A Ranma 1/2 fanfic
All Ranma 1/2 characters are copyright Rumiko Takahashi
and are used without permission for non-profit entertainment purposes
only

This chapter is rated Lime for suggestive scenes.

Doors Best Left Unopened
Part 14: A Convergence of Forces

by Mark MacKinnon
 

     Tisa knew that Riana wasn't going to take the news well.  She
tried to keep her features expressionless, waiting as she'd been
instructed.
     Her gaze strayed to the bed, its rumpled covers taunting her.
They seemed to whisper of the intimate deeds that they had witnessed,
and Tisa was thankful that at least HE hadn't been present when she'd
arrived.  Keisuke was hard enough to tolerate as it was; seeing his
smug grin first thing in the morning would have been more than she
could bear.
     Finally, Riana emerged from the attached bathroom, and Tisa
felt her breath catch in her throat.  The sheer material of Riana's thin
silk robe clung to her curves enticingly, outlining her thighs as she
walked.  Her hair was a sensuous tangle, and her eyes were still lidded
from sleep.  Making her way over to Tisa, she held out one hand in a
lazy, imperious gesture that made Tisa's mouth go dry.
     Gods, Tisa thought with no little despair, whatever it would
take to make this woman want me, I would do.  In a heartbeat.
Wordlessly, she handed the steaming mug she held to her Lady.  Riana
cradled it carefully, letting the fragrant steam caress her face, then took
an appreciative sip.
     "Ahhhh," she sighed at last.  "At least you're civilized enough to
deliver bad news with coffee."  Tisa swallowed.
     "Bad news?" she asked carefully, wondering if Riana could
somehow have already found out.  Riana gave her a sly smile and
moved over to the bed with easy, feline grace.
     "My dear Tisa, you're not as hard to read as you think," she
said, her voice pleasantly husky.  "You woke me early, and you know I
hate that.  You brought coffee.  You're tapping your fingers against
your thigh."  Tisa realized she was, in fact, doing that and stopped,
embarrassed.  Riana sat on the edge of the bed, careless of the way her
robe pulled apart at the throat and thighs.
     "Therefore, bad news," Riana concluded, taking another sip of
coffee.  "And much as I hate to start the day that way, we might as well
get this over with.  Tell me."  Tisa pulled her gaze away from the
enticing gap in Riana's robe, meeting her Lady's gaze evenly.
     "It's the girl, Reiko Hisakawa.  The one that you had under
surveillance."  Riana just cocked her head.
     "What of her?"
     "She's gone."  Riana said nothing for a moment, and Tisa
pressed on.  "Apparently, the human operatives were only watching her
hotel, not following her ..."
     "Yes.  Those were my orders," Riana said absently.  Tisa
blinked.
     "Ah," she said.  "I mean ..."  Riana met her gaze again, raising
one eyebrow.
     "Your report?" she prompted.
     "Yesterday, she left the hotel around five.  When she returned,
after ten, she appeared to be hurt.  She was with a boy around her own
age.  He helped her to her room, leaving alone approximately twenty
minutes later.  Then, around five-thirty this morning, the girl checked out
suddenly.  Her present whereabouts are unknown."  Tisa waited for a
reaction to the news.
     "Well," Riana mused.  "That certainly didn't take long."
     "Lady?" Tisa asked, confused.  Riana set her mug on one of
the end tables by the bed and worked her head back and forth.
     "I seem to have a kink," she groaned.  "This is your fault, Tisa,
so the least you can do is help me get rid of it."  Tisa felt a vital heat
creeping up from her belly, making her flesh tingle pleasantly.
     "Of course, Lady," she said, pleased that her voice didn't
betray her nervousness.  Making her way onto the bed, she knelt
behind Riana, close enough that she could feel the heat of the other
woman's skin.  She slipped her hands under the heavy cloak of Riana's
hair, her hands seeking out the slim column of her Lady's neck.
Carefully, her mouth dry and her heart pounding away, she slid her
hands down, inside the loosened collar of the robe, until her palms were
resting on Riana's bare shoulders, her thumbs pointing down parallel to
the spine.  Then, carefully, she began to knead and probe for tension.
     "Mmmph," Riana groaned.  "Ah!  Ah.  Mmmmm ..."  She
arched her back, clearly appreciative of Tisa's attentions.  For her part,
Tisa tried not to let the seductive warmth of Riana's dusky skin distract
her from the business at hand.  That task was made much more difficult
as Riana fairly purred, arching languorously against her befuddled
bodyguard.
     "Delightful," she muttered.  "I'd forgotten what wonderful
hands you have, Tisa."
     "Thank you, Lady," Tisa mumbled.  Riana's proximity was
causing a light sweat to break out across her forehead.  In truth, it was
more than just her closeness.  Tisa had seen Riana manner swing from
cool and competent to languorous and playful before, but she had
rarely been on the receiving end of such a shift.  During all the hours she
spent close to her Lady, she lived for the rare moments such as this,
when she was privileged to see a side of Riana that few ever witnessed.
     "Tisa," Riana sighed.  "About the Hisakawa girl ..."  Tisa
tensed, her hands freezing in place.  Damn.  She'd allowed herself to
become complacent, distracted.  Now the Ice Queen would reappear,
and Tisa's dressing down would be all the worse for having let her
guard down.  Her stomach churned into a tight, sour ball as she wet her
lips reflexively.
     "Lady ..." she began.  Riana reached back lazily, covering
Tisa's hands with her own.  The contact sent an electric thrill through
Tisa's body.
     "Don't stop," Riana murmured.  "That's just what I needed."
Cautiously, Tisa began kneading once again, and Riana let her head fall
back with a contented sigh.
     "Better," she breathed.  "Now ... ah, yes.  The girl.  Tisa, the
time has come to bring you into my confidence regarding recent events.
To begin with, our young Reiko Hisakawa.  I have my suspicions about
what happened last night.  You see, I believe young Reiko is the heir to
a great power ... an assessment  I suspect Keisuke would agree with
wholeheartedly."
     "Then ... she's the one who burned him?" Tisa asked,
confused.  If Riana had set her favourite against the girl, and the girl had
survived, then ...
     "Almost certainly," Riana rumbled softly.  "He was most put
out when I gave Wynneth the task of running her to ground."  Tisa's
thoughts whirled madly.
     "But Lady, what if Lady Wynneth snares the girl?  She would
be a powerful tool in the wrong hands, and if I may be so bold, Lady
Wynneth would not hesitate to use such a tool to her advantage."
     "Very good, Tisa.  That is quite true.  However, I gave
Wynneth that task to keep her occupied during a delicate phase of my
operations.  I obscured the trail to draw things out and buy myself some
time.  If Wynneth did clash with the girl last night, though, I may have to
re-evaluate her cunning.  If she survived, that is," she added dryly.
     "Lady Wynneth has survived against many amongst the
Aerkinma who would see her enslaved or dead," Tisa said, doubt
tinging her voice.  "It is hard to believe this girl could have killed her so
easily."
     "Don't underestimate her, my dear.  She may be heir to the
power of the Golden Dragon Clan's sorceries."  Tisa frowned.
     "I've heard tales of them," Tisa mused, working her palms
slowly along Riana's spine.  "Weren't they among the humans who
stole the Dragon Orb from our realm?"
     "We'd stolen it first, but yes," Riana smiled.  "To this day,
nothing remains of what was our greatest city but shattered ruins.  So,
you see, caution is definitely called for."
     "But Lady, if the girl wasn't warned of our presence here
before, she is now."
     "Yes," Riana sighed.  "Sadly, gambles don't always turn out the way
we would like.  I WAS supposed to have more time.  Matters are
coming to a head, and that idiot Tragus hasn't accomplished anything
yet.  Even in desperation, I should have known better than to depend
on him."  Tisa thought back to the club where Riana and Tragus had
ended up dancing.  It was news to her that Riana and Tragus were into
something together, but it would explain her Lady's mood that night.
She sat back warily as Riana twisted around so that she and Tisa were
facing each other on the bed.
     "You see, I've recently discovered the whereabouts of the final
artifact," she murmured, her stormy gray eyes staring into Tisa's from
only inches away.  Riana was so close that Tisa could feel the other
woman's breath on her face when she spoke.
     "You ... have it?" she asked incredulously.  Riana smiled, and
Tisa felt the muscles in her belly flutter in response.
     "No, but I know where it is.  And I want it in my possession. Soon.
After so long, the time is near."  Tisa felt mixed emotions at the
revelation, and as if sensing her uncertainty, Riana reached out to trace
one finger along the line of her bodyguard's cheek.  The light, teasing
contact made Tisa shudder slightly, and she dropped her eyes,
embarrassed at her loss of control in front of her Lady.  Riana
just smiled, though, and cupped her palm gently against Tisa's cheek.
     "You know what's at stake," she breathed to her astonished
bodyguard.  "I can't involve Keisuke in this.  I fear his jealousy of
Vaenruth might jeopardize everything.  You're the only one I can trust
with this.  I need your help, Tisa."  Tisa's heart was hammering in her
chest so wildly that she was certain Riana could hear it.  Closing her
eyes, she pushed her face lightly into Riana's warm hand like a cat, her
Lady's words wrapping her in tingling heat, banishing her previous
uncertainty.  Looking up slowly, her head still bowed, she enfolded
Riana's hand in her own.  Abandoning her usual caution, she drew
Riana's deceptively delicate hand to her mouth, brushing her lips against
the palm in a lingering kiss.
     "I remain your most devoted servant, Lady," she whispered.
"You can depend on me.  For anything."  She still held the hand next to
her lips, and Riana curled her slim fingers so that her long nails brushed
lightly against Tisa's cheek in a proprietary gesture.
     "Loyal Tisa," she purred.  "I knew I could count on you.  Now
here's what I need  ..."

