“It’s got nothing to do with manners. It’s about safety.”
“Well lucky for you I’m addicted to danger. Wrist or neck? I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I do. Now, don’t disappoint me,” said Kenshin, moving in so his neck was in reach. “There’s probably one last thing I should mention…”
“What?” I breathed, my fangs down and ready. I could already taste the meal to come. Kenshin was young, fit, and handsome. He would taste divine.
“I’m a witch.”
I pushed him away, knowing I couldn’t have heard him right. “Say again?”
“I’m a witch. My powers are few, but I wanted to let you know. I’ve heard witches and vampires sometime share visions and didn’t want to surprise you.
“You can’t be. The Kami take the gifted children each year.”
“My father hid me, hoping I might grow strong and be of help to the Yakuza. But I haven’t grown strong. At least not magically.”
“Was the distraction outside the hospital in Hayakawa your magic?”
Kenshin shrugged and nodded.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said, remembering my unkind words about the magically inclined.
“There’s nothing to say. I’m a filthy witch and you’re a filthy vampire. Now we are even,” said Kenshin, reaching a hand to my cheek. He paused a hair’s width away. “May I—”
I leaned into his hand before he could finish. “Yes,” I whispered, taken both by his tenderness and my own need to feed.
His touch was soft, sending shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes and let myself embrace him for the witch that he was. Being touched wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was nice.
I heard the pulse of his blood, the beat of his heart—life’s symphony. “You ready?” I asked, voice low and needy.
“I am,” he whispered back, breath catching. “I am.”
Chapter 16
The beating of our hearts entwined as I fed, the slowness of mine rising to meet the quickness of his.
One beat.
Two.
Three.
Visions came as soon as the first trickle of his blood trailed down my throat. It tasted just as I expected…dessert…whereas the blood of others was only an appetizer. I saw a gangly, young Kenshin in awe of his father’s strength. I saw him train so hard in the martial arts that his small, battered body fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow each night. I felt his father’s wilting stares of disappointment as Kenshin attempted magic and produced little. What good was floating a pencil when your opponent could hurl fireballs? I accompanied Kenshin to his rooms where he lay upon his bed and read books, hour after hour. Inspector Imanishi, Detective Chen, James Bond, and Jason Bourne. Anything with adventure, he devoured.
My body heated as I accompanied a wary Kenshin to the flesh den. I felt his anxiety as Miya led him to a back room, and I sensed his fear fade as she sat on the bed and began to talk. They talked for hours, sharing stories and laughing. He hadn’t lied. She was a friend. That said, he didn’t leave a virgin that night. After hours of talking, Miya coaxed Kenshin into something more. I felt like a voyeur, an intruder, watching events unfold, yet I couldn’t close my eyes to it. He touched her with tenderness. Such affection. She responded in kind, seeming to enjoy herself.
I was straining to hear what Kenshin whispered to Miya when his real voice forced itself into my dream, yanking me out. “Stop,” he yelled. “Stop. No. No. Please no.”
Mustering every ounce of strength I had, I raised my fangs from Kenshin’s forearm. “Did I take too much?” I gasped, pushing away and backing into the corner of the bed.
Kenshin slapped a hand over his bleeding wrist, but it was already starting to heal. “Are you okay?” he asked, breathing fast.
“Are you?” I replied, my confusion growing. I glanced down at my hands and arms, wondering if maybe his blood, like Miikio’s, hadn’t helped. I wasn’t one hundred percent healed, but my angry red burns had magically morphed into what appeared no worse than a sunburn. “What do you mean?”
Kenshin’s head shook, distress written in every line of his face.
My stomach dipped as panic rose. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m—”
Kenshin reached out to touch me but then pulled back as if burned. “I’m so very sorry.”
“Don’t say that,” I yelled, checking my body up and down. I touched my face thinking maybe I’d transformed into some kind of hideous monster. It felt the same. “What’s wrong with me?”
Kenshin got up to pace, his strides quick and jerky. After three lengths of the room, he reached the far wall and punched it, then drew up both sleeves and slammed it again.
