Mortality Bites Box Set [Books 1-6]

by Vance, Ramy

  Aki looked at my napkin, then me. “Yes,” he said. “It is more complex than that simple circle, but yes. That is exactly how this works. Different domains find—well, found—their way to us, thus letting us overlap for a few days. By Earth’s standards, of course. After all, eternity can be caught in a single second, can it not?” The tanuki looked at me, waiting for a reaction, but since I wasn’t sure if he was being profound or making a joke, I just stared at him with a confused, blank expression.

  Jean leaned in and whispered, “Clever girl.”

  ↔

  “When the gods left, the rotation—to use your analogy—ceased and the hotel found itself on Earth, on this island, at this time,” Aki said.

  “And what about the ‘rotation?’ Does it continue? Do the other planes continue to appear?”

  The tanuki nodded. “It does, but every realm is closed and even though we may have entered the ‘circle of Heaven’ or ‘Hell’ or ‘Nirvana,’ the hotel does not move.”

  I was starting to understand better. Aki meant that, while the rotation still occurred, the hotel would not be possessed, for lack of a better word, by that realm any longer.

  “But not all the realms are realms, are they? I mean, it’s not just heavens and hells and purgatories, is it? There are other divine places not owned by a particular god or pantheon. Places that may have been shared by all of them, perhaps? For example, the museum.”

  The tanuki nodded again. “But such knowledge is dangerous. Especially in a godless world.”

  “Yomi … that’s where those who follow Shinto go when they die. Well, went,” I said. “And that domain is closed like everywhere else.”

  Aki took a long draw from his sake.

  “Kenji told me that Yomi is also where the Kami Subete Hakubutsukan resides and because the rotation is going to align with that plane of existence, these Others believe it will actually appear.” I stared hard at Aki. “But you don’t, do you? I mean, if you did, you would never have opened this place up, would you?”

  The tanuki nodded. “Just because you believe something is going to happen does not make it so. They are holding onto a past that will never be again.”

  “So they are waiting for the museum to come. Why? What are they hoping for?”

  The tanuki nodded as if defeated. “The return of a god. Or I should say, the resurrection of three.”

  “But the gods are gone.”

  “Not all of them. Some remain.”

  “Bullshit,” Jean said, his voice both harsh and quivering.

  I understood where his anger and confusion came from; many humans didn’t believe in God or the gods to begin with, and to be presented with undeniable proof they existed was hard enough. But to have that proof coupled with their abrupt and unexplained departure was a whole new level of existential fuck-uppedness.

  Most of us spent years coming to terms with their existence, disappearance and the impending consequences of both. And now this drunk tanuki was telling us that all the gods weren’t gone. That at least one of them still remained. Well, that wasn’t something easy to accept.

  “Like who?” I asked, my voice trembling.

  “Not one,” Aki said. He lifted three fur-covered fingers. “Three dead gods remain. And they hope that these gods shall live once more.”

  10, 9, 8 … Really? This Couldn’t Have Waited Until New Year’s?

  “Hold on,” I said, “I thought you said that the dead gods were usually shuffled off to some sarcophagus where they couldn’t do any more harm?”

  “And where do you think those sarcophaguses are kept?” the drunk tanuki said, pouring himself one that was already one too many three drinks ago.

  “In the museum,” I said.

  The tanuki gave me a thumbs-up. “You can’t really kill a god, just weaken them and lock them away. And that is exactly what the Shinto gods did to Izanami-no-Mikoto, believing her decaying mind and body would destroy all life. As did the Norse gods believe when Baldr died. You see, not everyone cried for his death and, well, there was little motivation to resurrect him. But it was more than that for the Norse pantheon. They believed that a dead god was a sign of Ragnarok and rather than mess with fate and bring him back, they locked him away.

  “Then there was Quetzalcoatl. He was the worst of the lot. Well, I say ‘he,’ but the truth was, ‘he’ was a bunch of birds. Seems that when he died his essence became a flock of birds of all sorts and, well, it’s strange referring to hundreds of birds as a single being, but what can you do? I mean … gods, right? Anyway, the Aztec gods—who were no prizes of virtue, mercy or kindness themselves—chose to lock Quetzalcoatl away in the Kami Subete Hakubutsukan, thus ridding the world of a god they believed would ultimately lead to the end of all.”

  “Ever watch Sesame Street?” Jean asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know: three of these things belong together …” he sang the tune from the old 1970’s show. “Three of these things are kind of the same …”

  “Yeah,” I said, snapping my fingers as it dawned on me, too. “Three dead gods who were so despicable that the living gods locked them away rather than return them to life. But that’s not all. They all were seen as signs or milestones in the apocalypse. Baldr was a sign of Ragnarok, Izanami was to infect all and Quetzalcoatl would lead to the end of all.”

  “Three Who Are One.” Jean pointed to the crowd of Others who were obviously for resurrecting the gods. “They’re not here to usher in gods so that they can return to the old system. They’re trying to usher in the apocalypse.”

  “And Ragnarok,” I added.

  “And Ragnarok,” Jean agreed. “Why is it always Ragnarok?”

  “Chris Hemsworth fans?” I offered.

