by C. A. Storm
Turning toward the mirror, I gaped. Masa was right. There, on my chest, like a tattoo but somehow translucent, like viewing it through a thin layer of water, was a symbol. It resembled a kamon, a Japanese crest. It comprised a thick outer ring in dark indigo, surrounding a stylized, eight-petaled sakura in a pale silver-blue. At the end of each petal of the cherry blossom was a small, solid black circle.
And in the center of the sakura? A single kanji:
雪
Yuki. Snow.
Gaping stupidly at my own reflection, I tried to figure out where the fuck I had gotten the mark. Did that bakana abazure curse me? Or was it from that nightmare? Or…?
Hesitantly, I lifted a hand toward the mark but jerked it away at the last moment with a shake of my head.
“No,” I glared down at my chest, at the kamon now located just beneath the jugular notch and right between my breasts. “I’ll deal with you later. First, shower. Then, sleep.”
Yes, I was talking to a tattoo. A non-sentient tattoo, I should clarify, because yes, there were sentient ones. At least, I hoped this was a non-sentient tattoo.
Fuck.
‘Yuki, I was resting against that for the last few hours,’ Masa hesitantly projected. ‘I would have sensed if it was malignant. I’m not sensing any black magic in it, if that’s any consolation?’
Looking up, meeting those white eyes, I shrugged fatalistically, “We’ll see, won’t we?”
Putting it as much out of my mind as I could, I climbed into the shower and let the scalding hot water sooth away my worries, at least for a little while.
Chapter 9
Kurokō | Lion’s Pride Hotel, Denver, CO | December 6, 2017
There were few people who were as equally attractive going as they were coming, but Yuki was one of those elite few.
The sight of her tight, pert ass framed in her sweatpants as she stalked away to the elevators was one I would be pulling out later to enjoy.
My attention returned to the young human behind the desk, and for the briefest moment, I debated making her my next plaything—she was certainly attractive enough, for an American, with dark blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a healthy set of breasts—but oddly, much like the flight attendant earlier, I didn’t feel even the slightest stirring of interest.
Odd.
Maybe it was part of the mental shift speaking and living in another language required. English was not my native tongue, after all, but when you immersed yourself in another culture, the best way to adapt was to even shift your thoughts, to think like the people around you.
I must’ve still been in the adjustment period, because the blonde beauty before me just seemed too bland, too pale and washed out, unlike the dark-haired, icy minx who continued to twitch my tails.
After signing the appropriate paperwork and ensuring my luggage would be brought to my suite, I finally made my own way to the elevator and up to my room.
I paid little attention to things such as décor or any of that. Once I had settled in, I would be doing a full, thorough sweep of the building afterward; besides, much like I suspected Yuki desired, I just wanted a hot shower to wash away the stench of traveling amongst so many fleshy humans in tight quarters.
Tossing my carry-on aside, I stripped out of my clothes, reluctantly leaving my boxers on for the moment as I waited for my bags to be delivered. I just wanted to be completely free of the confining clothes humans insisted on wearing. Silly creatures, humans. If you got it, flaunt it, wasn’t that what they said here in America?
Stretching, twisting, I got the kinks out of my muscles and spine, giving a throaty groan of relief at feeling the tightness slipping away.
My ear twitched and I allowed myself a small grin. I could hear Yuki moving around through the connecting suite, and I’d be willing to bet she hadn’t even noticed the door connecting the two large rooms. Half-tempted to peek in on her, I was distracted by the knock on my door.
Hm, I thought, surprised I hadn’t heard anyone approaching the door. Apparently, I had been too focused on trying to hear Yuki; she was rapidly proving to be too tempting a distraction, and one I could ill afford.
Striding to the door, I flung it open and met the open-mouthed young man who gaped at seeing me clad only in boxers. Of course, he couldn’t help but bask in the glory of me, because I was quite attractive, even in human flesh, but I just wanted my luggage.
