Ghosts and Grudges: a Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy (The Shaman Queen's Harem Book 1)

by Jasmine Walt

  It took us several hours to reach Ryujin’s palace, and I spent most of that time flat on my back on the turtle shell, catching up on some much needed sleep. Yes, I know the idea of sleeping underwater while surrounded by amazing undersea sights sounds a bit crazy. Believe me, I spent the better part of the first hour gawking at all the fish and animals. It wasn’t every day that you got to fly past a humpback whale and her calf, or watch a great white shark chase a sea lion.

  But those exciting moments were interspersed with long stretches of nothing but kelp forests and schools of fish, and there was only so much of that a girl could take. I needed my beauty sleep if I was going to go toe to toe with a dragon god. And seeing as how Raiden had passed out as well, it stood to reason there was no harm in taking a deep sea nap.

  “Hey, guys,” Shota said next to my ear, interrupting a very nice dream in which I was receiving my diploma from medical school. “Wake up. We’re approaching the palace now.”

  I groaned, stirring a little. As I did, I immediately became aware that two warm bodies were pressed up on either side of me. Tensing, I opened my eyes and sat up slowly. Sure enough, both men had cozied up to me while I was sleeping. Shota was sitting up on my left, his eyes gleaming as he stared straight ahead at whatever had caught his attention. Raiden was on my right, sleeping like the dead. Both of their bodies were pressed up against mine, and my cheeks blazed as I realized I’d probably snuggled up with them unconsciously for warmth. The Umigame’s shield protected us against the worst of the cold, but there was still a distinct chill down here.

  “Look ahead,” Shota said, shifting his gaze and grinning down at me. “You won’t believe your eyes.”

  Groaning, I pushed myself up to see what the big fuss was about. And gasped. Off in the distance, perched atop what looked like an undersea volcano, was an immense palace constructed of pink coral and sea glass. It glittered as though it was encrusted with jewels, and as we grew closer, I realized it was encrusted…with something. Fish scales, maybe? We were still too far off to tell. A towering gate of stalactite-shaped coral surrounded the palace, and stationed around it were…

  “Are those jellyfish?” Raiden asked, looking over my shoulder at the palace. I’d been so caught up by the splendor of the palace, I hadn’t noticed him sit up. “Holy shit, this place looks like something straight out of The Little Mermaid.”

  “Do not let Ryujin hear you say that,” the Umigame warned, a hint of amusement in its deep voice. “He finds the insinuation quite offensive, as he built his palace long before Hans Christian Andersen was ever born.”

  I blinked. “You know who Hans Christian Andersen is?”

  “I may be old, but I am not senile,” the turtle said, sounding a bit miffed. “The ocean currents bring more news than you might think.”

  “Of course,” Shota said, his voice soothing. “And you guys end up with all the books and treasure that are lost at sea, too. You probably know a lot about what goes on above the surface.”

  “Yes, and the sea birds bring us news too. We are very well informed.”

  Well that’ll teach me to make assumptions, I thought to myself as the Umigame pulled up a few feet away from the front gates. The jellyfish guards shifted, their tentacles wrapping tightly around their spears, and I tried not to notice the crackling energy that clung to said tentacles. I had no doubt that if those guards decided to turn us into shark bait, our odds of survival were not good.

  “Thank you very much,” I said to the turtle, swimming off his back. I knew, logically, that the water pressure should be crushing me at this depth, and yet, I swam through the water as easily as if I were in a kiddie pool. Even though it made me nervous, I approached the sea turtle’s great head, then leaned my body against it in a sort of half-hug. “I know you are powerful enough that you didn’t have to help us.”

  The sea turtle chuckled again. “It has been many a century since a human last rode atop my shell.” He nudged me with his head, and I floated back a few feet, not sure if he was nuzzling me or trying to push me away. “Good luck with your audience with Ryujin. I will await your call again.”

  Raiden and Shota swam to my side, and we watched the sea turtle swim away. I marveled at how fast he sliced through the currents, reducing his huge form to a mere spec in the distance in a matter of seconds.

  “That was really something,” Raiden murmured.