“Are you mad?” I whispered, fearing his answer. “You don’t have to let me feed from you again. Did I hurt you?” I hated to think of bringing any sort of pain to the young boy I’d met in my vision. I liked him. A younger me would have loved to know him. And that was when it hit me. If I’d seen Kenshin in my visions, he’d seen me too. I cleared my throat, a brick of lead taking up residence in my stomach. “You saw it, didn’t you?”
He paused mid-stride and made a beeline for my bed. Tears sprang from his eyes. “I am so sorry. On behalf of my gender, I apologize.”
“Please stop saying you’re sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong,” I pleaded.
Noticing the oni tattoo on his uncovered arm, he gasped and yanked down his sleeve. “I’m so—”
I clapped a hand over his mouth. “No more.”
Kenshin’s eyes met mine with anger and sorrow. “I would kill those men if I could.”
“They are already dead. They were the first lives I took. The only lives.”
“They deserved it.”
“I know. I have no guilt or regrets. The world is a safer place without them.”
Kenshin sat next to me, laying a hand near to mine but not touching. It was there if I wanted to take it. “It’s not meant to be like that.”
“What isn’t?”
“Sex,” said Kenshin, voice sad. “I’m sorry about before. About asking if you were a virgin and telling you to use your feminine wiles.”
I ducked my eyes. “What did I tell you about saying sorry?”
Kenshin gave a halting half-laugh. “Note to self: rule number one thousand. Stop with this sorry business.”
Unfettered energy poured off Kenshin as his eyes darted about the room. He would pop up again for another round of pacing if I didn’t hold him down. I put my hand over his. Touching Kenshin was soothing—a salve on a wound I didn’t know I had. By the lines on his forehead and the quirk of his mouth, I could tell he had a question but was unsure of asking. I hadn’t known Kenshin long, but somehow understood the question he worried over. “The answer is no,” I said.
“No?” asked Kenshin.
“The answer to your question. It’s no, I’ve never been with anyone else.”
“It can be nice,” said Kenshin, a blush rising on his cheeks. “A union between friends, if not lovers.”
The heat on my cheeks became uncomfortable. “I know. I saw you with Miya.”
Kenshin nodded, flipping his hand under mine so they were palm to palm, our fingers entwining. “I’m glad you did. Now you know it can be different.” He pulled our hands to his mouth, kissing mine. “You are amazing, Valaria Valentin. And beautiful. And amazing.”
My stomach danced a happy flip-flop. “You said amazing twice.”
“I meant it twice.” He smiled, leaning in very, very slowly. So slow that I had an eternity to decide whether I wanted what he offered. I’d prefer to say it was an easy decision, but it wasn’t. One moment, the answer was yes. The next, no. I see-sawed between wonder and fear. I worried I was too broken inside. Another part of me craved my first kiss. The six men in the forest had taken my virginity but had left me with one important first; the question was whether I was strong enough to take that kiss for myself.
Chapter 17
Deciding on yes—I desired this kiss and not wanting time to change my mind—I closed the distance between our lips. In my haste, I thought nothing of technique and planted the kiss with no grace or delicacy, our noses crashing together. Wham. Bam. Thank you, man. Realizing my mistake, I was horrified but didn’t know what to do except keep my lips puckered and plastered to his, hoping for a miracle.
And a miracle is what I received. Kenshin’s hand came to my cheek as another cut through my hair, sparking goosebumps. Tenderly, he guided my head to the side, freeing our noses. His lips were firm but soft as he nudged my mouth open and touched his tongue to mine. Electricity coiled down my spine when I sank into the moment, finding its rhythm, letting Kenshin teach me the way of it. Everything disappeared except for sensation.
There was no past.
No future.
Only now.
And now was good.
Very good.
Now was fire and flame but not the kind that burned and left a scar. This fire was only pleasure and warmth. It was peace.
I’d tasted Kenshin’s blood and it was sweet, but his kiss was sweeter still. Berries and mint.