Waving an arm, I said, “Thank you for bringing my luggage, porter. If you’d be so kind as to just leave it there, I’d be most grateful.”
The boy lugged in the cart, unloading my four bags under my watchful eyes. When he paused at the door before he left, I looked at him for a few moments, before realizing what he waited for.
“Ah yes, sorry, I forgot about that,” I acknowledged, turning to pick up my pants from the floor and fishing out my wallet.
Turning back toward him, I found him staring fixedly up at the ceiling, his pale cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Hm, curious. With a shrug, I pulled out a fresh hundred-dollar bill and handed it over. “Here you go, now if you’d be so kind, I’d like to get naked and take a shower. You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like, and scrub my back.”
It was a generous offer, if I do say so myself, but apparently the porter didn’t agree. He snatched the bill and disappeared, slamming the door behind him as he ran off.
Curious. Humans were so strange. Amusing, but strange.
Considering for a moment, I paused. He may have been a supernatural, but I couldn’t be bothered to care. Maybe it was an American thing. Americans were strange, too.
Shrugging, I dropped my pants back to the floor, and slid the black, silk boxers down, letting them join the discards as I turned to find the shower.
A quick scrubbing later, I stepped out of the steamy shower and grabbed a towel. Showers were so inefficient, a waste of perfectly good drinking water, but when you’re pretending to be human, you had to act like a human.
At least I didn’t smell like humans any longer, so that was a benefit to soap I was willing to concede. Still, tongue baths were much more effective, at least when done properly.
Eyeing myself in the steam-covered mirror, I squinted, trying to make out my features. With a shrug, I turned away and finished drying off before dropping the towel and heading into the bedroom.
A king-sized bed. It was nice and big, and if it had another body to curl up with, would be just right for some playing around. Unfortunately, business must come first.
Heading to my luggage, I opened the large travel chest, pleased to see that my seals had not been breached. My luggage had been carefully sealed and warded to prevent humans from investigating too closely, and while I had faith in my contracted onmyōji’s skills, it was always good to have verification that money hadn’t been wasted.
Sliding out a carefully packed box of polished ebony, inlaid with obsidian in geometric designs, I whispered the proper incantation before I opened it. Again, another layer of security never hurt, at least not me, and that’s what really mattered.
Nestled in a bed of black velvet was a polished obsidian sphere, which I carefully pulled out while I set the box aside.
Sitting on the couch, I cradled the sphere in my hands and slowly blew my breath over it. Once, twice, three times, then infused it with my innate magic.
Jade flames wreathed my arms, slithering down over my wrists, crawling down my fingers, feeding power into the orb. Once it began to glow from within, I waited.
The green flame that illuminated the orb from within began to pulse rhythmically in time with my quickening heartbeat. When the knowing came, the surety that the person who possessed the other orb had picked it up, I spoke.
“We’re here. I believe Shiro Yuki may prove to be an obstacle to our goals, but I will keep an eye on her. If she can do what we hope, we’ll have the Kuroikagami on the Solstice, then she will no longer matter.”
The message returned, short and to the point, delivered more in a hissing whisper
of thought.
“Secure the mirror, get rid of any obstacles.”
“Hai,” I said simply. “It will be done.”
❆❅❆
Vilhelm | Cœur de Lyon Estates, Shadow Lake, CO | December 6, 2017
The ride from the airport to the Estates had been excruciating and reminded me why I did not like being social, or polite. If I didn’t owe my cousin, he would fucking owe me for this one. I decided then and there, I would keep a tally, just to see who would owe who what by the end of this nightmare.
It wasn’t Arnie’s fault, not entirely. He was a good kid, eager and friendly, filled with all the vitality and energy that comes with being a young shifter, but he could, and would, talk for hours about anything that crossed his mind. I could verify this.
I will give him credit though, he weathered the glares from a sullen dragon quite well.
