“And what did you plan on doing with me?”
“We’ll take you hostage and call him out,” Twin replied. “The deal is, he gets you back safe and sound in exchange for the bead. That’s the smartest way to play it, you know. The whole reason I stuck around here was to try and steal the bead, and to watch for an opening when I could kill him, but it just wasn’t going to happen. He’s too tough. There’s not much I could do against someone like him all by myself. I even tried interfering when he was throwing down with that sword nut with the weird whistle trick, but it didn’t do any good. Which meant I was left with nothing to do but the plan I just mentioned.”
Twin let the tip of his left index finger slide down the head of the spear as he gazed intently at Su-In.
“Were you the one who tossed the back room, too?” asked the woman. “Just how have you managed to keep following me all this time?”
“I didn’t follow you. See, I was here all along.”
Su-In’s expression shook with astonishment.
“I didn’t disguise myself as your grandfather just now,” said Twin. “They found his body in the sea, right? Well, that was me!”
“Well then—who was the guy D found disguised as my grandfather before?”
“My partner. Actually, to be honest, he’s my brother. We were both born on the same day at the same time, so we don’t know which of us is older. Since he was also posing as your grandfather, no one really suspected me. Of course, that Vampire Hunter had a sneaking suspicion. When he ran me through out in the barn, I was scared out of my wits!”
“If he stabbed you, why didn’t you die?” asked Su-In.
“Because I’d turned myself into a corpse. Sure, you can stab a corpse all you like, but you can’t kill it twice. If someone wants to kill me, they’ll have to do it while I’m alive.”
That must’ve been one of Twin’s special warrior abilities. Transforming himself into a corpse so convincingly that even D couldn’t see through his disguise and being planted in the ground, he’d only gone into action when necessary, then sank back into the soil when he was done. If his comings and goings hadn’t been performed with positively inspired skill, there was no way he could’ve avoided detection by D.
“As I already said, Twin is a duo,” the young man continued. “But aside from the two of us, no one in the world knows that. If it ever got out, we wouldn’t be worth much as enforcers anymore. So, since you know now, I really can’t let you live. Once you’ve served your purpose, I’ll have to get rid of you.”
Twin’s hand reached for the end of the spear.
Su-In jabbed at him with all her might. All her anger over the deaths of her sister and grandfather was behind her thrust. Sliding between the man’s fingers, the steel tip of the weapon struck him square in the heart. Twin’s body shook, and then he seized the head of the weapon and pushed down on it. The business end of the spear was now behaving like a child’s rubber blade, much to Su-In’s surprise.
“See, this is what did it,” Twin said as he spread his other hand for her to see. The semitransparent mucus that seeped out into his palm was the very same substance that’d dulled the edge of D’s blade. “It’s a type of fat our bodies excrete. Not that we can make as much as we like whenever we like or anything, but we have enough to protect ourselves from a sword or a spear, or to keep a window shut. So give up already,” Twin said, but his last words came out in midair.
He probably didn’t even realize what was happening until he’d flown clear across the living room and slammed into the very same door he’d sealed shut. He hadn’t seen Su-In’s skill on the ferry, where she’d dealt with one of Shin’s puppets. But the way he twisted at the last minute and barely escaped hitting the door headfirst must’ve saved at least a bit of his warrior pride.
“Shit . . .”
As he got up from where he’d fallen to the floor with a face stark with anger, the tip of a whistling spear slammed into his throat and, warrior though his was, Twin vomited blood everywhere as he was knocked back against the door. Falling to the ground, his body then moved no more.
Although pain and regret drifted across her face for a brief instant, Su-In quickly regained her normal grit and pulled the short spear out of the man.
“I didn’t want to kill anyone, but that was for Grampa and Wu-Lin. And you would’ve killed me, too. Don’t idle now—move along to the next world. And be sure you don’t wind up a servant of the Nobility.”
Picking up her bag while still clutching the spear, Su-In headed once more for the kitchen door.
“Not yet.”
More than the voice, it was the cool air stroking the back of her neck that had an impact on Su-In, making her turn.
Twin was standing there with his back to the door that led to the living room.
Su-In stammered, “How on earth could you . . .”
“Did you forget already that you can’t kill a corpse? See, right before you stabbed me in the throat, I ‘died.’”
The bag fell from Su-In’s hand. Although she was trying her best to look natural, she had the short spear at the ready in front of her chest. But the instant Twin slid over to her without a sound, Su-In caught an intense blow in the solar plexus that rendered her unconscious.
“I’ve had enough of your screwing around. You wanna see what happens when a woman forgets her place? I’ll slice your nose off to show you a thing or two,” Twin muttered hoarsely, rubbing his throat all the while.
Squatting down by Su-In’s side, he put the blade of his knife to the base of her well-formed nose. Although he had the face of a young man of cultured upbringing, as a warrior he was perfectly comfortable doing things that would make anyone else’s flesh crawl.
Strength surged into Twin’s fingers.
.
“You lopped my head off, but I survived. Oh, how it hurt then. It hurt so badly I wanted to die.”
The snow flew fiercely, and the sound of the wind grew all the more sorrowful. But through the wind and the snow, Gilligan’s bitter tone flowed out like a river of gloom.
