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Mages in Manhattan: A Tokyo Supernatural Novel

Page 8

by Phil Gabriel


  Finally finished with the working, I looked up at his anxious eyes, nodding to indicate that the spell had been successful. I reached down to the bar top, breaking the circle, and lifted the coin. With a flourish, I presented the coin on my palm to Nakamura-san.

  He accepted the coin with trembling fingers and examined it closely, handling it as if it would pop like a soap bubble. I reached into my satchel to pull out a circular clip and an eighteen-inch-long golden chain. Taking the coin back from Nakamura-san, I secured the clip and chain to the coin. To mundane vision, the chain appeared as something much more valuable than the amulet. Returning the amulet and chain to Nakamura-san, I asked Kitty-Sue to translate, not wanting Nakamura-san’s English comprehension to cause problems.

  “Your mother must wear this necklace around her neck for no less than five days. It must touch her skin the entire time, so must be worn even while bathing and sleeping. Her back should straighten in the first two days, with complete elimination of her osteoporosis by the end of five days.

  “After that period, she should plan on visiting one of the Hakone onsens. Bathing in the hot springs with the amulet at least once per year will recharge the magic.”

  Nakamura-san nodded several times, asked a few questions of Kitty-Sue for clarification, and prepared to leave. I raised my glass in salute as he took a deep drink of his Johnnie Walker, finishing the glass, and bowed to all of us. Just before leaving, he topped off my glass

  As he exited the bubble maintained by Kitty-Sue, she asked, “Why did you give away another enchanted object? Aren’t those incredibly rare?”

  Reluctant to let her know that I could mass produce miracles, I ignored her question about the rarity of enchanted objects. “Well, Nakamura-san told me about his mother’s problem, and I wanted to help. It turned out he could help me in turn, so everything worked out for the best.”

  Looking at me suspiciously as she twirled her drink in her glass, Kitty-Sue asked, “How did you know about his mom?”

  “He confided in me when we met at the Ninja Restaurant last week,” I responded. “He works there in the evenings.”

  Eyes widening, Kitty-Sue said, “Wait! Is he one of the entertainers there? The mundane magicians who do card tricks?”

  “I always knew you were smart,” I replied.

  “You tricked the kitsune queen with a mundane card trick?” she asked. I waited anxiously for her reaction, not knowing if she would disown me for tricking her queen or leave me to avoid the fallout when the truth surfaced.

  Then she laughed, her eyes glistening in mirth, “You tricked the Queen of the Tricksters!” she exclaimed as she slapped my leg.

  Even the normally staid Akiko giggled at the joke, unable to maintain her composure.

  As Kitty-Sue leaned against my arm, her scent wafting through the air, I felt peace for the first time in a long time. That is, until her next words: “I can’t wait to see her reaction!”

  Eight

  Trapped by the Nogitsune

  “I can’t wait to see her reaction!” At those words, Akiko and I stopped laughing, but Kitty-Sue continued to chortle with glee. She really did have a nasty sense of humor. A tingle of apprehension ran through the psychic link I shared with Akiko.

  Nodding to me, Akiko said, “Scott-Sensei, I like to visit my family. There are protections I must to set up around our home.”

  “Of course, Akiko-san,” I responded. “Let me know if you need any help.” Akiko and Kitty-Sue bowed to each other as Akiko faded away.

  Kitty-Sue stepped close to my barstool and laid her head on my shoulder. As she looked at me with hungry eyes, the bar’s entertainer stepped up to the piano. I ran my right hand up and down Kitty-Sue’s back, the hair of her tail tickling the back of my hand. I traced my fingers over the nape of her neck, eliciting a quiet moan from her. As my fingers brushed the collar I had gifted her, the piano player started playing an instrumental version of “Slave to Love.”

  “Damn Euterpe,” I muttered as I pulled away from Kitty-Sue.

  “Who the hell’s Euterpe?” asked Kitty-Sue with a puzzled frown.

