by Rose Haven
“Apple computers,” said a man with square glasses and a bandanna over his hair.
I cast around for an idea. When the professor finally pointed in my direction my mind went blank. Then my eyes fell on the pencil in my hand.
“Art supplies,” I said quickly, naming the brand of the pencil I was using and ignoring the snort of disdain from the professor. He didn’t think much of artists who painted, sculpted, or did anything physical. He’d told us in our first lesson that art had moved on from primitive paintbrushes and pens.
His speeches had made me cry on that first day. Now, they just made me feel hollow. I ignored him and kept sketching.
He went on to talk about the software we should be using and the composition of the ads we would be making. I hadn’t come to New York to learn about marketing, but I took notes anyway, writing in tiny letters next to the sketches of Diaki’s forearms. My mind started to wonder. I was meeting Daiki for lunch after class. Our last lunch date had been postponed when hunters killed Terry and kidnapped me.
Daiki had attracted the monster hunters after several months of roaming the streets at night, wearing a mask and protecting people from muggers. He’d even saved me from a man who’d tried to take my wallet in the alley outside of my apartment. But monster hunters kept an eye out for strange injuries, and after several men had shown up in hospital with burn marks on their faces, the hunters came to New York to find the dragons responsible. They ended up torturing and killing Terry, and then taking me as bait for Daiki. They were dead now. Ichiru killed them.
I checked my phone to make sure that Daiki hadn’t texted to cancel on our date. We texted each other so much that I was worried that Mama and Daddy would kill me when they got the bill at the end of the month. When I saw that there were no new texts, I leaned back in my seat and let the droning from the pretentious professor wash over me as I counted the minutes until lunch.
Chapter Two
“How was class?” Daiki asked when he picked me up from the Institute. He was wearing his usual dark shirt over boot-cut jeans and looked good enough to eat.
I was wearing my usual long skirt and white blouse, and looked like I’d just finished milking some cows. “Okay,” I replied, kissing him on the cheek and feeling the familiar jolt of electricity go racing through my body.
There was a brief flash of something in his expression – some tiny, indecipherable sense of wrongness that I couldn’t quite place. Before I could figure it out, the expression had melted away and was replaced with something close to concern. He looked me in the eye and I felt a nudge against my brain, like something was trying to butt into my thoughts. Then Daiki’s voice spoke inside my head: Just okay?
I looked at him quizzically. He couldn’t actually project his thoughts into my head, could he? Daiki and I had an empathetic link, which had come in handy when I’d been kidnapped. I hadn’t realized that it could be used to pass messages – I’d thought it was a ‘Break Glass in Case of Emergency’ type of thing which was triggered when one of us was in danger.
I stared into his eyes and concentrated as hard as I could on the words: Your butt looks great in those jeans.
Daiki blushed and I blinked in surprise.
“Uh, thanks,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at me fondly. “I didn’t think that would work.”
“I didn’t even think to try it,” I replied.
“Oji-san thought that it would take months for us to learn it,” Daiki said. Then he smiled. “I guess we proved him wrong.”
He kissed me then. Right there, in the middle of the street, as my classmates filtered out of the Institute and headed towards their regular lunch haunts. I felt the purr of electricity between us – a byproduct of the link. Then I heard his voice in my head.
Can you hear me?
Yes, I replied, turning my head to deepen the kiss and closing my eyes against the rush of sensation.
I came here to talk to you and you’re distracting me.
I’m sorry… I pressed my chest against his. I lied. I’m not sorry.
Daiki pulled away and licked his lips as if he could taste me on them. “Let’s go get lunch,” Daiki said, taking my hand and leading me away.
“We’re not going to Sakura no Yūshoku?” I asked. Sakura no Yūshoku was the name of his grandfather’s restaurant, where we’d first met.
He shook his head. “I kind of had a fight with Oji-san, it’s probably best if I give him some space.”
Maybe that was why he’d looked so grim, I thought. “What did you fight about?”
