The stillness of the Hikawa Shrine was broken by the sound of footsteps. Kuri stirred in her futon as her grandmother's voice pierced the quiet of the night.
"Kuri, we have a guest," Grams said. "Get up and put on your formal hakama."
Kuri blinked groggily but obeyed, slipping into the shrine's ceremonial miko attire. The layered white and red fabric felt heavy against her skin as she tied the wide sash around her waist. She stepped into the main hall, the soft glow of lanterns illuminating the room, and froze.
A man knelt in front of Chaos' altar, seated in the traditional Japanese fashion, his head bowed as he burned incense. His scarred face caught the flickering light, his shock of red hair unmistakable. He exuded an aura of quiet power, each movement deliberate and reverent.
"This man is Larten Crepsley," Grams announced, her tone as formal as Kuri had ever heard it. "He has come to see you."
"To see… me?" Kuri repeated, incredulous. Her first thought was that Grams must have misspoken. Nobody came to see her; they came for Grams. Everyone came for her. Her grandmother's reputation stretched far beyond the confines of the shrine, as did her infamous string of lovers and the remnants of her disbanded coven. Even this man had to be here for Grams.
And yet, there he was, staring straight at Kuri.
Larten stood and approached her with a measured grace. His movements were as fluid as they were unsettling. He stopped just in front of her, leaning down to part her hair and touch her forehead.
"Ah, yes," he said, his voice deep and smooth, "the Goddess' Mark is apparent on her already. And you say she has gifts?"
Kuri stepped back, alarmed. "Gifts? You mean the way I hurt those people?" She turned to her grandmother, confusion and anger rising in her voice. "Grams, what is going—?"
Her words were cut off by a sudden fit of coughing. She fell to her knees, clutching her chest as the spasms wracked her body.
"So, you remember I came here recently and took the elder sister," Larten said, his gaze shifting back to Grams.
"Yes," Grams said, her expression grim. "You said Reiko was chosen as High Priestess to the Vampyres."
Kuri's head snapped up, her chest still heaving. Vampyres? The word echoed in her mind. Everyone knew about them—humans afflicted by a condition that turned them into fledglings. Only a fraction survived the transformation to become full-fledged Vampyres, and those who did were immensely powerful. They dominated society, their influence spread across politics, celebrity, and beyond.
"Reiko is dead," Grams said bluntly, her voice devoid of emotion. "She rejected the Change. Kurda informed me this afternoon."
Kuri's breath caught. Dead? Her sister, her other half—gone. She gripped the floor as though the earth itself might swallow her whole.
"Regardless," Larten said calmly, "we must press on. Kurisuta is to be welcomed by my brethren as our High Priestess."
"Tell me," Grams said, her voice sharp, "how did you know of my granddaughter's destiny? I only know because my daughter, Atsuko, had a vision when pregnant with the twins. A vision of a future shaped by the two of them."
"I should think you know Evanna sent me," Larten replied with a wry smile.
Evanna. Kuri's mind swirled with memories of the strange woman who had once led Grams' coven. Evanna, with her frogs and her enigmatic aura, had been the only one who could quell Kuri's nightmares as a child.
Grams' lips thinned. "If you choose to take her, I must warn you… there was an incident when Atsuko was pregnant." Her voice lowered, heavy with guilt. "I had her ingest a wicked spirit for purification, unaware of the pregnancy. I have reason to believe that spirit now dwells within Kuri. It's why such a gentle child is capable of such violent behavior. I tell you this because I do not know if even you could handle her."
To Kuri's shock, Larten smiled. "I doubt that will be a problem. I have arranged for a friend of hers to join us."
Kuri's head snapped up, her coughing subsiding as anger flared in her chest. "A friend?" she growled, though the sound was low and guttural, more animal than human.
"You won't hurt Darren Shan, will you, Kuri?" Larten asked, his tone almost teasing.
Xxx
Elsewhere, under the same silver moonlight, Kiana Hikawa stood in the temple garden, staring at a rainbow cast by the soft mist in the air. She smiled, captivated by the interplay of colors. Slowly, she reached out, letting the vibrant hues fill her mind with positive energy.
Yellow reminded her of the warmth of home. Blue was the promise of new beginnings. Each color had a meaning, a purpose, wrapping her in ribbons of joy and hope. She lifted her arms, spinning in place as though to weave the rainbow around her body.
"Thank you, Nyx," Kiana whispered. "For the beauty and positive energy of rainbows."
From the shadows, a familiar voice spoke, low and calm. "I have never seen a ritual quite like that before."
Kiana turned to find Kurda watching her, his pale features softened by curiosity. His presence no longer startled her, though his constant observation made her feel both flattered and unnerved.
"It's a Rainbow Ritual," Kiana explained, her voice light. "I wanted you to see the colors the way I do."
Kurda nodded, a small smile curving his lips. "The way they wrapped themselves around you—it was remarkable. You have a gift for seeing beauty in the ordinary."
Kiana's cheeks warmed at the compliment, but Kurda's expression grew serious. "I would like to learn more about vampyres," he said, "but tonight, I have an important meeting. Will you forgive me for leaving so soon?"
Kiana nodded. "Of course."
Kurda leaned down and kissed her cheek, the gesture surprisingly tender. "I will return tomorrow night."
As he disappeared into the shadows, Kiana stood there for a moment, her fingers brushing the spot where his lips had touched. She turned back to the rainbow, now fading into the mist, and whispered another quiet thanks to Nyx.
Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.