Retaliation

by Charles Tillman

  He stared at her without answering. The longer the silence went on, the more his face showed how upset he was about this Forsaken. His mouth moved several times as if tasting the words before he spoke them.

  “That Forsaken is someone I knew long ago.” He swallowed hard before continuing, “I thought he was gone since I was forced to watch as he died in agony. That he is now Forsaken is my fault,” he whispered, a single bloody tear rolling down one cheek.

  Yuko placed a comforting hand on his back. He flinched at her touch.

  “Akio, I’m here for you.” She spoke softly while gently rubbing his back to try to comfort him. “Whatever it is, please let me help you.”

  Akio’s eyes were open and he appeared to be looking at her, but she could tell he saw only memories. A range of emotions rolled across his face. Grief turned to sorrow, sorrow turned to anger, and finally, anger turned to fury. Yuko watched, her hand never stopping as he came to terms inside his mind.

  He inhaled—a deep, shuddering breath that was painful to hear—and then he spoke, his voice low and shaking with barely contained rage as the memories he had pushed down so long ago once again burned bright in the forefront of his mind.

  “You are aware that I had dealt with Isamu and Ogawa before.” He paused and forced his body to relax as he fought down the anger. “You heard the taunts they threw at me the night they died, and their digs about my choice of companion.”

  His eyes developed a red glow. He closed them and again forced his taut muscles to relax. “Do you remember what I told you about them? That Kamiko used them to punish her followers for imagined and actual violations of her rules?”

  Yuko nodded, not wanting to speak out of concern that he would stop talking.

  “I once was sentenced to suffer at their hands. I had dared to break one of her most sacred rules—love no one but her.”

  Yuko’s eyebrows flew up, shocked by this admission. Akio was far more relaxed around her now than he had been when she accepted her role as Vicereine, but he still kept everyone at a distance, like he was incapable of ever letting anyone inside his personal wards.

  Akio continued, “The Forsaken I am seeking, Kenjii, was a kind and gentle soul whose only crime was to care for me—a crime that caused him to spend what I thought were his last hours suffering at the hands of those two monsters. All because Kamiko Kana was a petty, jealous tyrant who allowed nothing less than complete loyalty to her.”

  He wept unashamedly, tears streaming down his face as he finished. Yuko didn’t know how to react to her strong and stalwart mentor still hurting from the experience.

  Akio scrubbed his face with his hand and looked surprised to see the bloody tears. He shook his head as if dispelling the memory. “This happened a few years after Kamiko’s mother died, while Kamiko was still building her empire. She had her fingers in all manner of things, legal and not, and she used my brothers and me as her eyes, ears, and voice. We dealt with the day-to-day operations, keeping the businesses protected and the criminals productive and in line.”

  Akio considered the young woman who had been his closest companion for almost thirty years before he continued. “Isamu and Ogawa were Kamiko’s pets. We all did her bidding, but they were special. I told you that they were torturers; that is part of the reason Isamu was turned. After that, he petitioned Minagawa, Kamiko Kana’s mother and the queen at that time, to turn Ogawa as well. She allowed it, and when she was killed by the American bombs, they became Kamiko’s personal enforcers.

  “Isamu was a strong Forsaken who inherited several gifts from his creator, Kamiko. She was a fourth-generation grandchild of Michael’s child Peter, the man he had charged to monitor Asia and enforce his strictures. She had Ogawa turned as well, and he worshiped her like she was his personal goddess. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to please her, no one he would not betray.”

  Akio paused, his eyes closing and his expression going slack as his mind went to a place many years in the past.

  Yuko watched him silently, determined to give him whatever comfort she could.

  Chapter Sixteen

  TQB Base, Tokyo, Japan

  Akio opened his eyes, looking at Yuko but seeing pictures in his mind from the past. He took a deep, calming breath as he prepared to tell a tale that he had never told another living soul.

