Owl and the Japanese Circus

by Kristi Charish

  I nodded. If I’d been less pissed at Lady Siyu and not so convinced she was guilty, I would have stopped and wondered what the hell she’d been doing waiting for me outside the elevator. “And you told her a thief was on its way down to steal the scroll, didn’t you?”

  He inclined his head.

  Which was why Lady Siyu had been more than happy to try and kill me. My strengths and weaknesses had all been used to get me here to distract Lady Siyu so Oricho could steal the scroll. And I’d been stupid enough to not only wander in headfirst but also drag Nadya and Rynn along for the ride.

  Still stupid, reckless Owl.

  “You have everything that you want—everything. Let us go,” I said.

  “If it is any consolation, I assure you Nadya was not given a lethal dose. Unlike most of my kind, I abhor killing innocents.”

  “Some fucking consolation,” I said.

  He nodded. “I do not begrudge you your anger. I wish there were another way,” he said, and his eyes turned a ghostly white. Almost as one, the ghosts from the slot machines rose up in a hazy fog and gathered around him. Onryo could absorb energy from the dead. He didn’t though; he just sent them at us.

  “I wished you’d not insisted on taking this job, Rynn,” Oricho said before the ghosts descended.

  They brushed me to the side as if I’d been nothing, feather fingers holding me in place. They collected around Rynn’s head in a dense fog, and his face turned gray as he gasped for breath. “Rynn!” I yelled, but the ghosts held me back. When he fell to his knees, they let me go.

  I knelt down beside him; he didn’t look good. “If incubi can do that whole energy stealing thing, now would be a good time,” I said.

  Rynn shook his head and mouthed, “Sorry.” His eyes turned bright blue, and then he passed out.

  “Incubi are hard to kill, but they do require air to function,” Oricho said.

  I stood up, balled my fists, and faced him. “What the hell did you do that for?”

  “So I need not hurt him any more than I have to.” He nodded at the back of the casino and raised his voice. “Bring her out. Owl will not fight now. She gambles with her own life, but refreshingly not with the lives of others.”

  Great. Someone finally believes I’m not the bad guy, and it’s going to get me killed.

  I did what I do best. Ran. Oricho’s expensive Italian shoes clipped against the tiled floor behind me. I darted behind the pool table and into the dark lounge with the white couches where I first met Mr. Kurosawa. The door to the roof had to be around here somewhere.

  But where did that leave Rynn . . . and Nadya, and Captain? I stopped and looked for another door or route—one that might lead me to Mr. Kurosawa. Oricho was gaining, so I jumped behind the bar and grabbed the Bacardi 151. Maybe flammables would put a dent in an onryo.

  “We’re on the same side, you and I,” Oricho said.

  “Bullshit,” I yelled. I felt for the lighter in my left pocket. It wasn’t there. Goddamn it. I checked my other pockets . . . it had to be here somewhere . . .

  “Believe it or not, it makes no difference,” he continued. From the clip of his shoes, I could tell that he’d reached the edge of the lounge. I started opening drawers, looking for a lighter.

  “Does that include a skin walker almost ripping my brain apart?” I yelled.

  “Believe me when I say I regret its use, but I had to know whether you were withholding the scroll’s translation. Sometimes the ends justify the means. I learned that lesson one thousand years ago.”

  I hid under the bar as Oricho’s footsteps grew closer.

  “I can smell the fear rising off you, Owl. It is an interesting insight into the workings of a human mind. Still, your kind has not moved past your fear of the dark,” he said.

  Damn it. “Not the dark, just what I can’t see. I’m guessing your kind has no trouble seeing in the dark.” No point in hiding anymore; I stood up and continued rifling through the drawers.

  Oricho inclined his chin in acquiescence. “Yet the two are often one and the same. Let us say a fear of the unknown then.”

  I’d opened the last drawer. No lighters or matches. I sat back; there wasn’t much time left before Oricho reached me, and I was out of options. I was going to die. Either Oricho was going to make me try and read the scroll, which I couldn’t, so I’d blow us up, or he’d slit my throat for not trying. Either way, things turned out the same—me dead.