  “Yeah. And we’re only just getting started.” Shota rubbed his hands together.

  As one, we turned to face the jellyfish guards. They stood silent, waiting, and I swallowed, trying to figure out where to look at them. They didn’t seem to have eyes, as far as I could tell, or even mouths. Could they talk?

  “Speak, human,” the one on the right said, and I started. Like the Umigame, its voice was disembodied, and yet somehow I knew that it had spoken rather than its partner. “What is your business here at the Dragon Palace?”

  “We are here to see Ryujin,” I said. “We have important business to discuss with him.”

  “And what business is that?”

  The three of us exchanged looks. “It would be best if we discussed that with him directly,” Raiden said.

  The two guards shifted. “Ryujin does not grant an audience to just anyone,” the second guard said. “Is he expecting you?”

  “Well, no,” Raiden admitted. “But we’ve come a long way just to see him. Don’t you think he’d at least be a little interested to hear why we’ve gone through all this trouble?”

  “Nobu,” a melodic voice drifted through the waves, and the guards turned. My mouth dropped open at the sight of a ningyo—a Japanese mermaid—swimming out toward us from one of the coral towers. Her lower half wasn’t exactly what I envisioned in a mermaid—instead of one long tail, she had three, covered in persimmon-colored scales and tipped with long, translucent fins. Her upper half was completely bare, with flawless alabaster skin and high, perky breasts that were partially covered by the thick mass of black hair that flowed from the top of her head in waves around her. And though her face was beautiful, she had shimmering orange horns curling from the top of her head, and some kind of strange burnt orange tattoo slashed across both of her high cheekbones.

  “Who are these humans?” she asked, curiosity gleaming in her iridescent eyes as she looked us over. Her ruby lips curved into a smile, exposing sharp fangs, and a shiver crawled down my spine. “They look tasty.”

  Raiden stepped forward, his stance wary. “I am Takaoka Raiden,” he said, and the three of us bowed. “These are my friends, Shota and Aika. We came here to speak to Ryujin. Can you take us to him?”

  The ningyo fluttered her eyelashes at Raiden. “That depends. What can you offer me in return?” She licked her lips seductively, and I felt a sudden flash of jealousy at the way she was looking at Raiden. But slapping the ningyo in her pretty, albeit fanged, face wasn’t going to get us anywhere.

  “Please,” I said, stepping in front of Raiden before he could respond. “An evil shaman named Kai has taken my mother prisoner. We are trying to get her back, and we think Ryujin might be able to help, if only we could talk to him. Isn’t there any way we can gain an audience with him?”

  The flirty smile vanished from the ningyo’s face, replaced by a sympathetic look that made me hate her a lot less. “Well why didn’t you say so?” She tossed a skein of hair over her left shoulder, exposing one of her nipples. Shota made a choking sound behind me, and Raiden coughed. “Of course I’ll take you to see him. Kai’s escape is the most exciting thing we’ve heard about in centuries, and my father is bored to tears. He’ll be happy to talk to you.”

  She waved at the guards to open the gates, then turned around and floated through them as if she hadn’t just flashed all of us. I glanced sidelong at Raiden as we followed. His cheeks had reddened, though he wore his default stoic expression, and I wasn’t sure if I should be amused or annoyed.

  And what do you have to be annoyed about, anyway? I chided myself. He’s a man.
I’m sure his cheeks would turn just as red if you lifted up your shirt and flashed him right now.

  My face flooded with embarrassment at the idea, and that was when Raiden turned to look at me. “What are you blushing about?” he asked, arching a brow.

  I lifted my chin. “I could ask you the same question.”

  Raiden rolled his eyes. “Come on. At least I didn’t suck in a lungful of water like someone else we know.” He jerked a thumb toward Shota.

  “What?” Shota asked defensively. “Fish are kind of my specialty, in case you haven’t noticed. It’s not every day you get to see a mermaid in the flesh.” He eyed the ningyo’s retreating back. “That’s one fish I won’t be taking out my sushi knife for,” he muttered, and I choked back a laugh.