  He relived the memory as he allowed himself to think back to the fateful day that had started it all. He could almost feel the humid August heat on his skin and smell the odor of rotting fish as he slowly started to speak.

  “It was the summer of nineteen fifty-six, and I had been sent to Chiba by Kamiko Kana to deal with a local criminal who needed a reminder that there were things in the night much scarier than he was. Having completed that mission, I was looking to grab a quick meal before I returned. My orders had been to give him a reminder, not a reprimand. Had my orders called for a reprimand, I would have had no need to hunt that night. Reprimands were reserved for when the next in line needed to understand that failing Kamiko resulted in a sudden and very bloody change in leadership.

  “The Chiba docks were always a good hunting ground for Forsaken since a body floating in the harbor with its throat cut wasn’t an unusual occurrence there. Kamiko demanded we be careful not to bring too much attention to ourselves or the group when we hunted. She was afraid of catching the attention of Michael or his family since that would lead to a change in leadership faster than with the criminals. Plus, when Michael’s family got involved, they did not limit themselves to only removing the one at the top. They had no problem killing the top three or four, or everyone to make their point.”

  He was silent for almost a minute, his face going through a range of emotions until it finally came to rest on the default stoic. “I was hunting the rough area that housed the dockside bars and brothels when I heard what sounded like someone being beaten in an alley beside one of the seedier establishments the area had to offer. It was a place where cheap sake flowed, so deadly fights were not uncommon. My curiosity led me to slip into the alley with the intention of investigating the commotion at the dead end. I found a group of three toughs surrounding a young man on the ground. His clothes were torn, and his face was battered and bloody from the beating he had received. I started to move on, not wanting to deal with four bodies, when I heard the young man speak.

  “‘You bastards can beat me. You might even kill me,’ he swore. ‘And you will have to kill me before I submit to the likes of you.’” Akio smiled. “He spat at the largest of the toughs, defiance in his eyes. That tough’s actions and words sealed his fate. He was in the process of unfastening his trousers while he taunted the beaten man.”

  “What did he do?” Yuko murmured uneasily.

  “He called him an okama and told him they would all have him for flaunting himself in front of the ‘real men,’” Akio answered. “I saw red and felt my fangs come out at that. These bullies were attacking the man because they thought he was a homosexual. I had not felt that kind of anger at a human in almost five hundred years. Human or not, his actions were without honor, and he had to die.”

  A small movement of his lips caused Yuko to focus hard on him. Her eyes widened in surprise. Was that a smile that almost leaked out? No, it couldn’t have been.

  “I forced my anger down until my fangs retracted and called out softly to him from behind. I asked if perhaps he would like to try me instead.

  “All three of the toughs spun to face me. The loudmouth told me it wasn’t my business, and if I didn’t move on, he and his friends would do the same to me. To be sure I understood what he meant, he thrust his hips, calling attention to what he held in his hand while his friends shook their fists at me.

  “I’m sure if I had been human, it would have been intimidating. As it was, it was pathetic. I stepped closer, and when his friends rushed me, I lashed out and grabbed them both. In one move, I threw them over his head and into the wall of the building at the end of the alley.

  “As his
friends slid down to the pavement, I closed the distance between us and told him I wanted to give him something instead. I caught him by his shirtfront and pulled him in close. He flailed, screaming that he was going to kill me. He finally landed a blow to my face with his fist, but before he understood that his punch hadn’t bothered me, I pulled him closer and allowed my eyes to glow and my fangs to extend. His fear when I pierced him was sweeter than the taste of his blood.

  “When I was done, I looked deep into his eyes and snapped his neck for good measure. When he dropped to the pavement, I felt a small sense of pleasure because his trousers had fallen to his ankles as he died. A petty thing on my part, but fitting that he suffered that final humiliation.

  “One of the men I had thrown was struggling to his feet, I judged that the other would never get up again when I saw the angle of his head. I took that one too, drinking him dry and reveling in the rush of his terror as I did it. When I was done, I released him and smashed his head against the bricks, shattering his skull and finishing him off as well.”