***

     "Oh, this really stinks," Ukyou said flatly.  "I can't begin to tell
you how much this stinks."
     "Look, I know this must seem hard to believe," Reiko began in
a maddeningly reasonable tone.  "I mean, us talking about demons and
all ..."
     "Um, remember I mentioned fighting demons at Furinkan?"
Ryouga broke in tentatively.  "Ukyou was there."  Reiko looked at
Ukyou with undisguised interest.  In fact, she'd been giving Ukyou a lot
of looks like that during the discussion of the previous night's events.
That didn't help Ukyou's mood at all.  Reiko was making eyes at her
and Ryouga both.  What a floozy!  And ... and ...
     And why was she thinking about this when she'd just been told
that some of those monsters were still around?  She shook her head,
trying to focus on the matter at hand.
     "Okay," she said.  "Putting aside the small matter of vampires in
our city's fine parks ..."
     "She wasn't a vampire, exactly," Reiko said.  "She was a type
of higher demon, sort of vampire royalty I guess you could say.  She'd
almost certainly be unaffected by sunlight or religious symbols ..."
     "Fine," Ukyou said shortly.  "I don't care if she's Queen of all the
Vampires.  I just want to know why you dragged Ryouga into
something like that.  You're the sorceress, not him."  Ryouga suddenly
looked very uncomfortable.
     "I didn't know about them being here," Reiko shot back.  "I
only wanted to talk to him about this Kunou guy.  That's all."
     "Oh, yes, that," Ukyou said, crossing her arms tightly.  "By all
means, let's talk about that.  You need something from the estate, but
you're only supposed to talk to Sasuke, not Kunou."
     "Look, those were my instructions," Reiko told her, exasperated.  "I
can't really explain ..."
     "My point," Ukyou said coldly.  "There's a lot you can't explain.
Like what you're after and why you want it.  Like how you know so
much about these creatures.  Like why we shouldn't just go talk to
Kunou ..."
     "That might not be smart," Reiko said softly, and something in
her tone made Ukyou pause.
     "Why not?" she asked, still suspicious.  Reiko stared at her,
eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
     "Well," she said at last, "let me put it to you this way.  There
are things about the Kunou family that you don't know.  Dangerous
things."  Ukyou snorted.
     "Gee, thanks for the news flash.  They're a pretty strange
bunch, everybody knows that."
     "It goes beyond strange," Reiko insisted.  "I've been watching that
place.  It's protective wards have been allowed to degrade ..."
     "Um, protective whats?" Ryouga asked hesitantly.
     "Wards.  Protective shields."
     "I've never seen such things there," Ukyou said.  Reiko smiled
humourlessly.
     "You'd have to be either a magic user or a creature of magic to
see them," Reiko told her.  "They're for protection against evil, but
they're full of holes.  And one night I saw lower demons coming out of
the estate.  They were with a woman.  Not a demon exactly, but with a
very dark aura.  Definitely bad news.  And she returned to the estate
later, where she was buzzed right in the front gate."
     "All of which means what?" Ukyou demanded.  Reiko sighed.
     "I don't know for sure," she admitted.  "But it can't be good."
     "So what do we do, then?" Ryouga asked.  Ukyou bristled at
his use of the word "we".  Reiko brightened immediately.
     "Well, I came here because I need your help with my plan," she
smiled.
     "What, there's a plan now?" Ukyou asked.
     "What did you have in mind?" Ryouga inquired politely.  Reiko
smiled at him, and Ukyou felt her cheek twitch.  That was a smile
calculated to dazzle the male of the species, and it was clearly having its
desired effect.  And Ryouga, like many men, would agree to anything
for a pretty girl.
     The idiot.
     "You know what Sasuke looks like, right?  Let's sneak into the
estate today and see if he's there."
     "Well ..." Ryouga began.
     "That's the plan?" Ukyou asked incredulously.  "That plan stinks!"
Reiko turned her dazzling smile on Ukyou, irritating her further.
     "Oh, come on.  What could it hurt?" she asked innocently.  "If
he's not there, then maybe I'll have to consider approaching this Kunou
guy directly.  And if we find Sasuke, he'll be able to clear everything
up for all of us.  So, how's about it?"
     "It still stinks," Ukyou sighed.  "But I don't have a better plan,
so I suppose it'll have to do.  With any luck, he'll be there and we can
put an end to this quickly."
     "Ah, an optimist," Reiko grinned, linking her arm through
Ukyou's.  She reached out and linked her other arm with Ryouga's,
and pulled them both towards the door.  "I like that.  And with two
handsome guys to protect me, I won't have anything to worry about.
My day is looking up."  Ukyou ignored Ryouga's startled look at the
"two guys" remark.
     "Don't count on it," she sighed.  "It's early yet.  Very early."

***

     Nabiki worked her way through the crowd, jostling and
bumping as she neared the exit.  Too bad I'm not cutting classes for
something more enjoyable, she told herself ruefully.  Still, she felt a
tingle of anticipation in her stomach.  If things went well today, she
might end up with some useful information.  The worst her quarry could
do was slam the door in her face.
     Nabiki found the bus she needed, and soon she was disembarking
close to her destination.  Consulting her notebook, she  proceeded to a
nearby side street, busy with morning traffic.  She found the address
she was looking for about halfway down.  The building was a little run
down, but to badly off, in an area that was somewhat dingy, but with
plenty of signs that the people in the neighbourhood cared for their
surroundings.  All in all, not a bad place to live.
     Not that Nabiki would have wanted to live there, of course.
Around the side of the building were stairs that led to the second floor
veranda.  Nabiki went up, her shoes clattering noisily on the metal
stairs.  There were three doors off the veranda; the one she was
looking for was the middle one.  Two B.
     "Or not to be," she whispered.  Oddly appropriate.  She stood
in front of the door, her bookbag resting lightly against her thighs, and
took a deep breath.
     Well, she thought.  Here goes nothing.  Raising her hand, she
knocked sharply.  Moments later, the door opened to show a woman
wearing a plain white sleeveless blouse and dark skirt.  Her brow
furrowed as she looked out at Nabiki.
     "Yes?" she asked hesitantly.  Nabiki smiled.
     "Hello again, Yukio.  Remember me?"  The woman's almond-
shaped eyes widened in shock.
     "You," she whispered.  "I ... how did you ..."
     "Can I come in?" Nabiki asked politely.  "There are a few things I
want to discuss with you."

***

     "That's a wild story," Reiko said, shaking her head.
     "Does that mean you don't believe us?" Ukyou asked.  Reiko
sighed.  Ryouga's roommate was still being hard to get along with.
Well, that was fine with her.  It just gave her an excuse to turn up the
charm.  He'd respond to flirtation and flattery.
     After all, they always did.
     The more immediate problem was that they'd arrived at the
Kunou estate.  Ryouga was shooting furtive glances up and down the
street, making sure that nobody was watching while Ukyou studied the
wall impassively.
     "Not at all," Reiko responded smoothly.  "I just didn't expect to hear
about something like that happening here, that's all."  Ukyou seemed
strangely unappeased by her manner.
     "Whatever," he said resignedly.  "We might as well get this over
with."  He turned to Reiko with a frown.  "Those ward things won't
cause us trouble, will they?"  Reiko shook her head.
     "Nope.  Not unless you're some kind of supernatural evil."
     "Well, I wasn't last time I checked," he grunted.  "Come on."
Gracefully, he leapt up, making it easily to the top of the wall.  Ryouga
followed suit, and they disappeared inside.  Reiko just stared up after
them, nonplussed.
     "Show-offs," she grumbled.  Quickly checking to ensure she
was still unobserved, she cast a levitation spell, floating quickly over the
top of the wall.  She came down neatly between Ryouga and Ukyou,
flinging her arms out with a flourish.
     "Taa-daa!" she announced.
     "Was that a spell?" Ryouga asked, clearly impressed.
     "Oh, a small one," she said modestly.  Ukyou just rolled his
eyes.
     "Come on, let's get going," he said, gazing off through the trees.
"We should snoop around the main house.  That's where he's likely to
be."  Something caught Reiko's eye as she turned, and she stepped
closer to the wall.  There, mostly hidden by the shrubbery, a scrap of
paper fluttered gently in the light breeze.  She moved a branch aside
and examined it closely.
     Ah-hah, she thought.  So I WAS right.  Very interesting.
     "What's that?" Ryouga asked.  She let the branch spring back
and turned away.
     "Nothing important," she told him briskly.  "Come on, let's go."
     "Careful of the traps," Ukyou said cheerfully.  Reiko blinked.
     "Traps?"
     "Oh, didn't you know?" he asked innocently.  "Since Sasuke's a
ninja, he loves booby-traps."  Ukyou slipped into the trees, leaving
Reiko to stare after him.
     "Was he kidding?" she asked weakly.  Ryouga grinned.
     "I'm afraid not.  Come on."  Together, they followed Ukyou
into the trees.