  “Yeah, but why can’t they be obsessed with his role in the Ghostbusters reboot?”

  I chuckled at Jean’s gallows humor before the seriousness of the situation returned to me. “So do you think that they’re right? That these gods are coming back?”

  The tanuki shrugged. “When I condemned Quetzalcoatl to continued death, I did so knowing that of every case I had ever presided over, this was my most important one, for I had just locked away a great evil.” He sighed, downing another sake. “I know what I hope will happen: nothing. That with the gods’ departure and the resulting limitations in magic, I pray that this sphere of existence will pass through us and we will feel like … like a ghost is gliding through us.”

  “That’s your hope. What’s your fear?” Jean asked.

  “That Yomi opens and these idiots somehow resurrect the dead gods.”

  “Yep, that sums it up for me,” Jean said.

  The tanuki lifted a skinny black finger. “Not done. For my fear continues down the dark, dark path of war led by power-hungry gods that will result in the apocalypse promised by Revelations, Ragnarok and the End of Days, instead of the one we actually got which—all things considered—wasn’t really that bad. I mean, we still have sake.” He let out a chortle as he threw away his cup and started drinking directly from the bottle.

  I thought about the dead gods being locked away in the museum. It was the perfect solution for dealing with volatile things like dead, evil gods and items of intense magical properties. Keep the dangerous magic out of any realm it could hurt without completely severing the ties. Like having an offshore nuclear power plant.

  And that nuclear power plant not only had my soul, but it also contained three dead gods who were trying to resurrect themselves. And that, I realized, was why my soul hadn’t come back to me.

  The dead gods had stopped my soul from returning. They were going to use it to try to raise themselves.

  And that (remarkably) wasn’t even the worst of it.

  The thing that really worried me was the attacking Others who were gathering just because they hoped the gods would come back. Well, three of them would come back to life, that was. They were so desperate that the thought of a god’s return—even an asshole of a god—was en
ough of a rally to get them to gather in force.

  I didn’t know what was worse: the three dead gods actually being resurrected and all-out war, or nothing happening and those Others that had pinned their hopes on a fairytale coming true starting an all-out war out of sheer despair. Suicide by fighting.

  My head spun in anticipation as every fiber of my being worried about the terrible outcome that would come to pass no matter what. With or without my soul.

  My soul … that’s why I was here. That’s how I’d found myself in the middle of all this. I couldn’t deny that I wanted it back. I needed it back if I was going to banish this emptiness inside me and find joy once again.

  War was coming, and if I was going to face the it, then let it be with all of me intact.

  Of course, all those thoughts would be meaningless if New Year’s came and nothing happened.

  I looked at my arm and saw the morphing blues and oranges swirling on my skin, and all they showed was this island and nothing else.

  I tapped my wrist at Jean. He turned the Mickey Mouse face in my direction; a couple more minutes until New Year’s. A couple minutes that felt like an eternity.

  Staring at the crowd of Others, I counted the seconds as if I could push time forward through sheer will.

  An impossibly long minute passed. Then another. Until finally the fated countdown began.

  10 …

  9 …

  8 …

  I saw three oni demons draw close to the two wendigos in the corner. They were clearly gathering to prepare for whatever came next.

  7 …

  6 …

  5 …

  Harry lifted a glass in my direction. He wasn’t a believer, nor a Herald of the Three Who Are One. He was just a yeti trying to recapture some of the joy lost when the gods left. For him, if not myself, I prayed nothing would happen.

  4 …

  3 …

  And as for myself, I prayed for an impossible miracle. One where my soul somehow found its way back to me. One where the warring Others retreated and the humans didn’t pursue. One where peace would prevail. And if not peace, then common sense and decency.

  2 …

  But common sense and decency were in short supply these days. As for miracles? The gods hadn’t left any behind when they went away.

  1 …

  Normally there’s an eruption of joy at the fated final second. But not that New Year’s and not in the Celestial Solace Hotel. The room went dead silent as everyone held their breath in anticipation of something, anything happening.

  Nothing happened … until, that was, everything did.

  First the Earth shook as a trumpet heralded impending doom. And as I covered my ears in pain, I watched in horror as the ground opened up, causing the Others who had been on the dance floor to fall within its blackened gulf.

  “What’s happening?” I asked Aki.

  The tanuki shook his head as his eyes widened in shock and fear. “When the celestial path would come upon us, this place would be consumed by that reality. But with the magic gone, it seems that the new reality is trying to consume this one.”

  Oh good, I thought.

  End of Part 3

  Part IV

  Intermission

  Okinawa — World War II

  Decades Ago —

  Smoke rose from the chimney in billows of black and gray. They were burning wet wood, which was strange not only because it was the middle of summer, but the thick smoldering clouds would tell everyone within a few miles exactly where they were.

  Still, there was life inside. We approached the old stone house cautiously, our hands raised in the air as we spoke very loudly so as to not scare whoever was inside. Not that we had much of a chance of doing that; I was a gaijin with amber hair, walking in the middle of the night.

  That’s why I kept Blue behind me. Just in case whoever was a soldier or someone who had managed to get their hands on a gun. But the person who came outside wasn’t a soldier and the only thing she held in her hands were two bowls of soup.