  I don’t know if it was a reflection in the mirrored glass, or the angle at which I turned my head as I looked for a last-minute escape route, but behind the white couch in the corner was a stray shadow that shouldn’t have been there. It was a second before I realized it was a smoke and mirrors trick. There was a hallway, and I was willing to bet my life it led right to Mr. Kurosawa’s chamber. I vaulted over the bar and ran, hoping to hell he had some kind of fail-safe in there for intruding humans.

  “There is no help for you that way,” Oricho said, but he didn’t step up his pace. I ignored him and turned into the passageway, skidding to a halt at the sharp corner.

  Rotting lily of the valley hit me full force right as I made the ninety-degree turn, but it was too late to stop. I slammed right into Marie, dragging a bound and gagged Nadya. I swore. Nadya lifted her head and her eyes widened—she was on her feet but looking worse for wear, partly from the venom, partly from vampire pheromones.

  Marie smiled, showing me her fangs.

  “I told you there was no help for you that way,” Oricho said.

  Marie pushed Nadya ahead of her, her cloaked jacket swirling around her heels. “This something of yours?” she said to Oricho. “Because this looks like mine,” she added, grabbing my arm.

  Nope. Not a chance in hell the universe was done screwing with me yet.

  “You do not see it now, but you will. I am helping you,” he said, taking Nadya and leading the way back to the casino main floor.

  Marie dragged me along. I winced as she dug her fingers into my arm. The vampire pheromones were starting to hit me too. From now on I was going to keep a gas mask around my neck. With my free hand I pulled my shirt over my face—not much, but better than nothing.

  “You think killing all of us humans while blowing up your boss is protecting us? What kind of sick, twisted monster are you?”

  In honorable samurai fashion, Oricho didn’t respond. Didn’t say one goddamn thing.

  “Go to hell,” I said.

  “That’s exactly where I’ve been these last thousand years.”

  “Yeah, and I just bet this is exactly the kind of revenge samurai would appreciate—lie and cheat until everyone who pissed you off is dead.” I was bluffing. I had no idea what samurai would want; if they were anything like ancient ninja, I probably just succeeded in talking myself into an early grave.

  Marie jabbed me in the back. “Quiet,” she said.

  We reached the destroyed slot machines. Rynn was still slumped in the corner, though he was looking less gray. Lady Siyu was still a mess on the floor.

  “Bring Owl here,” Oricho said.

  But Marie stopped just short of the wreckage. “We agreed she was my payment for helping retrieve the scroll,” she said, tightening her grip. Yeah, blood circulation was definitely cut off now.

  Oricho frowned. “That is an artistic interpretation of our deal, vampire. You will exact your vengeance on her after my task is completed.”

  “Son of a bitch—”

  Marie cut me off with a blow to the kidney, and I doubled over. “Why, so you can screw me over again? I was supposed to have her in Bali, until you sent a rescue party,” Marie snarled.

  “And I explained I could not hand her over without raising Mr. Kurosawa’s suspicions,” Oricho replied as if lecturing a petulant child.

  “I helped you get the scroll. I’m taking Owl. Now.”

  Oricho frowned. “In spite of your efforts, I obtained the scroll. At best you provided a distraction.”

  Marie’s face twisted, ma
king her look even more like the supernatural monster she’d become. “I will not be cheated out of my vengeance. She made me this—”

  “You made your own bargains,” Oricho said, and glanced at me with a hard, calculating set to his eyes.

  “Please don’t do this,” I said to Oricho. “I get the whole wanting to kill Mr. Kurosawa, I do, really, but you can’t hand me over to Sabine. Just kill me now, it’ll be kinder.”

  He shook his head. “She has a debt of vengeance against you. It is not something I can ignore—”

  “Coward,” I said.

  “Perhaps.” He inclined his head and the ghosts swarmed around us, pulling me out of Marie’s grip and throwing both of us in opposite directions. I landed on a broken slot machine, a glass jar of coins rolling back and forth at my feet. Marie screamed as she landed a few feet away. She was on her feet and snarling at Oricho.

