In the back of my mind, a small fox voice screamed this wasn’t me. I might’ve been a killer, but I was never cruel. Drawing out death never brought me joy before. I halted in my tracks, fingertips inches from Tamotsu’s shivering, sprawled body. Not me.
Not me.
I took a deep breath and a step back. My feras leapt up inside my mind and snuggled in close to my awareness, to where they could help and lend support.
Not me. I took another step back and clung to my feras until the rage inside my mind died down.
Where were the guys? Surely they’d know something had gone wrong by now. Should I call out to them? The Kappa’s control had been obliterated. A shiver raced up my spine and punched my brain. No! They couldn’t see me like this again. I’d been lucky not to hurt them last time. Besides, they couldn’t help with an internal battle. Drawing in a laboured breath, I turned my attention inward, calling for my feras. Help me.
They jumped in response and tackled the beast, bringing her down from her blood vengeance. Her desire to kill receded. My muscles strained and condensed as I half-transformed, sweat broke out on my face and trickled into my eyes, stinging them like droplets of acid. I pushed the beast inside her cage.
I staggered across the room to the spare bottles. When I reached for one, I snatched my hand back, realizing it remained clawed and beastly. Drawing in a shaky breath, I refocused and completed the change.
I collapsed to the ground in a sweaty heap, my breathing ragged, my body humming with pain. My limbs hung limp by my sides, as heavy as cinderblocks and as malleable as noodles. I forced my eyes open and met the hard gaze of the Kappa. His body twitched as he struggled to move. I’d broken his legs.
Crap! I scrambled to my feet, snatched a water bottle and hurried to Tamotsu’s side before anything else could go wrong. Who knew how fast he healed.
“Get up,” I hissed, yanking hard on his arm. Pain lanced through my body.
He stumbled to straighten, groggy and incoherent. His legs oozed blood onto the industrial flooring and shook to support his weight. Twisting the cap off and tossing it to the side, I poured the water into the bowl on top of the Kappa’s swaying head.
Tamotsu howled and dropped to his knees, seizing his face with both hands. He rocked back and forth, muttering in Japanese.
“Stay and obey,” I said, and tried to hide my shock when he did exactly what I asked.
“As you command, Master,” he croaked.
Well, I’ll be damned. It worked. Now what?
Chapter Thirty-Six
“If I could get my membership fee back, I’d resign from the human race.”
~Fred Allen
I own this mutha, I sent via mind speech to the guys using my best gangsta impersonation. For some reason, I felt more badass staring down at my now captive Kappa. Most of my aches and pains had dulled thanks to Lucien’s blood bond, which promoted quicker healing. Within minutes, the men barged into the warehouse, moving around Tamotsu and giving him a wide berth.
Clint pulled up short. “What the hell happened to you?”
Wick stumbled to a stop a few feet from me and growled. He turned toward the Kappa, but Tristan placed a hand on his arm as if to hold him back. Wick stopped, but the sounds of his rumbling chest filled the warehouse.
Tristan’s sapphire eyes remained glued to me, taking in my sweaty, naked appearance and bruised face with a quick glance up and down my body. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I waved them off.
The men stiffened and glanced at Tamotsu. Did he try to order them around like he had me? Was he feeding off them? I turned to the mutant turtle. “You will do no harm, you will not put anyone under compulsion, and you will not feed, unless you have my leave.” I mentally reviewed what I said to make sure I covered all my bases. Just because he was mine to control, didn’t mean he couldn’t act on his own. He could probably slip around orders as well as Shifters and Weres could avoid the truth without outright lying.
Allan stood in front of Tamotsu and prattled off a slew of Japanese.
“There is no need to translate, Akihiko. I speak English. I understood her orders.”
I mouthed Allan’s Japanese name and made a silent note to research it later—if we all survived.
“How is that possible?” I asked.
The Kappa’s reptilian eyes cut to me. “My psionic skills allow me to absorb languages easily.”
Another thought crossed my mind. I snapped my fingers. “You are not to dispel the water on your head by bowing to anyone else or shaking it from your head.”