***

     Nabiki watched Yukio closely.  The first time they'd spoken,
she'd just been through a deep emotional shock.  The second time, she
was in shock AND drunk.  Nabiki had wondered how she would react
to their third meeting.
     Although she hid it well, she seemed a little nervous.  Well, that was
understandable.  She set a tray on the table, tucking her skirt under
herself carefully as she knelt.  She poured tea into two cups, then
offered one to Nabiki.  Every inch the dutiful hostess, Nabiki reflected
dryly.  Impressive, under the circumstances.
     She was surprised anew by how much Kodachi had resembled
her mother.  Yukio had the same high cheekbones and almost feline
eyes as her daughter.  Her hair, tied back into a loose ponytail, was the
same colour as Kodachi's had been.  Only her air of sorrow, of quiet
desperation, was totally unlike her only daughter.  She lacked
Kodachi's manic air, letting Nabiki see what Kodachi might have been
like had she not been so damned intense all the time.
     Nabiki was surprised when that thought made her feel just a
little sad.  She hadn't liked Kodachi, but the girl had been young.  Who
knew what she might have become, given time?
     Sighing, she sipped her tea, waiting as Yukio did the same.
She let the other woman speak first.
     "Have you seen Tatewaki recently?" Yukio asked finally.  Her
tone was deliberately casual, and it didn't fool Nabiki a bit.
     "Yes, I see him pretty much every day," she answered, just as
casually.  Yukio nodded.
     "I see.  Is he well?"
     "I think he's better than he has been.  He's starting to come to
grips with Kodachi's death."  Yukio's face was deliberately neutral at
the mention of Kodachi.
     "He took it poorly?" she asked, her voice quiet.  Nabiki steeled
herself.  She'd come for information, but she couldn't deny the woman
this little glimpse into the lives of the children she apparently barely
knew.
     "Very poorly.  He was there, you know."  Yukio twitched at
that, covering by taking another sip of tea.  Her hands barely shook.  If
Nabiki hadn't been looking for it, she probably wouldn't have noticed.
     "No," she said after a moment.  "No, I didn't know."
     "He blames himself for not saving her.  It eats at him, I think,
but he won't talk about it."  A strange expression settled over Yukio's
face at that.
     "Yes, he would," she murmured.  Nabiki took a deep breath.
     "Yukio, do you remember telling me about Kazuhiro?"  She
flushed, staring down into her cup.
     "I ... vaguely, but ..."
     "I understand," Nabiki told her.    "You were a little ... under
the weather when we talked that time."  Yukio nodded, her eyes still
carefully blank.  "But you told me that your children were cursed with
bravery, that Kazuhiro saved Kodachi when the dark came for her.  I
didn't understand what you meant then, but I do now."  Yukio's head
snapped up, and the blankness in her eyes was gone.  There was fear
there now, and dark understanding.
     "What do you mean?" she asked hoarsely.  Nabiki set her cup
down carefully.
     "I think you know what I mean.  I'm talking about the Kunou
family's secret demon-slaying business.  I'm talking about things that go
bump in the night."  Yukio shook her head slowly back and forth, her
eyes never leaving Nabiki's.
     "You don't know what ... that's insane," she stuttered weakly.
Nabiki sighed.
     "When you told me that monsters killed your son, I didn't
believe you.  Now I do.  I've seen them, Yukio.  Up close.  Much
closer than I would have liked, as it happens.  And I've been in the
tunnels under the estate.  Your son has reluctantly accepted my help
with his burden."  She grinned wryly.  "Stress the reluctant part.  So
now I need a few answers, and since he's not being totally forthcoming,
I came to you."  Yukio was staring at her now with a sort of detached
fascination, her already pale face having gone stark white.
     "Why?" was all she said.
     "Why what?"
     "Why would you ... involve yourself in this?  Why?"  She kept
staring at Nabiki, cup cradled idly in her hands.  Nabiki sighed.
     "Believe me, I've asked myself that question more than once,
and there is no easy answer," she told the older woman.  "Just
understand that this thing threatens  more than your family now, Yukio.
And since I am in it, I intend to keep my butt covered.  There's just too
much history here, too many dark secrets.  I need to shine some light
into the shadows.  Will you help?"  Yukio still appeared unconvinced.
     "I don't think you understand just how dangerous this is," she
insisted, playing with her tea cup nervously.  Nabiki remembered her
run through the streets, misshapen forms loping after her.  It had a sort
of nightmare quality now, but it had been all too real.  A matter of
seconds had separated her from a messy death, and she had woken up
in a cold sweat more than once since then, from dreams in which the
gates didn't open in time.
     "Believe me, I understand exactly how dangerous this is," she
assured the older woman.  "And it's not going to be safer for me if I'm
ignorant."  She took a breath, then hit Yukio's most vulnerable spot
with only the barest twinge of conscience.
     "I can't help your son if I don't know what I'm up against," she said
with her best trust-me gaze.  Yukio glanced up at her, and Nabiki could
see that her shot had hit home.
     "He really confided all those secrets to you?" she asked.
"About the estate's history, I mean, and the ..."
     "Demons?  Yes, he did.  I finally made him see that he needed
help, but he's pretty stubborn.  I'm certain there's a lot he's not telling
me.  So, how about it?  Will you help me ... no, help US?"  Yukio
stared down at her hands for a time as if she'd never seen them before,
and Nabiki held herself still, waiting.  When the other woman looked up
at last, Nabiki knew she'd won.
     "What do you want to know?" she asked resignedly.  Nabiki
folded her hands carefully.  It was going to be hard to dig out
information when she wasn't really sure what she was looking for.  The
important thing was to get Yukio talking.  Once she was comfortable,
she'd probably start to spill all sorts of things she hadn't even known
she remembered.  And Nabiki had just the starting point.
     "Tell me about Kazuhiro," she said softly.  "Kunou mentioned
him when we were in the tunnels under the estate, told me that the two
of them used to sneak down there when they were little."  Yukio smiled
wistfully, her gaze sliding away again, unable to settle in any one place.
     "That wouldn't surprise me," she murmured, her voice heavy
with melancholy.  "They were constantly together, daring each other to
do things.  They were very close.  And Tatewaki looked up to his big
brother, practically adored him."
     "And they knew about the tunnels, the demons, all of that?"
     "They knew more than I would have had them know at such a
young age," Yukio replied, an edge creeping into her voice.  "Akira
always insisted that they needed to be brought up fully aware of their
destiny.  I argued with him, but in the end, I lost that argument.
Actually, I lost most of them.  Maybe if I'd fought harder ..."  She
shook her head, running her fingers nervously through her hair and
smiling tightly.  "But that's history now, isn't it?"
     "Kunou never really talks about him," Nabiki nudged.  "How
did he die?  Was it really ..."
     "Monsters?" Yukio asked tightly.  Tiny tremors ran through her
hands, and she clasped them tightly together, her knuckles turning white
with the pressure she exerted.  "Yes, perhaps you should know what
happened that night.  Perhaps then you'll understand just how
monstrous this whole thing became, how it overtook our lives."  Yukio
leaned her forearms on the table and hunched forward, staring down at
her clenched hands.  Nabiki had the feeling, though, that the woman
was seeing something else, something far away in time ... the night her
life had jumped off its tracks.  She sat quietly, willing to wait until Yukio
was ready.
     And, after a few moments, Yukio began to speak.
     "I suppose it was the nightmare which woke him, although I'll never
know for certain.  They invaded our sleep for the first time that night,
and we all had the same horrid dream ... the dark tower, and that huge,
terrifying eye.  It woke me before it did Akira, though, and as I sat
there in our bed, covered with cold sweat, I knew that something was
terribly wrong.  I could just feel it."
     "Wait a second," Nabiki said, cocking her head.  "That night
was the first time any of you had those nightmares?"
     "Yes," Yukio said softly, her brow furrowed.  "You know
about them as well?"
     "I'm afraid so," Nabiki mused, "but I was under the impression
that they had always happened."  Yukio shook her head, her gaze
falling back to her twined hands.
     "No.  It started to seem like they'd always haunted us later on,
but that night was the very first time."  Interesting.  She was curious to
know more, but she didn't want to distract Yukio any further.
     "I'm sorry.  Please go on," she urged.  Yukio nodded
woodenly.
     "At the time, I didn't realize what they were.  I thought I'd
simply had a regular nightmare, not an unheard of occurrence
considering the estate's history.  Akira was thrashing in his sleep, and I
thought to wake him in case he was having one too.  Then ..."  She
stopped and wet her lips.
     "Then?"
     "The first screams."  Yukio's voice was so low that Nabiki had
to lean forward to hear her.  "We leapt from our bed, Akira grabbing
his sword.  As we ran we could hear more screams, high pitched and
... Akira was ahead of me when we got to Kodachi's room ..."  She
stopped again, her hands trembling.
     "I don't know why it went after her," she whispered at last.  "I
don't know why.  But it got in somehow ... they never came into the
house, you understand, not back in those days.  And Kazuhiro must
have woken after his nightmare, and he was near his sister's room for
some reason when it ... and he ..."
     "Yukio," Nabiki said gently.  The older woman looked up, and
Nabiki was not surprised to see those dark eyes full of tears.  They
welled up and ran down her cheeks, but Yukio's voice, though soft,
remained steady.
     "It wasn't a terribly big one, but it was very ugly.  It had long
claws, I remember that clearly.  Kazuhiro had thrown his body over
Kodachi, and it was clawing at him, trying to get to her.  There was so
much blood, and Kodachi was screaming for me to come, covered
with her brother's blood, screaming for her m-mother.  For ..."  Yukio
swallowed, and Nabiki cursed herself for thinking that this would be a
good way to start things off.
     "Yukio, why don't you take a second here ..." she began.
     "Akira drew his sword," she said, staring into Nabiki's eyes,
her gaze haunted.  A single tear ran down to the corner of her chin,
hanging there for a moment before dropping off.  "It lit up the whole
room, that sword, like a tiny sun.  He was in a rage, and the thing tried
to run but he cut it down, screaming.  He was screaming, and I was in
the doorway screaming, and Kodachi was too.  But not my Kazuhiro.
He wasn't screaming, not anymore.  And there was so much blood.  It
was everywhere, but somehow I told myself that he would be all right.
I told myself over and over again that it would be all right, while my
husband hacked the creature into pieces in a berserk rage.
     "Then someone brushed by me.  It was Tatewaki.  And he
knew.  He knew that everything wasn't going to be okay.  I tried to
keep him from seeing, but it was too late.  I don't know how much he
saw of what happened, but he'd seen enough to know that his beloved
big brother was not going to be all right."  Yukio's cheeks were wet
with tears, and she wiped at them ineffectually with the back of one
hand as if only just becoming aware of their presence.  Nabiki
wordlessly dug out a handkerchief and handed it to the older woman.
     Whatever she'd been expecting to hear, this wasn't it.
     "Nothing was ever good for us again after that night," Yukio
whispered hoarsely, her voice quavering slightly.  "Kodachi was so
traumatized, she didn't speak for almost two months.  When she did,
she'd lost her cheerful nature.  And she never once mentioned Kazuhiro
again.  Those bizarre nightmares came some nights, and regular
nightmares haunted us the rest of the time.  Sasuke had been ambushed
and nearly killed that night, but he still blamed himself for not being
there to protect the children.  Even he changed after that."  She
mopped at her face with the handkerchief, sniffing and fussing so that
Nabiki couldn't see her face.
     "I know it's hardly sufficient, Yukio, but I'm sorry.  Kunou ...
Tatewaki never told me any of this."  Yukio nodded.
     "I suspected he hadn't," she sniffled.  "He never spoke of it
afterwards, not to me anyway.  It almost seemed sometimes as if he
blamed himself for what happened."  She sat back, taking a deep,
shaky breath, then letting it out.
     "That was silly, of course.  I placed the blame where it belonged,
with my husband.  He was forever filling the boys' heads with tales of
noble warriors fighting the forces of darkness and such nonsense.  And
the boys ate it up, of course."  She snorted delicately, anger flashing in
her eyes, the anger that made her look so much like her daughter.
"Noble.  There is nothing noble about this madness.  This is the enemy,
Nabiki Tendou.  Creatures that think nothing of slaughtering children in
their beds.  What could be worth all this pain and suffering?  What?
Do you know?"
     "No," Nabiki told her.  "No, I don't, not really.  But I'll find out,
believe me.  And you can help."  Yukio stared at her, then sagged,
her anger evaporating quickly.
     "Very well," she said resignedly.  "What is it you wish to
know?"  Nabiki leaned forward.
     "For starters," she said quietly, "tell me about the inner circle."

***

     They stumbled across the grove by accident.
     They'd been trying to take a shortcut to a small cluster of
outbuildings while staying hidden in the trees when they'd come upon
the peaceful little clearing.  The sight of all the grave markers brought
them up short.  Not even Reiko had anything to say at first.
     "I never knew this was here," Ryouga whispered.  Ukyou
nodded in agreement.  The grove was sheltered and shady, cool even in
the rising heat of the day.  A small stream gurgled softly somewhere
close by, an intimate and somehow comforting sound.  The three
stepped into the sanctuary hesitantly, as if their very presence would
destroy its fragile peace.
     They drifted slowly apart, and Ukyou found herself checking
out the markers as she wandered.  Some were quite ornate, while
others were elegantly simple and unadorned.  Some of the dates went
back hundreds of years, but others ...
     She stopped.  "Hey," she called softly.  Ryouga was at her side
quickly, giving her an inquisitive glance.
     "What is it?" he asked in a hushed tone.  She nodded her head
at the marker that had caught her attention.  Ryouga's eyes widened as
he took in the rose carved into the black stone.
     "Is that ...?" he began.  She nodded.
     "Yeah," she breathed.  "It is."  She moved closer to the marker,
running her fingertips gently over the carving of the rose, letting them
slip slowly down to trace the characters of Kodachi's name.   Ryouga
joined her, reading the inscription silently.  Neither of them spoke.  It
was as if Kodachi's marker cast a sudden tinge of sorrow over the
peace in the grove, or at least reminded them that this peace was the
peace of those who have passed beyond the worries of the flesh.
     Here was someone they had known, someone their own age,
someone they had talked to and fought against and beside.  Here was
someone whose final moments they had witnessed.  Seeing her marker
was a sobering reminder of that fateful day at Furinkan, the day
mortality had finally touched their charmed lives.  Kodachi would never
again bound through the streets, waving her ribbon.  She would never
again laugh that shrill, smug laugh of hers.  All she was now existed in
the memories of those who had known her and those (please, let there
be someone, Ukyou thought sadly) who'd loved her.
     She wondered if one day a young Kunou would walk these
hushed paths and chance upon this stone.  If he did, would he know
that this girl had once lived, been vital and wild, had bedevilled her
rivals at every turn?  Would he know that she had given her young life
for love?
     Or would he just see a name like many other names, carved
into dead rock, a piece of history?
     It hardly seemed fair to her that a person's life could end up as
so little.
     "Damn!" Reiko blurted.  Ukyou jerked out of her reverie, the
expletive sounding loud as a gunshot in the reverential hush of the
grove.  Scowling, she strode over to where Reiko was standing,
grabbing the blonde's shoulder and jerking her around sharply.
     "Do you mind?" she hissed furiously.  "Show a little respect!"  Reiko
just pointed at the stone in front of her and stomped off, her cheeks
flushed.  Still seething at Reiko's behaviour, Ukyou turned to see what
had prompted the outburst.  She blinked, then read the stone again.  It
still said the same thing.  Ryouga came up quietly behind her, watching
Reiko cautiously over his shoulder.
     "What is it?" he whispered.  Ukyou motioned at the small stone with
her chin.
     "We found Sasuke," she sighed.

***

     Nabiki leaned back against her seat, the rhythmic vibrations of
the train sinking into her body.  Her thoughts were churning madly as
she tried to catalogue everything she'd been told.
     Yukio had filled in some blanks for her, but unfortunately she
had known very little about the few survivors of the inner circle who'd
remained in contact with her husband.  There were only two names
she'd been able to give of people who might be able to help.  One was
a woman in Osaka, the other an old priest who ran a shrine up north,
and she couldn't guarantee that either knew much about the old inner
circle, much less whether either of them were still alive.
     Still, that was someplace to start.  All she'd needed was a
starting point to unravel part of the Kunou family mystery to begin with.
Any lead was cause for optimism.
     Of course, her optimism was tempered by thoughts of what
else Yukio had revealed.
     Kunou had seen not one but two siblings die horrible deaths, one at
a very young age.  The wonder wasn't that he was strange, but that he
wasn't completely insane.  Nabiki wondered what other secrets were
hidden deep in the murk of Tatewaki Kunou's soul, and just how tightly
wired he was.
     That thought led to others.  Was there any significance to the
fact that the mysterious nightmares had started the night Kazuhiro had
died?  If so, did that mean that the enemy was behind them?  Finding
out might well be impossible at this point.  She could try to ask Kunou,
of course, but that would be a delicate operation.  For starters, he
would want to know how she'd discovered that the dreams had started
that particular night, and she would certainly not be able to explain her
knowledge of that event without revealing that she'd spoken to his
mother.
     Thinking back on the scene between the two she'd witnessed while
hiding in the grove, she was pretty sure he'd be displeased at the
prospect.  While the spectre of Kunou's displeasure normally wouldn't
have given her the slightest pause, this was a little different.  Family
business was, by its nature, intensely personal and often messy, and it
didn't inspire people to act reasonably.
     Well.  She'd have to work something out, wouldn't she?  After
all, she'd come this far.
     She closed her eyes and saw Yukio again in her mind's eye,
asking her why she was doing this.  All this history, all this darkness, all
this treachery and deceit and madness.  And even though she was
working behind the scenes, there could still be danger.
     So why?
     It bothered her that she couldn't articulate her reasons.
     But not so much that she was willing to stop.
     Rehearsing what she was going to say when she saw Kunou,
she stretched out her legs and let the motion of the train soothe her.

