by Haven, Rose
“Oh, well, Loretta Freeburn is pregnant again,” Mama replied. I could hear the faint swoosh and click as she stirred her pot slowly. “I don’t know how she stands so many children, but that’s Catholics for you.”
I cringed and gave her a noncommittal hum to tell her that I was paying attention. Finally, when she was done explaining how Catholics breed like rabbits, I told her: “So, I’m making friends,” Which was true before hunters had murdered the only friend I’d made, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Oh, that’s nice dear.”
“And I’m sort of seeing someone,” I added.
“Really?” she said interestedly. “That’s awful soon – you just moved to the city,”
“It’s not serious,” I lied.
“What’s his name, then?”
I took a deep breath. “Daiki Hamada,” I said.
“Oh,” There was a long pause. When she spoke again, her voice was full of forced cheer. “Well, that’s an exotic name,” she said. “Where’s that from?”
“Japan,” I said. “He’s Japanese.”
There was another pause. “I don’t suppose he’s old enough to remember Pearl Harbour?” she asked shrewdly.
“He’s too young, Mama,” I said, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes. “But I’ll bet his grandfather is old enough to remember Hiroshima.”
“Hmm,” I could picture her pursing her lips and leaning against the counter. “Well, I hope you’re careful. Your father might have a few things to say about this.”
I rolled over until I was on my back and pushed my hair out of my eyes. “I think Daddy would get along with him,” I said. “They’re both very… protective.”
She hummed again and changed the subject. I knew that the conversation about Daiki would come up again, and again, but at least my parents couldn’t accuse me of hiding him from them. It would make the fact that I was hiding other things from them much easier.
While she jabbered about her knitting circle, I pulled my laptop out of my purse and pulled up an internet browser. I typed in ‘Japanese art schools’, because it couldn’t hurt to look, right? The first result was a school in Kyoto, the place Daiki had mentioned. It seemed to put a lot of emphasis on different art styles – but not so that they could be used in marketing or design. This was art for art’s sake. Painting, in particular, seemed to be pretty important. I felt my heart quicken as I read through their program.
“… and then Coraline dropped the cake, can you imagine? Made a real mess of the kitchen…”
I scrolled up to the tab that said ‘International exchange’ and, after hesitating only briefly, I clicked on it. The first thing that came up was a picture of Kyoto. It didn’t make my heart sing the way that pictures of New York had before I’d gotten into the Institute, but it was very beautiful. It had character. I could imagine myself living there. I read through the information and felt my eyebrows raising into my hairline. A year at this school would cost a fraction of what Mama and Daddy were paying for New York.
“… of course there’s something to be said for all-American men. Frankly I’ve never trusted foreign mechanics all that much. You can tell they don’t really care about this country…”
My phone buzzed in my ear. I pulled it away, put Mama on speaker and checked the text I’d just received. It was from Daiki. I opened it and realized almost instantly that he hadn’t written it:
Skye, this is Ichiru. Is Daiki with you?
I texted back a quick reply: no. I felt a sudden wave of dread.
“… Jackson’s cattle dogs got into Margaret’s chicken pens again. I swear that woman will shoot those dogs one of these days and then where will that family be?”
“Mama,” I said, cutting her off mid-stream. “Sorry, Mama – I just got a text from a friend. She’s locked out of her apartment. Can I call you later?”
“Of course,” she said. “Your father will be home soon. You can talk to him then.”
I heard the threat in her voice but I didn’t care at that point. I told her I loved her and hung up. Then I called Daiki’s phone.
“Skye?” Ichiru answered.
“Ichiru, is everything okay?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” he replied. I could detect a hint of panic in his voice. “Everything is okay, Skye.”
“Where’s Daiki?” I asked.
He hesitated. “I do not know,” he said finally. My heart sank and I clutched the phone harder. “Can you feel him through the link?”
I tried. I sent out a call, imagining it as a kind of radar, but I couldn’t pick up Daiki. Growling in frustration, I tried again. I felt a faint hum along the link and latched onto it, pulling my mind towards Daiki. I saw a glimpse of him before the image blurred and faded. I pushed harder. My head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.
