Tokyo's Last Vampire: Division 12: The Berkhano Vampire Collection

by Tiffany Wayne

  And I screamed again. This time for real in my cell on the Mount as I felt myself vanish, disintegrating into ash to exist no more. Mine wasn’t the only scream. Kenshin’s almost drowned my shouts with his own, dropping my wrist and curling into the fetal position. I didn’t know if he’d experienced his own death or if it was the beginnings of the change. It would be a long night for him. The change wasn’t easy. His body would remake itself into something new, but it came at a cost and that cost was pain. I curled in beside him, hoping my presence would be a salve. My body shook from the visions, from the blood loss. I’d long imagined death and what it might feel like. Now I knew. I also realized I couldn’t let it happen. I’d seen two futures, which meant one very important thing…

  We had a chance.

  Chapter 26

  The next morning, Kenshin was suffering from sensory overload in his new vampire body and was barely coherent enough to help me convince our captors that I needed him to accompany us to retrieve the book. He was almost as manic as I was pretending to be. Much to my relief, he slowly calmed as we rode down the mountain in a horse-drawn carriage. “Everything is so bright and beautiful,” he declared over and over, hugging my hand to his chest as he peered out the window. He was a small child taking in the wonder of the world for the first time.

  “Wait until we get into Tokyo where everything is dull and ugly,” I warned, wanting to prepare him. Vampire senses were heightened to experience everything ten-fold, good and bad.

  “Really?” he gasped.

  “Really? Still glad you decided to become a vampitch?”

  Kenshin pulled his head back into the carriage and leaned close for a kiss, his smirk both wicked and dazzling, “Oh definitely. But I think Kol was right. It should be witchpire.”

  The kiss that followed was long and luxurious and made me ache for something I didn’t understand. The woman in me yearned to take Kenshin to bed and have him teach me the way of carnal pleasures. I was positive Kenshin would be an excellent teacher. Diligent. Thorough. Demanding. His kiss paid no heed to the danger soon to come. Daydreams and firelight.

  The carriage ground to a halt, breaking our embrace. “We’ve got this,” said Kenshin, popping quick kisses on my lips, nose, and forehead, then squeezing my hand. We weren’t sure what his vampire transformation meant for Kenshin’s magical abilities, but the effect of his touch on me hadn’t diminished. If anything, it had become stronger. I was fortified as Miikio opened the carriage door. “We walk from here.”

  “I’m going to talk to Miikio,” I whispered to Kenshin.

  “I’ll chat with Akemi,” he replied, seeing his old friend among Miikio’s entourage as we exited the carriage. I noted that Miikio’s retinue consisted of only one other Kami, which further improved my spirits. We could do this! Maybe. I gave us a fifty-fifty chance.

  Kenshin, Miikio and I approached the center of the group, surrounded by priests. “I’m surprised Amaterasu is not accompanying us,” I said to Miikio, sidling up beside him.

  “You no longer call her Hana,” noted Miikio, avoiding my question.

  “She is not my Hana. I prefer to keep my fond memories intact. Is Amaterasu not feeling well? I noticed the damage caused by the radiation.”

  Miikio gave me a side-long glance. “Your concern is heartwarming,” he said dryly. “She will recover.”

  I took heed of the purple hew to Miikio’s skin. Whatever happened at the library, Miikio would not be at his fighting best. Yep, we could totally pull this off. I increased our odds. Maybe seventy-five to twenty-five. “When was the last time Amaterasu went out among her people?” I queried, wanting to plant more seeds of doubt for Miikio. “She’s not paid a visit since I’ve been in Tokyo.”

  Miikio quickened his pace, but since he was surrounded by his priests, he couldn’t escape me. How ironic. You’re trapped, just like me, I thought. With Miikio unwilling to answer me, I turned my attention to Kenshin and Akemi. Unfortunately, there was nothing to hear because Akemi dutifully ignored Kenshin as he rambled about Akemi’s mother. I could smell Akemi’s conflict, a heady mix of salty on top of sour. It was a sharp contrast to the worried sadness wafting off Kenshin. His eyes darted around the city, taking in its grunge and foul odors.