Tamotsu wheezed. “My compulsion prevents me from actively pursuing freedom once bound. You need not worry. The water can only be removed by unfair means of a third party. Or…” He paused to give me a weird look. “You can, of course, order me free.”
I snorted.
“What is your name?” Allan asked the Kappa.
“Tamotsu.”
Allan’s eyebrows furrowed above his nose, like two mice burrowing in for the winter. “Of what?” he asked.
The question made no sense to me, but apparently it did to the Kappa. He sagged in on himself as if he’d received an MMA body shot and couldn’t breathe. “Nothing,” he said. “Not anymore.”
“Explain.” My hands flew to my hips.
The Kappa turned to me. “Tamotsu is a Japanese name for protector or defender. Akihiko has reminded me of my biggest failure. My biggest shame.”
“What did you defend?”
“My nation. I defended the coast and fed only on those wishing ill to the inhabitants. I can read minds and would pluck out the evil ones from their thoughts.”
“How did you end up in Canada?” I asked.
“A giant wave sent from the depths of hell. The next thing I knew, I washed up on your shore along with debris and carcasses from my homeland.” Tamotsu’s head dropped. “I failed. I failed them all.”
I fought the instinctive urge to place a consoling hand on his shoulder when I remembered what this one creature was responsible for. “So you tried to redeem yourself by feeding off supernaturals and using humans?”
“I fed off humans at first. For months. And the local authorities had no idea. It wasn’t until I fed off a supe, by chance, that I realized a better food source existed. There’s a higher density of paranormals in this region. It’s like a buffet.” The Kappa licked his lips. “I never fed off the Japanese living in the area, supe or otherwise.”
“Kind of you to racially profile your victims. What happened to only feeding on evil?”
Tamotsu shrugged. “You’re all evil here. North Americans have no honour.”
We stood in silence as we observed one another. What was I going to do with him? I wanted to punch him in the throat for his last comment, but that was only a temporary solution. I had orders to deliver him to Lucien, but he’d just add Tamotsu to his collection of unique underlings. I risked the possibility of running across the Kappa in a future confrontation from opposite sides. The idea did not thrill me. Right now, he belonged to me. I had control. Could I send him back to Japan? He’d probably revert right back to his evil supe-slaying self the moment he got his freedom. Kill him? That was the simplest solution.
I cursed.
“That language is not attractive on a lady’s tongue. It is quite unbecoming,” Tamotsu said.
“Good thing I’m not a lady,” I said.
“What are you going to do?” Wick leaned in and asked.
I wish I knew.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“People think it must be fun to be a super genius, but they don’t realize how hard it is to put up with all the idiots in the world.”
~Bill Watterson
My mind raced through possibilities faster than I could chug down the only three water bottles I could find. The transformation to the beast and back had left me thirsty and shaken, my skin a fragile protective layer to numb bones and drained flesh. Wick and Tristan had remained in the warehouse,
probably to hiss and howl at one another, but also to allow room for the Kappa in the vehicle. Once we arrived at Lucien’s mansion, Allan and Clint abandoned me in the car with Tamotsu so I could recuperate while they ran inside to brief their master. The leather seats creaked, and the whole car reeked of Vampires. I found Tamotsu’s ocean scent refreshing, even with its tang of seaweed.
So thirsty!
Suck it up, buttercup. Time to nail this Kappa!
I met his disturbing reptilian gaze and said, “Okay, listen up, Donatello—”
“It’s Tamotsu,” the Kappa interrupted.
I waved him off. “Whatever. You serve me and will do as I say. You will follow Lucien’s orders, as if you served him. The only time you will not follow his directives is if they will cause me or mine harm in any way. Mine include all Werewolves from Wick’s pack, including Wick, all Wereleopards in Tristan’s pride including Tristan, my four Witch neighbours—Ben, Matt, Patty and Christopher, and the police officer, Stan Stevens. If Lucien’s orders will bring harm to any of the aforementioned parties or he orders you to empty your bowl, you will decline and flee to me as soon as possible. If Lucien asks you who you serve, you will tell him it’s him. Is that clear?”