***

     Tragus paced.
     He didn't particularly want to go back into the room.  The smell
was unpleasant, and the sight of that ruined body seeping putrid fluids
into the bed where he'd finally deposited it didn't do wonders for him
either.  He couldn't even be sure that Wynneth hadn't gone and died on
him already.
     But assuming she hadn't, he had no idea what to do.  As a
Borgunma, he'd been a whiz at tearing people apart.  Keeping them
from dying had never been part of the job description.  Hinako had no
abilities that would help, and he couldn't take Wynneth to a hospital.
There was Riana, of course, but that option left much to be desired.
For one thing, Wynneth had made it clear that she and Riana were
rivals.  Riana might refuse to help, and even if she didn't, the advantage
Tragus had been offered by aligning himself secretly with Wynneth
would be lost.
     And, for all Tragus knew, Riana was the one who'd done that
to Wynneth in the first place.
     So here he was, pacing the small living room, cursing his
indecision.  If he was ever going to play with the big boys, he'd have to
learn to take bold leaps when called for.
     Finally he sighed.  This was getting him nowhere.  Gritting his
teeth, he slipped into the bedroom.
     He'd drawn the curtains, but enough light penetrated to allow
him to see the charred form on the bed.  Edging closer, he took quick,
shallow breaths, breathing through his mouth to minimize the smell of
charred flesh.  Wynneth's head was twisted to one side, the fairly
unmarked half facing up, emboldening him.  He reached out tentatively,
looking for some intact skin to shake.
     When one clawed hand shot up and grabbed his arm, he
screeched in alarm, his female voice high pitched and shrill.  The hand
was rough, almost skeletal, but inhumanly strong.  Frantically he yanked
back, pulling free so abruptly he toppled onto his butt on the floor.  He
scrambled to his feet, chest heaving as he backed against the wall.  On
the bed, Wynneth struggled weakly to rise, her one good eye pain
maddened and rolling in its socket.
     "Why the hell did you do that?" Tragus blurted angrily.  "You
scared the hell out of me!"
     "Turrrr ... ragussss?" Wynneth gurgled wetly.  "Ssssooo.  I
muh-made it.  Huhhhh."  She stopped struggling and lay back, her
breathing wet and painful.
     "Yeah, you made it.  No offense, but the carpet and the bed
are never gonna be the same, Wynneth."  The pain-wracked Aerkinma
twitched spasmodically.
     "You'll ... pardon me if I duh-don't care," she choked out.
     "Yeah, whatever.  Boy, you're a lot livelier than I thought you'd
be," Tragus said, secretly relieved.  Wynneth twitched.
     "Pain," she hissed.
     "I would have guessed that," Tragus informed her.  He started
to move closer until she held up one blackened, trembling hand.
     "No!" she groaned.  "No.  You mussst not ... come near.  I can
smell your ... blood ... oh, ssssmell it ..."
     "Uh, yeah," Tragus said cautiously, backing to the wall again.
"And that's bad?"
     "If I could ... reach you, I would ... take you ... and drain you ...
every lassst drop ... wouldn't be ... able to stop ..."  Tragus looked at
the sharp fangs protruding from behind Wynneth's blackened lips and
grimaced.
     "Gotcha," he said.  Wynneth writhed weakly, her long nails
tearing into the stained sheets and mattress as she convulsed in pain.
     "Blood," she gasped.  "I need it ... quickly ..."  Tragus cocked his
head, eyes narrowing as he considered the situation.
     He could easily drain the chi from an unsuspecting victim and
bring them back here, but it was the middle of the day and the risk of
discovery was quite real.  And discovery meant giving up his
comfortable life, and his job close to all those delicious young students.
And if Riana had done this to Wynneth, she might well do the same to
anyone who was found helping her.
     On the other hand, if he helped Wynneth now, she would be in
his debt.  He couldn't help but recall the elegant, seductive beauty
who'd teased him with a fleeting kiss after their first meeting.  Her very
presence had caused his blood to boil with need, her siren song
promising pleasures beyond the brutal couplings he had indulged in
during his previous incarnation.  For the merest chance to possess that
lush, alluring seductress, he was willing to chance almost anything.
     Boldness has brought me this far, he thought giddily, and it will
bring me farther still ... if I dare.
     "Perhaps it is already too late," he suggested carefully.  "I
mean, I've heard Aerkinma can survive a great deal of damage, but
this ..."  He trailed off suggestively.  Wynneth made a wet, gurgling
noise that took him a few seconds to identify.
     It was laughter.
     "Oh, I assure you ... that I can ressstore myself ... fully.  With
sssweeeet ... blood ..."  Ah.  If she would once again be whole and
beautiful, then his course was clear.
     "Why then, of course I'll help you, my dear Wynneth," he
smiled, edging around the bed.  "Consider it an expression of my faith
in our new partnership."  She didn't reply, slumping loosely back
against the stained mattress, her breathing loud and laboured.  With a
final glance at Wynneth's ruined form, Tragus backed quickly out of the
room.
     It appeared that he needed to find his new partner a blood donor,
and fast.

***

     "I just don't believe it," Reiko said yet again.  Ryouga knew
she just didn't believe it.  He knew this because she had told him
several times on the way back from the estate.  He'd developed an
admirably eloquent shrug with which to respond to the statement.
     He needn't have bothered, of course, since Reiko didn't
appear to be showing much interest in his input.
     They sat at the counter at Ucchan's, Reiko staring at her
carryall which was sitting forlornly in front of her.  Every now and again
she would hit it, or slap it, or flick the strap.  Ryouga mostly just sat
there, because he couldn't think of anything useful to say.
     "Well, I might as well make some lunch," Ukyou said cheerfully
as she came out of the back.  Reiko glanced up at her disinterestedly,
then froze.  Ukyou was wearing her usual chef's outfit and had her hair
tied back with a white ribbon.  It took Ryouga a second to figure out
what the problem was, but then he understood.
     There was certainly no way Ukyou would be mistaken for a
boy in that outfit.
     Reiko blinked a couple of times as Ukyou stepped behind the
grill.
     "You?" she asked blankly.  "You.  Wait a minute.  You're a ... girl?"
Ukyou turned to her and smiled brightly.  It had seemed to Ryouga that
she didn't like Reiko right from the start, and he suspected that Ukyou
was enjoying this far more than was strictly necessary.
     "That's right," Ukyou said, drawing a couple of spatulas from
her bandolier.  "Now then ..."
     "You're a girl," Reiko clarified.
     "Couldn't you tell?" Ukyou asked innocently.  Ryouga saw
Reiko's face darken and started to edge away.
     "Of course I couldn't tell!" she blurted.  "You were dressed in
a boy's uniform!  I ... hey, Ryouga!  Did YOU know about this?"
Ryouga shrank under her furious glare.
     "Well, yeah, I mean ..."
     "Well, why didn't you say anything?"  He blinked.
     "Hey, stop picking on Ryouga," Ukyou interrupted.  "It's not
his fault you feel the need to flirt with everything wearing pants, is it?"
     "Excuse me?" Reiko asked, turning back to Ukyou.  "What the
hell's that supposed to mean?"
     "It's bad enough you dragged him into this dangerous situation ..."
Ukyou began.
     "I explained about that!"
     "As a matter of fact, you didn't really explain anything," Ukyou
shot back.
     "Um," Ryouga said timidly.
     "Look, I didn't know that witch would show up last night!" Reiko
snapped.
     "So you say," Ukyou said tightly, leaning over the counter.
"But she did show up.  So don't you think you owe us an explanation?"
     "Um ... guys?" Ryouga put in.
     "I told you I had to talk to this Sasuke guy ..." Reiko gritted.
     "Great, but he's dead.  So now what?"
     "How would I know?"
     "What's that mean?  You should know if anyone would!"
     "Look, you cross-dressing weirdo ..."  Ukyou's eyebrow
twitched dangerously.
     "Pardon?" she asked quietly, knuckles whitening as she
clenched her fists around her spatulas.  Ryouga leapt to his feet quickly
and leaned in between them.
     "Um, guys?" he said brightly.  "Maybe we should sit down and
talk about this?"  Grudgingly, both girls pulled back until they were on
opposite sides of the counter.  Ryouga sighed with relief.
     "Better," he said.  "Now.  Reiko, can't you tell us what you
wanted with Sasuke?"  She scowled, looking away.
     "Hey, this isn't for my benefit, you know," she grumbled.  "I'm
just trying to fulfill an old man's dying request.  It's not my fault he put
so many conditions on things."
     "Old man?" Ukyou asked suspiciously.  Reiko crossed her arms and
sighed.
     "He was a priest.  I lived with him from when I was really
young," Reiko explained grudgingly.  "He taught me about magic, and
how to control my powers."
     "What's he have to do with Sasuke?" Ryouga asked.
     "He instructed me to get something from the Kunou estate.
Something that once belonged to my family.  He said Sasuke could help
me get it back."
     "Well, that's obviously not going to happen now," Ukyou said.
"Can't you just go talk to Kunou?  If he has something that belongs to
you ..."
     "I already told you, I'm not convinced I can trust this Kunou
guy.  And the old man didn't seem to trust him either, or else why tell
me to go through his servant?"  Reiko shook her head wearily.  "No
way.  I'm just going to have to figure out another way to approach
this."  Ukyou shrugged and moved down the counter, and Ryouga
followed.
     "Hey, Ukyou," he murmured when they were out of earshot.
     "Hmmm?"
     "I was thinking.  Nabiki's pretty good at handling Kunou.
Maybe you could ask her to try to find out about this thing for Reiko,
you know, without being too obvious about it."  Ukyou gave him a look
he couldn't decipher.
     "Ryouga, you're being too trusting," she said at last.  "We
don't really know anything about this girl, except that she brought
trouble with her."  Ryouga squirmed.
     "Hey, I'm sure she didn't mean to," he protested.  "Anyway, it
seems to be important to her.  And don't you think it's sort of noble,
her trying to carry out someone's last request that way?"  Ukyou
sighed.
     "If that's really what she's doing," she said flatly.  "I think
there's a lot going on here that we don't know about, and if it involves
creatures like those ones we fought before, then this could be more
trouble than we can handle."  Ryouga remembered Wynneth, and the
sensual menace that she had exuded.  Yes, if there were more like her,
then that certainly constituted a serious threat.  Even if Wynneth had not
survived, though, he wasn't sure it was wise to ignore the threat and
hope everything just went away.
     He'd already seen what those things were capable of.
     "She's going to keep after this, Ukyou, whether we help or not.
I just think we can avoid a lot of trouble if we get involved, instead of
letting her blunder around.  And she might know some things that would
help us if those things DID come back.  Last night, against that vampire,
I have to tell you that things weren't going so well.  That one was ...
different that the ones we fought."  Ukyou sighed, shaking her head.
     "All right, all right," she grumbled.  "I'll ask Nabiki about feeling
out the situation."  Ryouga grinned.
     "Thanks ..."
     "If."  She held up one finger, eyes narrowed.  "And only if ... Reiko
spills the beans about this whole thing."  Ukyou fixed Ryouga with a
glare.  "If she wants our help, she's going to have to trust us a little bit
too.  Right?"  He considered that.
     "Sounds reasonable," he said.
     "Good," Ukyou said flatly.  "Then I'll start lunch, and you can
start trying to talk some sense into Miss Personality."  She walked
away, and Ryouga watched her stiff back, puzzled.
     Ukyou really didn't like Reiko much.
     He wondered why.