He squeezed my hand. You. Us. The hunters. Staying in New York.
His voice lingered in my head, as if he’d meant to say something else but had chosen not to. I felt a rushing wave of guilt at the thought of Daiki and Ichiru fighting over me. Ichiru had been nothing but kind to me – in fact, he was the first person to be kind to me since I’d moved to New York City. I didn’t like the idea that I could be driving a wedge between him and Daiki.
Daiki squeezed my hand again. “I can’t hear you thinking but I know you’re starting to feel guilty. There’s no need for that, honestly.”
“But –”
“Skye,” he said sternly. “Oji-san and I will work this out.”
I still felt a rumbling of guilt, but tried to quiet my mind so that Daiki wouldn’t catch any of it. He led me to an out-of-the-way café down the street from the Institute. Once we were inside he led me to a quiet corner where he pulled the chair out for me. I sat down and glanced at the menu. The food looked pretty cheap by New York standards.
“So,” he said, folding his arms on the table and staring across from me. “How do you want to do this?”
“How about I ask questions,” I said. “And you answer them?”
He nodded. We’d agreed after the kidnapping and Terry’s murder that I should know as much about Daiki’s world and powers as I wanted to. Daiki and his grandfather still weren’t sure whether they would leave town or not, but in the mean time I was still in the dark about what they were capable of. I didn’t like being in the dark.
We were silent as the waitress came to take our orders, and when she was gone I let out a deep breath. “What are we?” I asked.
“You’re a human,” he replied slowly, like I was brain damaged. “And I’m a shifter.”
“No – I mean, are we together?” I felt so childish asking, but I needed to be sure. He’d saved my life, we’d had amazing sex, but I still wasn’t entirely sure about whether to call him my boyfriend or not.
Daiki went pink and shook his fringe down so that it covered his dark almond eyes. I got distracted, briefly, remembering how they would glow gold when we were intimate, but his next words brought me back to the present: “I told Oji-san that you’re my girlfriend,” he said. “That’s how I’ve been thinking of you in my head.”
I concentrated really hard on the Hallelujah chorus and Diaki chuckled when he caught the message in his mind. “I’ve been thinking of you as my boyfriend,” I answered.
He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Good.”
We were silent for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Then I asked: “What does Ichiru think about you having a girlfriend? After last time…” I let the sentence trail off. Daiki had dated someone pretty seriously when he’d been living in Chicago, but it had ended badly when he’d told her the family secret. She’d plastered his secrets all over the internet and almost gotten him killed by hunters. Daiki had been wary of getting close to people ever since, so I was grateful that he was taking a chance on me. On us.
“There are a lot of differences,” Daiki said. “You took the dragon thing pretty well. You’re not afraid of me. You’re not the reason the hunters found us this time.” His eyes went dark. “I am. Oji-san won’t be letting me forget that anytime soon. There’s the link to consider, as well. I’ve never had… this –” He waved at the air between us. “– before. Neither has Oji-san, but he respects it.
”
“You mentioned that before – is it really that big of a deal?”
It had felt strange at first, feeling that jolt of electricity whenever I touched Daiki. It made me feel safe. The link I shared with Daiki had kept me grounded ever since I’d arrive in Manhattan, fresh from small-town Texas with dreams of becoming a famous artist. Without the security of the link, I’d probably have run back to Round Table with my tail between my legs.
Daiki nodded. “Shifters can search their whole lives and never find a link.” And I found mine by accident, he added. I turned my hand so that we were palm-to-palm and squeezed.
“Well I guess we’re pretty lucky then,” I replied.
He nodded again, smiling warmly. Our food arrived and I reluctantly let go of his hand. We hadn’t known each other very long, but it felt like I’d known him my whole life – we were already connected via telepathy, for crying out loud.
I felt myself falling in love with him and I was powerless to stop it.
“What exactly can you do?” I asked, taking a sip of my coke and looking at him from over the rim of the glass.