Tamotsu’s sharp turtle mouth flicked up at the corner in what I could only assume was a smile. “Perfectly,” he said, before the wheezing laugh erupted from his mouth. “Anything else, master?”
I had a sinking suspicion I’d left something out, but I couldn’t figure out what. I’d never make it as a lawyer. Something niggled at my brain. All the fine print stuff gave me a headache. At least Wick and Tristan would be safe. “Am I leaving anything out?”
Tamotsu stilled. His reptilian eyes closed and a weird buzzing sound filled the room. Was he humming? “You may wish to limit who I feed on.”
I snapped my fingers. “You will not feed on me or mine. You may feed on any humans or supes Lucien provides, but not to the point of death. You may not kill your food.”
The Kappa nodded. “That will suffice.”
“Oh!” My sharp voice caused the Kappa to flinch. “And you may not disclose any of this information to anyone, including Lucien.”
The Kappa wheezed. “As you wish.”
Tamotsu withdrew into himself, slouching and shoulders rounded. His eyes glazed over in a closed-off kind of way. When I hopped out of the car and walked toward the house, he took his time getting out to join me. His shuffle looked more lopsided than before. Even with his supernatural quick healing, he still hurt from our fight.
“You killed a lot of innocent people,” I said, trying to assuage the guilt broiling in my gut by reminding myself what this supe was capable of when untethered.
Tamotsu nodded. “Serving a Vampire is a worthy punishment for my transgressions. I will make you proud and bring honour to your house.” He straightened as the guards opened the front doors of the house. Lucien and Allan walked out.
“And shield your thoughts, and mine, if possible, when Allan is around,” I leaned over and whispered into the Kappa’s ear.
Tamotsu’s eyes slid sideways. “Akihiko can read minds?” He sounded thoughtful. “It will be nice to have someone to speak to in my native tongue.”
I grunted and watched Lucien and Allan stop at the top of the stairs, expecting us to come to them. How typical.
“Rest assured, Carus. I will keep your thoughts protected.”
Well, that was a relief. I fought to hide my satisfied grin as I climbed the stairs beside the Kappa to stand before Lucien and Allan.
“Little Carus.” Lucien’s voice was more condescending than usual. Must be because of the audience. “You’ve done well.”
“The Kappa is yours,” I said. “He will obey your orders.”
“Will he now?”
I nodded.
Allan narrowed his eyes at me, and it took every ounce of effort not to hold my breath—Lucien would notice that. But Allan remained silent. Did he sense the shield around my mind? Did that give away Tamotsu’s ownership? Allan said nothing, keeping his thoughts to himself. What were his motivations? He wasn’t against Lucien…but he wasn’t for him either, at least not all the time.
“Akihiko,” the Kappa said, interrupting my internal musings. “I look forward to conversing with you regarding our shared homeland.”
Allan turned his attention from me to the reptile with a small smile. “As do I,” he said.
“Will you join us for a drink?” Lucien asked me.
“Um…no thank you. Don’t think I’d enjoy your particular vintage.”
Lucien laughed. “Ah, but I enjoy yours.”
Thoroughly creeped out, I managed to say goodbye and extract myself from the situation without any bloodletting and with as much grace as I could muster, which is to say, very little.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Many people would sooner die than think. In fact, they do.”
~Bertrand Russell
Booth wasn’t at the downtown SRD headquarters, which I was fairly certain she lived at. Her office had been cleared out, and Angie hadn’t seen or heard from her. Apparently, her unexplained absence pissed off the big boys at the top, almost as much as the missing files. She’d taken a number of confidential folders; mine among them. With no love lost between Booth and her overly curvy Wereleopard receptionist, Angie took great joy in telling me the latest SRD gossip.
Only one other place existed where she might be. Pulling up to Booth’s mother’s house, I slammed the car in park, jumped out, and jogged up to the front door. I didn’t knock, opting to barge in.