  “Here is your opportunity for vengeance, Sabine. I suggest you do not waste it, for I doubt you will get another,” he said.

  She clenched her hands until they turned whiter than they already were. “I won’t forget this—” she started.

  “My debt to you is paid. I would move quickly, as I do not know how much longer her friend will stay unconscious.” Then Oricho turned his back on her. He pulled Nadya up off the floor and handed her the scroll. Shit. Oricho knew Nadya was the one who could read it because I’d told him.

  “Nadya, don’t read it, whatever he says or does, don’t,” I yelled as Marie circled around me like a rabid cat.

  “Alix—” Nadya started, but Oricho silenced her with a shake of his head while he gripped the side of her neck, applying pressure to her carotid artery.

  My attention was divided between them and Marie, but I saw the color drain from Nadya’s face as Oricho leaned in and whispered in her ear. She looked down at the scroll and nodded.

  She began to read.

  I glanced and saw that Rynn was on his knees now, shaking his head and trying to get up—

  Well, at least Oricho hadn’t been lying about that part. Marie only had a few minutes at most to kill me or turn me. I did a double take as my eyes passed over the slot machine wreckage. Where the hell was Lady Siyu’s corpse? For a moment I thought the ghosts had taken her, but then I caught a glimpse of yellow and gold sliding behind the slot machines.

  Damn, nagas weren’t easy to kill either.

  If anyone here knew how to wake a sleeping dragon, it was her.

  Oricho must have noticed the missing body about roughly the same time I did, because he left Nadya and stalked away, samurai sword in hand.

  “Rynn, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but keep Oricho from Lady Siyu,” I yelled as loud as I could, dodging to the side as Marie made her first lunge.

  I was slow; vampire pheromones were slipping through my shirtsleeve. I stumbled over my own feet, and her fingernails grazed my face.

  She smiled.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rynn stand and take an unsteady step towards me. I swore. Not the time to play hero. “I can handle Marie, Lady Siyu can’t handle Oricho, and we need Mr. Kurosawa—right now.”

  I dodged another slash. Marie was playing with me. I glared and picked up the jar of coins; she’d regret not taking Oricho’s advice. I bashed them against her face and sent her reeling back with an inhuman yelp.

  Rynn and I locked eyes for a moment, and I mouthed, “Go.” I must have looked damn convincing, because he nodded, but not before taking a knife from inside his jacket and launching it towards me.

  I swore as it sailed right over my shoulder.

  Marie screeched again, the knife buried to its hilt in her collarbone.

  By the time I glanced back to frown at Rynn, he’d already headed after Oricho. Marie pulled the knife out, but she’d taken on the clammy, emaciated appearance I associate with young vampires. She wasn’t smiling anymore.

  I had to hand it to Rynn; he’d evened the playing field.

  “So how’s it feel to not even rate a backup plan?” I said.

  “Oricho hired me to find the scroll,” she said. The clamminess gave her face a feral edge.

  It was my turn to smile and shake my head. “No, you were hired to distract me so I’d be thrown off guard and not ask the right questions. Oricho never for one second thought you’d actually find it. Why do you think he didn’t fork me over in Bali? Face it, you were a half-rate thief when you were alive, and vampirism hasn’t done you any favors.”

  I launched a handful of gold coins at her head, turned, and bolted. If I could keep her busy until Lady Siyu did her job—

  Marie slammed into my back and knocked me to the ground. My makeshift filter slid off my face, and I didn’t have the chance to pull it back on before Marie was all over me. “I’ve waited over a year to sink my teeth in your neck. You did this to me.” She pinned my collarbone down and lunged for my neck.

  I rammed my forearm in her face instead and winced as her teeth punctured my skin. An onslaught of pheromones coursed through me. Still, better my forearm than right into a major artery. I looked around; we’d landed beside a broken shelf. A Japanese vase depicting a scene from The Tale of Genji was lying on its side next to me; eleventh-century Heian period, one hundred grand easy, maybe close to a million, depending on who’d painted it . . .

