The bartender–and by bartender, I mean a raccoon with slits for eyes, and a thick, muscular snake's tail–crawls across the counter and delivers two bright red drinks with a chitter and a grotesque, sharp-toothed smile. Trick flips him a coin as he picks up the two glasses.
"You brought a human here? What for?" the raccoon asks, its voice like rusty nails jabbing into my eardrums. "You need a fuck that bad?" The demon throws its head back with laughter as Trick grabs onto my wrist and pulls me along behind him. The whole while I'm standing there gritting my teeth and pretending I can't hear or see anything. "You must if you thought that hideous thing was worth world hopping with."
Trick ignores him–and I have no choice but to do the same–as he guides me out of the room and sets our drinks down at a quiet table in the corner. It's dark enough back here and far enough away from the machines–and their demon users–that I feel it's safe enough to ask a question.
"Why is this all happening to me?"
"Because you," Trick says, sitting down hard on the booth seat, the reflection of gaming machines bright in the shiny surface of his shades, "are the next Ten-Tei, the Heavenly God. Or in this case, goddess, if you believe in gendered nouns." Trick sips his drink and lets out a pleasant sigh before patting the cushion next to him. "Take a seat and we'll talk. We can't stay here long; news travels fast in the demon world. We've got maybe an hour before they realize we've world hopped and gossip will travel. Everyone and their fucking grandmother will know Mizaru was defending a human who can see demons."
"Mizaru? I thought your name was Trick?" I ask, sitting down and switching my drink with Trick's. He gives me a funny look, but I'm not about to suck down a date rape drug. It's just safer this way. Let's just say I've lived a life that demands caution at every turn.
"It is," he says, licking sugar off the rim off the fruity beverage. It's got a familiar fruity taste, but yet I'm positive I've never had anything like this before. "Mizaru is my title. It means See Not in Japanese."
"That's ... offensively descriptive," I venture, playing with the thin black straw in my drink. Trick just smiles cryptically, laying his staff across both our laps so he can relax into the booth.
"I'm used to it," he says, but with a bit of venom in his voice that I can't help feel is directed at me. Why, I have no idea. It's clear this whole thing is complicated as fuck. Which, once again, means my life is now irreparably screwed or that my crazy has reached a whole new level. "Fucking still feels good. It's just like doing it in the dark." He takes another drink and then turns to look at me. Well, at least it seems like he's looking at me, even if he's not. "I'm just glad my favorite hobby and my best skills are still well-utilized."
"Charmed, I'm sure," I say, trying not to like this barefoot, shirtless prick with the staff. There's an old part of me, the part that used to drink and party and get high, that finds Trick undeniably attractive. But like I said: caution. That's my mantra now and there is nothing cautious about this asshole.
"After this, we'll find your Sanshi. We can't really do much until that's accomplished anyway."
"My ... what?" I ask, rubbing at the side of my temple. Daniel loves Japanese anime and manga, so I've seen and read a lot, even though it's not really my thing. All of this feels familiar somehow, like even though I don't know the words, I've heard them before.
"Your Three Corpses," he says casually, still 'looking' at me and sipping his drink.
"Oh, well, thanks for doing your best not to be cryptic. Based on that explanation, I totally and completely understand now." Trick reaches out and puts his warm palm against the side of my face, igniting all those wild, sparking urges inside of me. I want to pull away, but when I feel his thumb trace across my lips, I get the idea that he's reading my facial expression with his hand. I decide to let him touch me.
"Don't frown so much; I'm getting there." He teases my mouth with the whorls of his thumb and then pulls his hand away, cutting off that strange surge of electricity between us. "Every person born in your world is born with three spirits inside of them." I must be projecting a serious amount of denial because Trick stops and puts his hand back on my face, touching my disbelief with his fingers. "Believe it or not, it's true. And it's those spirits that report back to Ten-Tei, the Heavenly God. They let the gods know how honest, responsible, and respectful a person has been. They also tell the gods when someone has royally fucked up."
Now I'm just staring at Trick, because ... well, shit. Would you believe that crap at first go?