He sipped his own drink. “You’ve seen everything. The wings and the fire are the extent of my powers. That’s what I can do on my own, at least. I don’t know the extent of the link –” He waved between us again. “– or how much power we’ll both get from it.”
“I’ll get power?” I asked.
“You’ll be able to tap into mine,” he replied. He looked suddenly uncomfortable. “You know, the way that I…”
He trailed off and I felt a shiver creep through my veins. During the fight with the hunters, Daiki had been injured and had tapped into the link to control my body – using me to fight off one of his attackers. I’d been completely helpless against him. That was the one and only time that Daiki’s powers had frightened me, and I would have been more concerned if he hadn’t been completely sickened by what he’d done. Even now, he stared across the table at me with apology and guilt etched into every line of his face.
I sent a wave of affection and forgiveness through the link and said: “Break glass in case of emergency.”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
“And your grandfather can heal?” I asked, steering the conversation back to the original question. I’d seen Ichiru heal a small bullet wound in Daiki’s arm after the fight.
“Yes,” Daiki replied. “He can heal most wounds, as long as they’re not too life threatening. His blood is a little purer than mine – my mother, his daughter, had the same gifts, but my father was much less pure.”
So their powers were dependent on their bloodlines. I mulled that over for a moment. I wanted to ask him what our babies would be capable of, but even in my twitterpated state I knew that it was far too early in the relationship to be discussing potential children.
I opened my mouth to ask another question, but a sharp flash of fear cut through my mind. I gasped at the sensation and looked up to see Daiki’s pale, horrified eyes gazing over my shoulder at the entrance to the café. Swinging around in my chair, I saw a man and woman standing in the doorway, backlit by sunlight and staring across the room at Daiki and me. They both had long, slicked black hair and Asian features.
In my mind’s eye, I saw a series of images which I knew were memories. Daiki’s memories. He must have been sending them through the link without even realizing. I saw a little Asian boy running around a green lawn, being chased by a man with a bright, blinding smile and golden eyes. A woman laughed with them. Then the scene changed and I was standing in a burning house, listening to a child’s screams as a dark form flew overhead, diving towards a man and woman armed with crossbows. The crossbows fired and the dark form fell from the sky and hit the ground with a sickening thud. I saw Ichiru, younger and thinner than I had ever seen him, holding the little boy against his chest and take off, beating his thick black wings as the pair with crossbows kept firing.
I turned back to Daiki. All of the blood had rushed from his face and he gazed at the people who’d just entered the café. His eyes met mine and I could feel the waves of anxiety, horror, and blind fury coming off of him. He recognized the pair, and thanks to the insight into his memories, I recognized them too: they were hunters.
The hunters who’d killed his parents.
Chapter Three
Daiki’s arms trembled as the hunters made their way to our table. I tried to push comfort and safety through the link, but I didn’t know how much was getting through. He didn’t react to anything I was thinking. His eyes were narrowed and glowed gold as the hunters joined us.
“Hamada Daiki-kun,” the man said, nodding to Daiki and taking a seat at our table, speaking in rapid Japanese as Daiki glared at him. His shoulders shook with barely suppressed emotion. The woman took a seat on the opposite side, boxing Daiki and me in. Both she and the man had wrinkles at the corners of their eyes and white strands through their hair.
I didn’t understand a word the man was saying, and I wasn’t getting anything from Daiki through the link, so I cleared my throat.
“Excuse me,” I said, drawing the attention of everyone at the table. Daiki was so startled by me speaking up that his eyes went back to their usual warm brown. “Terribly sorry, but I don’t speak Japanese. Would you mind speaking in English please?”
The woman looked sharply at me. She had a scar over her eyebrow and a dragon tattoo circling her neck. “You are human,” she said with a strong accent. It wasn’t a question.
“And you’re a hunter,” I replied. “Is there something you wanted?”
They looked startled, but they rallied quickly. “I am Minako,” the woman said. “This is my brother Hikaru. We are of the Ootori family.”