***

     Tragus slung the corpse into the bathtub with a groan.  Even in his
present, slightly shrivelled state, this guy was heavy.  Tossing his long
hair back out of his face impatiently, he straightened and caught sight of
himself in the mirror.
     It still took some getting used to, looking into a mirror and
seeing this human female's face looking back.  He tilted his head from
side to side, watching as they sultry beauty in the mirror did the same.
     "Damn, I'm hot," he snickered, striking a pose.  Then the
humour faded from his face.  Hot, maybe, but not smart.
     What a sucker, he thought sourly.  I can't believe my luck.  Blood
will restore me, Tragus.  Right.  What the hell use is that hideous,
burned up mess to me?  All that damn trouble for NOTHING!
     He'd enticed a husky young man into the alley beside the building,
making sure that they were out of sight before draining the hapless
fool's chi.  After that, the main course hadn't been able to put up any
kind of fight.  Tragus had half-carried, half dragged the rather large man
through the back door and to the elevator.  He'd had a story ready in
case he'd encountered anyone on the way, but fortunately he'd made it
back to the apartment without meeting anyone.
     Still, there were no guarantees that he'd been completely
unobserved.  It had been a huge risk, and for what?
     Say it with me, he thought blackly.  Nothing.
     Heaving a heavy sigh, he peered out into the bedroom.  The ruined
husk that had been a beautiful Aerkinma Lady lay on its back on the
bed.  Blood stains joined the other unmentionable substances on the
sheets that were now, frankly, way beyond help.
     Just to be safe, Tragus had stood well back when he'd pushed
the whimpering victim onto Wynneth's supine form.  She'd let loose
with a weird, whining growl that had set Tragus's skin crawling, and
begun clawing at the horrified young man.  It seemed she'd found some
last reserve of strength in her frantic need; nonetheless, Tragus could
see as he watched that if the victim had been able to resist, Wynneth
never would have been able to subdue him.
     But his muscles had still been limp and strengthless, and
Wynneth had clawed at his back frantically, forcing her ruined, twisted
mouth to his neck.  Blood had fountained, he had cried out, and then ...
     And then, for what seemed like a very long time, nothing but
horrible slurping noises as Wynneth gorged herself on fresh blood.
     Now, Tragus stared at her, filled with revulsion.  She lay on her
back again, sunken chest moving up and down shakily, drying blood
smeared across her face and neck.
     "Boy, I could have done without seeing that," he said flatly as
he stepped into the room.
     "I ... wouldn't have guesssed ... you were the squeamish type,"
Wynneth gasped out with effort, her once silky voice still hoarse and
raspy.  She rolled her head so that she could peer at him with that one
good eye.  Tragus crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall,
scowling.
     "It's this human body," he sniffed.  "The stomach is very touchy.  I
can't enjoy the pleasures of tearing apart my prey like I could  before.
Entrails make me queasy now.  It's embarrassing."
     "Poor dear," Wynneth hissed.  "But mightn't that ... pretty shell
hold other ... sweeter compensations?"  Tragus stiffened.  Was she
rubbing his nose in this?  How dare she taunt him!
     "You know, I very easily could have gotten caught," he
muttered angrily.  "And then where would you be?  It wasn't very
smart of you to lie to me like that."  Wynneth's gurgling laugh wheezed
out in short, painful bursts, and Tragus snorted.
     "Oh, that's funny, is it?" he asked shortly.
     "Tragusssss, my dear ... partner.  I did not lie, sssweet Tragusss.
Oh, no.  No liessss ..."
     "You said that blood would heal you," Tragus spat.  "Well, I've
got news for you.  If you showed up on the Red Plains looking like that,
not even the most desperate Borgunma would give you a second look.
You look like something a dragon hacked up after a prolonged snack!"
That gurgling sound came again, and it occurred to Tragus suddenly
that Wynneth did, at least, seem a little stronger.  She confirmed his
hunch moments later by struggling painfully to a sitting position,
hunching over herself, brittle swatches of black hair from one side of
her head hanging in her face.
     "Patienccccce," she crooned.  "That little appetizer has helped
somewhat.  Yesssss.  I can control my need now, at leassst for ... a
time.  We must act ... quickly."
     "Meaning what?" Tragus asked suspiciously.
     "Why, Tragussss.  Mussst I teach you ... how to treat a lady?  I
need more ... more blood."  He blinked.
     "More?  You want me to haul ANOTHER poor sucker in
here?  Dammit, Wynneth, I got lucky with the first one!  Two is really
pushing our luck!"  She shook and quivered, but remained upright,
wiping absently at the drying blood around her mouth with one claw-
like hand.
     "Another?" she hissed.  "Oh, you misunderssstand me."  He
cocked his head cautiously.
     "Well, thank ..."
     "At leasst ten more," she croaked, rolling her eye in its socket so she
could see him.  "Perhapssss ... as many as fifteen."  He gaped.
     "WHAT?" he blurted.  She raised her face to him, the mostly intact
side pulling into a mockery of a smile.
     "Come, come," she gurgled.  "Don't be cheap, Tragusss.  The
damage issss ... sssevere.  Drasssstic measuresss are ... called for."  He
regained control with difficulty.
     "Yeah, okay, but FIFTEEN!"  Come on!"  He stalked over
to the bed, glaring down at her.  "How the hell am I supposed to
manage that without getting caught?"  She reached out one withered
hand, cackling as he pulled away.
     "Yesssss," she nodded, "this place isss ... unsssuitable.  We
must move to a less ... public location, before my hunger ... overtakes
my control again."
     "For instance?" he asked, still suspicious.  Wynneth hunched
over in pain, shuddering as a series of dry coughs racked her body.
     "I have ... a plan," she gasped when she could speak again.
"But we mussst go ... quickly ..."

***

     Lilla smiled warmly as the lithe young man rode his bicycle past her.
She caught his eye and held his gaze, licking her lips suggestively.  The
young man didn't try to look away, not until he ran into the back of a
parked car with an awful clatter.  She sighed happily as the disoriented
cyclist climbed hastily off his butt and retrieved his bicycle, then quickly
rode away.
     That was diverting, she thought wistfully.  And a lot more
interesting than what she was stuck doing.
     She turned her attention back to the building across the street
reluctantly.  It was still just as unprepossessing as it had been thirty
seconds ago.  Tragus, in the form of this Hinako woman, hadn't
appeared yet, and likely wouldn't for a while yet.  After all, he should
still be at the local high school playing teacher.  With all those young,
healthy, hormone charged young men and women ...
     She sighed again, cursing Tisa for making her do this instead of
getting one of the corporation's human operatives.  But the humans
were, of necessity, kept in the dark on those occasions when they were
used for surveillance purposes.  Tisa claimed she needed someone in
the know to check up on Tragus.
     Lilla knew better.  There was no way things were as simple as
they'd been made out to be.  Tisa hadn't been very forthcoming about
her early morning meeting with their esteemed Lady, but there was no
hiding the truth from Lilla's experienced eyes.  The spring in Tisa's step,
the sparkle in her eyes, and that certain indefinable air of longing all
pointed clearly toward one inescapable conclusion.
     Riana hadn't given her besotted bodyguard an order.  She'd
asked for a PERSONAL favour.  And asked nicely.
     Lilla shook her head, her glossy, shoulder length bob brushing
lightly over her shoulders.  Oh, she could just see how it would have
gone.  Summoned to Riana's bedroom early, Tisa would have been
presented not with the icily competent Lady of the Aerkinma, but with a
warm, troubled beauty, fresh from her bed, clad only in ...
     White silk, she decided.  Something loose and flowing.  Yes, that's
what I would have worn.  Well, if I had her colouring and ... well,
anyway.
     So Tisa would be faced not only with the focus of her duty, but also
the object of her desire.  From there, it would have been a piece of
cake.
     Oh, Tisa, Riana would have said with just the right mixture of regal
worry and sultry relief.  There you are.  I need your help ...
     Ah, yes.  The Aerkinma did like their games, and Lilla certainly
didn't disapprove.  After all, using sex to manipulate others was her
best trick.  What she did disapprove of was Tisa being so damned
gullible.  How many times had Lilla discussed this sort of thing with her?
How many times had she warned her dear friend against being blinded
by her passions?  But the idiot just wouldn't listen, making it all the
worse by assuming that because she was aware of the risk, she was
immune.
     But the risk was very real.  If Riana had issued a direct order,
that was one thing.  But Lilla knew that wasn't how this particular game
was played.  Riana, probably standing close enough that her unbound
hair brushed lightly against bare skin, and her hot breath trickled into a
delicate ear, would let it be known what she wanted done without ever
explicitly ordering Tisa to break any rules of engagement.  That way, if
they were caught, Riana would be insulated from the consequences.
And Tisa, poor, loyal, besotted Tisa, would willingly take the blame to
protect her Lady.
     Lilla resented the situation, but it was an old, familiar resentment,
without much heat.  This was the way it was, after all.  The Aerkinma
manipulated those weaker than themselves for their own purposes.
Lilla was a survivor of many such campaigns, having learned how to
make herself indispensable to, or at least desired by, the parties most
likely to win.  Callie and Tisa had cultivated similar instincts over time,
but now Tisa's devotion to Riana was impairing her usually impeccable
judgement.
     And that was bad.  Just how bad would depend on just what
kind of plot the Ice Queen was hatching.  Lilla couldn't tell much from
her assignment, though.  She was to wait for Tragus to show and
monitor his activities.  Whoopee.
     She leaned against the bench at the bus stop, her attention
wandering again.  Even with a simple masking spell in place to hide her
otherworldly features, she knew she was beautiful enough to attract
attention.  She revelled in the furtive looks she got from passers-by,
occasionally stretching or bending over to give some particularly likely
specimen a thrill.  This was her element, not being forced to keep to the
shadows, isolated from all this warm, throbbing, vital human need.  A
sly smile tugged at her sulky mouth as she considered how easy it
would be to turn her attention on one of these locals, beguiling him with
a look, a gesture, a word.  And then ...
     She blinked.  Someone emerged from the foyer of Tragus's
building just as a taxi was pulling up.  Her heart began to race as she
recognized the leggy beauty with the windblown mane of tawny hair as
none other than her quarry.
     Tragus!  But he should still have been at school!  Her eyes
narrowed as she saw him retreat into the foyer, coming back out
supporting someone else.  The other person was cloaked in a
voluminous black hooded poncho affair, and Lilla couldn't discern the
details of the stranger's face in the deep shadows of the hood.
Whoever it was, though, was in pretty bad shape.  Tragus's companion
leaned on him heavily as they slowly made their way to the taxi ...
     Taxi?
     "Damn," Lilla hissed.  She made her way quickly toward where
she'd parked, her pulse still racing.  She couldn't afford to let them get
a head start.  Tragus was home when he shouldn't have been, and now
he was going somewhere with a mysterious hooded figure.
     This boring, routine assignment might just turn out to be
something worthwhile after all.