Thankfully, we were of a size to one another, so the truck was plenty big enough for the both of us, but after spending the last twelve hours in tight quarters, I was ready to get out and stretch my legs, and maybe my wings; even if I’d have to be more careful about being seen here.
In Iceland, it was easy to just take wing and fly over the ocean, over Greenland or the Norwegian Sea, and there was nothing that could compare to being on wing, supported by a Southerly wind and dancing amongst the Northern Lights. Nothing, except maybe the first scent of her.
Frustrated, I fisted my hand on my thigh to keep myself from tearing the door off the truck, leaping out, and going on the hunt; instead, I forced myself to listen to Arnie, and let his chatter keep me distracted. I embraced the frustration, letting it fuel my determination, and consoling myself that I would find her soon, then never let her go.
Feeling the throbbing, ache of my cock straining to be released from the confines of my jeans, I shifted against the worn and cracked vinyl seat, drawing Arnie’s attention.
Giving me a sheepish grin, Arnie said, “Sorry, Mister Vindorm, I got the call I needed to pick you up pretty late and I was out in the fields, so didn’t have time to go home and get another truck.”
Running a frustrated hand down over the long beard I’d spent the last twenty-five years letting grow wild, I shook my head and sighed, “It is fine, Arnie, and please, do not call me Mister Vindorm. Just call me Vilhelm, I’m trying to get used to the name…”
And to talking again, I reluctantly admitted to myself. Before receiving the call from Audrick, which had been a mental communication in the way of dragons, I think the last time I had spoken aloud had been maybe five? Six years ago?
At least in human form, but I did try and spend as much time disguised as a human as I could, to get used to this new era of Human Ascendency. Hence the beard that reached my waist and hair down below my ass.
I knew that I looked like an insane barbarian, with my wild hair and beard, a disdain for coats or long-sleeved anything. Getting through the airport had been almost amusing, given the weather had been bitter cold, and I was traveling in blue jeans and an old, worn muscle shirt. With the silver-blond of my hair and beard and my larger than most human frame, I had garnered more than a few stares.
But at least they hadn’t run shrieking in terror or pissed themselves before passing out—or gone straight for the heavy artillery—so I counted it as a point in my favor.
Although, since I was supposed to be attending a Yuletide Masquerade as a representative for the North American Supernatural Council—and yes, I was aware that I wasn’t from North America, but Audrick wanted me for some reason, and what he wanted, he got—I supposed I should make some time to make myself presentable.
Eventually.
Maybe.
I paused as a thought crossed my mind. What would she think if she saw me looking like a marauding berserker? Automatically, my eyes shifted toward Arnie, who was talking about something…well, I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention, so I couldn’t honestly tell you what he was blathering on about.
He was attractive, with his hair cut short and manageable on the sides, left a little long on top with his bangs brushed off to the side. He was also clean-shaven, which emphasized his strong, square jaw and drew attention to his dark blue eyes. His skin was tan, kissed gold by the sun, and he positively radiated health and masculine beauty.
Glancing down at myself, I squinted.
Are those crumbs?
Maybe I should see about cleaning myself up sooner rather than later. Particularly if I didn’t wish to frighten her away with my mortal appearance. My true form would be terrifying enough, so best not give the poor girl a complete heart attack.
When we finally pulled in to the Estates, I had to admit, I was rather impressed. My eyes easily pierced the early morning gloom, and if I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought I was somewhere in the European Alps, instead of Middle America. Maybe this wouldn’t be too horrible.
When Arnie pulled up to the front entrance, I unfolded myself from his truck and grabbed up my bags. Turning toward the boy, I reluctantly offered him a small nod and even managed to find a ghost of a smile. “Thank you, Arnie, for picking me up. I am in your debt.” I paused and narrowed my eyes, holding up a hand to indicate the size of the debt, my thumb and forefinger a scant breath apart, “A small debt.”
Grinning wide, Arnie shook his head, “No worries, Mister…I mean, Vilhelm! Always glad to help.” Jerking his head, he huffed, “But I gotta head out, gotta get back to the ranch and help with the morning chores or the boss’s gonna have my hide for a rug.”