"Don't take my word for it," he says, brushing my lower lip one last time with his thumb before dropping his hand into his lap. "You'll see for yourself soon enough."
"So we're going on a quest for three dead bodies? I'd like to go back to my apartment, please." I finish my drink and set it on the table, enjoying the light buzz settling in my brain. Whatever was in that thing is strong. I have a pretty high tolerance.
"Not three dead bodies; Sanshi. Three Corpses. It's just a title. You'll see when you meet them." Trick taps his fingers on the table, and his forehead crinkles up in thought.
"Where are yours?" I ask, watching the orb on the end of his staff shimmer. It's like there's lightning trapped inside of it. Maybe it's the spirits of those demons he killed? But what do I know? I'm probably imagining the whole thing. Even if this is all truly happening, I know one thing for sure: I am no goddess.
"My Sanshi," he starts, and then exhales sharply. "Well, there's one right here." He lifts the staff up and taps the wooden end on the stone floor. "The other two were stripped from me." This last part is said with such ire that I get chills up and down my arms. It's rare to hear such hate in a person's voice. Most of the people in my life have been too crazy–or maybe too possessed–to feel anything at all. My parents didn't beat me because they disliked me; they did it for fun.
"Were mine stripped as well?" I ask, playing along with the scenario. Even if it is all a load of bullshit, it's interesting at the very least. "I mean, if we're all supposedly born with them, then where are they?"
"They stay inside a person, unless they have no other choice. Yours were stripped, yes. But you and me, we're going to get them back." Trick picks up his drink, downs the rest of it, and then stands up. When he pulls out a cigarette this time, I'm prepared for it. A few puffs of red smoke, and there's yet another doorway.
This time, it leads into a fucking swamp.
I'm talking marshes, mist, and gators.
Well, I don't exactly see any, but I bet they're in there somewhere.
"Let's go. The more worlds we hop, the less chance we have of being found." Trick stands to the side, like he's waiting for me to go first. I stare at him and the portal for a moment, considering my options. But further back in the casino, I hear a commotion, and a cold wave of dread washes over me.
"What is that?" I whisper, because even though I can't see it, I can sense that there's something terribly, terribly wrong out there. It's the same feeling a woman gets when she walks past a group of young men in a dark alley in the middle of the night. I hate to use this word since I believe in shades of gray, but ... evil. That's what it feels like.
Fucking evil.
"Devil," Trick says, pushing his shades back. Even though his eyes are white and empty, it's the expression on his face that gets me.
I'm up and stepping into that portal before I even take another breath.
5
The swamp is warm, almost stifling, and the ground is sticky and spongy. Five minutes into our walk, and I'm soaked in sweat and wondering if a devil really is as bad as it sounds.
"The devil ..." I start as Trick leads the way, using his staff to move debris from our path. I thought maybe the staff was like a walking stick or something, but he doesn't seem to need it to find his way.
"Monster boss," he says. As silly as that analogy is, at least it makes it easy to understand. "One of them anyway. They're looking for you. And if they find you, we're all dead."
"All?"
I ask as I pick my way through the thick foliage and wonder if I'm in Louisiana or something. Trick said world hopping, but how many worlds are there out there really? And it looks familiar enough that we could easily be somewhere I'd recognize on a map. "You mean, you and me and the ... Sanshi?"
"You, me, your Sanshi, and ... the other two." Trick sounds like he's talking about an ex-wife or something, someone he used to love and can no longer stand. There's no more pungent hate. I should know; I loved my parents once upon a time. But once that emotion sours, there's no going back.
"What other two?" I ask as my eyes notice bubbles breaking the surface of a nearby body of water. That can't be good. Whatever's down there ... I don't want to know.
"Kikazaru and Iwazaru," he says. "Hear not and Speak not."
"There are more of you?" I ask, studying the symbol on my wrist.
"Unfortunately, yes," Trick says, taking us up a short incline and then sitting down on a log to rest. It's for me, I can tell. His muscular ass could probably carry the moon and never need a break.