Growing bolder, I let my hands find Kenshin and explore. They snaked under his shirt to discover a rippled abdomen. They rounded his neck and curled through his hair. He groaned with pleasure, causing more electricity to current through me, seeking the tips of my fingers and toes.
Kissing was…was…intoxicating. So intoxicating that my mind bullied its way back through the sensations to slam down a wall. Stop, it screamed. Stop! You’re not ready for what comes next. Not yet.
I pulled away, gasping for air. “I’m—”
Kenshin put a gentle finger to my lips, then kissed my forehead. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. That was the most amazing kiss of my life. Please don’t say you regret it?”
“No. No,” I said. “I don’t regret it. Not at all. I’m just not ready for anything else. I was starting to…to lose myself.” I paused, hands coming to my face. I hid behind them, feeling naked. “I hope I didn’t hurt your nose?”
Kenshin’s worried face transformed into something effervescent as a laugh bubbled up. It was slow at first, a small, hiccuping chuckle until it took hold and became a belly-shaker guffaw. “My nose is just fine. Don’t you worry. You’re a very good kisser.”
I studied my fumbling hands for several seconds before finally glancing up. “It was my first time.”
All expression left Kenshin’s face as he took in what I was saying. “Oh. Oh. Right. Of course. I should have realized.” He reached out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering. “I hope I didn’t let you down.”
“It was everything I could have hoped for,” I said with a bashful smile. “I haven’t liked being touched since that day, but for some reason whenever you touch me I feel relaxed and at peace.”
Kenshin’s honey eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”
I nodded.
“I hope this doesn’t change anything between us,” said Kenshin, fidgeting. “But you know how I mentioned having magical powers, and me not being very strong.”
“Yeah.” I dipped my head, butterflies flitting about my stomach.
“Well, one thing I’m able to do is relax people. It’s only ever been with my voice, and I can’t make people do anything they don’t want, but I do impart a sort of peace that puts people at ease and makes them happy to see me. My father calls it the power of popularity. It’s why I’m his liaison to the community, and why I found you so interesting. You were wholly unaffected by my charms.”
“And you think you’re magically affecting me with your touch?”
“There’s always that possibility, but I don’t want you to feel I’m taking advantage of you.”
I smiled, finding his concern more than a little comforting. “Magic or that mythical thing called chemistry,” I said, leaning in for another kiss. “For once in my life, I’m willing to go all in and take a gamble with my old curmudgeonly heart.”
Chapter 18
I perched in front of Kenshin on the mare as we rode towards Tokyo, leading Ryuu. Turned out Ryuu had been injured, although mildly, with a gash on his left rear hindquarter. Despite the added weight, the mare was making good time, and I was enjoying the solid feel of Kenshin behind me. We held the reins together, and I felt encompassed in a safe, warm hug. The scenery seemed different as we rode, and it was more than the change of direction. I was different, so the world I saw was different. In that kiss, I’d reclaimed something. I’d been a vampire for decades, and the red ghost since coming to Tokyo. Now I was also a woman, not just in anatomy and appearance, but in spirit. I liked this newly discovered womanhood. It was eye-opening and freeing and fit me like a second skin.
As I studied all the different wildflowers peeking up sporadically underfoot, pretty purples, pinks, and yellows…I started to sing a song from my youth, my father’s favorite. It seemed somehow apropos.
Kenny Rogers’ version of the song, “The Gambler,” held fond memories and a few valuable life lessons too.
Kenshin joined, and I didn’t stop to inquire about how he knew the old song, instead choosing to roll with it and enjoy. It didn’t matter how he’d learned it, just that he did. He was full of surprises.
After the part about dying in your sleep left our lips, our voices faded as we approached a narrow valley between mountains. If we were going to be ambushed by the Kami or their priests, this bottleneck would be the best strategic point for an attack. “Can you smell anything?” asked Kenshin.
“No. We’re upwind.”
“We can go around, but it will add time. What do you think? What does your gut tell you?”
“That gut I talked about was actually my nose, which isn’t coming in handy at the moment. All I know is Midori has already been gone four days.”