“But I persevered,” he said. “I kept going until I could get into this thing. You see, I did my homework for just such an unforeseen event. It didn’t matter that you’d cut my head off—I wasn’t about to just give up and die.”
His sword already drawn, D gazed at Gilligan and at the black machinery that had become his new flesh. Then the Hunter suddenly said, “You’re one of the ‘Blood Seekers,’ aren’t you?”
“Oh, so you’ve heard of us, have you?” Gilligan said, and then he smiled silently. “Vampire Hunter D—you are no ordinary Hunter, nor even an ordinary dhampir. But why don’t we see now which of us is closer to being a true Noble?”
Not responding, D brought his sword up perpendicular to his right shoulder—in the “figure eight” stance.
The Blood Seekers. In this world where the Nobility were the subject of fear and hatred, there was a cult that studied and worshiped their accursed blood—the very thing that made them so dreaded and reviled. All human beings face death one day, and the very thought of that eventuality can’t help but turn a person’s psyche to solid ice. And at that of all times, there’s one thing that some people will unconsciously crave—the secret of the eternal blood of the Nobility.
The fanatics who sought that secret so they might share its power—taking part in all manner of cryptic rituals and even going so far as to let Nobles drink their blood—had been dubbed “Blood Seekers.” To unravel the secrets of that blood, they would travel anywhere imaginable and learn everything they could about the Nobility—in ancient castles in desolate gorges, the sprawling remains of factories on lonely islands far out to sea, massive ruins that towered over the plains, and subterranean palaces where a wealth of information had been secretly cached.
Aside from his role as a kingpin in a Frontier town, Gilligan had another “role,” and as a Blood Seeker, he had undoubtedly studied Noble manuscripts, gotten his hands on their products and
mastered their technology, and even used his own body for experiments aimed at approaching the Noble condition. And it had borne results. The fact that D’s blade had taken his head off yet he’d still remained alive was evidence of that. And the fact that he was running around in a piece of machinery incomprehensible to most humans was still further proof, which would mean that the secret of this “bead” he was risking his life to get had to have something to do with that, too . . .
“This time I won’t let my guard down,” Gilligan said with boundless confidence. “I’ve repaired the damage you did, painted on another coat of armor, and improved the engine circuits. It’s twice as hard and twice as fast as last time. But if you’ll tell me where the bead is—or rather, if you’ll hand it over—I’ll make your death a relatively painless one. We’re out on the ice here—but go down forty feet and you’re in the middle of the ocean. Your Noble blood will only work against you there. I, on the other hand, would have no problem.”
The Nobility couldn’t cross running water, nor could they swim. Secure in those ancient and immutable laws, Gilligan must’ve hidden himself deep in the sea and waited for D. When he’d challenged the Hunter on dry land, it’d merely been to get in a little practice with the machine. And he’d also foreseen that if he were to demand the bead, D would be sure to come out there.
“Hey!” the third person shouted, speaking for the first time. Dwight had both hands cupped around his mouth as he continued, shouting, “Just what the hell is this bead we keep hearing about anyway?”
Without even turning toward the other man, Gilligan said, “D, don’t you want to know?”
Naturally, there was no reply. No doubt the only thought burning in D’s brain at that moment was a plan to destroy the murderous black machine. No, that wasn’t right. Beyond life and death, beyond anything and everything in the cosmos, this young man’s thoughts were surely lacquered with a darkness no one in the world could fathom.
The figure of beauty advanced without a sound. When he’d closed to within six feet of the motionless giant crab, his pace remained exactly the same, but a silvery flash raced from sky to earth. It even sliced through the falling snowflakes. Giving off a beautiful sound, the blade rebounded from the giant crab. Dodging the legs that assailed him almost simultaneously with his own blow, D leapt back a good six feet.
“I suppose you see how useless it is now. Maybe you should try the same thing you did last time and drink some of your own blood to bring out your Noble nature, eh? By all means, allow me the pleasure of beating you as you truly are,” said Gilligan. “Now, where is the bead?”
The sound of meshing gears totally shredded the normal sounds of the wind—it was the whine of the machine. Though its movements were less than fluid, it charged straight at D.
The tip of D’s sword came down.
That move sent the crab circling around in the opposite direction. Its top half spun around. The launchers for its murderous wires were now pointed at D.
White smoke rose with a Whoosh! A cloud of loose snow. Although the curtain of white D’s blade had thrown up from the ground was shredded an instant later, by the time its remnants had scattered in the wind, there was no sign of D on the ice field.
The crab was visibly shaken—apparently, it wasn’t equipped with any scanning devices. The pilot’s bubble spun around with dizzying speed, searching for the hidden D. Then it stopped.
The surface of the snow was flecked with red spots. Spaced a few yards apart and continuing across the ice floe toward the center, they were definitely drops of blood.
“You won’t escape me,” Gilligan cried from somewhere within the crab. “So long as you live, my dream will never come to fruition. No matter where you run, I’ll find you and kill you.”
And then the black mechanical monstrosity dashed off, its steps kicking up a cloud of snow that was almost beautiful. Even the great D couldn’t hope to rival the speed of a machine like this.
