Chapter 5
The Haunting
The night was dark. The wind howled eerily through the trees.
Amon had just gotten out of the bath, and he was getting ready to shave. Robin was in the bathroom. The folding screen flickered with the light of the fire behind it as Robin used her power to heat the bathwater.
The corner of Amon's lips flicked into a smile.
It was true, what he'd told Yuji: he was happy here, with Robin.
Would he be able to kill her if the time came?
He could. He swore to himself that he could. He had to.
The orange flickering of the fire stopped, and he heard the water slosh as Robin climbed into the tub.
He found it hard to imagine Robin ever becoming corrupted by her power. But it could happen, someday. He would never let his guard down. He would never abandon her.
Maybe he should tell her about his past, about his feelings.
No. He couldn't. He might have to hunt Robin someday. She couldn't know his vulnerabilities.
On the other hand...
An extra violent gust of wind rattled the cottage. It sounded like some terrible creature trying to force its way in.
He saw a shadow move in his mirror.
He spun around, holding his razor like a knife. He saw nothing.
Slowly stepping sideways, he fished his gun out of the inner pocket of his coat.
There was a sudden sharp pain in his shoulder. He looked down to see if he was bleeding. He wasn't.
He looked back up just as a dark blur launched itself at him.
With a startled grunt, he fell back and rolled out of the way. The basin crashed to the floor, spilling water across a tatami mat.
"You," he breathed.
"Always."
At the sound of a crash from Amon's room, Robin jumped out of the bath and threw on her yukata. She opened the screen door in a rush.
A black-clad woman with wild sandy brown hair and a face full of fury was choking Amon, holding him to the floor.
"No!"
Robin raised her hand and a tongue of fire burst between the woman and Amon. The stranger drew back, and sent a glare of hatred in Robin's direction.
"No," she stated coldly, like she was denying her permission to interfere.
Dark coils entered the room, slithering through cracks and out of shadows. They sprang toward both Robin and Amon.
Without conscious choice, Robin's counter-attack was directed against the threats to Amon. But the tendrils of darkness were unaffected by her fireballs. And the room was getting blurry. Without her glasses, using her power caused Robin to lose focus and depth perception.
She saw the blond woman go after Amon again. She lauched a spear of fire at her; burning down the cottage was a risk she couldn't think about at the moment.
She heard Amon cry out in pain, but the woman retreated, hopping backward into the shadowy corner of the room.
The tendrils of darkness were gone.
Robin, a ball of fire crackling in her hand, advanced to where the woman had gone.
Then she stopped. The fire fizzled out. The stranger had disappeared. There was no door or window in the corner of the room, nothing she could hide behind, but Robin couldn't see her. She was gone like she was never there.
After a moment, Robin turned around to face Amon, who was kneeling on the floor. She sprinted to him.
"Amon, are you hurt?"
"No." His voice sounded raspy and weak.
She looked at his neck, where the woman had been choking him. There was no sign of injury.
"My powers had no effect on that attack. What was it? That woman... She just vanished, like she was a ghost."
"Not a ghost," Amon muttered.
He was pressing one hand to his bare chest. There was a red mark there from when a stray lick of flame had gone off course.
"I burned you!" Robin said in horror. "I'm so sorry."
"It's fine."
She touched his hand that covered the burn, and gently pried it away to get a look at it. It was just a first-degree burn. It wasn't serious, but it must have been painful.
"I'm so sorry," she repeated. Her eyes flicked over him, looking for any other injuries. She saw the wound on his shoulder. The skin around it looked puffy. "Was this…" She gently prodded around the puncture.
Amon snatched her hand away abruptly. She looked at him with confusion. "I'm sorry."
He just looked back at her, but his hand slowly slackened and he released hers.
"You said that wasn't a ghost. Who was she? A Witch?"
He shook his head.
"We should leave. We're not safe here."
That roused him, and he stood up and rubbed his head. "No. We're as safe here as we will be anywhere."
"I don't understand."
He said nothing, and looked away.
"Amon, you know I trust you completely. If you say we're safe here, I believe you. But please, just tell me, what's going on?"
"Tomorrow," he said. "Let's talk in the morning."