Tokyo's Last Vampire: Division 12: The Berkhano Vampire Collection

by Tiffany Wayne

  Kenshin peeked at his hole cards again and then at me, his eyes doing a little dance between us. His odor gave nothing away, neither good nor bad, which was strange, but my hand was awesome, so I wasn’t bothered. Finally, Kenshin threw in ten grains to match and another ten to raise.

  At this point, I couldn’t help but smile. I matched his raise and then raised again with another five grains.

  “Is there a rule number four?” asked Kenshin, pulling up his sleeves and planting his elbows firmly on the table, a high steeple over his cards. The blue oni on his forearm taunted me.

  “Play or fold,” I said, trying to focus anywhere but at the evil oni. I stifled a shiver.

  “No, really. Is there a rule four? I don’t want to be a rule breaker. I can tell you won’t stand for it, and I don’t want you laying me out again for misbehaving.” Kenshin blinked at me, his face revealing faux innocence.

  I could tell he wasn’t going to let this go, so I nodded to his oni tattoo. “If you could keep that ugly oni covered and out of my sight, I’d appreciate it.”

  Kenshin cocked his head to the side. “That sounds less like a rule and more like a request.”

  “Yes, I guess it is.”

  Kenshin rolled his sleeves back down. “Okay then. But one day you’re going to tell me the story behind your hatred of the oni.”

  I offered Kenshin my sweetest smile. “I highly doubt that. Now can we get on with the game? The flesh den awaits. You may have forgotten or maybe you just don’t care, but my best friend has been kidnapped.”

  “Who won?” asked Yuki, she and Kol returning to the table.

  “Guess what, V?” said Kol.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Yuki is going to teach me how to use throwing stars. She said they might come in handy when looking for Mom.”

  I gave Yuki the evil eye. “Really? You think they’ll come in handy?”

  Yuki shrugged. “You never know. At least he’s excited to spend the afternoon with me now. Besides, self-defense is never a waste.”

  “Fine. Go on then,” I said, waving them away. “But I want him back in the same condition he is now. No bumps, dings, or mental scarring, please.”

  Yuki giggled, eyes flicking to Kenshin. “I like this girl. I think she’s going to be good for you.”

  He dismissed her and Kol with a flick of his fingers and called my bid, adding another five rice grains. “All right, Ms. Valentin, what do you have? Please, tell me it’s not four kings.”

  Glee spiked my system, giving me a pleasant buzz. “Sorry. No can do,” I said, laying down my pair of kings, a happy grin dancing across my face. “Four kings it is.”

  Kenshin ran a hand down his face and shook his head in despair before flipping over his two cards—a seven and nine of hearts.

  I shook my head, not believing what I was seeing. There was no friggin’ way. Few hands could beat mine, but a straight flush was one of them. Kenshin’s seven and nine of hearts was the perfect addition to the eight, ten, and jack of hearts on the table. Goddamn it, why was I so unlucky? I glared at Kenshin. I didn’t like him before and liked him even less now that he’d toyed with me. “So why did you say you hoped I didn’t have four kings?” I asked, trying to temper the vitriol I felt. I didn’t want him to know how much he was getting to me.

  Kenshin reached across the table to pat my hand but jerked back when he realized his mistake. At least he was abiding by rule one. “I know you don’t like me. I didn’t want to make it any worse by trouncing your fantastic hand with an even better one of my own. Those hands are the hardest to lose.”

  I popped the last few bits of food into my mouth and stood. What a patronizing asshole. He was treating me like a kid or maybe a silly girl. Either way, I hated it. “Rule number five: Don’t spare my feelings. Ever.”

  Kenshin held his hands up in surrender. “Wow. Yeah. Okay. Good to know. Shall we get this over with, so maybe I can find someone a little less cantankerous to hang around with? You’re the youngest, crabby old-person I’ve ever met.”

  I crowed with laughter. If only he knew how old I really was. I came by my cantankerous nature honestly.

  Chapter 7

  “The den is around the corner. You nervous?” asked Kenshin, steering us to the right.

