Stone 02 Kato

by DB Reynolds

  Kato attracted a lot of attention as they walked from the parking lot, and she worried at first that it was because of the sword hilt poking over his shoulder, or the beautifully tooled leather wrist guards he’d salvaged from the clothing he’d been wearing when he’d broken out of his stone prison. But it was much simpler than that. His black T-shirt stretched over his chest and shoulders and showcased every muscle of his arms and torso. He was wearing the 501 jeans he seemed to prefer over khakis, and she certainly wasn’t going to argue with the choice. He filled them out to perfection, cupping his package like an offering, and clinging to his thick thighs.

  She frowned as a dark-haired co-ed just happened to bump into Kato, then apologized prettily. What the fuck? Was she invisible? Did it not occur to these children that she was with Kato? For all they knew, she was his girlfriend, his wife even. Cornfed little hussies.

  She moved closer to his side, but knew better than to take his hand. They might not know exactly what had happened to Ryan, but it was a good bet that it had something to do with the scroll. And they both needed their hands free, if that was the case.

  “Are you sensing anything?” he asked in a low voice, as his eyes never stopped searching their surroundings.

  “Nothing,” she assured him. “I’m just anxious.”

  He nodded his understanding, though she wondered if he’d ever been anxious himself. It seemed as if he’d been trained from childhood to be the dark warrior he was, and he was completely comfortable in his skin. She’d never been that determined or that certain of her goals in life.

  “It’s that one,” she said, pointing at a beige stucco building that looked like all of the others, with its red tile roof. For all the uniformity, it was still a pretty campus, which introduced an oddly discordant note to their mission this morning.

  She slid her hand under her jacket and released the safety on her weapon where it rested in its shoulder harness. Believing that evil couldn’t coexist with beauty served only to deny reality.

  AS THEY TURNED down the walkway that would take them to the math building, Kato slowed and then stopped. “What do you sense now?” he asked softly. He reached out and took a cautious hold of her arm, careful of his strength, but at the same time determined to stop her from going into that place.

  “Kato?”

  The confusion in her voice made him aware he’d been so focused on studying the building and what he sensed inside that he’d lost some time. He turned with a faint, reassuring smile. “Tell me what you feel.” They didn’t have time for a lecture on demonic phenomena, but she needed to become more aware of her magical instincts and what they were trying to tell her.

  She glanced around. “The students. Look at the other buildings. They’re everywhere but here. It’s like they’re unconsciously avoiding this place.”

  He nodded. “Good observation, but what do you feel, Grace?”

  She gave him an impatient look, and he knew it was on the tip of her tongue to remind him that she wasn’t his student. But then her mouth tightened, as if to hold in the words, and she turned to study the building.

  He knew the moment she felt it. The stubborn irritation on her face gave way to confusion, and then fear. “Ryan,” she whispered.

  Kato swallowed his own irritation. Who was this Ryan fellow to her anyway? But that was for later. Much later. Right now, their focus had to be on the demon inside that building. Because there was no doubt that Grace’s friend had somehow managed to summon the third demon. The only question was how, and which form of nightmare was waiting for them this time.

  “Are you ready?” He didn’t insult her by suggesting she remain outside or stay behind. She wouldn’t have anyway, and if she was going to survive her own magical talent, she needed to learn what she could do with it. And what she shouldn’t do, like summoning demons.

  She took a moment to respond, staring up at the building. He could smell her fear, but only a fool wouldn’t be afraid in this situation. Or someone who’d faced far worse and survived, as he had. His only fear this morning was for Grace.

  She moved suddenly, pulling her gun from the shoulder holster she’d donned this morning and checking the chamber. He’d had her show him the basics of her weapon earlier, when they’d been getting ready. It was her gun, and he didn’t plan to use it. But battles rarely went according to plan, and a smart warrior never discounted any weapon.

