Destiny's Child (Kitsune series Book 3)

by Blayde, Morgan

  “It’s Grace. You can call me Grace.”

  Yes, Mistress.

  It’s over already? Tukka asked.

  I felt a sudden queasiness. Unseen, alien dimensions collapsed inside me in a place the monster-ghost never managed to reach. Folded space became unfolded. Golden light sprang from my body, creating a firestorm just under the cavern roof, as the soul of this world returned to her place. A woman’s face formed in the light. Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. The force of her attention created a heavy mental silence—a silence she broke, I won’t thank you for what you have done…

  I shrugged. Bitch.

  She went on: But I will reward you—with a warning.

  Wocky laughed and nudged Tukka in the side. “Warnings can’t buy chocolate, eh, fu dog?”

  Tukka’s head jerked toward the demon, and his jaws snapped shut on empty air as Wocky hopped out of range.

  I arched an eyebrow. “A warning of what?”

  Honor is often trumped by necessity.

  “Which means what?” I asked.

  You’ll figure it out. With that, the planetary lifeforce rose into the cavern roof. She turned the rock into a heavy vein of gold in her wake. As the last of the golden light vanished, the gloom rushed in, relieved only by the weird green light of Wocky’s floating ball, Argent’s luminous silver fur, and Tukka’s lavender eyes.

  Tukka came and stood next to me. I used him to climb onto my feet. Argent swung his head under me, lifting me onto Tukka’s back. I sprawled there, wearily hanging on as Tukka carried me away. We go home now, he said.

  “Fine by me,” Wocky said.

  You not invited, Tukka said.

  “I’ve never let such a little thing stop me,” Wocky said. “Besides, I suspect a last twist is coming in Grace’s plot.”

  I muttered, “Oh, there are a lot of twists coming. I’ll soon have one for you.”

  “Really? I can’t wait.” The demon stomped along behind Tukka. Argent hurried up beside Tukka. Nobody wanted the necessary evil of Wocky’s company, but I needed him to hang around until the little matter of the demon brand was settled. For that, I had an appointment for Inari.

  “Tukka?” I said.

  Eh?

  “Take me to Shaun’s.”

  Fenn won’t like that, but Tukka do it.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Wocky’s voice dripped with mock sympathy. “How sad.”

  We crossed over together. Our auras appeared, as gravity slacked and a tingle passed through. Flecked with orange, my aura was otherwise a muddy chocolate color only Tukka could have appreciated.

  Argent looked at me and winced. Your aura in badly damaged.

  A trade off for the strength I’d needed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  It could kill you, Argent said.

  Tukka not let that happen.

  I heard clacking as Wocky loosened the folds of his wings. “Give yourself to me, Grace. My black flame can replace your aura. You won’t be a natural demon, but will come close enough to survive.”

  Death is better, Argent said, cleaner.

  Tukka growled at them, and did something I didn’t quite follow at first. Argent and Wocky vanished. The cavern vanished. We were suddenly in a swarm of ghosts, but these weren’t humanoid. Like the ghosts of dolphins, they fluked past us, swimming in air, their sleek bodies radiating a celestial blue glow that cheered me. The only difference they had from Earth’s dolphins seemed to be a third eye, and a couple tentacles attached to their lower bodies. They circled several times before losing interest and zipping off for parts unknown.

  We were in another ghost realm, one that didn’t belong to the Hysane world. Tukka shifted us several more times. Some of the new landscapes were strangely beautiful, others simply strange. Eventually, we crossed to a ghost realm I recognized. I saw the dojo where Shaun taught martial arts. Overhead, Chinese lanterns swung in the wind. We made a final cross over. Gravity and the natural winter-drab colors sprang to greet us. The sun sat near zenith; it was somewhat close to noon. I slid off of Tukka’s back, relieved to no longer see my damaged aura. As I tottered toward the dojo’s wrap-around deck, Tukka started to follow. I lifted a hand. “No, I need you to go get Cassie. Fast. You can’t help me by staying.”

  Demon might come. Might force you to accept his offer.

  “I’m betting Inari will find me first.”

  Betting your life.

  “Michiko will look after me.”

  Tukka not see her. Maybe ghost girl is asleep.