I gasped when the image cleared up: “He’s in Concourse,” I said, recognizing the architecture and trees. He was heading towards an abandoned theatre with a look of fierce determination on his beautiful face. I froze, holding my phone against my ear as my breath quickened and a sick feeling of terror curled low in my belly. “I think he’s going for the Ootoris.”
It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over me. Of course he’d gone after the Ootoris. Daiki Hamada used to patrol the neighborhood in a vigilante mask fighting muggers and saving people. He’d flown to my rescue when the hunters had taken me. Of course he would take the fight to the Ootoris. He wouldn’t be satisfied just sitting at home, waiting for the hammer to fall.
Ichiru cursed and hung up. The dial tone jolted me into action and I grabbed my purse and ran for the door. I had to get to Daiki. Those hunters would tear him apart!
I hailed a cab at the road and handed a fifty to the cabbie. “Concourse,” I said. “East 197th Street. As fast as you can,” I didn’t even say please.
I must have looked desperate because the cabbie hauled ass, tearing away from the curb and hurtling north. I kept my eye trained on the passing buildings, waiting for one I recognized, sending stop, stop, stop through the link. My desperate pleas went unanswered. Even though I could find him, I couldn’t get through to him.
I felt a sudden, agonizing pain in my shoulder and doubled over, gasping. I reached around and rubbed the area, expecting to feel my hands come away sticky with blood, but there was nothing there. Nothing had hurt me.
“Daiki,” I whispered. He’d been hurt. “Please hurry,” I told the cabbie.
The ride felt like it lasted a lifetime, but it couldn’t have been longer than 20 minutes before I saw the building Daiki had been heading towards.
“Pull over here!” I said.
I leapt out of the cab before it had stopped completely and ran for the theatre, feeling my lungs burn and my heart pound as I threw myself against the front doors. I could hear shouting on the other side.
“Daiki!” I shouted.
I ran around the building, my legs pumping and burning, and found a broken window that was low enough for me to climb through. I gasped as another surge of pain burned through me, catching me in the leg this time, and heard an inhuman screeching coming from inside. Ichiru had beaten me there.
Once I was through the window, ignoring the cuts on my hands from broken glass, I stared around. The lights were out, but there were skylights in the ceiling which illuminated the dusty rows of chairs and ancient red carpets. Then I saw Daiki lying on stage as Ichiru shot balls of fire at the Ootoris. I could tell that Ichiru was running low on power – his fire wasn’t nearly as vibrant as usual. Daiki was shooting fire as well, but he couldn’t do much with Ichiru standing in front of him – protecting him, but obscuring his line of sight. The Ootoris were closing in.
I ran for the stage. Daiki saw me coming and shouted a warning, distracting Ichiru, who barely avoided the crossbow bolt which flew past his head and embedded itself in the splintering wall. Minako shouted an instruction to Hikaru, who began edging around Ichiru to get a clean shot at Daiki.
They w
ere both so focused on their prey that they hadn’t noticed me. I ran past the front row, skidded to a halt, and turned back to see a black bag full of weapons on one of the chairs. The Ootoris must have planned for this; relying on Daiki’s fury and immaturity to lure him into a trap. Hunters loved their traps.
There was a crossbow sticking out of the bag. It was loaded.
I grabbed it, feeling the comforting weight so similar to the shotgun Daddy used to teach me with, and held it up to my shoulder. I carefully took aim at Hikaru’s leg and squeezed the trigger.
The bolt grazed him. He spun around and fired at me, but I threw myself behind one of the chairs.
Skye get out of here!
Oh, now you want to talk?
My crossbow reloaded itself as I heard another inhuman screech – this one laced with pain instead of fury. It vibrated through my bones. I looked over the top of the chair to see Ichiru collapse with a crossbow bolt in his shoulder. Daiki’s mouth was open in a silent scream of horror.
I fired at Minako, grazing her back as Daiki shot a bolt of fire at Hikaru.
For a moment, all I felt from Daiki was pain and fear. Then, I heard his voice: What do we do? He threw another ball of fire at Hikaru while pulling himself painfully to his feet. I realized that there was a crossbow bolt in one of his beautiful wings; another in his thigh.