"One is ... deaf, and the other's mute?" I venture, putting together the pieces. That's when it clicks, and I get a slightly pleasant little tingle in my spine. "Wait. See no, hear no, speak no evil? The Three Wise Monkeys? Is that what this is all about?"
Trick smiles, but he doesn't respond. Instead, he gets out a cigarette and hands it over to me.
"You smoke it this time. See where it takes us." He pauses and cocks his head to one side, like he's listening for something. "That is, if that curse doesn't stop it from working." Trick pulls my pills from his pocket–it only goes to show how messed up I am that I didn't notice him taking them–and then chucks them as hard as he can into the water. Before they even hit the surface, something pops up and swallows them whole.
What. The. Fuck. Was that?
"You have a light?" I wait as Trick gets out his lighter and passes it over to me. When I was a teen, I smoked like a damn chimney. I don't do it much anymore, but a magical cig that takes me places? Why not?
Sucking in two deep lungfuls of the red smoke, I close my eyes and feel a jolt shoot through me.
"Oh, shit," Trick growls out, and I open my eyes to find him pushing up his shades. His eyes are as black as night, and the smile on his face is wicked sharp. "You did it there, Ten-Tei. Nice job."
"Please don't call me Ten-Tei," I say as I blow out a puff of smoke. Trick twirls one of his tattooed hands in the air and draws it into a circle. Inside the center, I see my apartment–and it's in fucking ruins.
The cabinet doors are torn off and shattered, the windows are broken, and the fridge is lying face down with spilled food spattered on the wood floors. There are demons everywhere, curled around the heads and hands and shoulders of the people trashing my place.
I hope my fucking cat escaped through one of the windows, because I can see Daniel’s cockatiel lying on the floor in a pool of blood and yellow feathers.
"Fucking hell," Trick mumbles, waving his hand and dissipating the smoke. It's as easy as that to get rid of the portal. "Try again, and this time, don't think about going home. It might be a while before you can go back there."
"What the hell are they doing to my apartment?" My heart is thundering, and there's this frantic sense of urgency washing over me. I want to go home and warn Daniel; I want to find my freaking cat. "And do they know we're here now?"
"Portals only work one way," Trick says, and that's when I feel a hand on my mouth, and an arm around my waist.
My body is yanked back, and I find myself stumbling back and into a hard, warm body.
"What the fuck?!" Trick demands, following us through and leveling his staff on the person behind me. As soon as I find my feet, they release me and step back. When I spin to face them, I find ... another man. Another gorgeous fucking man.
His eyes are the color of roses, and his hair is white and streaked with red. He smiles at Trick, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he lifts his hands up and signs something in quick succession.
"If she wasn't sharing her vision with me ..." Trick curses, gritting his teeth. "What are you doing here anyway?"
New Guy signs something else out, letting this cocky, little half-smile crawl across his features. His mouth is full and thick, with this little indent in his lower lip that draws my attention. As soon as he sees me looking, he raises both brows and then flashes a grin.
"I haven't seen you in three years," Trick says, obviously in response to the new guy's words. "How the fuck was I supposed to know where to find you?"
New Guy shrugs his big, broad shoulders and leans back against the wood wall behind him. It looks like we're in a cabin of some sort. And outside the windows, I see nothing but snow-covered pine trees and a flurry of fresh flakes.
Yep.
Total mind trip.
My eyes meet the rose-colored ones of the newcomer, and in them, I can read a thousand different emotions all at once. His face is beyond expressive; he doesn't even need to talk to tell me that he's excited to see me.
"Mizaru?" I take a wild guess, and get an even wider smile in response.
The man stares at me for a moment, and then signs something I can't understand.
"His name is Crew," Trick says with a scowl, spitting on the floor and then moving over to a sofa in front of a roaring fireplace. "And yeah, he's the Mizaru."
Crew lifts his arm up and flashes me his wrist, showing off the matching symbol. As soon as he knows I've seen it, he starts signing something else. Trick watches him for a while, but as we're standing there, his eyes fade from black to white, and he lets out a frustrated sounding sigh.