  Holding the gun in one hand, keeping it low against her thigh, where it was mostly out of sight, but still available, she didn’t say anything, just studied the building intently as if she could see through the stone walls. He stepped closer, until their bodies were touching, and ran a hand down her back. She gave a tiny jerk of surprise, her eyes wide as she turned to stare at him.

  “You can do this.”

  Her jaw firmed, and she gave a final nervous shudder. Her shoulders went back, and she nodded. “I know. I’m ready.”

  Kato smiled, and tugged playfully on her now shorter braid. “Stay behind me until we know what we’re facing. And then spread out.”

  She nodded again.

  Dropping his hand, he stepped away and drew his blade. It immediately sensed the enemy nearby and vibrated in anticipation of the battle to come, a joyful song that found its twin in Kato’s own soul. His lips drew back, baring his teeth in a grim smile as he put his hand on the door and pulled it open.

  Evil. It saturated the air inside the building; it dripped from the walls. Humans, blind to the darkness, would find mundane explanations for these manifestations, but that didn’t change what they were. Kato hissed, hating the touch of that shit on his bare skin. He lifted his head and inhaled deeply.

  “Upstairs.”

  Grace bit her lip, nodding. “That’s where his office is,” she whispered.

  She didn’t have to whisper. She could have screamed to the rafters, and it wouldn’t have mattered. The demon knew they were here. It might not register Grace’s magic, but it sure as hell recognized Kato. It had probably sensed him coming the minute they entered the parking lot. Maybe sooner, depending on the particular demon. And Kato had a very bad feeling about this one.

  “Remember,” he said, staring upward as his foot hit the first stair. “Stay behind me until I give the word.”

  He didn’t need Grace’s whispered directions to know which way to turn when they reached the building’s second floor. The demon’s stink was horrendous. It filled his sinuses and coated the back of his tongue. Disgusting . . . and strong enough that Kato wasn’t surprised at what he found when he pushed open the door of Ryan Walker’s office.

  But Grace didn’t have his knowledge or experience.

  “Oh, no, no,” she cried in distress when the demon turned to face them. Because it wasn’t a demon, it was her friend Ryan. And this wasn’t an ordinary demonic manifestation; it was far, far worse. Demons manifesting on a plane other than their own were inherently vulnerable as they struggled to adapt and survive. Sometimes the environment itself was toxic to them, but even when it wasn’t—as was the case with the human dimension—they still had to feed constantly to remain alive, which meant they were always on the hunt, and every hunt exposed them to the enemy.

  But the demon Ryan had summoned, courtesy of Grace’s magic, was far more powerful than most. Rather than manifesting in its own vulnerable form, it had possessed the human mathematician in the flesh, taking over his body and feeding off him from the inside. The demon would still need to hunt, but it required only enough energy to sustain the human form.

  “Kato?” Grace’s pale eyes were filled with both horror and hope when she turned to him. The horror he could handle. The hope nearly broke his heart. Because the human body wasn’t designed to contain demonic energy, and especially not the energy of a demon powerful enough to force a possession. Eventually, her friend would begin to disintegrate like a piece of overripe fruit.

  Assuming Kato didn’t have to kill him first.

  As if she’d read his mind, Grace as
ked, “Will he. . . . I mean, when you kill the demon, will Ryan die, too?”

  He knew it was bad timing, and petty to boot, but a small part of his mind wondered, yet again, just what this guy was to Grace. It crossed his mind that if Ryan died, he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore, but it was only a stray thought. The kind of thing his mother would have encouraged. She wouldn’t have wasted the briefest moment worrying about the human, unless it benefited her to do so. Much to her disgust, her only son had grown to have very different priorities.

  Kato would do everything he could to save the human’s life. But not at the expense of Grace or the world she lived in.

  “Kato?” The demon’s voice was a perverted mimicking of Grace’s plea, the raw sound issuing from Ryan’s throat as the human’s vocal cords strained to produce the creature’s speech.