  I wrapped my hand around the handle. Here’s hoping Mr. Kurosawa agreed it was a hundred grand well spent. “Just keep telling yourself that,” I said, and slammed the pot into the side of her head.

  She reeled from the blow and let go of my wrist, but she didn’t return the punch.

  Even with the loss of blood, she should have . . . Hell, I’d removed her Bindi and Red power food supply. She hadn’t had a vampire to feed off in days, not without sounding alarm bells all over the vampire world. She was back to being a regular vampire—more crazy, but normal.

  I pushed myself up and scrambled back, but the mainlined pheromones were really slowing me now. I only got a few feet before she pinned me under her again.

  Shit, normal vampire or not, I couldn’t keep this up much longer.

  Something scratched against metal overhead, insistent and irritating as hell while I wrestled with Marie, trying to keep her teeth out of my neck. I glanced up, wondering . . . hoping . . . oh yeah. Latte-colored fur poked through the grates.

  Captain.

  I don’t know how the hell he’d done it, but he was in the air vent above, working his hind legs and bulky midsection to kick the cover off. It was loose, but he’d need another second to squeeze himself through. Note to self: fewer cat treats from now on.

  Marie lifted her head to see what the noise was, so I elbowed her in the face. I felt her nose crack as I connected with cartilage. She screamed. I was 0 for 2 in the running department, so I threw all my weight into a roll. She was off-balance enough that she rolled with me, and I hung on for dear life and came up on top. I delivered a few punches to her face, working on the broken nose until she recovered her wits enough to snatch my wrist. I wrenched it back, but I was no match for a vampire’s viselike grip.

  She smiled. “Being locked in a tomb is the least of your worries,” she said.

  I got angry. Yet again someone blaming me for all their problems.

  I hit her in the throat with my free hand. “I used to feel guilty about leaving you in that tomb, but you’re the one who’s screwed up every last chance you’ve ever had, not me.”

  That didn’t go over well. She rammed my forearm across my throat and pressed down, cutting off the air. “I didn’t have choices,” she said, pinning me back down. “I was surviving.”

  “Hell, I made a bad choice I’m not proud of, but you? You keep saying being a vampire is my fault when the unifying link between all your disasters isn’t me, Marie, it’s you. And now you’re taking stupid kids and turning them so you can eat them? How’s that for vicious cycle?”

  She snarled, flashing her fangs. I spat. That earned me a slap, and the next thing I knew Mar
ie pushed my face to the side and held it down. I felt her warm breath on my neck as bits of glass cut into my flesh.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the grate crash to the floor. Captain hopped down and slid behind a slot machine, just within my peripheral view, waiting.

  “Last chance, Marie, and I mean it this time. Get up and walk away,” I said.

  Rotting lily of the valley stuck to my skin like rancid perfume. Any much longer and I’d be done for; time to play my last card.

  “Say whatever you want, Owl, you won’t be alive much longer,” she said.

  I couldn’t help smiling. “There’s one thing I do that you don’t,” I said.

  “And what’s that?” she said.

  “Learn from my mistakes.” I whistled. “I trained my cat.” It was almost worth breathing in vampire pheromones to see the look on her face as Captain leapt at her, claws first. She screamed and fell back, writhing on the floor as he went to work.

  I looked around the room for something to knock Marie out with and caught sight of Rynn’s pack near the door. Inside I found a UV flashlight and a syringe. I ran back, dropping the flashlight twice, woozy from the pheromones.

  I needn’t have bothered.

  For whatever reason, whether it was Marie’s newborn vampire status or her steady cannibal diet, Captain’s bites and scratches were doing one hell of a job. She was out cold, her eyes no longer dilated, her face and arms red and swollen. Captain walked over her, leaping and attacking imaginary twitches, hoping his prey would get back up. He mewed when he saw me, then bit deep into Marie’s hand. Immediately the surrounding skin turned a purplish red. One hell of an allergic reaction.

  I pulled Captain off just as her body started to shrivel. Vampires don’t turn to ash; it’s a myth. Their cells feed off each other when they stop getting food, and the net effect is similar to burning up. I looked away as her body withered. It was a nasty way to go—I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, even someone like Marie.