***

     Kunou had given Nabiki keys and the access code to the
estate's security system so willingly that she was disappointed.  Still,
she supposed that after revealing the darkest family secrets, handing
over the keys to the place was nothing more than a formality.
     Having access to the house, she'd figured to stop by and check
out some of the books they'd brought up from the catacombs while she
waited for Kunou to get home from school.  When she walked into the
main study, though, she was surprised to find Kunou already there.
The large, hardwood desk was covered with loose papers and the
musty old tomes that she'd been planning to peruse, one of the books
lying open in front of an uncharacteristically bedraggled Kunou.  He
looked up as she came in, frowning slightly.
     "You should be in school," he pointed out.  She walked over to
the desk and dropped her satchel on the floor, pulling up a chair
without waiting to be invited.
     "I could say the same about you," she pointed out.  "What's
up?"  He leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose
carefully.
     "I was doing some reading," he told her.  "In case you are
interested, I did find references to sakaba-tou like the one we saw
yesterday."
     "You mean the sword with the reversed blade?" she asked.
     "Indeed.  One was named Shin-Uchi, and was wielded by an
ex-assassin named Himura Kenshin in the last century.  Apparently, he
did some great service for the inner circle of the time, and they ended
up with custody of the sword after his death.  The other is called
Gassan, and unlike Shin-Uchi, it is inherently magical.  It is rumoured to
have been forged by demons."
     "Wow," Nabiki said.  "Now tell me that you spent the morning
looking up this information on a whim."  He grimaced, working his
shoulders to loosen them.
     "No, I merely came across the information while searching for
something else.  You should take note of this book, however.  It may
prove useful in cataloguing artifacts."  He tapped the book in front of
him, and she nodded.
     "Got it.  So, what WERE you looking for?" she asked
innocently.  As she expected, he evaded the question.
     "Just a ... hunch," he answered vaguely.  She decided to let it
ride for the time being.  She didn't want him any more defensive than
necessary when she broached this next subject.  This discussion
promised to be difficult enough as it was.
     "Well, since you're here, and I'm here, now would be an
excellent time for us to talk."  He regarded her warily.
     "Indeed?  And what particularly is it that you wish to talk
about?"  Willing herself to look earnest, she leaned forward, bracing
her chin in her hands and her elbows on the desk.
     "I've been giving this a lot of thought, and here's what I've
come up with.  I think it's time you gave serious consideration to
forming a new inner circle."  His expression didn't change at all.  He
simply pushed the chair back, rose, and walked over to the window.
Nabiki watched his back carefully, waiting for him to respond.  She
wasn't at all certain how he would react to such a suggestion, but she
figured that it was high time she broached the subject with him.  And
maybe, just maybe, she could slip in some of what she'd learned earlier
from his mother without arousing his suspicions.
     "Well?" she asked at last as he continued to simply stare out
the window, hands clasped behind his back.
     "I might have known," he said evenly, not turning around.
"You have no confidence in my ability to handle this duty."  She
blinked.
     "Excuse me?" she sighed.  He turned, glaring imperiously at her
while the golden sunlight cast his face in harsh lines.
     "I know you think me a buffoon, Nabiki, but I had hoped that
after all you've seen you could manage to have some minimal amount of
faith in me."  She shot to her feet, planting her palms flat on the desk.
     "Listen, Kunou-baby," she snapped.  "Can we make this not
about your ego for a second?"
     "Ego?  You dare ..."
     "Yes, ego!  Look, how many of your ancestors had to carry
this thing all alone, with no help whatsoever?  Huh?  How many?"  The
muscles along the edge of his jaw writhed under the skin as he clenched
his teeth, but he made no reply.
     "That's right," she continued, softening her tone slightly.  "None.
They all had help.  They had the resources of an inner circle to
call on.  What do you have?  A glow-in-the-dark sword, a
devastatingly clever classmate, and an ego the size of the Tokyo
Tower.  Not a bad start, but let's face it.  The enemy knows where to
find you.  We, on the other hand, know almost nothing about them.
You need to start treating this thing as something more than your own
personal crusade, Kunou.  From what you've told me, it was always a
team effort in the past.  We need that kind of strength again."
     "Indeed?" he asked frostily.  "And just what would you have
me do?  Advertise in the classifieds?  It took generations to form the
nucleus of our forces.  Such a group of people may no longer exist, and
even if they do finding them will be nearly impossible."  Nabiki
straightened, tugging fussily at her skirt.
     "Oh, I think you're being a pessimist," she smiled.  "After all,
there was a group of people that did pretty well in a fracas with a large
group of demons.  At Furinkan.  Remember?"  She saw his eyes widen
as her point sank home.
     "You ... can't be serious," he spluttered.  She cocked her head.
     "No?  Why not?  We personally know a group of very talented,
very POWERFUL martial artists.  Think about it.  If there was
a fight, wouldn't you like to be able to call on Shampoo and Mousse?
Ryouga?  Ukyou, Akane, Ran ..."
     "Not him," Kunou broke in.  She crossed her arms and looked
up at him.
     "Why not?  Ranma's a hell of a fighter, and his techniques ..."
     "I will not have him here, and that is final."  She sighed.
     "Kunou, if you're serious about your duty, then you are simply
going to have to put it ahead of your personal feelings sometimes.
Besides," she added evenly, "I think it's unfair for you to hold a grudge
against Ranma for what happened to Kodachi."
     "Life," he said tightly, "is seldom fair."  She sighed.  Well, he had her
there.
     "All I'm saying is consider it," she went on patiently.  "We
don't even know if any of them would agree to help, but first you need
to decide what you want to do."  And if you make the wrong decision,
she added silently, I'll just have to nudge you back on course.
     "I suppose it would do no harm to consider the matter," he
grumbled at last.  She beamed.  At least she had him thinking about it
now.
     "Great," she said.  "In the meantime, I want to try to run down
some leads.  They're kind of shaky, but I think they're worth looking
into.  So where's your computer?"  Kunou looked at her quizzically.
     "We do not have one," he said.  She just stared in disbelief.
     "What?  Are you serious?"
     "I do not like them," he admitted.  "And Kodachi had ... no
patience for such complex things."  Nabiki was aghast.
     "Kunou, how can you be rich and pretentious without the very
latest computer gear?" she asked, thoroughly irritated.  "First thing
tomorrow, I'm going to order up some stuff we need."
     "Expensive "stuff", no doubt," he sighed.  "And how is all of
this expensive equipment going to help us fight rapacious demons?"
     "Just trust me," Nabiki told him.  "Knowledge is power, et cetera.
 Well, this is just great.  Now I'm going to have to go to the library to
do this research."
     "My heart bleeds, I assure you," Kunou said wryly.
     "Well, I'm not doing research on an empty stomach," she
informed him.  "Let's do lunch.  And it's on you, of course."  He shook
his head ruefully.
     "Of course," he said.  "I would have expected nothing less."

***

     Sweat dampened the palms of her hands as she stood outside
the door.
     Just knock, she told herself.  Do it before you lose your nerve
and run away.  You made yourself come all the way here and wait for
him.  You watched him go in.  Don't back out now.
     Swallowing hard, she reached out and knocked timidly.
Moments later, the door opened and he was standing in front of her.
When she finally spoke, her voice didn't shake; she was quite proud of
that fact.
     "Akira."  On the train, she'd wondered what she'd say to him
when she finally saw him again.  Walking from the station, she'd
wondered what she would do if he didn't still have his apartment near
the school.  And now, all she could think was that the man she had
once loved, and then feared, had gone totally bonkers.
     "Well, well, WELL," he breathed.  "Looky who it is, ya.  Da
little woman herself.  Didn' t'ink I evah be seein' you crawl out from
undah ya rock again.  To what do I owe da dubious pleasure `a dis
visit?"  His contempt washed across her like a ripe stench, and she
found herself wanting to cower, to plead, to explain.
     But she also felt something else, something unfamiliar,
something she'd rarely felt when dealing with her husband back in the
days when they'd still spoken.
     Anger.
     "We need to talk," she said evenly.  He laughed out loud.
     "Talk?  WE need ta talk?  I don' need ta talk, wahine.  Da Big
Kahuna, he don' nevah need ta talk to da likes'a you.  Be a good l'il
wahine, now, an' crawl back undah dat rock where you been hidin' all
dese years," he said, a smug grin plastered on his face.
     Yes, that was definitely anger she was feeling.  And it felt hot,
and primal, and GOOD.
     She pushed past him into the apartment, savouring the shocked
look on his face.  She took in the posters of Hawaii and grass-skirt clad
girls in a glance, the tacky plastic coconut lamp, the expensive leather
recliner.  Stomping to the middle of the floor, she turned, crossed her
arms, and waited.  The disbelief faded from his features quickly, his
face flushing with an ugly rage.
     "Hey," he said quietly.  "I leave you alone all dis time, on
account `a old times an' all dat.  But you gonna make me mad, l'il
wahine.  An' you don' wanna be makin' me mad."  She raised her chin
slightly and met his gaze with narrowed eyes.
     "You might be more menacing if you took that ridiculous thing
off your head," she said, biting off her words viciously.  Again, she saw
him falter, taken off guard.  The palm tree, the tan, the ugly clothes and
the bad accent ... THIS was the man she'd once married?
     He slammed the door behind him, advancing on her slowly.
"Look ..." he began threateningly.  She would not be put off, though.
Now that she was here, everything she'd held in for so long was
desperately seeking release, and there was nothing this caricature of a
man could do to stop her.
     "Where were you, Akira?" she asked, and although her voice
was low her tone stopped him in his tracks.  She stared him down,
righteous in her restrained fury.  "Where were you when they killed our
daughter?"  His mouth opened and closed silently, like a landed fish
trying for one last breath.
     "Well?" she snapped.  "What's this?  Nothing to say?  How is
that possible?  You always had all the answers, Akira.  I was to keep
quiet because you had all the answers.  Well answer me now, damn
you!  Where were you?"  Even as the irresistible wave of emotion
drove her on, she noted his tanned face flushing, growing mottled with
anger.  She couldn't bring herself to care, though.  Not anymore.
Nothing could be worse than the knowledge that her weakness had let
this man keep her from her family.
     "You shut up," he snarled, and she noted distantly that his
accent seemed to have vanished.  Buoyed by the heady release of grief
and anger, she stepped closer to him.
     "You sneered at me, Akira.  You said I was unworthy because
I was afraid.  Well, I WAS afraid.  But you ... what about you?"  She
felt the trembling in her legs, marvelled that she was saying all this.  But
it was too late to stop now.  Even if she wanted to, there was no
holding back the tide.
     "Yukio."  The warning in his tone was plain.  Just like the good
old days.
     "No, tell me!  You had power!  You could have done
something, but look at you!  Once, you could have protected her, but
not now.  Now you're nothing but a bad joke ..."  His hand flashed out,
the large flat palm colliding with her cheek with a loud crack.  Her head
rocked back, and through the pain she found herself insanely
remembering those large hands on her body, the gentle way they'd
touched her when they were first married.  They stared at each other in
the ensuing silence, her eyes tearing as she raised her hand to her
stinging face.  Akira seemed uncertain suddenly, as if he'd surprised
himself.
     "It's all happening again, isn't it?" she whispered, bereft.  He just
stared at her.  "Isn't it?" she asked again, louder.
     "I ... don't ..."
     "We still have one son, Akira," she said, her voice slightly
unsteady now.  "And they'll come for him someday.  They won't be
happy until they've killed Tatewaki, too."  His face brightened, and he
stepped back.
     "Tatchi?" he asked.  "Tatchi's a good boy, ya!  Chip off de ol'
block!"  It was frightening, watching him slip away even as they spoke.
     "Damn you!" she shrieked.  "He's all alone!  Do you know
who he's got helping him?  A girl!  A classmate!  What is she going to
be able to do when they come for him?  He's our son, Akira, and we
have to do something!  Can't you understand that?"  Akira cocked his
head as if she'd just done a particularly interesting trick.
     "Tatchi's a good boy," he repeated, a little sullenly.  "But he got
ta learn his lessons.  He make his bed, now he gonna lie in it."
     "What does that mean?" she wailed.  "This isn't his fault!  It's
YOUR fault!  He's in danger in that house, and he won't leave because
YOU told him again and again how important it was ..."  She trailed off,
feeling her heart sink into her belly.  Akira wasn't listening.  He'd never
listened to her before, and he clearly wasn't about to start.
     "Doesn't this matter to you anymore?" she asked plaintively.
"Don't you care what happens?"
     "Ever'ting gonna be awright," he said, his gaze intense.  She
stepped back, uncertain.
     "Y-you mean ..."
     "Ever'ting!  Gonna be!  Awright!" he crowed.  "I know dat
t'ing, baby!  You know how?"  She shook her head warily.  He
grinned, an edgy, dangerous grin.
     "Beee-cause, da Tree tell me," he said in a low, conspiratorial
voice.  She stared at him.
     "What?" she asked.  He waggled his head, making the little
palm tree on the top of his head sway.
     "Da Tree," he repeated patiently.  He walked over and
collapsed into the ugly neon recliner, reaching back to retrieve a
bottle of something from the shelf behind him.
     "Ya see," he said, spinning the cap off the squarish bottle, "da
Tree serve da Eye.  Da Eye, she a harsh mistress, see.  Before, I din't
serve da Eye well, an' so da Eye, she punish me.  But now I seen da
light.  Da only path ta peace be t'roo da Eye.  Da Eye dat sees.  Da
Eye dat knows.  An' now I serve da Eye, so I don' worry none `bout
dem bad t'ings."  She watched, numb, as he took a long pull from the
bottle, exhaling loudly when he finally pulled it away.  The tree bobbed
contentedly on his head, its tiny fronds waving at her in the still air.  Join
us, it seemed to whisper.  I serve the Eye, Yukio, so why not get down
with me?  Worship the Tree, baby, `cause it's all downhill from here ...
     "I'm not going to let them kill our son," she said softly.  It was
the only thing left to say.  Akira lay back in the chair, legs splayed
untidily, garish shirt askew.
     "What you gonna do, l'il wahine?" he asked contemptuously.
"You ain't wit' da Tree.  Dem t'ings gonna eat you all up an' spit out
you shrivelled l'il soul."  She nodded.
     "Maybe," she whispered.  "Maybe they'll kill me.  But they
can't hurt me worse than I've already been hurt.  This time I'm not
going to fail."  She turned and walked to the door, head down.
     "You wastin' you time!" he shouted at her back.  "Dere ain't
nuttin' you can do!  Da day gonna come, Yukio!  You'll see!"  She
opened the door and stood there for a moment as he ranted on.
     "Da Tree serves, an' tells me all dem t'ings!  See, da Eye
gonna call forth dat fire, ya!  Blazin' white fire dat gonna burn dem all!
Gonna burn up da bad l'il boy-killers!  Gonna burn up da bad spider-
women!  Gonna burn up ALLLLLLL dem unbelievers, baby!"  He
cackled wildly, and she felt tears burning her eyes again.  Reaching
blindly into her purse, she fished around until she found the small, cold
object she'd put in there earlier.  She pulled it out, keeping it hidden in
her clenched fist, and turned.
     "Here," she said softly.  "I've been meaning to give this back to
you.  I just never had a chance."  She tossed it lightly at him, not
watching it hit the floor and bounce towards him.  Instead, she turned
quickly and went out, closing the door behind her.  She stood outside,
feeling the tears spill over, feeling a door somewhere inside her finally
slam all the way shut.
     Good-bye, Akira, she said silently.  I wish ... I wish ...
     I wish things had turned out differently.
     Stifling a sob, she walked quickly away.

