by Kat Cotton
He fell for that and followed me but stayed on the outskirts. Not me. I wanted to know all about these little beasties.
“Holy shit, check out the length of that tapeworm.” I ran to a display on the wall. “It’s longer than I am, and it’s tripled around. Hell, that is one huge mother.”
Kisho not only didn’t look at me, he didn’t look at the worm, either.
“There’s no kitsune here. Let’s go.”
“But there’s all this other cool shit. Take a photo of me with this worm.”
But Kisho had fled. I wasn’t sure if Kisho throwing up would work in my favor or not, so I followed him out. That tapeworm had been epic, though. I doubted I’d ever see a tapeworm that big again in my life, and I didn’t even have a photo.
“SALT AND TOBACCO MUSEUM?” Kisho pursed his lips. “I don’t think the kitsune is that interested in the wacky tourist attractions of Tokyo.”
Yeah, that was definitely a reaction. A bit of annoyance was worth trudging around these places, although I still hadn’t found a vending machine selling used panties.
“It’s worth a shot, and it’s only 100 yen entrance fee. That’s super-cheap.”
Kisho shrugged and followed me. I think he still felt a little bilious from the parasites. Weird that a vampire, even a half-vampire, would be so squeamish. I bet if Nic had been here, he’d have loved the parasites. I didn’t want to admit it because I really hated that vampire, but I kind of missed Nic. Sometimes I thought of really snarky things to say to him, and they never worked as well in text. Even then, he rarely answered because he was too busy playing Unicorn Daddy.
When I found out the entrance fee was 300 yen, not 100, I almost said no, but the annoyance on Kisho’s face made me pay it.
“Holy shit, there’s a boat made out of salt.”
Kisho didn’t even look. What the hell was wrong with the guy? Even if you were having a little hissy fit, a boat made out of salt was something worth getting excited over. He just hung out looking too cool for school. I took a photo and sent it to Nic. He replied with a thumbs-up.
The rest of the museum was a little boring. It didn’t take me long to get through it.
“Okay, now to the next place on our list,” I said to Kisho.
He snatched the list out of my hand and screwed it up.
“Hey, that’s not helping.”
He didn’t even apologize. I was definitely getting him close to exploding. I really should’ve insisted on the Hello Kitty Land. That would’ve totally pushed him over the edge. Only problem was, that cutesy Hello Kitty shit might’ve pushed me over the edge first.
“There’s somewhere I need to go,” he said. “You don’t have to come with me. In fact, you probably shouldn’t.”
“I’ll come.”
“Maybe it would be better if you went shopping or something.”
So, he didn’t want me going with him. That just made me more determined. I’d go with him no matter what. I bet he wanted to do something fun without me. Maybe he wanted to go to some bizarro sex club or something like that. No way would I miss out.
We walked back to the train station. I saw some amazing boots in a shop window, but I couldn’t stop. Kisho would give me the slip, and that would be end of that.
“It would be best if you amused yourself for a while.”
“You amuse me good enough,” I said.
Even though Kisho really, really didn’t want me going with him, he’d never say that straight out. Not because he cared, just because he was too polite.
He walked off. I followed him. He couldn’t stop me from doing that.
He got on the train. I got on the train too.
The midday train was much less crowded, so I had no excuse to press against him. I couldn’t believe how quiet it was. No one talked on their phones or had stupid, loud conversations. A couple of people napped. That seemed pretty smart to me.
We got off the train. The area looked similar to where Mr. Yamaguchi lived, but I had no idea. The whole city confused me.
I trailed Kisho along a narrow street. This didn’t look like the area for a bizarro sex club, but then, who knew? Maybe quiet, peaceful areas were the best places to have sex clubs. Less obvious.
Kisho walked in front of me, stooped over with his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. I walked behind, watching his back. Even though I’d thought of giving up on him, I knew I never would. I didn’t like many people in this world, but he was one of the good ones.
Even though it looked like no cemetery I’d ever seen before, I knew that was where Kisho was taking me. Those marble pillars might not look like Christian graves, but the grave-ness of them was all too clear.
First of all, Kisho went to a little shed and got a wooden bucket that he filled with water and then picked up a scrubbing brush. Then he went to a kiosk and bought some incense.
When he walked off, I followed him.
“I think you should stay here,” he said.
“But...” I could talk him into taking me. He couldn’t stop me from following him, anyway.
“No buts. You don’t realize, do you? You have that energy.”
What energy did he mean? I had some kind of weird energy going on?
“How long have you felt cold for?” Kisho asked me.
I had felt a bit cold for the past few days, but that was just because it was winter and the heating never seemed to work anywhere.
“Since we arrived here. It’s freezing, and the heater at our hotel is dodgy.”
“No, it was before that.”
Hell, yeah, it was. Even though it’d been summer when I left Australia, it’d been freezing. Now, it was like the core of my being had frozen.
Fuck, it’d been the Vampire King. When I’d kissed him, some kind of weird energy exchange had gone on. I’d almost lost myself in that kiss. Not figuratively, like the kissing had been super-good, but literally. The boundaries between the two of us had begun to dissolve. That’s when the coldness had started. Other things too. The tiredness. And Kisho’s distance from me.
