Miikio rode alongside, pushing me up straight in the saddle. “That wasn’t part of the deal, my dear. He is healed. He will survive, or not, based on his strength of heart.”
I narrowed my eyes and spat at Miikio. I’d never spit on anyone in my life, but my aim was true. “You are vile, and nothing like your father. He would be ashamed of you.”
Miikio appeared startled but recovered quickly, wiping the smear of spit from his face. “It’s good that I didn’t know him then. Isn’t it?”
“Very,” I bit back, my mind scrambling for purchase. We were fifty miles at least from Tokyo, and some of the mountain passes were dangerous. I hated to think of Kenshin attempting the journey on foot, especially when I wasn’t sure exactly how healed he was. I’d fed off him, which meant he was low on iron and his food supply was meager. But was he any safer with the Kami? If Miikio knew his secret, that Kenshin had magical abilities, he would surely be brought back to the Kami. But then, what? Kenshin might be in even more danger there.
The band of men and horses at the front of the group began to ride. It was now or never. Leave Kenshin or take him? Tell his secret or keep his confidence? Would he forgive me for breaking his trust?
My slow vampire heart thudded in my chest…tick, tock, tick, tock.
I turned to Kenshin as my horse broke into a trot following the steed in front. What would you want me to do? In many ways, I felt as though I knew Kenshin well beyond what one might expect from only a few days’ acquaintance. Thanks to our shared visions, I’d seen him grow from a child to a man. I’d tasted both his blood and his lips and knew many of his questions before they were asked. But this was much bigger than that. It was life and death.
“He’s a witch,” I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper. The wind carried my words before anyone could hear them.
I cleared my throat and tried again. “He’s a witch.”
My voice was stronger, but still, I drew no one’s attention.
I closed my eyes and gathered my breath. “He’s a witch,” I screamed.
The line of horses ground to a halt. “What did you say?” asked Miikio drawing near.
“Kenshin is Kami.”
Chapter 19
After a day and a half of riding, I was unceremoniously dumped in an honest-to-goodness dungeon. Three stone walls, iron bars and nothing else within sight. So much for being an honored guest. I would have thought they’d treat their vampire savior better, but apparently not. They shoved Kenshin next door where I could hear but not see him. He’d woken up a few times during our journey but was still dazed. I worried Miikio hadn’t actually done as promised and instead turned Kenshin into some kind of walking zombie.
While I was pacing my cage, giving Kenshin a pep talk, the door to the cell block opened, metal hinges shrieking. Midori’s sassy voice, berating a guard, echoed down the hallway. My heart leapt with joy. If there were room enough in my cell to do a cartwheel I would have done one. I was that excited. Instead, I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet waiting for her to appear and vowed that if she’d been marred in any way, heads would roll.
I tried to hide my excitement as the guard shoved Midori into my cell, but as soon as she was within reach, I snatched her into a hug. “I’ve missed you. Are you okay? Have they hurt you? If so, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
“Is Kol okay?” she asked, always a mother first.
“He’s safe,” I said, pulling back to look her over. “A friend is watching him. I apologize in advance if he’s acquired some interesting new skills.”
Midori frowned. “If I ever see him again…I don’t think I’m getting out of here.” She paused, surveying me. “Do you need blood? You look different.”
I stopped to assess how I was feeling. The answer was not too bad, considering. Apparently, Kenshin really did have premium blood. “I’m fine for now. Why were you taken?”
Midori ushered me into a corner of the cell. “They’re trying to make vampires,” she whispered.
“I know that,” I murmured back.
Midori’s jaw dropped. “You do?” She shook her head. “Of course, you do. You’re you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re amazing. Now tell me how you found out.”
“I saw one of their mistakes, a beast they created in Hayakawa.”
“You’ve been to Hayakawa and back? You have been busy.” She smiled. “It’s good to know you care so much.”
“Enough about how I’m awesome. Tell me why they took you.”