***

     Akira stared dumbfounded at the tiny gold circle that lay
gleaming on the floor by his foot.  He couldn't believe she'd kept it, all
this time.  He'd thrown his into the ocean on a beach in Hawaii long
ago.  The Tree hadn't liked it.  Slowly, he reached down with his free
hand and scooped it up off the floor.  It looked small and delicate in his
palm, and he was surprised at the sudden lump in his throat.
     Boy, he thought numbly, that Yukio.  She always knew how to
get me.  Shakily, he raised the bottle to his mouth and took another
long drink.  Cheap scotch burned his throat as it slid down like liquid
fire.
     Then he hurled the ring away violently, watching it ricochet off the
wall and vanish down the hallway.  He reached up and tweaked the
Tree fondly.
     "Hey," he whispered.  "Do me a favour, ya?  When da Eye call
dat fire up ... burn her first."

***

     Ranma bounced on the balls of his feet, and Nodoka could
scarcely contain her amusement.
     "And you're sure it's okay?" he asked for the tenth time.
     "Ranma," she said patiently.  "Yes.  I am certain.  To be honest, I
hadn't expected you to embrace the idea so eagerly."  He shuffled in
place and grinned boyishly.
     "Well, maybe I'm just getting used to the idea," he said
sheepishly.  "I mean, after what you said last night, I thought about it a
lot.  And Akane did seem kind of quiet today.  Anyway, this will make
her smile."  His eyes shone when he said that, and she felt a pang of
love for her son, emerging clumsily but with fierce determination from
his boyhood.  It was obvious that the very thought of being able to
make Akane smile lit up his soul.  He was going to be a fine man, one
that would make her proud.
     What more could a mother hope for?
     "Yes, I daresay it will," she said warmly.  "And I intend to
speak with Soun and your father tonight, as I promised.  You two
won't have to hide your feelings any longer."  Ranma looked at the
floor for a moment, then lifted his gaze to meet hers.
     "Mom," he said, "you're the greatest.  Have I ever told you
that?"  She felt a warmth spread through her chest, and she smiled
fondly at her only child.
     "No," she said softly.  "But it was worth waiting to hear you
say it.  Now."  She clapped her hands smartly.  "You, young Romeo,
should go find your lady."  He grinned in an utterly endearing fashion,
ducking his head.
     "Yeah, I guess I should," he said.  She stepped close and
reached out to gently brush one unruly lock of hair away from his eyes.
     "You're a good man, Ranma," she whispered.  "You two are
lucky to have each other."  He fidgeted, but smiled back.
     "Yeah, I know," he replied.  She pushed at his strong
shoulders, gentle but insistent.
     "Now go," she instructed.  He turned to go, then turned back.
     "You're really sure ..." he began.
     "Go!" she repeated.  He went.  Nodoka sighed, shaking her
head.  They grow up so fast, she told herself ruefully.  Even now, in the
short time since she'd become re-acquainted with her son, she could
see him maturing.  Looking around at the garden, she was overcome by
a sudden sense of melancholy.
     I won't miss any more of his life, she told herself.  I want to see
him marry Akane and start a family.  I want to see them love each
other.  And I want to be there for him, for both of them.  I couldn't love
that girl more if she were my own.
     Then suddenly, a haunted face appeared in her thoughts, and
she paused to stare wistfully into the pond.
     Ranko, she thought.  Oh, dear Ranko.  Where have you gone?
Are you happy?  Do you have anyone?  She shook her head, watching
her reflection in the pool ape her.  She wished he could have stayed.
But what would he have thought of Ranma and Akane?  Would he
have been happy for them, or tormented by the spectre of the love he
might have had if things had only been different?
     Come back to us, Ranko, she thought.  I need to know that
you're all right.
     A wandering breeze wafted through the garden, whispering
bittersweet tidings of those absent and lost in her ear.  She breathed its
nostalgic scent deeply, then let it go in one long, slow exhalation.
     Sadness.  Yes, there had been that in their lives, but there was
hope too.  And hope had the power to sustain.  Sadness was the past,
hope the future.  With a gentle smile playing at her lips, she went into
the house and found her way to the kitchen.
     "Auntie," Kasumi said, clearly pleased to see her.  "I didn't
know you were here.  I was just thinking about supper.  Will you be
staying?"
     "Yes, dear," she said, "but you won't need to make any for
Ranma and Akane."
     "Oh?  Why not?" Kasumi asked.  Nodoka smiled.
     "They," she informed the eldest Tendou daughter, "are going on
a date."