  Michiko faded in, wearing low-rider jeans, a crop-top, and sandals—making no allowance for the season. Her dark eyes were grave as she studied me. “Oh, my, what have you done to yourself?”

  “Long story.” I reached the stairs up to the deck and sat on them, leaning back on my elbows. “Go, Tukka, hurry.”

  Tukka run like wind.

  “I hope so.”

  He crossed back to the ghost realm, and I was alone with Michiko. I looked her in the eyes. “We’re friends, right?”

  Michiko put her fists on her hips. “Best friends forever.”

  “If things go really bad for me, I need you to do something.”

  “Sure, what?”

  I smiled a crooked smile as I filled her in on my latest master plan.

  Michiko’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Damn! Talk about screwing with your karma.”

  “If you don’t want to do it, I understand.”

  Michiko’s eyes went even harder, blazing bright emerald. “No, I’ve got this. You came to the right person. Give me a minute and to get ready.” She faded out, moving invisibly on the errand I’d set her.

  My fingers were numb, my feet, too. My breath was growing more and more strenuous. My heart pounded in distress. A preternatural kind of toxic shock was taking effect. I’d been through something like this once before. That didn’t make it less scary. Inside my head, my other selves were still, silent, and intensely focused. I hoped we’d all have some kind of a future together.

  Time would tell.

  I smelled fresh turned earth, the scent of hey, and berries fermenting on the branch. The dry and pale winter grass in the backyard blazed into a bright, lush green, visibly growing several more inches. A white storm of cabbage butterflies swirled past me in a joyous dance.

  Inari’s here.

  THIRTY-NINE

  The right to survive is the right to kill.

  For this purpose we all have

  a predator buried deep within.

  —Journal entry

  Grace Kenyon

  Inari was dressed differently this time. Her soft robes were still there, but lacquered, bamboo armor overlaid them, tied in place with leather thongs. Her face was concealed by a theatrical mask, a white fox face with red highlighting around the eye holes. Crossed and stashed in the front of her jade sash were two dainty hand sickles for cutting grain. More than just an earth spirit, she was now the embodiment of a goddess of the harvest.

  That added confirmation to my suspicions. She’d not told me the secret I wanted from her, insisting on waiting for the outcome of events. Had I died trying to cleanse the Hysane world of spiritual poisoning, she’d have had no need to share such knowledge. Frugal and Zen. I kind of admired that. I didn’t, however, believe that she’d been helpless against the monster-ghost—needing me to step in. She’d expressed concern about my choice of destinies. I think she’d been halfway hoping I’d get myself killed, solving everything. Certainly, there was no warm welcome in her eyes now.

  She stopped in front of me, her two pony-sized silver foxes at her side. They were dressed for war as well; rounded armor plates linked together were tied onto their backs. Little curls of orange-red foxfire fluttered at their ankles. I noticed their paws didn’t quite touch the ground. They looked at me hungrily, the way predators study prey.

  “You seem to be in some difficulty,” Inari said.

  “I have great expectations of recovering,” I said.

 
“Yes, well, is that really for the best?”

  “You owe me a secret,” I said.

  “That is true, but it can do you no good since I am here to harvest you.”

  “Tell me anyway. I earned it. How does one remove a demon brand?”

  She knelt, bringing her head level to my own so I didn’t have to strain looking up. She said, “I have no ill will towards you. If it will ease your passing, I will tell you what you want to know.”

  I clutched my stomach through a series of spasms.

  Inari waited, acting as if my pain were a fascinating thing. When the attack passed, she used a silk kerchief to blot sweat from my forehead. “It is unfortunate you turned a deaf ear to my offer of turning you into a celestial fox. This moment might have been avoided.”

  Yeah, and now you’re forced to kill me, aren’t you? I remembered what the Hysane world’s soul had said: Honor is often trumped by necessity. Inari thought my death was necessary. She’d probably sleep quite well with me on the way to the morgue.

  I said, “Just tell me, already.” The demon mark on my back was burning. Wocky was homing in on me. Time was running out.

  She shrugged. “The power is already yours. You are kitsune, a dream-walker. Make the brand into a dream, and it is in your power.”

  “Ah, so simple.”