  My brain went into overdrive, flashing back to a moonlit night on a supposedly uninhabited Greek isle. I heard beautiful music from the beach, waking me from a sound sleep. I followed the sounds to find a raven-haired woman sitting on a rock near the waves, playing a tune on a flute. So as not to startle her, I approached slowly. She nodded in greeting at my approach, not stopping until the tune was complete. I was her audience, enraptured by her music as she played song after song. We later shared wine, stories, and love. As she was leaving in the dawn’s light, although there was no way off the island until my charter three days hence, she whispered her name to me. Euterpe, the muse of music and delight. She gave me a night of delight and something extra, prophecy through music. I still haven’t decided if it was a gift or a curse.

  “Well,” I temporized while trying to think of a cogent way of explaining that story to a kitsune, “she was an ex. The music made me think of her.”

  “So, you’re hugging me and thinking of her!” Kitty-Sue’s voice rose as her mood changed in a flash. The sharp almost-ozone smell of kitsune magic filled the air as she gathered power.

  “No, no, no,” I stammered. “It’s the song! It’s a prophecy.” How to explain that the song made me realize I couldn’t trust Kitty-Sue’s feelings were real as long as she wore that slave collar? The collar she refused to remove.

  Several emotions swept across her face: puzzlement, annoyance, and finally anger. She straightened her back, turned, and walked away as I said, “C’mon, Kitty-Sue, I can explain. It’s a curse.” She continued walking as if she hadn’t heard.

  Fine, let her stew a bit and calm down. I didn’t need any more crazy women in my life. I turned my stool around and motioned for the new bartender to pour me another double shot of Johnnie Walker Black. As I sipped the scotch, the piano player segued into a rendition of “Devil With a Blue Dress On.”

  I felt the tingle of kitsune magic at my back and the hint of perfume in my nose. I spun around with a grin on my face, saying, “I’m glad you came back,” only to be greeted by the devilish grin of Natsumi, Kitty-Sue’s sister. She had changed from her business suit into a party-girl outfit, showing lots of leg and cleavage.

  She gestured to the now empty stool to my right and raised an eyebrow while saying, “May I?” I nodded in defeat as she slid onto the stool, exposing even more leg. She had to sit forward on the stool to give her two tails room to move.

  She gestured imperiously at the barman, and he scurried over quickly to take her order. As he was shaking up her cocktail, she sniffed the air and said, “My sister was just here. She was, mmmm, happy, then horny, then angry, then she left. Am I right?”

  “Close enough,” I muttered into my drink while trying to keep my eyes from tracking her bosom under her tight blue (of course) dress.

  She accepted her drink and with the tiniest tilt of her head, indicated that it should be put on my tab. She must have learned that from her auntie, the queen.

  “You’re buying the next round,” I said, probably the first time she had ever heard that.

  “Of course,” she lied. “That’s what friends do.” She laid her hand on my forearm. Her touch was warm, and I felt the tingle of kitsune magic in her touch.

  Several drinks later, none of which she paid for, Naughty-Sue (as I mentally tagged her) was leaning against me, black furred ears tickling my nose as her hands rubbed my thighs. I was fighting a losing battle with my recently ramped up hormones when the piano player started with an old song, “Love the One You’re With.”

  “Damn Euterpe,” I muttered into my fourth (or was it my fifth?) double.

  “Who’s Euterpe?” asked Naughty-Sue as she nuzzled my chest.

  “An ex-girlfriend,” I replied, expecting the same type of jealousy that Kitty-Sue had shown.

  Looking at me with wide eyes, Naughty-Sue said, “Do you want to invite her back for a t
hreesome? You know I have two tails, right?”

  Shocked by her openness, I asked, “What does having two tails have to do with threesomes?”

  “That’s a secret,” she whispered in my ear, “that only the most intimate of friends finds out.” Her hot breath sent shivers down my spine, and thoughts of uncovering the secret of the second tail ran through my brain.

  As if in warning, the piano player started into the Aerosmith song “Crazy.”

  Still, she was here, she wasn’t the least bit jealous, and I had no doubts as to her free will. Looking down at her body, butt wiggling to the beat of the song, two tails swinging in counterpoint, I realized I could have done a lot worse.

  “Well, then,” I said, standing up from my stool and motioning for the bill, “let’s find out.”