“Apparently, they needed help reading a spellbinder from an old pre-Rift witch. It’s something that was found after the Rift, and it’s what caused the purge of foreigners and vampires.”
“How?” I asked, confused. “What would an old grimoire have to do with the genocides?”
“Spellbinders aren’t just full of castings. They’re also a diary for each generation. The spellbinder they found belonged to a Romanian witch. How she ended up on God’s Island, I don’t know, but she was here and with a Berkhano vampire no less.”
“The Berkhano are the oldest of the old and incredibly powerful.”
Midori nodded. “That’s what I gathered from reading the book, and so did the Kami. The first half of the spellbinder is in Romanian, the second in kanji. It tells of their love affair and how he longed to be rid of his vampire curse so they might have children and grow old together.”
“And this has to do with the genocides, how?”
“The Kami have been in contact with the witches in other divisions. They have a long-distance radio that works sporadically if the weather beyond the dome is clear. The other witches believe it was a spell to end the vampire curse that brought the Rift upon us all. Whether it was cast by this Romanian witch for her vampire lover, is unclear. She wasn’t the first one of her kind to have a Berkhano lover. Legends say the Berkhano are drawn to witch powers.”
“So the witches blamed the Rift on the vampires and set out to rid this world of them?”
“In this Division yes, but maybe not in others. It’s also why foreigners were purged. The witch wasn’t Japanese, so she was to be feared…as were others like her, or so the reasoning goes.”
“How very Nazi of them. You still haven’t told me why they took you?”
“The Kami had trouble translating the Romanian portions of the spellbinder. It has a casting for what looks like the vampire curse, but they couldn’t seem to make a vampire with it.”
“And that’s where you and your love of languages come in?”
“Yep. Afraid so.”
“Did they tell you why they want to create a vampire?”
Midori shook her head. “I didn’t tell them about you, though. I would never do that.”
“Juro and Hana had a son. Vampires shouldn’t be able to have children, but something about the Rift changed the rules. His name is Miikio, and he’s powerful, supposedly the only powerful Kami produced in generations. The witches think they made a mistake killing the vampires and are trying to take it back.”
Midori crossed her arms over her stomach, hugging herself. “I don’t think that’s their only mistake. The magic in the spellbinder is dark. I’m not a witch, but even I can tell there’s something not right about it. But the Kami protect it as a Christian would treat the Bible or a Muslim the Quran. What the Kami have shown to the public is not a reality. Not even close.”
We stopped talking as dungeon doors shrieked open again. I smelled Miikio before he appeared. He seemed tired. Frayed. “It is time,” he declared. “I let you have a reunion with the friend you were worried about and now on to more important matters.”
“Time for what?” I asked. “Because I’m still not going to make a vampire for you. I agreed to come, but I never agreed to help.”
Miikio picked a piece of lint off his robe and flicked it away, as he tilted to see in Kenshin’s cell. “No. It’s not time for that. Not yet.”
“What then?”
Miikio pulled himself upright and found my eyes. Something was haunting about the way he looked at me and it sent chills down my torso. He was already sorry for something. “It’s time for your reunion with Hana, of course. She’s very anxious to see you again.”
Chapter 20
Wrists bound behind my back, Miikio ushered me out of the dungeon and down the hallways of the Kami’s compound, which was part temple, part hoarder’s closet. The floors, what I could see of them, were made of wood covered by traditional Japanese tatami woven mats and the columns lining the hallways were painted a rich red, with paper lanterns lighting the way. Marring what would have been beautiful, was a whole lot of clutter. Nice stuff but way too much of it. Priceless artifacts would be best displayed alone, not stacked right next to something equally as priceless. I recognized a few items I’d retrieved from the radiation zones and realized Midori must have been doing business with the Kami. It was probably how they learned she was a gifted polyglot. We passed many robed Kami and priests who shied away and hugged the walls to put distance between us. They wanted me to make more of my kind, yet not one dared look me in the eye. “The Kami doing renovations?” I asked, trying to understand the mess.