***

     Ryouga set the order down on the table, smiling automatically.
When he straightened up, he saw Reiko, still brooding at the corner
table.
     He sighed.  Ukyou had asked him to talk to the secretive girl, but
she hadn't been in a very talkative mood, just sitting at that table as the
afternoon progressed.  Ryouga took a look around and, seeing that the
few customers were all served, went over and sat down across from
the blonde sorceress.
     "So," he said brightly.  She looked up.
     "Why didn't you tell me that Ukyou was a girl?" she asked
flatly.  He blinked.
     "Huh?" he blurted.  "Are you still mad about that?"
     "I don't like looking foolish," she said evenly.  "So tell me ... are you
hiding anything I should know about, Ryouga?"  Blood rushed to his
face.  He really didn't want to tell her about P-chan.  Her sky-blue eyes
narrowed, and she leaned forward.
     "Hey," she said suspiciously.  "You ARE, aren't you?  Are you
really a boy?"  She reached out and poked his chest.  He recoiled.
     "Hey!" he protested. "Of course I am!  Stop that!"  She leaned
back, a tiny twitch playing at the corner of her mouth, and he realized
he was being had.
     "So," she said.  He sighed.  This girl was so strange, hot one
moment and cool the next.  He couldn't figure her out.
     "So," he said.  "Been thinking about your problem?"  She
propped her chin in her hand and look out at the street.
     "Yes," she admitted.  "I'm not sure what to do next."
     "Well, I might have an idea," he ventured.  Her gaze swung
back to him, suddenly intense.
     "Don't fool around, Ryouga," she said sharply.  He held up his
hands.
     "Just an idea," he said quickly.  "But it's better than nothing.  Well,
anyway, it's like this.  Ukyou is friends with Nabiki, who knows Kunou
pretty well.  And, well, Ukyou is willing to ask Nabiki to check into this
thing for you, casually you understand.  But only if you give us some
details, something to work with."  Reiko peered intently into his eyes,
making him uncomfortable.
     "Ukyou doesn't trust me," she said at last.
     "That's not it," he protested, even though it was.  She gave him
a crooked grin.
     "That's all right, Ryouga," she told him.  "I guess I can't blame
her.  This whole thing is pretty strange, after all.  So, you think this
Nabiki can check out the lay of the land without giving things away,
huh?"
     "That's the plan," he nodded.
     "And you're not worried that it might be dangerous if he figures
out what she's up to?"
     "Dangerous?" Ryouga asked, incredulous.  "Kunou?  You
don't know Kunou.  He's ... well, he thinks of himself as a real old-time
samurai.  Truth is, he's kind of a flake, pretentious, full of himself, but
still a pretty good swordsman.  He wouldn't hurt a woman, though.
The fact is, he considers himself kind of a lady's man."
     "The old man must have thought he was dangerous, or at least
unreliable," Reiko pressed.  "Otherwise, why tell me not to reveal
myself to him?"  Ryouga shrugged.
     "I don't know," he confessed.  You tell me.  I don't know
anything about this old man.  How did he know Kunou?"  Reiko sat
back, brow furrowed, and for a moment Ryouga didn't think she was
going to answer.
     "I don't know," she sighed at last.  "There were things he didn't
tell me.  A lot of things."  This last was delivered with such bitterness
that Ryouga felt the urgent need to be somewhere else, like an outsider
witnessing a family spat.  Reiko turned her attention back to him,
though, searching his face as if looking for answers there.
     "So what happened to him?" Ryouga asked finally, unnerved
by her close regard.  "I mean, you keep saying ..."
     "He's dead," she said flatly.  He swallowed nervously.
     "I, uh, gathered that," he stammered.  "I'm sorry, that is ..."
     "He was a priest, like I said" she continued in a low, even voice.
"He taught me about magic, and spirits, and demons.  The whole
unseen world that's all around us.  I inherited the family gift, after all, so
I had to be taught these things."  She laughed, a short, unhappy sound.
     "Gift," she huffed.  "Or curse, depending on how you look at it.
Anyway, even though we didn't always get along, he was a pretty good
teacher.  Even I have to admit that."  She trailed off, and Ryouga
waited to see what would happen.  He wasn't good at this sort of thing.
He wished Ukyou would have tried talking to Reiko.  Ukyou was a
good listener.  People liked talking to her.  She would know what to
say to put Reiko at her ease.  He looked at the girl, her shoulders
hunched slightly as she stared at the table, and couldn't think of
anything to say that didn't sound stupid.
     "They killed him."  Her voice was still quiet, nearly emotionless.
It took Ryouga a second to realize what she'd said.
     "Huh?  Who did?" he asked.  She traced a pattern idly on the
table top with her index finger, her manner one of exaggerated
casualness.
     "Them.  The demons," she said softly.  "At the shrine.  They
came to the shrine and killed him.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe they
didn't need a reason."  Ryouga's discomfort grew.
     "I guess it's lucky you weren't there," he said, desperate to fill
the awkward silence.  She looked up at him, a humourless smile on her
face.
     "Luck?" she asked in a brittle tone.  "Luck had nothing to do
with it.  Apparently, the old fool had a vision, see.  He knew they were
coming for him.  So what do you suppose he did?"  Ryouga shrank
back slightly.
     "Uh ..." he hazarded.
     "Did he run away?" she pressed.  "No.  He stayed to face
them.  His duty, he probably would have said.  But."  She held up one
finger, cocking her head.  "BUT.  Did he arrange to have his student,
the heir to a powerful sorcerous legacy, there to help him?  No.  Oh,
no.  In fact, he arranged for her to be gone when they arrived.  So
she'd be safe, see.  Because her power is so important that her survival
had to be assured."  She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.
     "You'd think being a sorceress would be something special,
wouldn't you, Ryouga?" she asked.  "Well, let me tell you something.
Sometimes, I really hate it.  I mean, nobody ever asked me if I wanted
this, you know?"  Her eyes shifted from the table to him, and she
stiffened suddenly.
     "Geez, why am I telling you all this?" she asked.
     "Uh, I don't know," he told her weakly.  She shook her head.
     "Just forget all that," she grumbled.  "The only thing that matters
right now is that the old man had one last request, and for some reason
I feel obligated to try and make it happen.  Even though I'm still mad at
him."  She fished around in her bag, and Ryouga reflected that, although
she acted like she hadn't liked her mentor, she sure was going to a lot
of trouble to honour his memory.  Frankly, he just couldn't figure her
out at all.  She went from being outrageously flirtatious to sullen and
brooding seemingly at will.
     Of course, not being able to figure women out was nothing new
to him.
     Finally, she found what she was looking for and straightened
up.  Ryouga looked at the folded paper in her hand curiously.
     "Do you know what this is?" she asked him.  He shrugged.
     "It looks like a letter."
     "Exactly right," she nodded.  "It's a letter.  The old man sent
me on an errand the night he died, and that errand ended up taking me
most of the night.  At the end of the line, I found this letter.  Addressed
to me."  She waved it gently in front of her face as if fanning herself.
     "Uh ..." Ryouga began.
     "Cute, huh?" Reiko broke in with a tight smile.  "He made sure
I was safe when they came for him.  And do you know why?"
     "Well ..."
     "I'll tell you why," she went on, ignoring him.  "Because,
apparently, I have to survive and fulfill my destiny.  My destiny."  She
laughed bitterly.
     "Not that I have any idea what my destiny is," she said softly,
staring at the table.  "But apparently it's more important than the life of
an old priest.  At least he thought so."  Ryouga squirmed in his seat,
watching as Reiko seemed to lose herself in her thoughts again, the
letter crumpled absently in one fist.
     "If he knew they were coming," he said hesitantly, "couldn't he
have ... run away?  Or something?"  She scowled.
     "Don't you think I've asked myself that?" she snapped.  "I've
asked myself a million questions about this!  All I know is what's in the
damn letter!  He claims he had to face his destiny, and now I have to
face ... mine."  The anger drained from her delicate features as quickly
as it had come, and she slumped, rubbing absently at the band-aid at
the base of her throat.  She looked tired, and Ryouga remembered that
she'd shown up at Ucchan's early that morning.
     "I don't know why it was so important to him, but I'll get the
damned pendant," she muttered.  "After that, all bets are off.  I'll make
my own destiny."
     "Pendant?" he asked.  She sighed, rubbing her eyes with the
palms of her hands.
     "The thing that's supposed to be somewhere on the Kunou
estate," she said wearily.  "Only, as we already know, this damned
letter tells me not to go to the Kunous, only Sasuke, to ask about it."
     "He really said that, huh?" Ryouga mused.  "It's strange.  I never
would have said that Sasuke was particularly reliable, and he was only
their servant.  So why him and not Kunou?"  She fixed him with a
disbelieving stare.
     "Isn't it obvious?" she asked. "He must have known that the
Kunous were involved with these dark forces, and were working both
sides of the fence."  Ryouga stiffened.
     "Hey," he said defensively.  "I'm not Kunou's greatest fan, but he
wouldn't cooperate with creatures like that, especially not after they
killed his sister!"  Reiko laced her fingers into her bangs, pushing them
back off her forehead while she regarded Ryouga with a critical stare.
     "You really don't get it, do you?" she asked at last.
     "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.  She sighed.
     "Look, Ryouga, I've learned about creatures like this almost
my whole life, so let me tell you some things you may not realize," she
said with a strange half-smile.  "They aren't all ugly monsters like the
ones you fought before.  If they were, it would be a lot easier to spot
them.   No, the dark isn't always frightening.  In fact, it often wears a
beautiful face.  Think about it, Ryouga.  You'd fight a slavering, drooling
monster that tried to rip you apart, that's a no-brainer.  But what if you
were faced with a lush, sensuous beauty like, oh, Wynneth?  She
doesn't look like a monster at all, does she?"  Ryouga remembered the
striking vampiress from the previous night, and had to admit that Reiko
had a point.  If he hadn't known what Wynneth really was, he would
never have suspected her true nature.
     "The lower orders of demon are usually satisfied with just killing
you, Ryouga," Reiko told him, her blue eyes sombre.  "But for the
more powerful ones, like Wynneth, it becomes a game.  They hate
humans, and so it isn't enough to just kill us.  They want to destroy us,
drag us into the dark and make us wallow in it.  They prefer to seduce
their victims, to beguile them.  And some of them are very good at what
they do."  She paused, absently rubbing again at the band-aid on her
throat.
     "Some of their victims are willing to give up their souls, their
humanity for the dark promise these creatures offer, Ryouga," she
continued, shaking her head slightly.  "And others are just drawn in,
deeper and deeper, one step at a time, until one day they find
themselves in so deep that can't get back out.  If they even still want to
escape.  You said this Kunou fancies himself a lady's man, right?"
Ryouga blinked, lost in the gentle cadence of Reiko's voice
     "Uh, yeah," he said.  "So?"  She smiled tolerantly.
     "So?  So this.  Remember I told you about the woman I saw a
couple of times at the estate?  She was very beautiful, Ryouga.  Now,
maybe this Kunou guy would kill a monster on sight, but what about a
gorgeous woman like that?  She comes to him, asking for his help,
playing to his vanity.  She plays with him a little, finds out what he wants
most, then she sees that he gets it.  Probably, she uses herself.  Makes
up a story about being chased, maybe by the same demons that killed
his sister.  He's happy to become her protector.  She's grateful, and
shows her gratitude ... in many ways."  Ryouga felt his face grow warm
at the insinuations, and Reiko's smile widened.
     "Oh, yes," she said knowingly. "She'd make him want her, then
NEED her, and then she could "succumb" to his advances.  Soon, he
wouldn't want to live without her, and then ... why, then she starts
asking for things.  Little things at first, then bigger things.  Maybe a petty
misdemeanour to start, all in good fun.  Things escalate slowly, and then
...  Eventually, maybe there's someone who is a danger to her, someone
she needs ... dealt with.  Get him on that slippery slope, then slowly
lead him down into the depths, so slowly that by the time he realizes it
..."  She trailed off suggestively.
     "Oh," Ryouga said, chastened.  Thinking about it, he could see
Kunou falling into a trap like that.  Easily.
     "You see?  He never knows what he's dealing with until it's too
late," she said, her gaze unfocussed.  "She would revel in soiling his
soul, and then she'd kill him ... if he was lucky."
     "What if he wasn't lucky?" Ryouga asked hesitantly.  Her eyes
came back to his face, and she smiled unpleasantly.
     "Slavery," she suggested.  "Madness.  Any number of horrible
fates.  So you see, the old man may have known, or suspected, that
these Kunous were compromised.  That's the best reason I can come
up with for his restrictions on talking to them."
     "Okay, but even if you're right, what do we do?" Ryouga asked.  "I
mean, how will we find out for sure?"  Reiko rubbed her chin lightly.
     "Find that woman," she said, "and we'll find some answers.
Failing that, I still need to get that pendant from the estate.  Assuming it
isn't already gone."
     "What exactly is this pendant you keep talking about?" Ryouga
asked.  "Is it important?"  Reiko stretched slowly, her arms extended
over her head, and Ryouga tried not to notice the way her thin cotton t-
shirt pulled tight against her breasts.
     "I'm not entirely certain," she yawned.  "But first things first.
We've got to find the thing, which means we've got to figure out the
situation over there at the Kunou place.  Do you think, if you tell Ukyou
what I told you, that she'll agree to talk to her friend about this?"
Ryouga thought for a moment.
     "I think so," he said at last.  "I'll ask her, anyway.  Nabiki
knows Kunou as well as anyone, so if something strange is going on,
she should know."  Reiko smiled.
     "Thanks, Ryouga.  I just want to get this over with, you know?
Uh, oh.  Your boss is calling."  He blinked, then turned to see Ukyou
waving at him.  A new customer had come in and was waiting for
service.
     "Oops.  I gotta go.  Talk to you later," he said, getting up.
Reiko stopped him, a serious look on her face.
     "Ryouga, just remember what I said," she told him.  "This
woman could have your friend's soul in the palm of her hand by now.
He might be dangerous.  This has to be handled carefully."  Ryouga
smiled.  He really couldn't see Kunou being anything more than a
nuisance, no matter what Reiko said.
     "Don't worry," he assured her.  "Everything's going to be fine.
You'll see."  She didn't look convinced.
     Considering the disturbing scenario she'd outlined, Ryouga
supposed he didn't blame her one bit.

***

     Akane had to admit she was impressed.  Ranma had done a
nice job of planning and executing their surprise dinner date.  She
supposed that, at some level, he'd picked up on her disquiet after their
talk in the dojo the previous night.  That would explain the sudden
announcement when they'd arrived home that he was taking her on a
date.  She supposed she couldn't complain, even though they'd had to
sneak out of the house separately to avoid their fathers, which brought
her disquiet to the surface again.
     Still, it was an actual date.  Ranma had taken her to a
restaurant, not a terribly fancy place but nice enough nonetheless.  And
he'd paid, which only served to heighten the sense of occasion.  She'd
felt edgy after they'd ended up at their table, though, and it had taken
her a little while to realize why.
     Finally she understood.  By that point in their date, something
fairly catastrophic should have happened.  After all, something
ALWAYS happened.  But they ordered, received their food, and
began to eat, all without anything exploding.  No walls were smashed,
no one showed up to challenge Ranma or to reveal that she was a long-
lost fiancee.
     The calm was a little unnerving.  And through dinner, their talk
was nervous, strained, as if they both realized that something unnatural
was occurring.
     They got through the meal without any mishaps, though, and
Akane began to relax a little.  Ranma hadn't eaten much, which was
definitely not like him, but she chalked it up to the unusual
circumstances.  Then