Mortality Bites - The COMPLETE Boxed Set (Books 1 - 10): An Urban Fantasy Epic Adventure

by Ramy Vance

  “Just Jean, pronounced John,” he said. “My starship’s in the shop.”

  He stuck out a hand. This time I was willing to take it, but before I could, the ground rumbled as six shisa and four more pairs of nio came crashing into the izakaya.

  “OK Jean,” I said, pronouncing it like jeans, “I don’t suppose you have more shotguns?”

  “No ma’am, I do not.”

  A TROUBLE OF GUARDIANS

  What do you call a bunch of stone guardians hell-bent on killing you? A quarry? A masonry? A landslide? I’d have to figure out the technical term for this gang of super badass statues later—if there was a later. Given how these guys came at us, I wasn’t so sure.

  The two cloak-wearing weirdo humans pointed at us as they continued their odd chant. Three shisa advanced, and Jean let out two shots that reduced them to rubble. I didn’t know how many bullets a shotgun could hold and started backing away from the izakaya’s front door.

  We needed to get out of there. Apparently Egya had already had that thought, because he yelled from the back room that there was a way out through the kitchen.

  None of us needed to be told twice, and Jean let out two more shots, taking down a nio as the three of us followed Egya out the back door that led into the alley.

  Now all we had to do was hope the guardians hadn’t surrounded the place.

  ↔

  NO GUARDIANS in the back alley. Thank the GoneGods for small miracles.

  What I wasn’t thanking the GoneGods for was imbuing these guys with supernatural speed. We’d hardly made it outside by the time the shisa were on our backs, running along the walls of the alley rather than on the actual ground.

  The nio guardians weren’t far behind, their heavy feet like thunder as they chased after us. We were dead, dead, dead unless we escaped. Or were saved by a miracle.

  Or both.

  Just as we were approaching the end of the alley, a car pulled up, driven by a woman wearing a black scarf over her face that kind of gave her a ninja vibe (not to stereotype or anything, but we were in Japan). She screamed, “Hayaku!”

  You didn’t have to speak Japanese to understand what she was saying: Hurry.

  ↔

  AS WE JUMPED into the back of her Honda Civic, I lamented that it wasn’t something with a bit more kick. Then the woman floored the accelerator and I felt my body pushed against the back of the seat. Seems that in a godless world, my prayers were answered: this car had been modified.

  It was fast.

  But so were the shisa. Two of them managed to jump in front of the car before she could pick up much speed. Not that she slowed down; she kept that foot hot on the accelerator.

  “Ahh,” I said, “they’re probably a couple tons of magically reinforced stone. I don’t think crashing into them is a good—”

  The shishas were just about upon us when she pulled the handbrake and screamed, “America-jin, to your left!”

  Jean didn’t need to be told twice. He cocked his shotgun and without bothering to open the window, blasted the two shisa with buckshot and glass. Both open-mouthed and closed-mouthed guardians went down in a hail of gravel and lead.

  Damn, he was a good shot.

  “I’m out,” he said in that way only those with a lot of training say.

  The driver hit the accelerator as she made a sharp turn. The path now clear, we started down the road until it dead-ended, then we turned left, then right, then left again.

  Each turn slow us down, but we were still going fast enough that we were gaining ground on the shisa and nio. Two more turns and we’d be on the main highway, where we’d lose them for sure.

  We turned left and I could see the main road just in front of us. One more turn and … shit!

  Two nio appeared at the T intersection. They must not have bothered to pursue us, figuring we’d eventually make our way out of this back-road maze and end up right here.

  Statues made of stone harder than diamond and clever. My luck was really on the wane today.

  The young woman slammed her car into reverse and started backing up, but now four shisa and a pair of nio were behind us, too.

  “Damn it,” I said. “You’re really out of bullets?”

  Jean was looking behind him at the six approaching golems. “I’m afraid ‘I’m out’ isn’t a euphemism for ‘I’ve got more.’ ”

  “And why don’t you have more?”