“Never heard of them,” I said, ignoring the voice in my head – the one that sounded like Mama – that told me I was being rude. I could feel Daiki’s distress bleeding through the link as he practically vibrated in his seat. Now wasn’t the time to be polite. “I’ll ask again, is there something you wanted?”
The man, Hikaru, chewed on his lip and turned back to Daiki, speaking in the same rapid Japanese and ignoring me completely. Daiki had recovered, and suddenly I could hear a translation of the words Hikaru was saying in my head.
The Gregory brothers missed their check-in. You were a fool to think that we would not investigate.
Daiki responded in Japanese: They killed a human girl. They tried to kill us. We were defending ourselves.
The human was collateral damage.
“Collateral damage?” I snapped, turning their attention back to me. “Terry Malcolm was my friend.”
The hunters looked startled. “You speak Japanese?”
“I told you I don’t,” I replied.
I didn’t elaborate. The hunters shared a look and Minako licked her lips like a snake tasting the air. “Definitely human,” she told her brother.
“The Gregory brothers kidnapped me and used me as bait,” I went on. “They seemed to think that they were doing me a favor.”
Hikaru bowed his head briefly and spoke in an accent so heavy that I had to strain to understand him. “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”
“That’s a line from Star Trek,” I hissed at him.
Daiki stood up, knocking his chair backwards so that it landed with a heavy crash on the floor. He tossed a wad of cash on the table and strode around to take my hand, pulling me gently to my feet and leaving the café without another word to the Ootoris. They watched us go.
I kept a tight hold on Daiki’s hand as he practically galloped away from the café. The electricity between us was almost painful as I pushed warm thoughts through to Daiki. Eventually, when we were about a block away, Daiki slowed down and sent me an apologetic look. Thanks, he replied, sending warm thoughts tinged with alarm and fear back through the link. I realized that we were heading in the direction of Sakura no Yūshoku. I could only imagine how Ichiru would react when he found out that the hunters who’d killed D
aiki’s parents were in New York.
“They’re here to kill you, aren’t they?”
Daiki didn’t answer. He sent some sorrow and affection through the link. I felt my heart fall into my knees.
“We’ll think of something,” Daiki said.
I remembered the night when we’d made love and fallen asleep in each other’s arms, when he’d promised that he wouldn’t leave New York. That the hunters wouldn’t scare him away from me. But I was starting to see just how dangerous it was for him to stay in the city now that hunters knew where he was. If the Ootori family, the family who’d cut down Daiki’s parents when he was a child, had been confident enough to reveal themselves to their prey, then maybe New York wasn’t the safest place for him right now. Maybe he needed to get out while he still had time?
Daiki led me by the hand towards Ichiru’s restaurant. It was dark inside and smelt of sweet sauce and frying chicken. I could hear Ichiru humming in the kitchen.
“Oji-san!” Daiki called. He spoke in Japanese and translated for me through the link: We need to talk.
One moment!
Skye is here.
Ichiru appeared, wiping his hands on his apron, and smiled at me. It wasn’t as bright as his usual smile. It was reserved, as if he wasn’t sure whether he was happy to see me. I had to remind myself of Daiki’s romantic history so that I wouldn’t feel terrible about the sudden change of attitude. Ichiru didn’t share an empathetic link with me. He had no reason to trust that I had good intentions.
The Ootoris are here, Daiki said in Japanese, translating through the link as he spoke.
Ichiru’s reaction was instantaneous. He reeled backwards and put his hand on his chest. “You saw them?” he said.
They spoke to us, Daiki replied.
Ichiru’s cheeks went red. I was reminded of the night the hunters took me, when Daiki had been injured in the fight and Ichiru had let out an inhuman screech. It still made me cringe to remember it. The look of blind fury on his face had been so unbelievably different from his usual kind smile that I’d been convinced that I’d imagined it. Now, looking at him in the dim light of the restaurant as he listened to Daiki explain our encounter with the Ootoris, I knew that I hadn’t imagined it.