“What?” asked a confused Miikio.
I nodded to the floors. “What’s with all the junk?”
Miikio surveyed the scene, frowning. “It’s not junk. Most of these items are pre-Rift museum quality heirlooms.”
“Then why do you have it lining your hallways like junk?”
Miikio let out a long, steady breath, a bouquet of sadness wafting off him. “I don’t know. Ask Hana,” he said, quickening his pace.
My heart revved as we continued to walk. Hana. I’d spent nearly three decades missing her so much it hurt and furiously despising her for leaving. The schism between the two disparate feelings was almost as painful as the emotions themselves. I could say, with confidence, the internal confusion caused by loving and hating someone at the same time was not good for the soul. Now that I’d met Miikio and knew Hana left because of her unexpected pregnancy, I was even more confused. Juro would have loved being a father and me a sister. In fact, I was certain I would have been the best sister in the history of sisters.
Arriving at a heavy wooden door at the top of the compound, Miikio guided me inside. “Mother. I have brought her as you asked.”
“Thank you,” said a voice, a shadowed figure rising from a chair behind a paper screen. “Please, carry out my other orders. I will see you soon.”
“As you wish.” Miikio bowed, closing the door behind him.
My stomach did loop-de-loops as I waited for Hana to appear. She was in no hurry and seemed to be doing her hair. Meanwhile, I was bound and waiting like a servant. This didn’t feel like a reunion. Why the preamble? Why the mystery? Where was Hana’s smile for a daughter she’d not seen in years? More importantly, where was her apology for leaving? It didn’t help that the room smelled faintly of rot. I wasn’t feeling warm and fuzzy about my situation here.
It was five minutes before Hana deigned to appear. Five minutes of me sweating and worrying and growing increasingly angrier. I hadn’t laid eyes on Hana yet but already understood she wasn’t the woman I’d known as a child. She appeared with a flourish of satin robes and perfumed smiles. “My dear, it is so good to see you,” she said, sashaying over, looking almost the same as she had when I’d last seen her. The features were sharper, yes, but she seemed the same young mother I’d known. “First, you must tell me of Juro. Is this world still blessed with his presence?”
“No,” I said, simply. Because of you, I wanted to scream.
Hana cocked her head to the side. “How?”
“He reached his end and wanted to die. I took his life for him.”
“I suppose nearly nine hundred years is a good run. One would grow weary of this world. Now tell me of you. You are beautiful. Stunning, in fact. But why?” she asked, gesturing up and down the length of me. “A vampire. You wouldn’t have wanted this. You longed for motherhood.”
“How do you know? People change. You left,” I said, a sharp edge to my voice, despite Hana being right.
“I know because you were my daughter.”
“The daughter you left.”
Hana’s mouth grew thin. “This petulance is beneath you, Valaria. What is done, is done. I had my reasons.”
I almost smiled at that. Here was the Hana I knew. What is done, is done. A day wouldn’t pass without some nugget of wisdom from Hana. “I was dying. You were gone, and Juro couldn’t bear to be alone. You are right, I didn’t want this.”
Hana reached for a stray piece of my hair and spun it around her finger as she studied my face. “All for the best, my dear, because you are needed. Let me tell you—”
I ducked out of her reach, pulling some strands of hair out in the process. “Stop. You have asked your questions. Now I’ve got mine.”
Hana danced her fingers through the air. “If you must.”
I turned, presenting my bindings. I was not going to continue this conversation trussed up like an animal.
Without Hana touching me, the ropes fell away. Magic. “Ask your questions but do be quick. Miikio will return soon.”
I flexed and rolled my wrists as I paced the room, seeking hints as to who Hana had become in the thirty-plus years since I’d seen her. “Why did you leave?”
“You are wasting time, Valaria. You know the answer to that question.”
“I know you had a child, but not why you left. Juro would have loved being a father, and I would have been a good sister.”