  Caught up in assessing everyone’s status in the entourage, we were well into Tokyo proper before I noted the dearth of people on the streets. The color drained from those we spotted as they caught sight of the Kami and retreated…all except for one poor woman who fainted in the street. Two priests from the back of our retinue ran forward and removed her from the road. “Where is everyone?” I asked. “Why are so many panic-stricken at the sight of you?”

  Kenshin and I shared a lingering look as no one answered. We’d been gone less than a week, but the situation in town had definitely changed. Not knowing what happened, I put our odds back at fifty-fifty.

  Despite our circumstance, my excitement rose as we neared the library. It was a safe place. What could be better than living surrounded by thousands and thousands of stories, many with gloriously happy endings? And that wasn’t taking into account all the knowledge in the non-fiction sections. I crossed my fingers as we marched up the front steps, hoping for my own happy ending.

  Upon opening the door, I sucked in the exhilarating smell of old books. Hello, old friends. It’s been too long. My euphoria turned to anger as I took note of the remnants of my first battle with the Kami. They’d entered and desecrated my happy place, and now we were all doomed to another battle to come.

  I led the group to my room in the back and gave a surreptitious nod to Kenshin indicating where my knives were stashed. He stepped to the right of the door. I shifted to the left. We let the rest of the group funnel in. “The book’s on my shelf,” I told Miikio as he entered, pointing to the corner next to my bed. Miikio didn’t seem to notice where Kenshin and I had positioned ourselves, so he apparently never thought to call into question why I wasn’t retrieving the book for him. Miikio was powerful, but he was no tactical mastermind. Then again, neither was I. I was winging this, crossing all my fingers and toes and hoping for the best. Believing Kenshin was no real threat, the priests stationed themselves near me.

  Miikio ran a hand along the spines of my books until he reached the leather-bound volume. Taking a deep breath, he pulled it out with care. “I can feel its power,” he said with reverence.

  I chalked his assertions up to a placebo effect. He wanted to find the second spellbinder, so thinking this was it, he thought it powerful.

  Miikio continued to fondle the book for what seemed an eternity, running his hand over the gold embossing. “This triskelion was on the other spellbinder,” he said to the second Kami, indicating some barely legible embossing in the right corner. I knew what a triskelion looked like. It was a common Japanese symbol—three whorls extending from a central point—sometimes also called the triple moon. Personally, I thought the embossing in the book’s corner resembled a flower, but we all saw what we wanted to see.

  I nodded to Kenshin as Miikio opened the book with shaking hands. Kenshin bowed and shut his eyes in reply. We were ready. Adrenaline poured into my bloodstream, stoking my fires.

  Seeing the first page blank, Miikio frantically flipped through more. He stared up at me, eyes wide with disbelief. “It’s blank. I don’t understand. I feel its power.”

  “Yes, a blank slate can be very powerful.”

  Miikio rushed back to the beginning of the book where I’d torn out the first page. “There’s a page missing. What was on it?”

  “Me,” I said, coolly, muscles coiling.

  “What?”

  I walked casually, one careful step at a time, over to the mirror and unpinned the drawing. “This was all that was in the book.” I smiled, running my hand along the torn edge so Miikio could see I wasn’t lying. I held the picture up to my face. “My doppelgänger, don’t you think?”

  I dropped the paper and let it float to the floor…and then I leapt, landing a str
ike on the knee of the Kami nearest me.

  His knee shattered.

  The man fell.

  While he was still conscious, I delivered a swift punch to his head. Lights out. One Kami down. One to go.

  Unfortunately, a slew of priests stood between Miikio and me. I destroyed the knee of one priest, then another, tossing them to the side. We didn’t want to kill anyone, only a clean escape. More bodies fell as Kenshin did his part. I fought with Zen focus, not wanting my bloodlust to rise. A sharp mind and speed would be required, nothing more. Hands grabbed for me. Knives raised to cut me, but I was too quick, and the room was far too small for swords or bows, which would have let the priests keep their distance. I had the advantage and planned to use it.