  Inari smiled at me, easing one of her hand sickles out of her sash. “As simple as life and death. I will make this mercifully quick, child, so you will not suffer.”

  “Hey, I like suffering.” I thought of Scotty, my mouse-whispering guardian angel. “I’m told it builds character.”

  Inari raised the sickle over her head, about to bring it slicing down into my heart.

  Her body jerked. Her hand froze in place above her head. Several feet of gleaming steel protruded from her chest. Michiko’s timing was perfect. She’d materialized and stabbed, using the sword of a god to kill a goddess. Ghost-girl yanked out the sword, spun, and slashing at one of the the white foxes. Her sword lopped a fox’s head off. It bounced and rolled away as the body collapsed. The other fox failed to reach her as Wocky arrived in the nick of time. He reached out and snagged the fox midair, pulling him in. Wocky’s jaw unhinged and fell open to an impossible degree. Sharp fangs were revealed as well as a writhing tongue that was no longer a stub, having somehow been regenerated by the demon.

  Wocky inserted the fox’s head, biting it off with a loud chomp. Blood sprayed. Wocky held the neck up, tilting it so fresh blood gushed down his throat. As the heart of the fox stopped beating, the blood slacked off. Wocky tossed the drained body away, handling the pony-sized creature as easily as if it had been a child’s stuffed toy.

  Inari remained on her feet as her body sunk in on itself, shedding the armor. Her robes rotted in rapid decay. Her flesh reddened and then grayed, wrinkling, acquiring a curious grain as her youth eroded away in desiccation. Her hair grew down her back, a weave of vines. It was then I noticed she still stood because her toes had splayed and curved downward, growing into the soil like roots. Soon, all that was left of her was a rather ugly tree.

  Wocky turned his attention to me, stepping closer.

  But Michiko vanished from her old position, reappearing in his way. The Sword of Heaven shimmered with divine energy as she poked it at him. With her back to me, I couldn’t see her expression, but I heard a smile in the tone of her voice, “I wouldn’t, demon-moth. Remember what this sword did to you last time?”

  He offered her a savage smile. “One doesn’t easily forget one’s heart being sliced in two.” He looked past her, at me. “Grace, tell her this is what you need. I’m the last hope you have of living.”

  I used the last of my hoarded strength, and the railing besides the steps, and fought to my feet. I tottered up to Michiko, grabbing her shoulder from behind so I wouldn’t fall. The world was dipping in a most curious fashion, refusing to stay on level. I spoke softly to her, “Let me handle this.”

  She shot me a quick, sidelong glance as I drew up beside her. “Are you sure? You look like a rampaging kitten could bowl you over.”

  “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  She shrugged. “Fine, but remember, there are worse things than being dead.”

  “Such as?” Wocky asked.

  Michiko’s voice deepened, icing over, “Sometimes, not getting to die.”

  Wocky rolled his eyes. “I suppose you got that out of some prissy vampire movie.”

  “Bite me!” Michiko said.

  Wocky grinned, displaying blood-soaked teeth. “Any time.”

  “Cut it out, you two.” I moved toward Wocky, casually letting one of my hands sway toward Michiko’s sword. I ran a couple of fingers along the flat of her blade. At the same time, I used my kitsune leaching ability to sip a little of the sword’s mystical force. It hit my system like a runaway train, infusing me with a jump in strength and a burst of power that sang along my nerves. I reined in that intoxicating power, compressing it to small star in the depth of my inner shadows.

  I want that! My shadow side said.

  No, I answered, I need the energy to save us all.

  Afterwards I can have it? She asked.

  I smiled inwardly. We’ll see.

  I made a point of moving like I was still running on fumes, a breath or two from keeling over. I reached out for Wocky’s hand. “Let’s not do things here.”

  His eyes gleamed with triumph as he assumed I was giving in to him. “Where shall I take you?”

  “The far side of a perfect dream.” I smiled weakly. Nothing less can save me.

  He jerked me into his spindly arms. His black-star eyes blazed into mine. “Sleep,” he said.

  I yielded to lethargy, letting darkness claim me.