  He paused again, and this time Yuko was sure he was smiling.

  “I felt my body tingle as the fresh blood rushed through me. I had almost forgotten the young man until I heard him whisper, ‘Banpaia. I thought you were alegend, but you are real.’ I looked at him, expecting to see terror and fear, but I saw something else instead—something I had not seen directed at me in almost half a century.

  Akio’s eyes focused, and his voice pitch changed as he came back to the present. “After seeing the three men so casually killed, he should have been screaming or trying to run away. Instead, he looked at me through the hair that had fallen into his face. His eyes were bright with excitement and something else—admiration.”

  He paused for a few beats, and then his voice choked with anguish. “That sealed his fate, that moment when I should have killed him and moved on. I justified it at the time by telling myself I was going to find out why he didn’t fear me as he should. That I was going to determine who had let him live after he found out about our world and then kill him.”

  He laughed ruefully. “I was never one to lie, not even to myself, but that was what I did. Not letting humans know about the UnknownWorld was the first and most strictly enforced of the strictures Michael had handed down. Even Kamiko wouldn’t disobey that rule, and she hated him. That lie I told myself is one that has tortured me for many decades, the lie that led to the death of the one person I had loved in several centuries. Or so I thought until recently.”

  Yuko saw the pain in her friend’s eyes and the slump in his shoulders when he stopped speaking. Her heart ached for him, and she felt the tears forming in her eyes. “Akio.” She stood and moved toward him, both arms open. “If there is any way possible, if we have to travel to China and search ourselves, I will not rest until we locate this man.”

  Akio watched her warily, still hesitant to have physical contact with anyone. Seeing the earnestness in her eyes and hearing the concern in her voice, he slowly stood, allowing her to hold him and give him the comfort he had denied himself for so long—comfort he was still unsure he deserved.

  Adelaide Oval, Adelaide, Australia

  “Gates opening.” The call went through the stockade before the gates started to move. All eyes turned to see two large wolves slip into the compound as the gates swung open.

  The wolves stopped a few steps inside and snarled at the people milling about. It started with a scream and a few people running the opposite direction and soon turned into a stampede of humanity running in the opposite direction from the wolves.

  Four men entered behind the snarling wolves, laughing and pointing as the frightened people shoved and fought to get as far from them as possible.

  “Look at that bloke there.” An unkempt man who stood well over six feet and weighed at least two hundred fifty pounds, laughed as he pointed. “He plowed that old duffer down and never looked back.”

  “He looks to be in good shape, Archie,” his companion pointed out. “Keep an eye on him. We’ll take him in the first batch.”

  “I got him, Owen. Doubt he will be much fun, though. Look how he’s trying to push back to the fence.”

  “Just take him. Decklan wants to scare them all with this first match. He’s going to let Dustin get his first humans.”

  “Dustin? But he’s only a kid,” Archie complained.

  Owen smiled. “Exactly.”

  Callum snorted from behind them. “That’s gonna be a hoot. Dustin looks like he’s ten years old. Imagine the looks on their faces when the little wanker shifts.”

  Owen laughed evilly. “That’s why Dee said no shifting where they could see you. He wants it to be a big shock.”

  “Your brother is one sick fuck, Owen.”

  “You know it, Archie.” Owen grinned and rolled his shoulders, “Okay, let's pull out four of the men. Dee gets pissed if he has to wait.”

  The two wolves had been harrying the people, herding them into a tight group, when Owen whistled once. The wolves pulled back behind the four and waited to see what they threw their way, eager to be done so they could change back to human form to watch the show.

  The four men spread out and headed for the crowd, each one zeroing in on their chosen victim.

  Archie spotted his man still trying to force his way through the crush and darted in, bowling over any who were unfortunate enough to be in his way. He caught him by his collar and yanked him back, spinning a half-turn and throwing him toward the waiting wolves.