  Our surprise attack had created chaos in the room. I felled four priests before I heard the crackle of Miikio’s electric hands. When a bolt of lightning streaked towards me, I ducked. “Enough,” he commanded.

  Not yet, I thought. Not until we are free. Changing tactics, I flung myself onto another priest, slamming him against the wall. The blow was enough to knock him unconscious. Five down. Another priest came out of nowhere behind me and grabbed my neck. Foolish, I thought, reaching behind and flinging him to the side, then stomping down on his leg. His howls of pain ripped at me, but I couldn’t let my empathy control the situation. Today, he was my enemy. At least he would live until tomorrow. Maybe then, he could be a friend.

  I’d almost reached Miikio when a bouquet of blood flooded the room. This was no scratch, but a gushing wound.

  Time slowed.

  Focused on my own fight, I hadn’t kept tabs on Kenshin. That was my second mistake. The first was not realizing a baby vampire wouldn’t be able to control his bloodlust. I certainly hadn’t been able to when I’d hunted down the men who’d raped me. Several priests lay unconscious and unbitten on the floor. Kenshin had stuck to the plan, at least at first. But then his adrenaline rose, and he lost control. One priest was obviously dead, blood still flowing from his neck. Kenshin held a second man who clawed at the air in a futile attempt to escape. Miikio was ready with his lightning but couldn’t get a clean shot.

  A priest made a run at me and I grabbed him, tossing the large man at Miikio as I bolted for Kenshin. I heard the beat of the man’s heart Kenshin held, and the flow of blood as it circulated. I pushed aside its blare and the intoxicating aroma whispering for me to partake.

  I put a hand on Kenshin’s shoulder, and he turned from me, guarding his prey, not wanting to share. “Let go,” I pleaded, eyes on Miikio as he picked himself off the ground. My bookshelves had come down on top of the pair. I could pry the priest from Kenshin’s grip but would likely rip out his jugular in the process. For the guy to survive, I needed Kenshin to release him on his own. “Let go.” I was begging. We only had a few more seconds until Miikio would be on his feet again and ready with more lightning. “Look at me.” The pleading hadn’t worked. This was a command. “Come back to me. You are stronger than this…this…need.”

  His wild, golden eyes darted to me, then away. A low, feral growl emanated from deep within him. It said, get away. Mine. The mind of a feeding vampire was a simple one. Feed to live. Live to feed. Drain the blood then find some more.

  I dug my fingers into his shoulder hoping pain would draw his true self to the surface. This time I screamed, “Kenshin. Stop. Stop now.” I shook his body, willing the savage beast he carried inside to sleep once more.

  Kenshin’s eyes shot daggers in my direction as his mouth momentarily let go of the priest’s neck. He probably intended to growl, but I didn’t give him time. I socked him in the jaw, ripped the man from his grasp, and hauled him towards the door.

  “Go,” I yelled. “Go, go, go.”

  The remaining three priests tended to their wounded as they regarded me with unease. They were in no hurry to engage. On his feet, a mass of crackling electricity held between his hands, Miikio stared not at us, but my bed. On it lay the drawing of the red-haired girl with braids. “Who are you?” he asked, wonder on his face.

  “Nobody,” I said. “Just a girl.”

  Back to his senses, Kenshin yanked me out the door. A moment later, a lightning bolt struck where I’d been standing, then another. Boom. Sizzle. Boom. Sizzle.

  Kenshin and I needed no further incentive.

  We were off and running.

  We were free.

  Chapter 27

  We flew through the side streets of Tokyo wanting to stay hidden as our preternatural speed would raise alarm bells. Side by side, driven by the hope of setting things right, our legs churned, and our lungs burned. Kenshin kept looking at his feet as he moved, marveling at their speed. His amazement brought memories of my first time running as a new vampire. I had sliced through the forest like a gazelle, leaping over logs and dodging trees. The ease of my movement felt grand, indeed. I’d never been a sporty child, and to suddenly be endowed with both grace and strength was a wonder. Athleticism without the sweat of daily workouts was a definite advantage of vampirism, a perk Kenshin seemed to appreciate.