  * * *

  Darkness thinned to a woodland clearing carpeted with dull brown and red leaves. A pile of cut tree limbs lay to one side, a pile of brush. Dreaming, I sat on a tree stump. A winter wind that lacked chill—At least to me—lifted my dark red hair, wagging it like a banner of war. An orange-red sun was tangled low in the trees. Sunset wasn’t far away unless I changed things.

  This was my dream, my world, a time and place of my choosing. I stopped the dream in that moment before Wocky arrived. A time stop in the waking world would have utterly exhausted me, probably finishing me off. Here, I allowed no such inefficiency. Further, I made a short list of rules in my head, and willed them to materialize on a parchment scroll that popped into my hand. I dropped the scroll. It sank between two large roots, into the soil at my feet.

  Let my will become the law of the land: a perfect land in a perfect dream—I hope.

  In the imperfect, real world, a person without an aura is dead in some way: vamp, zombie, or a demon. Here, I decreed that the power of a storm god’s sword could replace my wounded aura, at least for a short while.

  If I’m wrong, I’ll wake up very dead. All or nothing, this is the last throw of the dice.

  I looked over to a cluster of hay bales. They were arranged to form a throne for a straw man in cast-off farmer’s clothes.

  All right, let’s get things rolling again.

  A hoot owl called out. The first star of the evening blazed to life in the dimming sky. And a few leaves that had been suspended mid-tumble began wheeling along once more with time turned back on.

  I watched the straw man’s clothing darkened to crisp, clean, black silk and denim; a dress shirt and jeans. Feet formed wearing glossy black boots. Hands came out of empty sleeves, wearing long-fingered leather gloves. The canvas with its crudely drawn charcoal face became human. The straw at the back of his head transmuted to hair. Button eyes sunk into wells of darkness, replaced by burning coals. The body filled out to more than human size. The former scarecrow stood up, leaving his seat. He strolled over, big, black, wings bursting into view from his back as the cloth there ripped loudly. The wings were also tattered, clacking out into a fanned display that should have been threatening, but wasn’t.

  I understoo
d that I had it in myself to be just as scary.

  “Grace.” He nodded a formal greeting.

  “Wocky.” I stood, moving back over the stump so it remained between us.

  “For the record,” he said, “I need you to state that you are binding yourself to me of your own free will, with no coercion on my part. Otherwise, it won’t take.”

  “Yeah, I Imagine God keeps you guys on short leash, metaphorically speaking, but there’s one problem with what you want—I’m not giving consent.”

  His flaming eyes narrowed. His body became still as a graveyard marker. “Then why are we here?”

  Pulling warm strength from my core—power borrowed from Michiko’s Sword of Heaven—I felt a resurge of vitality. I straightened my shoulders, drew a deep breath, and made a throwing gesture. My poisoned aura hung in the air between Wocky and me. I snapped my fingers, and the energy broke into fragments, becoming a foggy firefly swarm that blinked a sickly brownish-green.

  “Pretty,” Wocky said.

  I waved and the sick color fled. The swarm danced in an intricate pattern, blinking a healthy, tawny gold. I opened my arms and each bug ghosted into my chest, becoming pure aura inside me once again.

  One problem down and a demon brand left to take care of.

  I willed the top half of my clothing to vanish, leaving only a black sports bra for modesty’s sake.

  Wocky smiled a slow, crooked smile. “You want me to service you first? Afraid of dying a virgin? Good thing this is a dream, or I wouldn’t have functional equipment for the job.”

  Boy, are you getting your hopes up.

  I filled my hand with black shadow, willing it to harden and acquire a knife’s sharp edge. The shadow responded, becoming lethal obsidian. My smile matched his, teasing and predatory.

  Wocky’s rickety smile stayed in place, as he lifted an inquiring eyebrow. “What?” he said. “You like it rough? I can do rough.” His smile widened. “Where are the whips and chainsaws?”

  Because all’s fair in war and … well, war, I willed my pants away, leaving lace-trimmed bikini panties. Wocky’s eyes roved freely down my figure. There were delightful curves reflecting the maturing influence of my moth DNA. I had real boobs that made me feel a little top heavy since I usually had a rather flat chest. I slid a hand down my gently-rounded stomach, guiding his heated gaze, and ran my fingernails along the lacy waistband. In seduction mode, my voice went low and husky. “I’ve got something I want to show you.”