Hana’s gaze became distant as if she were reaching back into her past. Her features softened, and she resembled even more the Hana of old. A tear bubbled up and hung on her lower lid before disappearing into thin air. It was there, and then it was gone. I realized that Hana was using a glamour of some sort. I peeked behind her screen as I passed it and saw a vanity with powders, perfumes, and a hairbrush so overtaken with hair it could have been mistaken for a small rodent. Definitely a glamour. The Hana I could see had thick, shiny hair. When Hana spoke next, her voice was brittle. “I was pregnant by a vampire, and such a thing was unheard of. The Rift changed our world somehow, and I didn’t understand it. I was scared and fled, to seek my own kind, to try and understand.”
“It was Juro’s child. He deserved to know.”
“I didn’t know what was growing inside of me. It could have been a demon. I worried when it was born it might be different. Look different. Juro would have been crushed.” The corners of Hana’s mouth tugged upward. “I needn’t have worried though. He grew to be a fine boy, and I have become Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess.
I tried to hide my surprise. Amaterasu was the highest of the gods. She ruled over all. “You have risen far,” I offered, not knowing what to say.
“Very. It is an honor to serve.”
Serve who? I wondered. Because it wasn’t the people.
Finding my eyes, Hana blinked at me coyly. “Have I answered the questions to your satisfaction? May we get on to the business at hand? Miikio will return in a minute.”
I held her gaze, unblinking. “Not yet. You stole my friend. One of your priests took a mother from her son and ran me through. If I were human, I would have died.”
Hana laughed, a melodic singsong. “Lucky you are a vampire.”
“Lucky indeed,” I bit back, stepping closer to a pedestal, on top of which was a leather-bound book. “Is this the spellbinder?”
“Your friend has been very helpful in its translation,” said Hana with a nod.
I placed a tentative hand upon the book. It was embossed with gold leaf, much like the diary in my room at the library. “She said it led to the genocides. That it is dark.”
“Those were dark times. People were scared and confused. The spellbinder didn’t cause the genocides. Our human fears did,” said Hana, placing her hand next to mine. Much has changed since I came to the Mount. The Kami are thinki
ng a different way now because the Rift imparted a new set of rules, and it took time to understand them.”
“And now vampires are good?” I asked, bitterness taking root in my gut, thinking of how Juro and I had spent years hiding. We’d led half-lives, always afraid.
“Vampires are a necessity,” replied Hana, matter of factly.
I yanked my hand from the book. “A necessity? You were madly in love with a vampire for years. Have you become…so…so corrupted that you can’t remember what you shared with Juro?”
Hana grabbed me by the chin, long nails digging in, and turned me to face her. “Listen, little girl, not all vampires are good like Juro.”
“Neither are all witches.” I pointed to the brush behind the screen full of her hair. “Show me your true self. Drop the veil. Is there any Hana left in you or are you only Amaterasu now?”
“I am still me,” she replied, voice quivering.
“Show me.”
“A veil means nothing. Only my words and my actions count.”
“What are you afraid of?”
Hana straightened. “I am afraid of nothing. I am Amaterasu.”
“Then show me the real Sun Goddess.”
She turned away as if to leave. “I was raped,” I blurted, wanting her to stay. Perhaps if I revealed something of myself, she would follow suit. I needed to see what lay beyond her veil. A part of me, beyond pure curiosity, felt it was critical to know. She hid something there, a secret. “It is why Juro turned me. It was six men. They took me for themselves then filled me with arrows.”
Hana cried out in despair. The whole of her body shook as she stumbled towards me and enveloped me in a hug. She caressed my back in a slow, steady circle, just as she’d done when I was child. I felt her frail bones as she hugged me. Hana was far smaller than she appeared. With a last kiss to my cheek, she stepped back letting the veil fall. “The spellbinder…it is only volume one. We have been going to the radiation zone looking for the other.” Hana ran a hand over her head of sparse hair. “I am able to bear the radiation more than most, so I venture out more frequently.”
Tokyo's Last Vampire: Division 12: The Berkhano Vampire Collection Page 10