Booth and Herman curled into one another on the loveseat in the living room where Booth’s mom had died. They sipped tea. I sniffed the air. Chamomile tea. No lingering scent of the body meant they’d called in a Witch for cleanup.
Booth and Herman didn’t react to my dramatic entrance. Once I took in the living room and returned my gaze to her, Booth waved her arm at the armchair across from them. A third cup of tea waited on the coffee table in front of it. Herbal scented steam rose from the dainty cup.
“We’ve been expecting you.” Booth’s gravelly voice sounded different than before, fuller, as if she’d held something back before.
“You owe me some answers.” I plopped down on the floral cushion.
“I owe you nothing.”
“I did you a favor.”
“Will you waste it on a silly question?”
That stopped me. More went on here than met the eye. I could never read Booth, and now was no exception. “No. You’re right. I should save the favor. How do I get a hold of you?”
Booth reached over the coffee table and handed me an ugly figurine with a cobra-headed Egyptian goddess. At least, I assumed it was Egyptian. “Hold this and say my name.”
“Agent Joyce Booth?”
Booth shook her head. “Renenutet.”
I sat down and watched the two of them sip their drinks as if they entertained like this every day. They looked so domestic and so wrong at the same time. Their otherness clashed with the floral sofa pattern and excessive use of doilies.
Yet, something about seeing the two of them together stirred my heart. I wanted that. Companionship.
“You’ve gained more, since we first met.” Booth’s intense gaze penetrated my soul. I squinted at her face and realized why she looked different—she no longer wore her trendy glasses. There was something odd about her eyes, too. Not quite human.
I frowned at her statement. “What do you mean?”
Herman leaned forward and analyzed me; his regard sent a cold sheet of ice over my body. Despite the harshness of the sensation, it didn’t feel malicious. “Ah,” he croaked. “I see it now. The Carus.”
I sat back and sipped my tea. The herbs coated my tongue and tingled my nasal passage. Why did everyone seem to know more about me than I did? My ignorance pricked me like a thorn in the ass. Good ol’ Donny was getting a visit very soon.
“You have four guides now. Before you h
ad three,” Booth said.
“One too many. I feel like my head is going to explode.”
Booth nodded. “You need to dispel some.”
“But how do I choose which one, and how can I dispel something that is a part of me? They make up my soul.” I patted my chest with the palm on my hand, in case they didn’t realize how much my soul meant to me. I was pretty sure the soul wasn’t housed in my heart, but that’s what hurt every time I thought about the prospects of losing my soul, so it seemed appropriate.
“Dispelling does not mean losing. Your guides will always walk with you, once found and bonded.” Herman’s voice raked the air, interrupting my disparaging thoughts.
“Could you be any more cryptic?”
“You fear something you shouldn’t. I merely want to assuage that,” he said.
“Can you elaborate?”
Herman blinked, his slit eyes refocused on my face. “The Carus must walk this journey alone.”
“Well, can you tell me what’s up with the two of you? Without me having to cash in on my favor? Did someone brainwash Herman? Or why—”
“Sobek,” Booth interrupted. “His name is Sobek.”
Herman turned his head and the two of them stared into each other’s eyes, in what I’d like to say was a dreamy way, but it was too still, too cold, too…different. And creepy.
Booth broke the eye contact first and glanced over at me. “To answer your two questions—we’re husband and wife, and yes, something like that.”
“I wish I could tell if you spoke the truth or not.”
A small smile appeared on Booth’s face. “Not the first time you’ve wished that, I bet.”
“Without me using my favour, will you tell me what you are?”
Herman, or Sobek, or whatever, stood up slowly, pulling Booth up beside him. “We must leave, Carus. We will give Feradea your regards.”
Huh? “Huh?”
Before I could demand some answers, the two clasped hands and disappeared. No puff of smoke, no lingering scents, nothing. Just disappeared. If the two empty tea cups didn’t sit on the coffee table in front of me, I’d consider committing myself to the nearest mental health institute.
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