Midnite's Daughter (Midnight Girl Book 1)

by R Gualtieri

  “Dust and lots of boxes,” Tamiko commented from her spot on an old chair, where she was busy looking at pictures from Stephen’s past.

  “What can I say?” he replied. “My parents are probably one step removed from being hoarders. The upside, though, is if we have any pictures of Great-grandpa Stephen, they’ll be up here.”

  Neither the room, the dust, nor the searching bothered Kisaki. They’d been there for a few hours now, going through box after box. Though they continued to search for pictures of her father, what they had uncovered so far was fascinating by itself. Mementos of the past, of lives that had been led. She’d never seen anything like it in the palace, where everything was so pristine and ordered. She smiled as she imagined a vast attic within the celestial palace, full to the brim with objects dating back to the dawn of time. The dust alone would surely be ten feet deep.

  Speaking of which, she sneezed as some got in her nose.

  “Look at what this accursed place has done to my ward,” Shitoro complained.

  “I’m fine. You don’t have to play nursemaid.”

  “Apparently I do. Since the moment I took my eyes off you, you decided to steal your mother’s sword, somehow turn it into a feather, and go running off with it to a whole other planet.”

  Tamiko started playing with an old music box, adorned with a graceful white ballerina on top. “You have to give her credit for being ambitious.”

  “I dare say, her mother will be less than impressed with such ambition.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “This Lady Midnite. What is she like?”

  Shitoro puffed out his chest. “Like nothing your feeble mind could possibly imagine, human. She is power incarnate, one of the thirteen members of the celestial court who hold judgment over creation itself. She is...”

  “I meant her personality. What’s she like to be around?”

  “Strong,” Kisaki said, “and patient. Stern, but fair. Her many servants seem to adore her.”

  “What about you?”

  Kisaki was silent for several moments. “I ... honestly do not know. When she speaks to me, I can see her eyes light up, but there always seems to be an undertone of sadness about her. Perhaps I am a disappointment.”

  Several more seconds of silence passed until Shitoro finally let out a heavy sigh. “It is not disappointment she feels. You were right the first time. It is sadness.”

  “But why?”

  The tiger youkai seemed to weigh his words. “What I am about to say, I do not say lightly, and I know your mother would not approve. So...”

  “My lips are sealed, Shitoro. You have my word. Besides, as you said, any such transgression would simply put both of us in more trouble than we already are.”

  “She sent me to retrieve you, you realize, yes?”

  “As I guessed.”

  “But do you know why?”

  “Because I left without permission, because I took her sword.”

  “The sword that’s a feather, right?” Stephen asked, digging through another box. “Pretty wild stuff.”

  “Wild and dangerous,” Shitoro replied, for once not adding an insult directed at either him or Tamiko. “But the Taiyosori is only half of it. Should it fall into the wrong hands, it could be disastrous, and not just for you or the rest of the humans. It could very well bring ruin to demonkind all the way up to the daimao. But as I said, that is only part of the issue. In fact, I believe that to be the far less important part in your mother’s eyes.”

  “How so?” Kisaki asked, her attention fully on the little demon despite the wonders of the past all around her.

  “Your mother fears for your life. It was worry for you that drove her to break the edict against travel to Earth. She could not come herself, not without her brethren knowing, but she could send me to find and retrieve you ... a task I have not executed to the best of my ability so far.”

  “You said it, not me,” Tamiko commented.

  “I think I have already proven I can take care of myself,” Kisaki said, a touch of pride in her voice.

  “She is not worried about humans, child. They are nothing.” He turned to the others. “No offense intended.”

  “I sincerely doubt that,” Tamiko replied.

  “Amazing,” Shitoro said with a grin. “You are capable of learning after all.” He then turned to face Kisaki again. “It is other youkai she fears. And not just them, but her brothers and sisters as well.”

  “The other daimao?” Kisaki asked. “But why?”

  “It is as I tried to explain earlier. Because they would kill you on sight if they knew of your existence.”