Maybe it wasn’t me he hated. Maybe it was the remnants of the Vampire King’s energy. I loved that Kisho didn’t hate me personally, just the bit of his father that remained inside me.
That thought was much dirtier than I’d intended.
I didn’t want the Vampire King’s energy inside me, anyway. Gross and disgusting.
“If we went to the shrine, you could be cleansed, but I’m not sure that would be enough.”
I’d longed to hear that softness return to his voice, but now that it had, it made me want to cry. Along with that softness was a deep melancholy.
Then I realized whose grave he wanted to visit. His mother’s. And I knew why he didn’t want me there. He’d never blatantly say that I’d been so sullied by his evil father that I wasn’t good enough to meet his dead mother, but that was the core of the matter.
I couldn’t believe I’d not put all this together before. It was like I’d become one of those people so wrapped in themselves that they couldn’t see what was happening around them. Maybe that had been part of the Vampire’s King curse, too.
I wished I’d not come here with him.
Chapter 7 Clem: Kisho's Mother
I sat down on a small bamboo bench near where Kisho had filled his bucket.
“You go. I’ll wait,” I said.
He nodded, then walked off.
Poor Kisho. I watched him walk away through the trees. I pulled my coat around me, shivering in the cold breeze. Now that Kisho was out of sight, I was completely alone. Not one other person in this whole graveyard. I sure as hell wasn’t scared of spooky shit; I made my money from defeating it. But for once, I did have something I feared, and it wasn’t out there. This dark spot inside me scared the fuck out of me.
After we’d escaped from the Vampire King, I’d felt drained and horrible, but then in the confusion of traveling here and taking on this case, I’d pushed all that from my m
ind. I’d figured it’d sort itself out soon enough. It was never going to fix itself, though. I needed to do something to remove it. If I had been at home, I’d go to see Timon. He had all sorts of spells and charms. He’d know exactly what I needed—except that he was half a world away, and he’d run from his market stall when the Vampire King started causing trouble. Even if I went home, I might not be able to find him.
I’d ask Kisho when he returned. He’d said the shrine might help.
Since there was no sign of him coming back, I stood up. If I didn’t get up and walk, my legs might freeze completely off.
A couple of cats around the place. They looked pretty sleek and well-fed, and I bet they’d be friendlier than those mean cats at the café. One of them stretched out on a rock. I walked over to it and put my hand out to pat it.
The cat jumped up, hissing, his back arching. I pulled my hand away, but not fast enough. The back of my hand got a nasty cat scratch.
Screw cats. Who even needed them?
I reached up to the necklace around my neck. The orb Kisho had given me, the one I’d used to blind the Vampire King. It felt heavier and warmer than usual. I kept it between my thumb and index finger as I walked around. I’d grown used to wearing it and normally didn’t notice it but today, the feeling of it comforted me.
Most of the plots were tiny, with planks of wood coming out of the base, like giant ice cream sticks. Some had marble columns. Some had little urns or some plants growing over them.
Each one had a small container with burnt incense. Some of them had flowers or cans of beer.
Paths of flat rocks trailed around the graves. Between them, the ground was damp and moss-covered. The place smelled of dank earth, a dampness that never completely dried out.
There was no noise except for the wind blowing through the trees and the crows cawing. Everywhere I went in this city, crows followed me. Or maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe the city just had way too many of them.
I wished Kisho would hurry back. I really didn’t like this peace and quiet. It freaked me out. I’d much rather be in the middle of the bustle. Give me neon lights any time.
When I got back to the seat, Kisho approached me. Good. We could get out of here.
“I want to pay a visit to the shrine,” he said.
“Can I go?” I asked.
He nodded.
I followed him down a hill.
When we got to the shrine, Kisho went to a water basin where he picked up a scoop and poured water over his hands.
“Should I do that?” I asked. Since he’d said he wasn’t sure if I would be adequately cleansed at the shrine, I didn’t know if I should copy him.
He nodded, so I copied what he did.
He scooped up some of the water and swished it in his mouth. I did the same.
“Does it burn you?” he asked.
I jumped back. It didn’t burn. Should it? Was I that impure?
Then he smiled.
The first smile since the Vampire King thing. I wanted to punch the air and scream with joy. He’d smiled at me. He’d made a bad joke, and then he’d smiled. The friendship between us hadn’t died. It’d withered a little, but now it would bloom again.
I wanted to run to him, hold him tight and never let him get away again, but I held back. I needed to take this slowly.
“If I wanted to do the cleansing, what would I need to do?” I asked him.
No matter what the cleansing ritual entailed, if it brought us closer together, I’d do it. I was sure it’d just be chanting some words and maybe burning a little incense.
“Similar to what we just did, but instead of a scoop of water, you stand under a waterfall.”
“A waterfall? A symbolic waterfall?”
“A real waterfall.”
“In this weather? Isn’t it freezing cold?”
He nodded and didn’t say any more.
I really, really wanted to repair things with Kisho, but maybe I could do it in summer. In summer, it might be nice standing under a waterfall. But I couldn’t imagine how getting even colder would fix anything.