  “Yes,” I admitted, not at all ashamed. “It makes sense that I’m nervous since I’ve never been to one of these places. The bigger question is, why are you nervous?” I grabbed his arm and pulled Kenshin to a stop right before the den. Several women in various stages of undress, stood in front of a decrepit hotel—an old, sagging high-rise covered in kudzu with most of the windows blown out.

  I hadn’t detected any particularly telling odors coming from Kenshin during the poker game, but the closer we got to the flesh den, the more he smelled of sweat and moss. Nervousness expressed itself differently in people as far as scent, but eau de bog wasn’t an uncommon odor. Kenshin had a pretty good aroma compared to most nervous people, but I could tell he was on edge, which didn’t make a lot of sense because it had been his idea to come.

  Kenshin’s eyebrow quirked in surprise. “I didn’t realize I was giving so much away.”

  “You weren’t, but I can read people fairly well.”

  Kenshin opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but then shut it. I imagined he was about to snark something snide about my poker skills, but then he thought better of it. At least he was learning. “So what’s the story? Why are you nervous?”

  “It’s a long one.”

  “Make it short.”

  Kenshin’s mouth quirked in a half smile as he shook his head. “You’re something else, Valaria.”

  Since I’m a vampire, you’ve got that right, I thought. “I want to know what I’m walking into. No way I’m budging until you tell me why you’re suddenly nervous about going to a place you suggested we visit.”

  Kenshin hemmed and hawed before speaking. “Well…technically, the owner of this flesh den asked me not to come back. But it’s been several months, and I’m sure…well, I’m hoping he’s forgiven me by now.” Kenshin grabbed my eyes with his. “Most people find me very lovable and cute.”

  I took two steps back, my anger flaring. “Did you get rough with one of the girls?”

  Kenshin’s pretty face contorted as though I’d physically hurt him. “Oh God, no. The exact opposite. A patron was hitting my friend Miya. They expelled me for roughing him up. I may have gotten carried away.”

  I stared at Kenshin, studying him for signs of lying. His mossy scent was gone, replaced with the spice of anger…indicating he’d done what he claimed. “All right then.”

  Kenshin gestured towards the door. “Can we go in?”

  I pulled the hood forward to hide my face and took a deep breath. “Lead the way.”

  Kenshin nodded to several women we passed before entering, sending a few into flirtatious fits of giggles. “We’re so happy to see you back, baby,” cooed one.

  “There’s a discount for pairs tonight,” said another, as she hung off a friend’s shoulder. Ugh. I wanted to barf.

  “Not today, ladies. I’m here on business.” Kenshin winked.

  “You come here often, I see.”

  “People need their distractions. Some like yourself read while others of us prefer more active pursuits.” Kenshin opened the main door and ushered me inside. As broken down as the flesh den looked on the outside, the inside was rather opulent with gaming tables, plush red leather booths and a bar area with gleaming wood and shiny mirrors in the far back.

  Almost immediately, a woman appeared all wide-eyed and flighty. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, talking to Kenshin, but eyeing me. She bent down low, trying to peer under my hood. I pulled it down even farther, nearly blocking all of my vision.

  “Don’t worry, Miya, I’m here on business.”

  “I will let Masa know, but I can tell you right now, he hasn’t yet forgotten the mess you made.”

  �
�He still loves me, I’m sure. I paid for the damages, after all.”

  “But not for the time it took to coordinate repairs.” Miya’s words were accompanied by a bow before she headed off into the fray of gaming tables.

  “So Miya was your favorite girl?” I asked, fearing an awkward silence. I needed distraction, my vampire senses on overload. It wasn’t just the influx of smells and colors but also pheromones. The den, unsurprisingly, oozed sex. At the teahouse, food had helped quell my bloodlust, but it was now back with a vengeance. This place, crowded by so many excited bodies with ripe blood coursing through them, made it almost impossible to keep my fangs from protruding.

  “You really want to hear this?” asked Kenshin, his brow crinkling.

  No, not at all. “Yes, I really do.”