  “My name is Amabie, by the way,” the ningyo said as the palace doors swung open, revealing a hallway made of crystal that glowed with phosphorescent blue algae. Red, purple, and gold coral ran through the crystal floor, making it seem like we were literally walking across a reef as we entered. “My apologies for not introducing myself earlier—it’s been too long since we’ve had human visitors.” She flashed a fanged grin over her shoulder at Shota, whose eyes went wide.

  “Amabie?” Shota echoed faintly. “As in Amabie of the Harvest?”

  “The very same.” She laughed at the astonished look on his face, and the sound was magical, like a faerie running her fingers over the strings of an enchanted harp. My mind suddenly filled with memories of sunny days at the park and hot summer evenings lying in the sand and watching the sunset. “I was only joking when I said you all looked tasty earlier—I don’t eat humans. Although I’d be willing to taste that one,” she added, licking her lips as she looked at Raiden.

  “I’d appreciate it if you could keep your fins to yourself,” I said in an acid tone, putting myself in front of Raiden. Amabie’s blatant interest in him was getting my back up, though I wasn’t sure why. After all, it wasn’t as if I owned him, right? And besides, what kind of person did that make me, getting possessive over Raiden when I was still struggling with the feelings I had for Shota?

  The last thing you should be thinking about are romantic relationships, Aika.

  Amabie raised her eyebrows at me. “As you wish,” she said, throwing a flirty glance toward Shota. “That one is cuter, anyway.” She winked, drawing closer to him. “You look like you could handle a girl like me.”

  Shota laughed. “Trust me, you don’t want to get anywhere near me,” he said. “I’m a sushi chef by trade.”

  “I love sashimi,” she purred, running a hand down his arm. I gritted my teeth as jealousy flared in me. “You should cook for me sometime.”

  There was a beat of silence, and for a second, I thought Shota was going to flirt back. But instead, he looped his arm through mine and pulled me close.

  “Sorry,” he said easily, ignoring Raiden’s glare. “There’s only one woman I cook for these days, and I don’t think she’s up for sharing.”

  Amabie huffed, then turned around, her tails flicking a spray of bubbles in our faces. “Your loss,” she said haughtily.

  I glanced down at Shota’s and my intertwined arms as we followed Amabie through the palace. Raiden didn’t look pleased to see the two of us holding hands, and once again, I felt like a disloyal bitch. I wished I could talk to them about what was going on between us, because it was obvious that there were some strong feelings brewing, and yet none of us wanted to acknowledge what was happening.

  But we had more important things to think about, and now was not the time for this conversation. Unable to handle the growing tension between the three of us, I pulled away from Shota and focused on our surroundings.

  Opalescent sea shells decorated the walls, and above, more golden coral snaked across the ceiling like a series of chandeliers. Instead of having lights attached, iridescent fish flitted amongst them, casting glittering light every color of the rainbow across the coral-laden crystal floor. Even that was different here, though, because instead of stretching out like spider webs through the crystal as it had in the floor outside, it writhed beneath our feet like pink sea anemones.

  “So what’s the big deal about Amabie?” I asked Raiden in a low voice, leaning in close enough so only he could hear.

  “Legend has it that she appeared on the coast of a small, struggling town during the Edo period and predicted six years of good harvest,” Raiden said as we were led down a hall that forked off to the left. This one was different from the last, and I felt like we’d stepped into a latticework of blue coral that stretched up all around us like a living gazebo. “She told the townsfolk that if disease spread, to show a picture of her to the afflicted, and they would be cured.”

  “And did they have a six-year harvest?”

  Raiden nodded. “They were one of the wealthiest towns in the country for those next six years. So wealthy, in fact, that they drew the attention of the emperor himself. No one died of sickness during those years, at least until the original painting of Amabie, painted by the town potter, was burned by a vindictive competitor who was jealous of the potter’s success. The town succumbed to sickness not long after that, and over half the people were wiped out before they abandoned it to start over somewhere else. It’s a ghost town now,” Raiden said sadly.

  “That’s terrible,” I murmured, filled with sadness for the townsfolk and their fate. How awful must it be to have such wealth and prosperity, only to have it taken from you because of one man’s jealousy?