Less than four hundred feet in, the bloody trail turned left. A snowy hill blocked the crab’s field of view. Falling snow had collected over time on the irregular surface of the ice floes. D must’ve realized he’d be at a disadvantage fighting on the smooth field of ice. The bloodstains continued halfway up a slope of roughly fifty degrees.
Slowly the crab began to climb the frosty incline. Twice the snow gave way, but the machine deftly maintained its balance and climbed about twenty feet up the rise. At the top, there was no sign of D. The crab decided he must’ve concealed himself in the whitened banks. Jets of compressed air squealed in rapid succession, throwing up a cloud of snow. But the only scream was that of the wind.
The crab looked over the edge of the hill—the trail of blood continued there. Taking its own weight into consideration, it proceeded cautiously. If the snow and ice were to give way, it would prove problematic. Proceeding to what it’d apparently judged to be its limit, the machine had just stopped when there was a whirring sound as something wrapped around its leg. It was one of the wires the crab had launched earlier. By the time the machine realized the line had been thrown around it from behind and had turned around, a figure in black had already burst from the snow and had taken to the air like a mystic bird to close the distance between them. Though the machine tried to stop him with its other legs, they wouldn’t move. Actually, a total of four of them had been entangled.
By the time the wire guns started going off, D was already in midair.
The glint of the Hunter’s blade as he brought it down with one hand made Gilligan think of two things inside the machine’s interior. He’ll never break through, he first assured himself. But then he thought, No! Not there!
Yes, there.
D’s blade sank into the machine, and it cracked open. Two days earlier, he’d struck the exact same spot up in the Nobles’ resort. And in just the same manner, flames spouted from the iron crab. The automated repair system was spraying plastic sealant into the gap in an attempt to fill it.
Just as D landed, he brought his sword down on the four legs he’d immobilized. One of them was severed, and the crab’s body tilted crazily to one side. Oil sprayed from the opening, staining the snow an inky black.
A claw attacked the Hunter. Ducking to avoid it, D then severed another of the crab’s limbs.
The weight of the crab that it’d been supporting then shifted. Some of its legs sank into the snow, and beneath them there was an ear-shattering cacophony of destruction. Covered by the white torrents of snow and ice raining back down, the crab took less than two seconds to drive itself into the ground despite the fact that it weighed several tons.
The hem of his coat spreading out behind him like wings, D landed at the base of the mountain of ice that’d formed on the ground.
“What the hell is that thing doing?!” Dwight called out from behind him in a hoarse voice.
His answer came in the form of the engine sounds that started below the shards of ice. The glittering chunks shook, then collapsed without warning. Only the very tip of the pile remained above the surface when it finally stopped.
The crab must’ve dug a hole and escaped—just like it’d done when it’d first appeared from the twenty-five-foot-thick ice.
“Got away, did he?”
Not replying to Dwight’s question, D sheathed his sword and turned to the fisherman. There was no tinge of tension or fear in the Hunter’s handsome features, but Dwight shuddered as the wind-blasted expanse of snow and ice grew ever colder. Perhaps the only thing that was beyond life and death was beauty.
“I’ll take care of him some other time,” D said softly. “Until then, just sit back and keep watching. I think it’ll probably be safe for the next few days, but you should still refrain from fishing.”
“Okay,” said Dwight. “None of this is anything like the sort of stuff that usually happens around here. Everyone’s better off not knowing about it. At least while it’s still summer.”
Snowflakes stuck to the fisherman’s face, then melted
. As Dwight wiped them away with one hand, D faced the land. Back there, it was summer.
“It’ll be over soon, won’t it?” Dwight said in a distant tone. His eyes then dropped to D’s left arm, and he remarked, “I just noticed something—what happened to your left hand?”
A GEM STAINED SCARLET
CHAPTER 5
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I
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The second the hand closed around the base of his neck, Twin knew whose it had to be. Before the attacker’s other hand could bring a weapon down on him, the young enforcer moved his right hand and jabbed at the foe behind him with his knife. It sliced thin air. And before Twin even had time to be surprised at not making contact with anything where his foe’s body would naturally be, his throat was crushed and gouts of blood spilled from his nose and mouth.
He fell across Su-In’s body as if shielding her, and didn’t move another muscle.
“Didn’t have enough time to turn yourself into a corpse,” a voice muttered in the living room, although there was no one left to hear it, as one of the two people there was unconscious and the other had been reduced to a cadaver. “I got kind of caught up in the festive atmosphere and took my time coming back here, and what do I find? He isn’t even here, but two people who shouldn’t be are. For a little village like this, things sure develop quickly.”
†
Feeling an oppressive weight on her back, Su-In opened her eyes. A bald head and wrinkled face had circled around in front of her with visible concern.
“Ban’gyoh . . . ,” she finally managed to say. Her memory returned in a flash, and sitting up, she looked all around.
Seeing that she’d noticed Twin’s corpse lying there, Ban’gyoh remarked, “He’s been strangled. And I take it you didn’t do it, did you? Which would mean . . .”
Mysterious Journey to the North Sea, Part 2 Page 12