Kenshin nudged the mare to a quicker pace. “The direct route then. Fingers crossed.”
I strained my senses trying to smell or hear anything that might indicate an attack.
Grass. Birds. Mud. Those were the only aromas in this area so far.
I could hear birds chirp, a mouse scurry, and the clomp of horse hooves.
Almost through the valley, I thought we were in the clear when a gun echoed a microsecond before a searing hot pain sliced through my arm. Kenshin and I toppled from the mare. We landed in a heap, and I rolled to the side, unsheathing my sword as a half-dozen Kami priests swarmed the valley. Crazed with fear, the mare raced from the valley leaving Kenshin and I behind with the stallion. Ryuu, his eyes wild and rimmed in white, charged at one of the priests and trampled him before he could defend himself. I picked my own priest to attack when I noticed Kenshin was slow to get up, his shirt wet with crimson at the shoulder. The bullet that grazed me had hit him. “You okay?” I called.
“Yes,” he yelled, pulling out his gun and waving me onward. I didn’t waste time as I rushed for two priests shielded by a bush. I felled the priests within seconds of them firing their first shots.
Unlike when the Kami and priests had attacked the library, I was able to keep my bloodlust in check. The smell of blood was everywhere within seconds, but somehow I was able to think clearly as I zigzagged through the melee, dodging swords and bullets with super human speed. This clarity slowed my taking of more victims…prevented me from killing. I injured the priests. I broke legs and knocked others unconscious. But I did not kill. Something held me back. These were people with families—moms and dads and siblings they’d left at home—parents who would weep at learning they’d lost a child. I almost wished for the return of my bloodlust so I wouldn’t have to think about such things.
Another boom ricocheted through the valley, this one bigger than the first, and I spun to find its origin. I ground to a halt at the sight of Kenshin lying flat with a sword staked through his abdomen, Miikio standing by his side, hands coiling a fireball. “Perfect. Now that I have your attention, Valentin-san, I w
ould like to discuss a proposition with you.”
I tightened the grip on my sword. Kenshin wasn’t dead yet, but he would be soon, all because of Miikio. Simmering with rage, my bloodlust rose. I didn’t care what face Miikio wore, I would end him.
Perhaps seeing the change in me, Miikio collapsed his fireball and stood with his hands in the air. “I can save him,” he said, “if you agree to come with me to Mount Fuji. Hana wants to talk with you.”
I dropped my sword, the pulsing pull of adrenaline, my will to fight, draining away. “Do it,” I said. “Save him.”
Miikio nodded to his priests. They approached. I threw out my hands to stop them. “Heal him first.”
Without preamble, Miikio pulled the sword from Kenshin, who screamed in pain. I echoed his anguish but in fear. Miikio knelt and laid his hands upon Kenshin. Had I not been there to hear and witness it myself, I might have thought a healing would be a peaceful thing, but it was not. Kenshin writhed with the agony of it. His pain was a knife to my own gut that kept twisting as if to dig out my core. After what seemed an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, Miikio stood. “It’s done. He will live.”
I eyed Kenshin on the ground, half expecting him to pop up and declare himself well. He did not. Instead he stared vacantly at the sky. “He doesn’t look okay,” I growled, barely keeping my anger in check.
Miikio offered a lazy half-smile. “He’s exhausted, as am I. He will be fine. You have my word. Now it’s time for you to keep yours.” Miikio nodded to his men.
They bound my hands, then heaved me atop a horse. I quickly scanned the area for Ryuu, but he was gone. No time now, but when my job was done, I’d search for him. The group of priests mounted their horses and prepared to move out. Yet, Kenshin lay abandoned on the ground, his expression still vacant. I watched the rise and fall of his chest, but there was nothing else, no other movement. Not the twitch of a finger or the blink of an eye. “Wait,” I shouted, trying to drop back off my horse with hands tied behind my back. “What about Kenshin? You can’t leave him here. We’re in the middle of nowhere. His horses are gone.”
Tokyo's Last Vampire: Division 12: The Berkhano Vampire Collection Page 9