  “Why?” Tamiko cried. “What has Kisaki done to them?”

  “It is not what she has done. It is what she is.”

  “You said before that she’s a half demon. Is that it?”

  “Partially.” Shitoro sat down upon a box. “Hanyou are tolerated, if somewhat frowned upon, but the daimao are a proud race. Proud and, Lady Midnite forgive me, arrogant. They do not look upon humans as equals, not even remotely close.”

  Tamiko folded her arms. “You don’t say.”

  “It is not an uncommon sentiment among our people,” he said with an unconcerned shrug. “One might consider it not unwarranted either. Think of it. For how many countless centuries did your race live in caves, eating nothing but scraps? Then, how many more did they spend using crude weapons to wage petty wars? It is only now, recently, that your species has shown promise of being anything more than walking monkeys.”

  “Don’t lump us all in as promising,” Stephen said with a laugh. “You saw Robbie and his goons. Pretty sure they’re only a few generations removed from sloped foreheads.”

  Shitoro ignored his comment. “The daimao originally landed upon this world on the blessed isles. It is there they made their presence first known, and it is there they first ... intermingled with your species.”

  “So they had a thing for us monkeys?” Stephen surmised. “Kinky.”

  Shitoro made a sound of disgust. “Because of that, they hold the residents of those islands in slightly higher regard than the rest of your species. Divine blood is mingled with their own.” He glanced toward Tamiko. “In some instances, anyway. Hanyou born of the blessed isles are, as I said, tolerated. But those from elsewhere are not. I am sorry to say, Mistress Kisaki, but hanyou who are conceived of mortals from anywhere else are considered to be ... abominations, automatically sentenced to death.”

  “That’s pretty damned racist,” Tamiko said.

  “Perhaps,” Shitoro replied. “But it is their way, their edict, their tradition. Such things are not so easily overcome.”

  All of this hit Kisaki like a kick to the gut. She sat down hard upon the floor, tears obscuring her vision. “So that’s what I am? Merely an abomination in my mother’s eyes?”

  “No!” Shitoro knelt in front of her and took her hands. “Do you not see? Your mother hid you away because she saw you were anything but. She considered this Stephen Fuller to be a noble warrior, worthy of her love. And she considers her only child to be the same. She has kept you locked away all of these years because of her love for you, not shame. All she has done may seem cruel at times, but it has been to protect you, to allow you to live your life without fear. And it worked too until...”

  “Until I escaped.”

  Shitoro lowered his gaze and nodded. “That is why I was sent. It wasn’t so much the sword as you. Lady Midnite wishes you to return safely before the others learn of your existence. Powerful as she is, even she might not be able to protect you from her siblings if they discover what you are.”

  “You say this like her family are uncivilized animals,” Tamiko pointed out.

  “The daimao are ancient and powerful, true,” Shitoro said in a soft voice, barely audible. “But some are not as civilized as others. They are the true threat. And there is one in particular,
a loathsome creature that fancies himself a warrior god. It is heresy to even speak this way, but it is the truth. The celestial palace, indeed the multiverse itself, would be so much better off were Ichi...”

  “Jackpot!” Stephen cried.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “What?” Kisaki asked. She’d been busy processing what Shitoro was saying. She always wondered why her mother had kept her confined for so long, especially when her servants were free to come and go as they pleased. She’d secretly feared that her mother’s actions were the result of some shame she felt. But if what he said was true, then it was love, not shame, that drove her.

  But if so, how had Kisaki repaid that love? By putting herself in the very danger her mother sought to protect her from. If anything, it was she who should be ashamed.

  Kisaki had reached into her pocket – touching the last crystal she’d taken, the red one – and had been considering whether it was time to use it. Tamiko needed to go home, and it would give Shitoro a chance to find the crystal she’d knocked from his grasp. But then Stephen had spoken up.

  “I found them, pictures of my great-grandfather.” He paused for a moment, but then added, “Pictures of your dad.”