  Kato stepped carefully in front of Grace, blocking her from the demon’s sight. The creature would have access to Ryan’s thoughts, and who knew what the other man’s true feelings were? Maybe he still longed for her, or harbored a deep-seated resentment at her rejection of him—a resentment that could come to the fore at the sight of her with Kato. The demon would seize on negative emotions like that, pretending to give Ryan the revenge he sought, when in truth, it would be the demon glorying in the human’s pain when he realized what he’d done.

  “Kato,” the demon said again, but this time with a disturbing note of recognition. It grinned, baring teeth that were bloody with something he was sure Ryan would never have eaten raw. The creature laughed, a rasping noise that hurt human ears as much as it had to be hurting Ryan’s throat. “The missing son!” it crowed, laughing even more. “It all makes sense now.”

  Kato had warned Grace against conversing with the demons, but something about this dialogue was off, not the least of which because this demon not only knew the Dark Witch, but knew of Kato’s abandonment of her.

  Kato forced a laugh of his own. “‘Sense’ is not a word I generally associate with your kind,” he said dismissively. “Especially not when I find you hiding inside the skin of such an inferior creature.”

  Demon Ryan growled. “You know nothing. But I wonder,” it added slyly, “does she know who you are? What you’ve become?”

  He managed to conceal his puzzlement from the demon, but that didn’t stop him from wondering why the creature would ask that question. Obviously, the Dark Witch knew what he was; she’d created him. And by the same token, she’d known where he’d gone and whom he’d served when he left her. So why. . . . Oh.

  The demon laughed. “He gets it at last. Not the Dark Witch, fool, but the witchling who’s hiding behind you.”

  “I’m not hiding from—” Grace’s angry protest was cut off as Kato moved to block her attempt to step out from behind him. He hissed at her to be silent and grabbed her arm, bringing her right up against his back where he could conceal her from the creature’s eyes. It was bad enough that it recognized Grace’s magic. A witch—or any magical creature—would be a much better vessel for the demon’s possession. And there had been more than enough damage done by ignorance in this crisis. He didn’t want Grace inviting the demon in by accident.

  “Your problem is with me, foul creature,” Kato snarled.

  “I don’t have a problem,” Demon Ryan said, smoothing its hands over the human body like a lover’s caress. “I like this body.”

  “That body is not yours.”

  “But the human gave it to me,” the thing said quite reasonably. “He spoke the words that called me forth into his living flesh. I didn’t compel him. Even you know that’s impossible.”

  “He said the words, but he didn’t know their meaning. And therein lies your problem.”

  Demon Ryan shrugged. “Intent doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me,” Kato said, pushing Grace carefully out of the way of the blade he carried down his spine, freeing his draw.

  The demon leaned forward, its lip curling in hatred. “And who do you think created this problem of yours, witch’s son? Are you listening, witchling?” it called to Grace. “Ask him who wrote the scroll that summoned me. Ask him why it was written.”

  Kato knew what the demon was getting at. He’d known as soon as he’d seen the original scrolls at Grace’s beach house. And he’d wondered about the reason for it. But it seemed the demon knew more than he did.

  That didn’t mean he was going to let the thing manipulate Grace, however.

  “He’s referring to my mother,” he told her, without looking back. “The magic in the scrolls is hers.”

  Grace sucked in an audible breath, but he held up a hand, stopping her from talking. They could discuss the whys and wherefores at leisure when this was over with, and the demon wasn’t listening. Right now, they were balanced on a knife’s edge.

  But if the demon knew more about his mother’s situation than Kato did, now was the time to pick his brain. “Say what you will, but I know her work. The Dark Witch did not write these scrolls,” he said, wanting to draw the creature out.

  “I never said she did,” Demon Ryan agreed. “She was far too skilled to have done such sloppy work. But the spell is hers, so ask yourself this . . . why craft such a summons at all? Would the Dark Witch have called upon demonic assistance if you had not abandoned her? It was you who inflicted that fatal weakness upon her, Kato witch’s son.”