  After five winding turns, I checked for a tail. Smelling none of Miikio’s retinue, I slowed to a stop.

  “Why are we resting? My father is only a couple of kilometers away.”

  I yanked a shirt from a clothesline strung across the alleyway and handed it to him. “Trust me, you don’t want to see your father looking like this.” I pointed at the blood all down his front.

  Kenshin pulled his shirt away from his stomach and withered at the sight, slumping against a wall.

  “It’s on your face, too,” I said, unclipping a washcloth off the clothesline for him to use.

  Paralyzed by what he’d done, I had to help Kenshin remove his shirt and replace it with the other one, wrestling his arms through the holes. “Come on. Help me out a little, will you?”

  “Did I kill someone?” he asked, barely audible.

  “Yes,” I said, knowing lying was futile. “But if it makes you feel any better, they wanted to kill you. It was them or you.”

  Kenshin stopped me as I started to wipe his face. “I’ve killed before. Why does this feel different?”

  “Feeding from a living body creates a bond. It’s intimate, which is why I drink from a glass.”

  Kenshin took the rag from my hand and rubbed at his face, occasionally wetting it with his own spit to better clean the blood staining his mouth and cheeks. “More presentable?” he asked.

  “Much.” I took the cloth and dabbed away the last of the dried blood.

  “I’m sorry for what happened back there. I really could have messed things up for us.”

  “It’s not your fault. I should have warned you about the bloodlust you might feel and prepared you for it.”

  “Will it always be like this?”

  “Your control will grow, but the hunger will always be there,” I replied, my heart heavy.

  Kenshin snatched my hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss. “Please, don’t be sad. I have no regret for what I’ve become. I only wish to understand it better.”

  I nodded and was about to suggest we move on, when a gasp emanated from a nearby doorway, a small woman peeking out. “It is the red ghost. Have you come to save us from the Kami?” Two more women appeared in the doorway, each gasping in turn, before spilling out into the alley.

  Kenshin jumped to attention and balled up the evidence of his recent carnage, tossing the bloody shirt and rag behind his back and into a sewer drain. He swiped at his face with his clean shirt sleeves, still worried about how he might look.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “What happened with the Kami?”

  The oldest of the women arched an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

  Kenshin and I shook our heads simultaneously, and the frail woman marched over and took both our hands, leading us down a side alley and out onto Main Street. Now it was our turn to gasp. No wonder the people had fled as we sauntered towards town accompanied by two Kami. Destruction
reigned supreme. Within a single block, multiple buildings had collapsed, smoke rose from a few that still burned, and two children covered in grime sat huddled and crying on front stoops. A few women milled about in the streets with others furtively peeking out their windows.

  “Where are the men?” asked Kenshin.

  “They took them. The Kami came into town and rounded them up, leaving only the young and disabled. Needless to say, our men didn’t go without a fight.”

  “When did this happen?” I asked.

  “Two days ago,” said the youngest appearing in the group. “Do you know why they would take my husband?”

  “They are Kami,” said the third woman. “It is not our place to question. The men should not have fought. They should have gone peaceably. It is their fault our town is in ruin.”

  I stared at Kenshin, not knowing what to say. They’d probably rounded the men up as soon as they’d learned of my existence. He shook his head, indicating I should stay quiet, but my gut revolted at the idea. These women deserved to know so they could take action. “My dad,” he said. “We need to find my dad.” Kenshin grabbed my arm and pulled me into the street, taking off at a run. “You’ll not find him,” called one of the women. “They are all gone. All but you.”

  “I’ll be back,” I shouted. “I’ll explain everything.”

  Chapter 28

  Kenshin and I covered the distance to his father’s compound in record time. I tried to stop Kenshin before we reached the front door to come up with a game plan on how to tell his father about the Kami’s plans—it wasn’t the easiest topic to broach—but Kenshin ran headlong into the compound. The guards were missing from the front doors, and I braced myself for the worst. Fortunately, we heard voices in the far back. Kenshin yelled for his father as he exploded into his dad’s back office without preamble.

  I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d held at seeing the old man sitting at his desk surrounded by ten men. The Kami hadn’t captured everyone.