  “I had over twenty shells with me. On my night off …”

  I groaned. “Fine,” I said, “we’re just going to have to do this the hard way.”

  “And which way is that?”

  “Deirdre, remember when we watched Return of the Jedi and you loved how the rebels took down those walkers?”

  The changeling nodded.

  “Good.” I turned to the driver. “I saw a parking complex on the other side of Kokusai Dori. You know the one I’m talking about?”

  The driver nodded.

  “I’ll meet you at the exit.”

  And before anyone could say anything, I opened the door and jumped out.

  ↔

  GOLEMS AND GUARDIANS are the Terminators of the supernatural world. Which means they were programmed with a specific mission and weren’t ones for improvisation. And since the guardians were after me—or more specifically, my arm that was attached to me—I figured they would only hurt those who got in the way of what they wanted.

  As I ran across the road and into a small noodle shop, I had enough time to confirm that the guardians were all ignoring the Honda Civic and its occupants.

  They just wanted me.

  Sucks to be popular, I thought as I scanned the noodle house. It was empty save for the two cooks and a guy manning the register. “Ikite!” I cried out as I ran to the back.

  The register guy barely had time to register what was happening when the nio came crashing through. “Kowai,” he screamed as he hugged the wall farthest from where I was.

  Not that I stuck around to see what was happening. Instead, I ran through the back door and into another alley before slamming through another back door.

  And with every place I ran into, the damn guardians crashed through, causing thousands of dollars of damage, ruining livelihoods and just generally being inconsiderate to those around them.

  Soup bowls and chopsticks and tatami mats went flying. People screamed and ran. And the whole time, the statues didn’t make a peep except to thunder through the buildings like bulls in, well—

  Japanese shops. I had to say it, okay?

  But they didn’t hurt anyone. That privilege they were reserving for little old me.

  I busted through the front door of a human-run izakaya and onto Kokusai Dori. The street was full of cars and people who were probably thinking that they were out for a meal and a bit of shopping. From the way they scattered when the nio and shisa jumped on the road, they certainly weren’t expecting giant moving statues rampaging on the streets.

  Still, the scattering crowds provided some cover and as long as the guys didn’t have some kind of homing beacon or mythical-map-finding app, I could use them as cover.

  I ran inside another building, this one attached to the parking complex, and paused against a pillar to catch my breath. There was no way they could have tracked my movement in that crowd, so I was safe. At least, that was my hope. Peering out the window, I saw several nio looking back and forth down the road.

  Good—no mythical tracking device.

  Then the nio—Ungyo—looked right at me. And it wasn’t like he was looking around and happened to see me. No, he stopped looking back and forth and stared right at me like he knew exactly where I was the whole time.

  What the hell? I thought, not waiting for the guy to jump through the window. I heard the crash of stone and glass as I made my way to the back of the building and toward the parking lot. I needed to get to the complex’s entrance, where hopefully my friends would be waiting for me and—

  I felt a granite hand grab my should
er and push me to the side, sending my body flying until it hit the wall.

  I had just enough breath to climb to my feet and see two nio guardians approaching me, Agyo holding his diamond mace before him and that forever-open mouth promising nothing good.

  Oh joy.

  ↔

  SO THIS WAS how it would end? Being bludgeoned to death by a stone golem with an attitude? And to think, they’d go to all this trouble to kill me and I didn’t even know where the place they were guarding actually was. I mean, you’d think that they’d have extended the courtesy of at least letting me find the place before killing me.

  Not that any of that mattered. I was out of breath, out of strength and out of luck. All I had time for now was to consider whether or not to keep my eyes open or closed while they beat me into the linoleum floor, ruining some poor janitor’s day.

  “Open,” I muttered to myself. “I will face my death with eyes open.”

  I scowled at Agyo and Ungyo as they approached, using the wall as support to shuffle myself up to my feet. “So,” I said, “what’s it like being a mythical guardian?”