“How long?” I asked.
“How long what?”
“How long do I have to stand there?”
“About five minutes.”
“Jesus! Don’t people’s nuts fall off?”
While Kisho went to the main shrine area, I looked around. A young girl in a long, heavy skirt worked at the little kiosk. What a weird outfit, like some kind of nun. A couple of people came to the counter and handed her notebooks. She took them, then gave the customers a number.
Strange. I’d ask Kisho about it.
All along the counter in wooden display cases, there were charms. Most of them were little bags in bright fabrics with symbols or Japanese words embroidered on them. Some had English translations of their purpose, and some didn’t. Maybe some of them didn’t work on foreigners. Or maybe the person doing the translation had lost interest halfway through.
I wondered if there was a cleansing charm. That would be much more comfortable than standing under a waterfall. Maybe Kisho had been joking again, because surely no one would do that.
The girl called out one of the numbers, and a customer standing near the drink vending machine came to collect their notebook.
She smiled shyly at me.
“Just looking,” I said.
When Kisho returned, he took a notebook out his bag. It looked a lot older than anyone else’s. Almost falling apart. He took it to the girl at the counter.
“Maybe I should buy a charm for Nic,” I said. “But there are no charms against being a butthole.”
“Nic has enough charm.”
That was true. As much as I hated that vampire, I had to admit it.
Kisho walked over to the vending machine and got a drink. He handed it to me. “It’s hot lemon tea. Even if you don’t want to drink it, it will warm your hands.”
I hadn’t realized how cold my hands had become until I wrapped them around that plastic bottle. It wasn’t just my hands, either. Kisho was being nice to me. Nothing warmed me more than that.
Maybe I should stand under that waterfall. If Kisho came with me, I might not even feel the cold. I’d be so heated from the inside. Maybe he’d even do it with me. After all, vampires didn’t feel the cold. He could stand beside me in a thin, white shirt getting all wet. Oh, yeah, his muscular arms with that wet fabric clinging to them—I’d definitely have enough internal heating to battle the cold.
“What’s the notebook thing about?” I asked.
“People bring them for the priests to write in. Calligraphy. It’s like a souvenir or proof of their visit. People collect them from shrines around the country.”
I raised my eyebrows. There was more to it. Kisho didn’t seem like he’d collect that kind of thing, and the notebook he’d handed over looked ancient. He’d been here before.
“The priests at this shrine know things. Kitsune are important to them. In all Shinto, kitsune are important, but this shrine in particular. This is the best way to get information.”
“So, they can tell us?”
He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Either way, it’s a lot more useful than trekking around stupid museums all day.”
As he said it, he tucked his hair behind his ear. God, I had no idea why, but that simple gesture almost had me melting into a pool of molten Clem Starr-ness at his feet. Today was a good day.
We walked together, and he showed me the kitsune statues.
“These are good kitsune. They protect the temple.”
Most of the fox statues had red bibs that stood out against the grey stone.
“When this case is over, I’ll do the purification,” I said. It was worth a few minutes of discomfort if things were good between us again.
Chapter 8 Nic: Blood
Vlad flipped over the bars. He did it perfectly every single time, so perfect and so cute. I filmed him as he trained. Hiding my precious unicorn baby away from the world seemed l
ike such a shame. I’d post it to Instagram, though.
“One more time,” I said to him.
He rubbed chalk on his hands and took a run-up. I had score cards now, and I had the ten ready.
He ran up to the bars and started his flip, then crash! He plummeted to the floor.
I ran to him. Maybe he’d been joking around and he’d jump up laughing. He never ever missed.
But he didn’t.
“Are you okay?” I asked. Of course he’d be okay. He had super-healing. Nothing could kill him. But I didn’t want him to be in pain, either.
I helped him get up.
“Again?” he asked.
I nodded. He never tired.
But he ran to the bars again and once more fell to the floor.
When I went to help him up, he didn’t want to try again.
“Sleepy time,” he said. “Dog?”
Hellhound was lying on a cushion on the floor.
I put the back of my hand to Vlad’s forehead to see if he was okay. He did feel a little warm. Definitely not icy cold as usual. He was sick. Except vampires didn’t get sick.
“Okay, sleepy time,” I said to him.
I knew all the Demon Child legends. He woke, went into a massive feeding frenzy with three or four big attacks, then hibernated for five or ten years. The last time he’d slept, he wasn’t just hibernating, though; he’d been cursed to keep sleeping. Someone, who might or might not have been the Vampire King, had awakened him from that sleep. That was when the madness had begun.
Now, his entire life had changed. No feeding frenzy, no long sleep. Was that what this sudden weakness meant? The kid needed to hibernate again? I hoped not. I had limited time left to train him. It was three years until his hundredth death year. After that time, it became impossible to train a vampire. Normally, vampires found a pack way before that, or else they perished on their own.
“Are you okay?” I asked him again.
“Tasty?” he asked.
“You’re hungry?”
He rubbed his belly. “Hungry.”
He did look even paler than usual, and he had dark circles under his eyes. I’d been a bad father to him. I’d not even noticed. But he’d seemed fine and full of energy.