  The unfortunate man landed in a heap, his breath rushing out of him as he collided with the broken pavement. One of the wolves moved in and cut him off as he struggled to his feet, heading off his attempt to make it back to the relative safety of the crowd.

  Owen looked into the crowd and spotted a young man with a boyish face glowering at him with a cold, hard stare. His original victim, an older man in his sixties, was forgotten. He caught the man by his shirt front and pulled him off his feet. He spun around, releasing the shirt and tossing the man toward the wolves. In seconds he was with the first victim, cut out of the herd.

  The others soon had two more men, one an overweight redhead and the other a lean thirty-something with a scar down one side of his face. They all turned to leave when a voice called from the crowd.

  “What the hell do you motherfuckers want with them? Why the fuck did you bring us here, and what are you doing with those gods-be-damned wolves?”

  Owen’s head snapped around to see who had dared to speak. He was shocked to see a thin young woman with long black hair standing in front of the group, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes—the one who had shot him the night he took her.

  “You!” he snarled as his eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the bitch that shot me!”

  He stalked up to her and stared down at her. She glared at him, hands on her hips and pure hatred in her eyes.

  “You want to know why we want these meatsacks?” he growled. “Come on, bitch. I’ll show you what we’re doing, what we’re going to do to all of you.” Owen’s hand flashed out, caught her by one arm, and jerked. Faster than was humanly possible, he bounced her over his shoulder.

  The wind was knocked out of her with a loud whoosh by the rough treatment. Kelly fought to force her lungs to expand and ease the burning in her chest. She finally was able to expand her lungs and suck in the oxygen her muscles needed.

  Being upside-down over his shoulder didn’t leave her many options to fight back, but she took what she could get.

  “Put me down, you fucking bastard!” She beat her fists into him as she railed. “I said, put me the fuck down!”

  On the third punch to his hip, her body was shaken by a blow on her arse. Each time she hit him, he spanked her even harder until her body bounced against his bony shoulder each time.

  She screamed as she punched him ineffectually again. “Ow, ow, ow! Get your hands off my arse, motherfucker!”

  “I can do this all day.” He
laughed as he smacked her hard enough to cause her breath to catch. “Keep it up, and you may get more than a show. I’m still right pissed that you shot me.”

  She stopped her struggles, realizing she was not accomplishing anything except making him laugh and inciting bruises on her rear. She decided it would be best to bide her time until she could do some real damage to his arse, or whatever other body parts she could reach.

  The four men were driven out of the gates into a fenced enclosure no larger than a barn stall. Once they were all inside, a woman who had been standing to the side closed them in and locked the gate with an old piece of chain and a padlock.

  The enclosure was made of chain-link fence with rolled barbed wire all around the top. The end opposite the stockade opened into the old stadium at the edge of the playing field.

  The field was littered with piles of debris that looked like they could have come from an airplane and other assorted scrap. There were some piles that rose high into the air and others that were only a few feet tall. They appeared to be randomly scattered throughout with no structure or reason. Directly in front of the enclosure was a pile of rusted and broken farm tools consisting of axes, pitchforks, and even a worn and chipped machete.

  When Owen exited the stockade, the woman saw Kelly and anger suffused her features. “And just what in the ever-loving fuck do you think you're going to do with that bit of fluff, Owen Walsh?” she yelled as she rushed over to him.

  He growled as he sidestepped her. “Go on, Maggie. This doesn’t concern you.”

  She moved to block him. “Doesn’t concern me?” she snapped. “You spend the night in my bed, then drag this human trollop out and flaunt her in my face and…”

  She cut off when he slapped her across the face with his free hand.

  “First off, Maggie, I don’t answer to you or any other bitch in this pack. If you think I do, you better take a look around. I have my pick of any of you whenever I want. Not that it’s any of your business, but this is the bitch who shot me the other week. I never finished my talk to her about that. Now, go tell Decklan we’re ready for him, and before you say what I see is on your mind, remember I can kill you, and no one will say a word.”