  “The human who did that is burning in hell now,” Amabie said, her melodious voice turning dark with anger. She stopped in front of a pair of huge double doors and turned to look back at us, a fierce grin on her face. “As do all who cross a ningyo. Our curses are very powerful.”

  The three of us exchanged nervous looks as Amabie threw the doors open. “Father,” she sang cheerfully, sailing into the room as if she hadn’t half-threatened us a second ago. “We have visitors!”

  “Not now,” Ryujin snapped, waving a clawed hand. “I’m on the phone.”

  The three of us stopped short at the sight of him—he was gigantic, at least thirty feet long, and his upper body towered over us a good fifteen feet in the air. His sinuous form was covered in scales of every color blue I could think of, and even a few I’d never seen. They shimmered in the light filtering in through the translucent glass skylight above. His yellow, reptilian eyes crackled with annoyance as he held an enormous conch shell to his ear.

  “Uhh…is he talking into that thing?” I whispered to Raiden.

  “It looks like it, doesn’t it?” he whispered back, his eyes glued to Ryujin. His face had gone white, and his expression was numb, as if shock had turned him to stone. I couldn’t blame him—I’d seen some strange things in the last twenty-four hours, but a gigantic undersea dragon definitely took the cake.

  “Tell International Oil they can take that ridiculous counter-offer and shove it up their asses,” Ryujin snarled, exposing yellow fangs that were the size of Raiden’s arm, and three times as thick. “Two-hundred million is my final offer.”

  Amabie flicked her tails in annoyance. “He’ll be off the phone soon,” she told us, as if it were normal for a thirty-foot-tall dragon to have phone conversations using a conch shell. “My father’s a day trader, so he’s always got his ear glued to that stupid conch shell.”

  “A day trader?” Raiden asked, sounding as incredulous as I felt. “Your father is in the stock market?”

  Amabie flashed another one of her fanged smiles. “He specializes in hostile takeovers. Specifically, he goes after corporations that pollute the oceans.”

  “Look, I don’t give a damn about how much they’ve improved their safeguards or what they’re being valued at,” the dragon snarled, leaning backward as he slashed angrily at the air like he was attacking the person on the other end of the phone. “The last time they put a boat in the bay, they spilled oil all over it.” His voice turned soft and deadly, which was even w
orse than when he’d been yelling. “And don’t think I don’t know about how that reactor is still leaking into the bay. I don’t give a damn what the scientists say about it; I can prove it.” His voice got even quieter. “And I have this friend in the media…”

  A self-satisfied smile spread across his face, exposing far too many teeth. “Why yes, I do think my offer is quite generous, given the circumstances. I’ll have the contracts sent over. And tell them to stop dumping those barrels of chemicals in the bay. My people are getting tired of filming them.”

  Ryujin put the conch shell down on an enormous rock shelf sticking out of the wall and blew a disgusted sigh out of his nostrils. “What is it you want, daughter?” he asked, turning his great head toward us. “You know better than to walk in…” He trailed off, his eyes widening with surprise as he finally noticed us. “And who are these?” he demanded, lowering his neck so that his head hovered right in front of us. It was a lot bigger up close than it had been fifteen feet up, and I resisted the temptation to step away even though my knees were knocking together.

  “They’re shamans, visiting from the surface,” Amabie said, swishing one of her tails toward us in introduction. We immediately sank into low bows. “They say they’ve come seeking your counsel.”

  “It has been a long time since a shaman has dared visit my domain,” Ryujin rumbled. A rush of bubbles rippled over us as he spoke, and I flinched. “Rise, humans,” he commanded imperiously. My spine immediately jerked upright, as if of its own accord, and from the way the guys started next to me, I knew they’d done the same. A shiver crawled down my spine at the power in Ryujin’s voice—could he control us with his words?

  His yellow gaze swept over us again, assessing, then lingered on me. “A yokai shaman,” he said, his voice lightening with wonder. “It has been even longer since I have last seen one of your kind. Where did you come from?”

  “Umm. San Francisco.” I shifted nervously as I spoke. Ryujin was eyeing me as if I were an exciting new treasure he’d found, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. “How do you know I’m a yokai shaman?”