  All thoughts of shame were immediately forgotten as the group gathered around him. He was holding several black and white photographs, some of men in uniform, others of family life.

  “There. That’s him.” He pointed to one. “If I recall correctly, that was taken right after he was promoted to captain. That one was taken right before the war ended, so it couldn’t have been too long after he and your mother met.”

  “He was handsome,” Tamiko said. “I can see what your mom saw in him.”

  She was right, Kisaki considered. The man in the picture – tall, muscular, and with short blond hair – painted an appealing picture. There was something in his face, the cut of his jawline, the brightness of his eyes, his smile, all of it. It was almost mesmerizing. It bespoke of strength, but strength tempered by kindness – a warrior who knew the value of both power and mercy. Kisaki couldn’t help but smile.

  “Shitoro?” she asked.

  “It fits what I know of him. Quite the character ... for a human.”

  “I’ll say,” Tamiko said. She elbowed Stephen playfully. “I can see where you get it from.” Then, just as quickly, she added, “Not that I’m saying you’re good looking. Anything but, really. It’s just...”

  Stephen’s face was a mask of confusion at her sputtering, but he turned back to the album and flipped to another page. “This was an earlier picture of him at special forces training. I think he was an army ranger.”

  Again, her father was in uniform, albeit it appeared a more casual, more functional outfit than what he wore in the first. He...

  Her eyes locked onto the photo, but not on him. One of the other men in it, a man standing next to her father, their arms around each other. He looked oddly familiar. Though she couldn’t quite place where, she could have sworn she’d seen him somewhere.

  Before she could dwell on it, though, Stephen handed her another. “Here he is after the war. That’s my great-grandmother with him and she’s holding my granddad.”

  “Your half-brother,” Tamiko said.

  “My...” Kisaki paused. She hadn’t considered that. And hadn’t Stephen mentioned additional brothers as well? Her father was beyond her reach, but what about the possibility of meeting siblings she never knew existed? “Is he...” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the rest of the sentence.

  “Alive? Grandad? Yeah. He retired down to Florida, but he comes up for the holidays. Doesn’t stay long. Claims it’s too cold.”

  “So, I could maybe meet him?”

  Stephen seemed to consider this. “Yeah, I guess you could. Expect him to be a bit freaked out, though. Finding out you have an older sister who looks almost sixty years younger than you might be a bit weird for anyone.”

  Kisaki smiled. “Perhaps one day...”

  Shitoro shook his head. “Out of the question. Were you not listening to what I just said? This is no mere outing for a picnic. We need to get you back home before...”

  There came a hollow thud from somewhere above them.

  “What was that?” Tamiko asked.

  “I don’t know,” Stephen said. “Sounds like a bird hit the roof.”

  Shitoro coughed dismissively, then opened his mouth, no doubt to keep reminding Kisaki of what was expected of her, when there came another thud, this one louder.

  “Okay, make that a really big bird.”

  A third impact hit the home, one which seemed to rattle the rafters around them. Then howls rose up from outside, as if coming from multiple beasts.

  “What the hell?” Tamiko asked.

  “Sounds like ... wolves,” Stephen said, “but that can’t be.”

  Shitoro cocked his head to the side, his ears twitching as he listened. When he looked up again, his eyes were wide with panic. “Oh no.”

  “What is it?” Kisaki asked.

  He grabbed hold of her by the arms. “Those are not mere wolves. I can hear their voices carrying in their cries. Those are youkai. Somehow they’ve found us!”

  27

  “Are you sure? Maybe something is just setting off the dogs in the neighborhood,” Stephen said, as he followed Shitoro down the stairs.

  “Dogs do not relay complex ambush strategies to one another,” he replied over his shoulder.

  “Strategies? I didn’t hear anything except...”

  “Nor would you,” Shitoro snapped from the bottom of the stairs, “because you do not have these.” He pointed to his ears. “I do, however, and they are telling me we are in grave danger. Follow me, before it’s too late.”

  Shitoro ran for the front door, transforming into his tiger form as he did so. Kisaki was on his heels, followed by Tamiko and Stephen.