  “Miya was my first. My father brought me here when I was seventeen to make me a man. I was a gangly guy until a couple of years ago when I finally filled out. She was very kind to me, and I often come here for her company.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Just to talk, right?”

  Kenshin shrugged. “Sometimes. Not always, of course. I’m not a monk, but I also wasn’t lying when I said we were friends. Positioned as my father’s second, I don’t have many real friends, but Miya is one of the few.”

  He seemed distracted by a man stepping out of an office, followed by Miya. Before I knew it, he reached up and yanked back my hood. “I didn’t touch you. I touched your hood,” he said quickly. “Masa loves pretty woman. He’ll tell us what we want to know and won’t kill me if you use your womanly wiles on him.”

  “Womanly wiles? I don’t have womanly wiles.” He had said nothing about wiles on the walk over. Shouldn’t someone mention that when their life was on the line?

  Masa, a grey-haired man with a slight stoop, was halfway to us and didn’t seem happy to see Kenshin.

  I was trying to think of how someone with womanly wiles might act when Kenshin broke my train of thought with a completely uncouth question. “Are you a virgin?” His brows furrowed.

  “No,” I blurted, a flush coming to my face followed by a chill as an oni danced into my thoughts to mock me. You’re not a virgin. No, you’re not. Many a man has had you. Yes, they have.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “I didn’t mean offense. You’re not that old. What are you, seventeen or eighteen? It wouldn’t be surprising. There’s nothing wrong with the status.”

  I held back a derisive snort. Try fifty-eight years old.

  Fortunately, Masa had arrived, ending our conversation. Miya was gone and must have peeled off into the crowd. Masa, like Kenshin before him, let his eyes wander up and down my frame, drinking me in. I offered a smile and tried to make it look coy. Kenshin grimaced in response, so I guessed my coy smile came across more like constipation or something equally uncharming. I tried a bow next. “My name is Valaria Valentin, and we seek your help,” I announced with deference.

  “What a rare beauty,” said Masa, offering his own bow. “I didn’t think there was any of your kind left in Japan. He reached for my hair, but Kenshin grabbed him by the wrist. “No touching. She doesn’t like it.”

  “Such a shame for someone so unique looking. You could make a fortune working here. My girls and boys make fifty percent. It can be quite a good living if you have the right attributes and skills. I would be willing to teach you.” He offered with a devilish, eat-you-whole grin. My skin crawled.

  Normally, I would lay someone flat for such an insult, but Kenshin’s eyes pleaded with me to maintain control. “Thanks for the offer. I’ll give it some thought,” I said dryly. A vein in Masa’s neck pulsed with each pump of his heart.

  Clearly Masa is a low person. The world might be better if you took him out, whispered the thirsty devil on my shoulder.

  Hide yourself. You must always hide. Thirst is only an illusion, murmured the angel on my other shoulder…an angel who sounded a lot like my maker, Juro.

  “Masa, we’re here because a friend of Valaria’s has gone missing. The woman is the city librarian, Ms. Midori Takeyuchi-san. Have you heard anything that might be relevant in finding her? Missing persons? Kidnappings? Anything of the sort?”

  Masa groomed his goatee as he pondered our question. I couldn’t tell if he was considering how to answer or if to respond at all. I prayed for the former. We needed something to go on.

  “Please,” I begged. “I would be most grateful for any information that might help find my friend. She has a young son who needs his mother.”

  “I know something that may be of use,” said Masa, licking his lips and resembling a hungry cat.

  “I would be—”

  “But I don’t give anything away for free. I would require payment,” Masa interrupted, his eyes slowly undressing me.

  Kenshin side-stepped in front of me. “She’s not that kind of girl. You mind your mouth, old man.”

  Masa let loose a cackle. “It is your mind in the gutter, Tanaka-san. I only want a lock of her hair. It is a rare and beautiful thing, and you know I am a collector of beauty.

  I stepped out from behind Kenshin and pulled out my knife. “How much do you want?” I asked, freeing the braid with one hand. He could have it all, if he had good intel.

  He smiled sweetly, “Only a lock, my dear child. I wouldn’t want to mar your beauty.”

  “Fine.”