  As I reached for Princess, Naughty-Sue quickly moved in and attempted to pick her up. The sword hissed angrily at her touch, and I heard a hiss of burning flesh as she touched Princess’ handle. Naughty-Sue jerked her hand back and sucked on her burned finger. “Don’t try to touch Princess Blade,” I said. “She’s a one-man woman.”

  Naughty-Sue watched with calculating eyes as I picked up the disguised sword before smiling and saying, “How does she feel about threesomes?”

  I awoke slowly, rising through multiple layers of unconsciousness, incomprehension, and sleep. The sun peeking through the slit in the curtains finally forced me to open my gummy eyelids.

  Sitting up was immensely difficult and accompanied by excruciating pain. I hadn’t had a hangover like this since I snuck some of Pa’s moonshine at the age of twelve.

  Looking around in disbelief at the trashed hotel room, I shook my head to clear it. That was a bad idea as it made my headache worse. A few minutes of deep breathing brought the nausea under control, and a trickle of healing magic eased my aching head. The pounding stopped, leaving only a dull throbbing pain.

  The bedside tables were overturned, a lamp was broken, and the mattress had a strange series of slashes and puncture holes. A close examination revealed the slashes and punctures outlined where my unconscious body had lain. Almost as if someone had tried to stab or slash me with a reluctant sword.

  At that thought, I looked around for signs of my magical sword. She was nowhere to be found around or under the bed. I slid to the edge of the bed and stood dizzily.

  Standing naked at the edge of the bed, I went over my fragmented memories. My last memory was of being at the bar, drinking with Naughty-Sue. She had turned out to be more entertaining than I had imagined, full of wit and no small amount of sex appeal. As we chatted, she would lean forward, giving me a glimpse of her cleavage. Somehow she had managed to lose the three upper buttons of her blouse.

  I remember getting a room at the front desk, purchasing a fresh bottle of Johnnie Walker Black, and walking up to the room. After that was a series of very hazy memories of laughter, teasing, and lots of sex. I now knew the secret about the second tail.

  Reminiscing about the night before wasn’t going to get my work done, or empty my painfully full bladder. I stood to exit the room, took two steps, and found my nose bumping against a bubble of kitsune magic. No problem, I had just the trinket to pop the bubble in my satchel. My satchel, which was where exactly? She couldn’t have taken that, the protections and inertial augmentation spell made it impossible to move the bag more than a few feet from me. The apparent weight of the bag would logarithmically increase the farther it was from me. The Incredible Hulk couldn’t take my satchel from me.

  It had to be close by. I bent down to peer under the bed again, this time running my hands over the carpet in case the satchel was in camouflage mode, with no results. Bending down had reawakened my urgency to pee, but the bathroom was beyond the bubble. A quick inventory of the space inside the bubble showed the bed, some broken furnishings, and one of those silver buckets used to chill champagne bottles. I grabbed the bucket and was delighted to find some melted ice water inside. I drank down the dregs in three swallows, then gratefully refilled the bucket by emptying my bladder.

  Now I could think again. Stepping up to the bubble, I peered through the distortion and was able to spy my satchel near the door. Damn, Naughty-Sue was strong! She had managed to drag the satchel almost to the door before giving up. The crazy bitch had managed to get it beyond her bubble, placing all my tricks and amulets beyond my reach. I decided to try force. Summoning up all of my magical energy, I placed both palms against the bubble and channeled lightning. After several minutes, drained of energy, I examined the bubble to see if it had worked. Not the slightest sign of damage. I banged my forehead against the indestructible bubble.

  OK, time to swallow my pride and ask for help. I sent a ping down the psychic link I shared with Akiko. No response. That damnable bubble was blocking psychic communications. I reluctantly sent a message down the link I shared with Kitty-Sue. Still no answer. Either that link was also down or she was ignoring me.

  I sat on the bed to meditate. After closing my eyes and breathing, instead of the peace I sought, I found myself with my face in the pillow Naughty-Sue had used, moaning at my loss. What the hell? This wasn’t me. She must have set a pheromone-laced trap to keep me from finding a way out.