Break glass in case of emergency, I told him.
Daiki nodded. His eyes blazed with golden fire, and my own eyes burned with an answering heat as I felt power flowing through me. Last time Daiki took control of me, I’d been completely powerless. I could only watch as my body moved without my permission. Now, it was as if my mind had been split in two – one half was seeing the world from my eyes, while the other half saw the world from Daiki’s.
We weren’t two people in two bodies. We were one mind, one soul, shared between two vessels.
Well, that’s a handy trick, Daiki sent through the link.
Then we attacked.
Chapter Five
Daiki shot a bolt of fire at the Ootoris. I felt the flames coiling in his belly, rushing down his arms, and then lashing out like snakes. I aimed my crossbow and felt his thoughts guiding me, his hands brushing over mine through the link and holding me steady as I fired, catching Hikaru in the shoulder as he was busy avoiding Daiki’s fire.
We moved as one. As Minako shouted for her brother, I leapt onto the stage and stood with Daiki, aiming my crossbow as he set both of his arms on fire to warn the Ootoris off. Ichiru lay in front of us, groaning in pain. Daiki shot another ball of fire at Minako, catching her in the chest and sending her flying back to the edge of the stage. Hikaru, who’d fallen hard when the bolt hit him, tried to raise his crossbow and point it at Daiki’s face.
I was there in an instant. I felt Daiki’s confidence and muscle memory working through me as I kicked the crossbow out of Hikaru’s hand. I saw a brief flash of fear in his eyes before he gritted his teeth and stared me down as though daring me to kill him.
“We should kill you,” I said, my voice and Daiki’s melting together to become one. The part of my mind that belonged to Daiki was itching to deal out justice. Justice for his mother, his father, and the hundreds of other shifters who’d lost their lives to the Ootoris’ bloodlust. Looking down at the Hikaru Ootori, I could feel Daiki’s anger and grief – so intense and corrosive that it threatened to consume me.
But there was something else beneath it all: fear. Fear for Ichiru, who lay prone and vulnerable on the stage. Daiki’s love for his family was just strong enough to come through all of the pain, anger, and vengeance. I latched onto that feeling, pushing it to the fore and pulling Daiki away from thoughts of fire and blood.
For a moment, our minds jarred and fractured. Then, we found our harmony again. Together, we turned away from the Ootoris. Minako, who lay senseless on the opposite side of the stage, and Hikaru, who watched me go with a look of confusion and disbelief on his face.
Daiki and I knelt by Ichiru. I could feel Daiki’s concern as I set my crossbow down and held Ichiru while Daiki pulled the bolt sharply out of his shoulder, causing the old man to grunt with pain. Daiki set his finger ablaze and used it to cauterize the wound. I pulled the crossbow bolts from Daiki’s thigh and wing, feeling the agonizing pull as though it was my own flesh being torn asunder, and watched as he cauterized those wounds as well.
As Daiki and I worked, we shared a wordless conversation.
You need to get him to a hospital, I sent through.
This is my fault, he shouldn’t even have been here.
He loves you. He wanted to protect you.
He cast an angry look to the Ootori siblings. I wish you’d let me kill them.
You’re not a monster, Daiki.
We can’t stay here. They’ll just keep coming.
Then run.
I don’t want to leave you.
This isn’t about us. Ichiru needs to heal and he can’t do it while he’s stressed out about hunters. Take him somewhere safe.
Daiki lifted his grandfather into his arms. The old man looked so small. It reminded me of the memory I’d seen earlier that day, of Daiki being held in his grandfather’s arms while his family’s home burned around them. I held Ichiru’s hand and smiled at him. Daiki kissed me on the cheek and walked out of the theatre without looking back.
As I watched him go, the link stretched, trembled, and then broke. I was one person again, not two. The loss of Daiki’s presence in my mind made me gasp and fall to my knees. I’d almost forgotten that the Ootori siblings were in the room.
