers. We eliminated them." He bared his teeth in a prideful snarl. "Now, we own the advantage."

Which meant they would press it, for as long as they could, as hard as they could.

Hiei shifted toward her, leaning closer. The warmth cast from his chest seeped into her shins. "A few more precise strikes at their outposts will reduce Taku's army enough to give us a chance in a final fight. That's how we save Nomi."

"When? How soon do we make our move?"

He cocked a singular brow. "We?"

"I'm not staying here. Not anymore. If you can override Masaru's compulsions, then there's nothing to stop me joining you."

"Hn. I can only best him by compelling you in turn."

She tightened her hold on him, sliding her hand up his arm until her fingers reached his elbow. Supple muscle rippled under her touch, and his gaze darted to their joined arms before flitting back to her face. "If he attempts to use the Binds, you've my permission to do what you must. Keep me from him. However necessary. But don't ask me to stay behind. Not when it's my brother's life on the line."

"I'll talk to the others."

The urge to fight him—to storm from this room and demand they acquiesce that very second—swelled in her, but she wrested it aside. For just a moment, she needed to breathe, to recuperate, to remember what it felt like not to live in constant fear.

"You didn't answer my question," she murmured instead, staring at where her flesh met his, noting how pale her fingers were next to his tanned skin. He was, she realized distantly, a beautiful creature. Rugged. Rough-hewn. Built for war and death and destruction. Yet cruelly exquisite. "When do you anticipate our next fight?"

"A week. Maybe less."

Only a handful of days. But an eternity for Nomi. "Why not sooner?"

Hiei huffed a breath. "We need time to heal. Kurama is badly injured. Chu and Touya as well." He glanced away from her. "I'm not without harm either."

She blanched.

The meaning couched in his words did not fly astray. Memories of the brutal assault she'd launched against him upon their return to the shrine brought a flush to her cheeks, and she wracked her eyes over his body, looking for signs of the damage she'd wrought.

Dressings wrapped around his arm—not his right, which bore the dragon, but his left, the normally flawless stretch of fine-crafted muscle obscured beneath bloodied cloth. Slowly, fearing what she might find, she relinquished his arm and tugged at the hem of his shirt, revealing bandages wound about his middle.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, the words jumbling together in her rush to atone. "For attacking you. I shouldn't have—"

He snagged her hand in his. "Don't."

Her voice died on her tongue, whether from a compulsion or genuine surprise not even she could say.

"You don't—" He shook his head and started again. "I don't think you owe me any apologies."

"But I do—"

"No. Not for this." A muscled ticked in his jaw, and he focused on her hand with single-minded intensity, not so much as sneaking a glance her way as he said, "I failed you repeatedly. At every turn. Yet you delivered. You gave us the information we needed. You provided a means to end all this." His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he jammed his eyes closed. "It's me who needs forgiveness, but I won't ask it of you. I don't deserve—"

She moved without thinking, rising onto her knees and shifting into him. Her free hand caught his chin, tipping it back even as her sudden closeness trapped their linked palms between their chests. He blinked, caught unawares, powerless—or perhaps unwilling—to stop her, and his lips parted with surprise when she dipped her head to his. Beneath her touch, they were firm but supple, burning with the same fiery warmth as the rest of him. She lost herself in that heat, willing it to slide into her skin and curl within her bones.

Slow to respond, he remained still as stone as she slipped her hand around the back of his neck and wound her fingers into the roots of his hair. Then a growl—or was it a purr?—built in his chest, rumbling, full of possessive desire. She felt it in her palms, in her chest, in her lips, and in a flash, he'd freed the hand that had been trapped between them. His grip shifted to her hips, drawing her closer, pulling her in until her knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his thighs.

She'd expected him to seize control, to guide the kiss with the ferocity he brought to so much else, but he refrained. Though his thumbs slid beneath her shirt, tracing across her taut stomach, he let her lead.

And so, when she broke away, breathless, her chest heaving, her heartbeat erratic and wild, he remained still, his head angled upward, his lips parted just a fraction. His eyes smoldered like coals. Up close, the Jagan's purple glow painted shadows across his face, turning him unreadable.

Wetting her lips, she leaned inward until her mouth brushed his ear. He shuddered as she spoke, her breath ghosting across his skin. "I won't say I forgive you. It all seems too complicated for that. But you can make it right. We can. If we can save my brother… Well, then there wouldn't be anything to forgive."

Chuckling lowly, he snaked his arms around her waist, securing her against him. This time, his mouth found the shell of her ear. He nipped it once, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, before muttering, "Consider that a deal."

She tilted backward until she sat upon his thighs, granting herself enough space to see his face. Looking at him now, she couldn't help but recall the image he'd shown her weeks ago, when he'd saved her from the darkness—from herself. She'd corrected it, altering the smooth flow of his cheeks and curving his jaw, imbuing him with the loyalty and honor and wit she'd come to find so pivotal to his character.

Those were the things that had drawn her to him. They'd made her feel at home. Even when he'd had his katana to her throat, defending Kuwabara against a threat she hadn't yet posed, she'd still felt the pull of him like a gravitational force.

Unavoidable.

Unrelenting.

But in that moment, as he captured her lips with his once more, his hands searing her waistline with their scorching warmth, she recognized the other piece of him, too. The wounded, broken part of his soul that had called to hers from the moment they'd met.

It fit against the jagged fragments of her own person—not completing her, because that was impossible without Nomi, but shoring up her edges. Bolstering her when finding any sense of strength seemed impossible, when hope felt like a fool's dream.

And she wondered, as she lost herself beneath his callused palms and scalding mouth, whether he felt that bond, too, whether she anchored him as he did her. Did his soul spark to hers? Did he feel the link wrought like steel between them?

Or in that, like so much else, did she stand alone?

AN: At long last, a kiss!

I know Hiei talked a lot in this chapter. And perhaps that was a bit un-Hiei-like. But I think he's grown to a place with Kalanie where he isn't nearly as closed down as he usually is, especially because he felt he had to defend himself and clarify her misunderstandings.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I was dying to get to this chapter for ages and ages (because kissing!)

Thanks to all my reviewers!