  I should have known right then and there we were in trouble, but even vampires get tired and when I saw Blue’s eyes light up with the prospect of eating hot food for a change, I acquiesced and we walked inside.

  ↔

  The home was completely stripped, every shred of furniture gone. Even the tatami mats had been ripped from the ground. But there were four walls and the windows were still intact enough to keep most of the chill out. The fire place was roaring and I understood what was happening: the friendly woman had been using the ripped-up tatami mats as kindling.

  She gestured for us to sit, still not saying anything as she placed two bowls of soup before us. I didn’t eat human food then, and given how hungry I was, it took every ounce of willpower to stop myself from eating the woman.

  Well, every ounce of my willpower is a lie. The truth was, all I needed to do was see Blue’s eagerness to stop myself.

  The woman, who must have been in her mid-forties, gestured for me to eat. I politely declined, offering my bowl to Blue. The little girl took it greedily, pouring it into her nearly empty bowl and spooning away, loudly slurping with abandon.

  Seeing that I wouldn’t eat, the lady frowned and immediately grabbed my now empty bowl and filled it up. I looked at the steaming soup in dismay. The thing about food and vampires: we can eat it, we just don’t like it. To us it tastes flat, flavorless. We could eat a meal prepared by a chef at a Michelin 3-star restaurant and it would still taste like cardboard.

  The woman, without speaking, gestured at my bowl as though to push it toward me.

  Blue silently pleaded with her eyes for me not to be rude. So I ate a few spoonfuls before putting the bowl down. This seemed to satisfy our hostess, who snarfed down her bowl before pouring herself another.

  I watched as the two ate without speaking, their concentration on the food before them. When they were done, Blue said, “Sugoyu ne!” and stretched out to sleep.

  The woman chuckled at this and, leaning against the wall, closed her eyes and started humming to herself.

  So that was what this night was going to be. Two full humans—neither of whom I could eat—sleeping the wee hours away.

  I thought about going on a hunt myself but decided to wait until I was sure they were both asleep. I’d also douse the fire before I left; I didn’t want anyone stumbling upon this place while I wasn’t around to protect Blue.

  I stood up and was looking for something to safely put out the fire when I saw a small vial by the metal pot. The vial was brown in shape and stood about three inches high. There was no label, but there didn’t need to be one—I knew exactly what it was.

  I grabbed the woman, lifting her by the neck. “What did you do?” I screamed in Japanese.

  The woman was already drifting off, her voice distant and slurred. “They all went to sleep, and so will we. Sleep now. Sleep forever.”

  “Kuso,” I spat. I dropped the woman and went to Blue. She was out, which meant that enough of the poison had seeped into her body to knock her unconscious.

  I sat her up and stuck two fingers in her throat, trying to force her to vomit. The little girl did, but from the mess that came out of her, I knew I was already too late.

  Blue was going to die if I didn’t do something to save her.

  ↔

  Scooping up the fragile child in my arms, I cursed myself for being so careless. I was a monster of the night who had used a smile and the promise of safety to lure in my victims. And here we were in the middle of a war … I should have known we were in danger when I saw that smile.

  I ran using every ounce of my vampiric speed and strength. But because I’d eaten some of that infernal food, I wasn’t at full strength. I doubted I had eaten enough to kill me, but I’d had just enough to knock me out. I desperately wanted to sleep.

  But I couldn’t let myself do that; I needed to help Blue. So I was headed to the only place I could think of … Naha. I figured the is
land’s capital would be the best place to find human life.

  Humans we found, but life, that was harder to come by.

  The city was all but abandoned, with a few stragglers who ran away as soon as they saw me. There were no soldiers mulling about, no Okinawans to be seen. Nothing and no one.

  Just an empty city.

  “Blue,” I said, sitting her up. “Come on, Blue. Fight this.” But the child didn’t stir, her slumber well past that of sleep. She’d fallen into a coma and I knew that even if I found a doctor in a fully functioning ER ward, the chances of her making it through the night were nothing.

  It seemed that my only options were try to turn her or let her die.

  Either way, Blue was going to die.

  I popped out my fangs and clamped them over her neck. All I needed to do was apply a little pressure. Not much—my fangs were razor sharp and her neck was soft, almost paper-thin.

  But I didn’t bite down on her. I didn’t because I was selfish. I knew that once I’d turned her, the demon would take over and change who she was. She’d lose her soul … And the little girl I loved would be lost forever.

  I pulled away and retracted my fangs. The sun would rise in a few hours and that was exactly how much time I estimated she had. Ironic that a human girl should die with the coming light, I thought, my head swimming with utter exhaustion as I lost all hope of saving her.

  I stared down at the motionless body of the only human I had ever cared for in my three hundred years as a vampire. I loved her. That much was undeniable. She had reminded me what it felt like to be human. Tempered the beast, so to speak, and the human part of me that now dominated my very being didn’t want her to die.

  Worse, because I knew that with her death, the beast would come back stronger than ever. I would shut off any emotions resurrected by Blue. And the thought of losing the little bit of humanity I had left terrified me.