Watching as his truck pulled away, I shook my head and absently scratched my chest before I turned and went inside to check in. I needed to get settled in, contact Audrick to let him know I was here, find out what he expected me to do for the next two weeks, then figure out how I was going to find her and what to do with her once I got my eager claws wrapped around her, and my dick buried as deep within her as it would go.
Humming at that happy thought, I entered the Château.
It was good to be awake again.
Chapter 10
Yuki | Lion’s Pride Hotel, Denver, CO | December 6, 2017
It truly is amazing what a full eight-hours of uninterrupted sleep can do for a girl. No nightmares, not waking up to a hangover, being nice and toasty warm snuggled up in a huge bed, not having to go to the day job, it was glorious!
Reluctantly, I freed myself from the cocoon of sheets and blankets I had wrapped myself in. What could I say? Like all the yuki-onna of my clan, we craved the heat. We liked our rooms cold, sub-zero temperatures outside, and for our bodies to be toasty-warm. Although, now that I think about it, I know quite a few women like that. Maybe it’s a female thing?
Masa, in her fully manifested form, was curled up on the corner of the bed, snoring away, her tail twitching idly. I left her sleeping as I went into the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead.
First things first, some fresh coffee and breakfast! I’ll admit, I was looking forward to having a huge, American breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, lots of butter and syrup, and if I was really, really lucky, they’d have chocolate chip pancakes!
Shrugging out of my flannel pajama bottoms in the USF CA colors of green and gold, and my black-and-pink Alpha Alpha Alpha sorority shirt, I steeled myself and looked in the mirror.
It was still there, shimmering beneath my skin and glowing with a soft, pulsing radiance.
I still didn’t want to touch it. If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it, but it frightened me, but not in the way you think. Not a terror like inspired by my nightmare, nor the dread of the doomed-to-fail challenge of stealing a mirror from beneath the nose of a bunch of Sidhe in their own territory. No, it’s that weird, existential dread of knowing your life was about to take a sudden turn down a path you had never imagined.
The path was no doubt dark and untrod, treacherous and dangerous, guarded by briars and brambles that would leave deep, abiding scars, but if you could walk the path, survive the travails, then just perchance,
you’d emerge into a place never before seen by any living creature, stronger from the journey than you were before you started.
Or, I was just plain cursed by the Wicked Queen and I didn’t want to confront reality.
Either worked.
Shrugging fatalistically at this point, I ruefully brushed out my hair, pulled it back into its typical low ponytail, did the normal “human” things you absolutely don’t need to hear about, and got ready to face the day.
I grabbed Masa's medallion and slipped it on before double-checking to make sure my wards were secure. Slipping out the door, I hung the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the handle, and headed out.
Time to spend some serious money! Well, time to spend some of the Kuro Clan’s money. After all, they were the ones funding this little deathtrap, so I might as well get something out of it, and this yuki-onna needed a new wardrobe.
❆❅❆
Kurokō | Lion’s Pride Hotel, Denver, CO | December 6, 2017
I waited for her to leave, waited until I heard the elevator door close behind her, waited until I looked out the window overlooking the front entrance, and watched her get into a taxi cab, before I made my move.
Listening at the door that connected our rooms may have seemed creepy to some, but it was just business as usual. Curiosity was my only flaw.
Between the blink of one eye and the next, I was a true cat; similar to the form I had worn when I had met Yuki, but with only a single tail. My second tail had a mind of its own sometimes, and tended to get me into more trouble than I should admit to.
Feeling my magic coursing through me, I slid into the shadow beneath the door, into the darkness that welcomed me as one of its own, and entered her room.
Well, I tried to. Suddenly, before I had even realized what was happening, I was ripped from the safety of the shadows and hurled violently backwards. Twisting instinctively, I landed against the far wall of the room on my feet, then bounced back to the ground.