  “Hold on a second,” said Kenshin. “Information first. Hair second, and only if what you give us is helpful.”

  Masa bowed his head in acquiescence. “Your friend Takeyuchi-san is not the only person to have gone missing as of late. Two of the den’s regular patrons haven’t shown in over a week.”

  “A week’s not that long,” said Kenshin, voice annoyed.

  “It is for these two gentlemen. They visit daily.”

  “Names?” I asked.

  Masa held out a hand. “Hair first.”

  Near my scalp at the base of my neck, I sliced off a long lock and handed it over. “Here. Now, who’s missing?”

  Masa snatched the hair from my hand and fondled it, eyes dreamy. Kenshin and I glanced at each other and scowled. It was all very creepy.

  “Names?” said Kenshin, reaching to pluck the hair away.

  Masa pulled back just in time and stuffed the lock of hair into his pocket. “We haven’t seen a local doctor by the name of Hideaki Ito since last Tuesday. Also Jin Sato, who runs the cockfights, has been missing since Thursday. It’s all very unusual. Like I said, they are nightly customers.”

  A librarian, a doctor and a cockfight warden? How were they connected, if at all?

  “Did they have a favorite girl or boy?” Kenshin’s tone was polite but serious.

  Masa shook his head. “For them, diversity was the spice of life. I asked my staff if they knew anything, but their disappearance is a mystery. I’m quite sad really. They were reliable income. Now, if that is all, I would like you to leave, Kenshin. Ms. Valentin-san, you of course are welcome to stay. Drinks are free for women and perhaps you would like to share some quality time with one of my boys?”

  My patience with this lascivious toad was growing thin and the whisper of the thirsty devil on my shoulder had turned to a desperate yell. I needed to eat soon. A server passed with a tray of drinks. I grabbed one and downed it. It was poor quality sake and burned all the way down my throat. I tried to imagine that fire was the heat of blood. It almost worked. Finished, I handed the glass to Masa. “Thanks for your hospitality.”

  Kenshin and I turned for the door without further ado.

  Chapter 8

  “You okay?” Kenshin had waited a few blocks from the flesh den to start a conversation. “You look like you want to rip someone’s head off.”

  I laughed. He wasn’t far off. The burn of the bad sake had already dissipated, and again I was feeling the call to feed. If the Kami hadn’t sunk a sword into my gut, I would have been fine for days after dri
nking Kol’s blood, but healing from an injury meant I needed more than usual to feel sated.

  “I apologize for Masa’s behavior and the whole thing with your hair. That was…ghoulish.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” I was surprised by his concern. Maybe Kenshin wasn’t so bad. It’d been sweet the way he’d stepped in to protect my honor when Masa offered a job, albeit somewhat ironic given his own crude questioning of my virginity status.

  “I know but—”

  “Where to next?” I interrupted, wanting to get on with our mission. Masa’s behavior was the least of my worries.

  Thankfully, Kenshin was willing to drop the subject. “We’re going to visit the mom of my old friend Akemi. He chose to serve the Kami and become a priest rather than join the Yakuza.”

  “You don’t sound bitter.”

  “I’m not. It’s his life to lead. I am sad though. He was a good friend.”

  “And you think his mom might help us?”

  “Watanabe-san is no fan of the Kami. She would have preferred the Yakuza for Akemi because she wanted grandchildren. If I need information on the Kami, she sometimes has something for me. Akemi smuggles her letters from Mount Fuji through an apple peddler.”

  We reached the Watanabe residence after twenty minutes of walking. It was in a small village made entirely of pre-Rift shipping containers, with each container converted into a small home. The idea was ingenious really as the containers were steel, earthquake safe and offered great protection from the elements. Watanabe-san’s faded blue container was surrounded by a patchy herb garden. Kenshin knocked on the door.

  A withered old woman with greying hair answered. She was probably in her late forties but appeared closer to eighty. Such was how time treated the living post-Rift. The woman gasped at seeing Kenshin, hands coming to her heart in joy. “Kenshin, it has been too long. I am an old woman and my only child is gone. You must visit more,” she chided.