  Neither Agyo nor Ungyo’s expressions changed, the demon-like faces frozen open and closed. They were only a couple steps away, spreading out just enough so that if I tried to run to the left or right, they could easily catch me.

  I’d chased down enough victims as a vampire to know when running was pointless. I wasn’t going to run.

  And I wasn’t going to beg or cry or quiver in fear. I was going to meet my end as best I could.

  Weaponless, I gave them the finger. When they didn’t react to that, I dug into my pockets and pulled out some loose change and threw it at them. I knew it would have no effect, but if I was going to die, I was going to die fighting … as pointless as that fighting may be.

  I dug deeper into my pockets looking for a quarter or, if I was lucky, a twoonie to throw at them, but I was out of change. All I had left in my pocket was that stupid shell with the rune etched into it. The one that the futakuchi-onna left behind when I’d “stabbed” her with her own, invisible spear.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” I said and took careful aim, hitting Agyo right in his stupid open mouth as he lifted his vajra. “Come on!” I screamed. “Make it clean. Right here.” I pointed a finger at my forehead.

  But the Agyo didn’t bring his vajra down on my head. Instead he waved his hand like he was chasing away an invisible bee.

  I looked over at Ungyo, who was doing the same. First with one hand, then both, until they were both dancing in that way someone would do when consumed by a swarm of bees.

  There were no bees to speak of. There was nothing there. That didn’t stop the awkward dancing from growing more and more frantic. Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse (or an invisible swarm) in the mouth. I charged to the left and toward the entrance of the parking complex.

  Before I could get into the parking lot, I saw what looked like three children watching me run, their expressionless faces sad and distant.

  Three children who didn’t run when two giant golems showed up.

  Three children who were probably dead.

  I looked at them, then back at the nio guardians. They continued their dance, but where I hadn’t seen anything before, now I saw the statues surrounded by hundreds of mokumokuren, the floating eyeballs annoying them like any bee or wasp would when defending their hive.

  “What the—?” I started, then remembered the ghost kids. “I really should mind my language. Sorry.”

  ↔

  AFTER THAT, I managed to get to the entrance without encountering any more guardians. The driver and my friends were waiting for me. So was the American, Jean. I had hoped he’d break away when the heat was off him, but he was still sitting there, grinning away.

  Deirdre was waiting outside the car, the passenger side door open. “Milady,” she said as I jumped in.

  “Where are the golems?” Egya asked.

  “Dealing with a swam of eyeballs,” I said, happy to be sitting.

  “What?”

  “Later,” I said, closing my eyes. “Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath.”

  And that’s what I got. A few minutes while our savior drove toward the shore about thirty minutes away.

  ↔

  “SO, not that I’m not grateful, but who are you?” I said.

  The woman took a sharp turn over the road’s divide before turning into an alley barely wide enough for the car. Boy oh boy, this lady could drive. “Tomoko-san told me that the great Katrina Darling had arrived. I had to see it for myself. Of course, the guardians arrived before me and—”

  “Tomoko-san?”

  “Yes, the hostess at the izakaya. The onryo.”

  So that was why she’d scurried past us so quickly. She needed to tell this lady, whoever she was, that we were here. I really needed to work on my incognito skills.

  I took another couple deep breaths before turning to my savior and taking a good look at her for the first time. For her shape and size, I judged her to be a young woman in her early twenties. She had long black hair and big brown, captivating eyes.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “No,” she said, removing her scarf, “it is I who should thank you.”

  When I saw her face, my heart jumped in a way that I had only ever felt once before. How could this be? I wondered as I reached out a hand to touch her face. How could she be so young?

  My voice trembled as I called out her name. “Blue?”

  REUNIONS AND SOUL-BEATING MOMENTS

  “Y ou honor me,” the girl said with a refined English accent, like she had been tutored by Alfred or someone equally posh, “but I am not Blue. She is my grandmother, but the gods have blessed me with her strong appearance.”