Then Hikaru spoke. “I have never seen a link in action,” he said. The crossbow bolt through his shoulder didn’t seem to be bothering him, although he was clearly favoring the other arm as he leaned up on his elbows to get a better look at me. There was awe in his eyes. I pushed myself to my feet as he continued: “Was it you who decided not to kill us?”
“We decided together,” I replied. “That’s how the link works.” Hikaru looked over at his sister, who was starting to stir. I saw something soften in his face and I said: “You killed Daiki’s family. He didn’t kill yours.”
I left the Ootoris there and let myself out of the theatre. I came out into the sunlight and gazed around at all the people who didn’t know that shifters and hunters existed. I felt powerful, as if bearing this secret made me untouchable somehow.
Instead of hailing a cab, I walked back to my apartment. It was a two-hour trek, but I felt the need for some silence. I didn’t think about the fact that Daiki and Ichiru were running away from the city at that moment, that I had no idea when I would see him again, or even whether I was safe in New York with hunters swarming all over the place. I didn’t think about my parents’ reaction to my Japanese boyfriend. I didn’t think at all. I just let myself be numb.
My legs were aching by the time I made it back to my apartment. I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time despite the pain. Once my apartment door was locked behind me, I began stripping off my clothes on the way to the bathroom.
“You’ve earned yourself a nice warm shower, Skye Louise,” I told myself as I stood, naked and sweaty, in the bathroom.
I turned on the shower, waited for it to get hot, and stepped inside. I felt instant relief. A hot shower couldn’t actually solve my problems, but it could at least soothe the ache. As I felt the worries and horrors of the day melting away with the near-scalding water falling over my back and sides, I felt Daiki pressing against my mind and eagerly let him in.
Skye? His voice was faint but he was there. Can you hear me?
Are you okay? I asked.
We’re safe. We’re in Montreal
I felt a wave of relief so intense that I had to lean against the cold shower wall. Tears welled into my eyes as I asked: How did you get there so quickly?
Flew.
Do you speak French?
I’ve never learned. We won’t be staying long. As soon as Oji-san is well, we’re heading back to Jap
an.
Well, thank goodness for universal healthcare, I sent through, keeping my tone as light as I could, knowing that he could probably tell that I was upset.
But I had no right to be upset. He and his grandfather needed to be safe, and New York just wasn’t safe for them anymore. Ichiru had planned to take them back to Japan anyway. It was the best plan for them. It didn’t make me feel any better.
I reached out through the link, gently caressing Daiki’s mind and showing him how much I would miss him. I felt an answering caress. Where in Japan?
Kyoto, he replied. It’s where my father grew up.
I’ll miss you, I sent through. But at least we can still talk.
I can see you, he replied. His voice was a little hesitant, as if he were worried about how I would react. I was confused before I realized that I was in the shower.
Pervert, I replied affectionately.
You’re so beautiful, he sent through.
I reached out through the link, trying to get a picture of him like I had that afternoon. Images filtered into my mind – odd, half-imagined thoughts which gave more of an impression than a clear picture. A misted mirror, a cream shower curtain with mold growing around the bottom, a strand of wet, dark hair on a warm cheek. I could see him in my mind’s eye, standing in some hotel shower with water cascading down his back. There was an angry red burn on his leg.
I imagined running my hands down that firm, tanned skin. He arched his back and gasped and I pulled away sharply, creating some distance between his mind and mine. Then I pressed harder.
“Skye,” he said out loud. I could hear him echoing through the link, even though all I could really see was his mouth opening and his eyes closing. I felt the sensation of lips ghosting over mine and a wet leg slipping between my thighs.
I could see that he hadn’t moved. He stood in the shower, reacting to my manipulation of the link, but remaining still and letting his body react. But I could feel him. His legs tangling with mine, his lips and tongue pushing insistently against mine, his hands in my hair. I wasn’t the only one pushing my wishes through the link. There were two of him: the Daiki in the shower, and the Daiki in the link, touching me the same way I touched him. His penis was red and proudly erect in the shower as his ghosting hands teased my breasts, sliding down my back and thighs. I realized that the Daiki I could see – the one in the shower with the hard-on – was grinning. Smirking, actually.