"How was I supposed to know you gave two fucks about the goddess? You're not exactly easily contactable, dude. And by the way," Trick continues, turning his attention to me. I can tell he can't see me anymore, but he's staring in my direction with those galaxy-like eyes of his. "I can't see to talk with him, and I highly doubt you understand his version of sign language, so we're pretty much fucked for communication unless he knows where Jensen is."
"Jensen ..." I start, but it's a simple conclusion to come to. Jensen ... is the Hear No guy. Easy-peasy.
Crew shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. And then he walks up to me, a move that I know Trick catches by the sound of his footsteps. The new guy puts one hand on my right shoulder and then uses the other to touch his lips, and then my own. It feels like he's asking permission for something.
"He wants to speak with your voice," Trick says. He sounds pissed about it, too.
"Like with the eyes?" I point to my face, even though Trick can't see me do it.
Crew grins again, and caresses my shoulder, sending a familiar surge of energy through me. It's much the same as when Trick first touched me, this wild bolt of lightning taking over my body.
A moment later, I hear this deep, velvety chuckle.
"What's your name?" Crew whispers, his voice strong and masculine, but with a certain cocky calmness that reminds me of a waterfall over rocks. It's beautiful to look at, musical to listen to, but don't be fooled: it's beyond powerful.
"Rayne," I manage to choke out, and he laughs again.
"Rayne." The way Crew says my name makes my entire body flush hot with excitement. "I haven't spoken in almost six years. I figured if I was going to get the opportunity, I may as well make the words I have to say count."
"Jesus," Trick grumbles, standing up from the couch and swinging his staff around to point the orb at the side of Crew's throat. "Not two minutes into meeting the girl and you're already trying to get her into bed."
"Best to celebrate our similarities rather than our differences then?" Crew asks, dropping his hand from my shoulder and licking his lower lip. His hair, previously white with red tips, is now black.
Interesting.
He looks down at me like he's considering kissing me, and then quirks this stupid, sultry smile before turning away. No sooner has he stepped back then his hair fades from a glor
iously silky black to white again.
He signs something at me that appears to be pretty fucking lewd, and I narrow my eyes.
"What does a fist slammed into a palm mean?" I ask as the new guy–Crew, I guess it is–walks in a circle around me. He's dressed in, no joke, a full suit of metal plate armor decorated with simple but striking black designs. He even has a cloak on, like some sort of knight in shining armor.
Not sure what to make of this guy, standing in his medieval clothing next to Trick's raggedy jeans and shades.
Trick just scoffs and stands up, nimbly making his way around the plush sofa and slamming his staff into the wooden floor boards.
"You don't want to know what it means," he says, giving his friend a ... well, not a look, I guess, but a tilt of the head. "This guy is bad fucking news."
Crew squints, shakes his head, and then signs something else that I don't understand. At least it doesn't look like he's coming onto me this time.
"Communicating without Jensen is going to be a fucking nightmare," Trick says. I figure he can probably hear the sound of Crew signing at me. "And you're too raw to channel energy non-stop." He pauses and runs his fingers through his dark hair. In the firelight, it looks less black, more brown. Like chocolate syrup drizzled over ice cream. Ugh. Or maybe that's just my hormones talking?
"You mean, like how he was able to talk just now?" I hedge, and Crew smiles at me. It's this crooked, bad boy smile that's at odds with his armor and cape. He looks like a badass though, with that big ass claymore sword strapped across his back.
"Exactly that," Trick says as Crew glances down at him. I thought I was tall at five foot ten. But Trick is taller. Crew is tallest. I'm guessing he's close to six foot five. He's huge, towering over the two of us with this look of subtle superiority on his face. I'm both attracted and repulsed by him at the same time. "And we don't exactly have time to sit here and train you." Trick looks at Crew and pushes his shades up and into his hair, revealing those milky white eyes of his. He squints them, his long, dark lashes sweeping down with the motion. "Pretty sure Jorogumo is onto us," he growls out, his voice low and dark in a way I haven't heard before.
Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection Page 4