  I turned my back on the pillow and set up for meditation again, only to find myself face down on the pillow with a huge erection. Damn that woman! Every time I closed my eyes to gather energy, all I could think of was her luscious body writhing above me, under me, beside me, revealing the secret of the second tail... And I was back at the damn pillow. I picked up the pillow with the intent to throw it across the room, only to find myself with it pressed to my face, breathing deeply of Naughty-Sue’s scent. Each breath seemed to tighten her hold on me.

  Face covered with the pillow, I was shocked to hear Kitty-Sue’s voice shouting “Remember!” I dropped the pillow in amazement to look for her, but she wasn’t in the room. Standing up, I started to reach down for the pillow, only to hear Kitty-Sue’s voice again, accompanied by a throbbing pain in my forehead. My senses cleared and I could think again. Deciding not to bring the addictive pillow near my nose again, I kicked it as hard as possible across the room. I was surprised to see the pillow fly through the impenetrable kitsune bubble.

  What the hell? The bubble wasn’t blocking objects, just me? Thanks to the removal of the pillow trap, a few moments of clear thought indicated that the properties of the bubble had to be psychic, not physical. Kitsune were masters at mental manipulation. What if I was only convinced that the bubble was impenetrable? What if it was all in my head?

  If so, I should be able to close my eyes and walk right through the bubble. I stepped back a few feet, closed my eyes, and stepped quickly towards the exit. Only to bump my nose forcefully against the imaginary bubble. Damn, just knowing where the bubble was, was enough to trigger the spell. How could I pass through the bubble if knowing it was there was enough to stop me?

  Just knowing it was there? How could I convince my subconscious that the bubble wasn’t where I clearly knew it to be? How could I disguise the location of the edge of the bubble?

  At that moment, the clock radio on the floor turned itself on, blasting out the old Tommy Roe tune, “Dizzy.”

  “Euterpe, sweetheart,” I muttered as I started spinning in place, “I’ll never speak badly of you again.” As I spun faster and faster, the song on the radio cut off.

  Out of breath, out of my mind, I finally spun dizzily through the psychic barrier left by the no-good bitch kitsune. The pop of the bubble bursting was the sweetest sound I had heard in years. I fell to the floor, and it took about twenty minutes for my head to stop spinning.

  Staggering to my feet, I reached down to my satchel and stroked the glyph that opened it up. I brought out my phone to check the time. OK, not too late... Wait! Is that the date? Damn, I had been stuck in that bubble for three days. I could have died in there.

  Thoughts of the best revenge floated through my mind as I pulled clothes from the
satchel and dressed. A glimpse at the bathroom mirror showed the reason for my difficulty in bending and stretching. Multiple bouts with that kitsune bitch had drained my youth. As I gazed at the wrinkles at the corners of my eyes and the drooping flesh of my body, I remembered burning energy at an enormous rate to keep up with her. Not as bad as the battle with Jorōgumo, but still a significant aging.

  One more task to do before I left the trap. Time to rewire some neural pathways to avoid having problems with Naughty-Sue’s kitsune pheromones in the future. It took about thirty minutes, bringing the pillow back to my nose, tweaking olfactory receptors, and trying again, and again, until I was satisfied. The last sniff almost made me vomit, which was just the result I wanted when I encountered Naughty-Sue again. The process could have gone quicker, but I wanted the effect only to be for Naughty-Sue’s specific scent. I still had vague hopes of making up with Kitty-Sue.

  I needed to get home. Naughty-Sue had taken Princess Blade, my clothes, my wallet with my credit cards, and a significant chunk of my life energy—pretty much everything that wasn’t nailed down. I would need to get some cash and supplies. I quickly dressed and exited the hotel, avoiding the reception desk. As I walked towards the apartment, I dreaded the reception I would get from Kitty-Sue.

  Nine

  Taming the Nogitsune

  Never one to step lightly when stomping would do, I burst through the door and announced, “Honey, I’m home. What’s for lunch?”

  Kitty-Sue stepped through the kitchen door. She was a mess: hair tousled, eyes red from crying, and her tail was drooping. She had never been more beautiful to me.

  She approached with a sudden smile on her face, got within sniffing distance, and exploded. “You stink of my sister! So her post was true! I can’t believe what you did.”

 

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