  “Grandmother?”

  She nodded before bowing deeply, an awkward move given that she was still sitting on the driver’s side of the car. “I am Keiko Uehara and I offer you my gratitude for saving my grandmother, thus allowing me to be brought into this world.”

  “Ahh, grandmother,” Jean said. “Which means that you, not-so-young lady, are not human. Or maybe you’re one of those now-I’m-supernatural, now-I’m-not types. So what were you? A werewolf? Vampire? Zombie?”

  “Milady is no foul, flesh-eating zombie,” Deirdre said, jumping to my defense.

  “Well, excuse me,” Jean said, lathering his words with sarcasm.

  Sarcasm was always lost on Deirdre. “You are excused. This once,” she said very seriously.

  “So which one were you?”

  “There’s more than just werewolves and vampires,” Egya said, then sticking out a hand, added, “Former were-hyena.”

  “Were-hyena? I didn’t know weres came in hyena size.”

  “Actually, there are all kinds of weres.”

  “Apparently.” Jean lifted a hand. “Nice to meet you, Hyena.”

  “It’s Egya.”

  “Is that African for ‘hyena?’ ”

  “No, and that’s mildly racist.”

  “Not if Egya actually meant hyena,” Jean said, not missing a beat. “So milady, you were pretty handy with a sword back there, which means that you’re quite comfortable fighting in human form. So I’m going to go with vampire.”

  “The American wins the prize,” Egya said, still a bit sore about the hyena jibe.

  I ignored him, just as I had been ignoring the whole conversation. I just stared at Keiko, imagining that this was how Blue must have looked as a young woman. Then that got me thinking about how she must have looked as a teenager, middle-aged, pregnant. Holy guacamole, Blue was a grandmother, which meant she was a mother and …

  “I missed it all,” I said. And trying as I hard as I did, I still couldn’t hold back the tears that had threatened to escape since I’d seen this young woman’s face.

  “No, you just weren’t here for it all. But you were with us. Always.” She understood what I was feeling. And in order to do that,
her empathy had to be enormous.

  Just like Blue’s.

  ↔

  I GAVE Keiko a hug which turned into an embrace that probably lasted longer than what was socially acceptable for two people who’d just met—at least in Canadian, Scottish and Japanese culture.

  Apparently it was a bit too much for American culture, too, because Jean said, “Alright, ladies. Not to break up what I’m sure Egya and I are hoping will turn into kissing, but angry stone guardians. Somewhere behind us. Got to get somewhere safe.”

  Damn it, I thought. As much as I hate to admit it, this annoying American is right.

  “I’ll have you know that a lot of people find me charming,” he said.

  Thinking out loud again. I shook my head and finally let go of Keiko. “Thank you for saving us. As you can see, we’re in a wee bit of trouble, so if you could drop us off at our hotel and the American at wherever Americans go, we’ll be—”

  “No way,” Jean and Keiko said in unison.

  “Excuse me?”

  Jean was the first to speak, lifting his butt up enough to dig his wallet out of his back pocket. He tossed it to me and I opened it up, seeing his badge. “I can’t let you go, ma’am,” he said, his voice getting all authoritative. “You were attacked by several class-B and -C Others. Until we know what’s going on, I can’t permit you to leave. I’ll have to take you to base to continue our ongoing investigation.”

  Ongoing investigation my ass, I thought.

  Before I could answer, Keiko piped in, “We have been waiting for years for your return, Katu-san. My grandmother will kill me if I do not bring you to her. In addition, I owe you a blood debt. I shall aid you until we know that you are safe.”

  “First of all,” I said, pointing at Jean, “I’m not under your jurisdiction, so you can shove your investigation into the orifice near where you got this.” I tossed his badge back to him.

  “I’m afraid I can’t accept that,” he said.

  “Do you have magical powers?” I asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said, ‘do you have magical powers?’ ”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”