  The little youkai abruptly skidded to a halt in front of the door, then looked back expectantly at the others.

  “Let me guess,” Tamiko said. “Forgot the value of opposable thumbs for a minute there?”

  Shitoro fired back his best withering glare, but Kisaki was already pushing the door open.

  “Quickly,” Shitoro said, “before they have us...”

  The words died in his throat as the group stepped onto the front porch.

  Before them, standing in the street in front of the house, was a trio of large, muscular wolves. Just behind them stood a massive black bear. Two large hawks circled close to the ground in the sky above them.

  Kisaki took it all in, noting that their formation was too deliberate to be the work of mere animals. The sound of doors being opened registered in her ears and she glanced around to see Stephen’s neighbors peeking out of their doors.

  “So much for this being a subtle getaway,” Tamiko said from behind her.

  “Stand back,” Shitoro growled. “I’ll carve a path through these mongrels for us to escape.”

  “Mongrels?” the largest of the wolves asked, erasing any doubt whatsoever of their demonic origin. “Big talk for such a small kitty.”

  “I’ll help you,” Kisaki said, worried for her diminutive guardian. Large in spirit he might be, but, tiger or not, she was doubtful he’d be a match for the youkai in front of them.

  She realized she should have been scared, and for a moment she was, but in the back of her mind, that cold logic began to stir again. Besides, her mother was a daimao. She wouldn’t be worthy of her lineage if all it took were a few mangy-looking youkai to send her running. “Tamiko, Stephen, get back. Lock the doors and stay inside until we say so.”

  “I ... think that’s a good idea,” Tamiko replied uncertainly, backing up.

  “Wait up,” Stephen said. “My dad keeps a shotgun in his closet, and I know the combo for the safe where he keeps the ammo.”

  “Shotgun?” Kisaki asked idly, but he was already on the move.

  “Come on, Kisaki!” Tami
ko pleaded. “You get in here, too.”

  Kisaki was rooted to the spot, though, because Stephen wasn’t the only one on the move. With a snarl of anger, Shitoro raced forward toward the wolves.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Shitoro leapt, claws bared, at the wolf who’d spoken ... and was subsequently swatted aside like he was nothing.

  “This is what we were paid for?” the wolf asked. “Pathetic. Easy prey.”

  “More meat for us,” the bear said from behind him. “This just works up an appetite.” It stood up on its hind legs and transformed. In its humanoid form, the ursine youkai stood over six feet tall. Though he retained a bear’s head and claws, the rest of his body took on the appearance of a hairy, muscular human.

  The large wolf, probably the pack leader, was next to change. He was more human in appearance than the bear, smaller and leaner – his extra-long canines and slightly pointed ears being the only indication of his inhuman nature.

  He stepped up and sniffed the air. “A hanyou,” he said after a moment, a slight twang to his voice. “Now this is interesting. Never ate one of those before.”

  “I hear they taste terrible,” the bear said.

  “Only one way to find out, Orsen good buddy,” the wolf leader replied with a toothy grin. He raced forward, his hands clenched into fists. He was dreadfully fast, far faster than Kisaki expected, and for a moment, she felt fear welling up in the pit of her stomach.

  But then, just before he reached the front porch, once more the world seemed to slow down around her.

  Tamiko cried out from behind her, but her voice seemed to echo as if from afar. “Kiiiissssaaakkkkiiiiiii!”

  As before, Kisaki’s vision blurred. It was as if a ghost image superimposed itself over the wolf racing toward her, then it solidified and she was elsewhere. Rather than a wolf youkai, she saw humans in uniform charging toward her. They had dark hair and their facial features vaguely resembled Mr. Yoshida’s. They appeared to be screaming a battle cry, although she heard nothing. Her hands came up ... again, larger than they should have been ... holding a weapon of sorts. The object jerked in her hands and one of the enemy soldiers fell to the ground. Again, and another toppled over. There were too many of them, though, and they swarmed her.