  Kato didn’t want to fall for the demon’s ploy. He was smart enough to know it for what it was, and yet. . . . He’d never had any love for his mother. But her tribe, his tribe, had always mattered to him. Not one individual, for they’d all treated him with the same combination of disregard and fear, but as a group. The families, the children—he’d been a warrior, responsible for their safety above and beyond whatever else he’d been to the Dark Witch.

  “Don’t listen to him.” Grace’s hissed whisper jarred him from his thoughts. “Remember what you taught me. He’ll say anything.”

  Kato blinked. She was right. This was bullshit, and he knew it. The Dark Witch had been powerful enough to survive without him. It was her own lust for power that would have driven her to such extremes, and he was not accountable for that.

  He grinned deliberately. “You may be right, demon. The Dark Witch may have overreached in her attempts to replace the power I provided her. Which means . . .” He reached back and drew the black blade, gripping it tightly with both hands as the sword caught scent of the demon and hungered, straining for its prey.

  Demon Ryan drew back with a hiss at the sight of the ensorcelled blade, but then, recovering its resolve, it bared its teeth in a bloody snarl and dug its hand into Ryan’s chest, fashioning a gruesome blade of its own.

  Ryan’s scream of agony seemed to echo beneath the demon’s cackle of pleasure, as behind Kato, Grace’s gasped “Oh, God,” was whispered on a sob of breathless horror.

  Kato’s thoughts were speeding, spinning through a thousand different spells, searching for a way to banish the demon and save Ryan’s life at the same time. He didn’t know how long it had been since the creature had seized Grace’s friend, but four days had passed since she’d given Ryan the scroll to work on. If one assumed the worst—and one always erred on the side of caution when dealing with dark magic—that was four days the demon had been digging its clutches into the human. It would have seemed like a lifetime for Ryan Walker. Kato only hoped the man was still sane when—if—he managed to expel the demon without killing Grace’s friend.

  As if understanding that its best chance was to deny Kato the chance to come up with something better, the demon attacked at once, wielding its grisly blade with a skill that seemed to confirm the creature’s hold on its human host. Kato had been one of the finest swordsmen alive in a time when every man wore a blade—his brother warriors had seen to it. But Demon Ryan’s skill was sufficient to challenge his abilities, anticipating the next thrust, the next parry, and the one after that.

  It shouldn’t have been possible. Even if the demon h
ad used the last four days to cement his hold on Ryan, the mathematician’s body shouldn’t have possessed the muscle memory for such a skillful battle. Unless there was more to Ryan than Kato knew. He wondered again what Grace hadn’t told him, before a narrow miss forced him to focus more on the demon’s blade and less on the woman he was protecting, lest he lose his life and have neither.

  He danced back several steps, barely evading a thrust at his belly that had been close enough to leave his shirt sliced open, his belly bare.

  “Fuck, Kato. Pay attention!” Grace swore. She’d stepped out to the side once the battle had begun, her gun held in a low two-handed stance. “Can I shoot this fucker?”

  “No,” he said tightly. “The demon will kill its host in spite if it senses defeat.”

  She shot him a quick worried look. “Then what can I do?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  Demon Ryan giggled obscenely as it listened to the exchange. “I’ll kill out of spite,” it trilled, its voice a high-pitched mockery, before it shifted its glittering gaze to Grace. “The boy’s already dead,” it growled. “You killed him.”

  But if the demon had expected a girlish collapse, it was disappointed. Grace was tougher than that. She curled her lip in a fair semblance of a snarl. “Fuck you,” she hissed through a clenched jaw, and then demonstrated once and for all that she was no wilting flower of a woman. She was also damn skilled with her weapon, firing twice in rapid succession, her bullets skimming the creature’s arms, first one and then the other, coming close enough that she left a furrow of bloody flesh on its left arm.

  Demon Ryan screeched its anger, while Kato shot Grace a surprised look.

  “A flesh wound,” she said dismissively. “He’s had worse.”

  Worse? When had mathematician Ryan been shot at all, much less wounded? There was more to this story, and he intended to find out what it was. But it wouldn’t mean much if he couldn’t get rid of the demon and save the human’s life.