InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Regrouping ( Chapter 14 )

~~Chapter 14~~

~Regrouping~

 

Cain dropped the telephone receiver into the cradle and scowled at the email he'd just received.

 

`Nothing.'

 

He'd set his best minds on the case, and not one of them were able to uncover a thing about the bounty placed on the cat-youkai. Having just taken the call from the last of his informants who had come up empty handed, Cain's suspicions had been confirmed. The hunt was being handled by one of two factions, both of which were infamous for their ability to see the job done.

 

“Damn it,” he muttered as he reread the email.

 

:

 

`Z,

 

`Information scarce. No one is talking. Tighter security than expected. Advise to continue or abort.'

 

:

 

Cain sighed, scrolling the trackball and hitting `reply'. Grimacing as he stared at the monitor, his fingers hovered over the keys as he considered his options. On the one hand, the search for information didn't seem to be working, but that didn't mean that the person he'd sent would fail. On the other hand, delving too deeply might cause more harm than good, in the long run. He'd dealt with both the organizations before, and he knew from prior experience that, while they might not match the might of the tai-youkai's office, there'd been damage enough done during those encounters to make him reconsider trying to infiltrate them too deeply. `Bas might be in danger,' he reasoned, `but he's been well-trained, and he's smart . . .'

 

`Abort,' he keyed in and hit `send'. He was putting a lot of trust in Bas, but he also couldn't justify the potential loss, should the spies he'd sent be captured.

 

“How about a break?”

 

Cain snapped the laptop computer closed and glanced up at his wife. “In a bit,” he said, giving her a little grin that he hoped she couldn't see right through.

 

“Still nothing?”

 

“I'm not having much luck getting information on this bounty,” Cain grumbled, rubbing his forehead with a tired hand, knowing that it was futile to hide much of anything from Gin's discerning gaze. She knew him a little too well, he figured. Sometimes it was a really bad thing.

 

Gin frowned and pushed away from the doorframe, uttering a soft, commiserating moan as she ambled around the imposing desk. “Sebastian is okay, right?”

 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “For now.”

 

Rubbing his shoulders, she nodded. “They don't trust you to see justice done?”

 

Dropping the pen in his hand onto the stacks of files cluttering the desk, he leaned back to look into his mate's face. Brilliant golden eyes shining gently, she smiled her encouragement as she ducked her head to kiss him.

 

“Cal Richardson has been nothing but a pain in my ass for years,” Cain remarked. “If this girl—Sydnie—had reason . . .”

 

Gin let Cain pull her into his lap. “You've always been more than fair,” she assured him.

 

“I don't know . . .”

 

Brushing the wayward bronze bangs out of Cain's face, she leveled a no-nonsense look at him. “You're questioning your own judgment?”

 

“I'm questioning everything lately,” he admitted. “It's just a gut instinct, but . . .” Trailing off, he propped his elbow on the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What if I'm wrong?”

 

“About Sydnie?”

 

“She's out there with my son—”

 

“Our son.”

 

“Our son,” he amended. “Damn it . . .”

 

“You've always told him to trust his instincts, Cain. You should take your own advice.”

 

Wrapping his arms more securely around Gin's waist, he pulled her closer and nuzzled her neck. “You're right,” he allowed with a sigh. “Absolutely right.”

 

“And don't you forget it, Zelig-sensei.” She smiled sweetly then bit her lip as a hint of sadness crept into her eyes.

 

“What's on your mind?” he prodded gently.

 

Gin managed a half-hearted smile. “I was just thinking,” she murmured.

 

“`Bout what?”

 

She shrugged. “Sebastian.”

 

“What about him?”

 

Her lips trembled, but her smile brightened. “Just remembering how it was when we first brought him home.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You hogged him, Cain Zelig,” Gin pointed out.

 

“You were recovering,” he grumbled.

 

“For awhile there, I didn't think you were going to let me hold him at all.”

 

“That's why we had Evan, wasn't it?” Cain countered with a bashful grin.

 

Gin rolled her eyes. “Ten years later!”

 

Cain chuckled. “They're my boys.”

 

She giggled and tugged his ponytail. “And you never put Jillian down.”

 

“She's my girl.”

 

Gin groaned but giggled and kissed Cain's cheek. “Cain?”

 

“Yes?”

 

Her laughter died away, and she sighed. “Sebastian will be fine.”

 

He swallowed hard, thankful for the absolute determination in Gin's tone as he kissed her forehead and hugged her tight. “Of course he will.”

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Bas groaned and rubbed his shoulder as he pulled out of the parking lot at the rental car agency. He'd taken to changing cars every day or two, just to be safe, figuring that it would be a little harder to track them if they switched their mode of transportation more often. Sydnie fiddled with a small silver locket she'd dug out of her purse and shot him a probing glance. “Are you all right?” she asked quietly.

 

“Fine,” he replied, tilting his head from side to side to alleviate some of the built-up stiffness from nights spent sleeping in chairs.

 

“Good.”

 

“We'll cross the border and stop in Oklahoma tonight. You want another spoon?”

 

“Oh, um . . .” she hedged. He tried not to smile at the anxious glance she cast him. “I don't need one.”

 

“No one needs those,” he reminded her. “But you like them.”

 

She didn't respond to that, and Bas figured it was her way of agreeing. `Stubborn cat,' he mused with a soft little chuckle. “I'll get you one.”

 

“We just switched cars yesterday,” she pointed out.

 

He shrugged. “I know. You said this one wasn't as comfortable as the other one.”

 

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “You're not blaming this on me,” she grumbled, cheeks pinking prettily as she scrunched up her shoulders.

 

“I'm not blaming you. You just said—”

 

“I know what I said, Bas the Hunter.”

 

He sighed. “Are you more comfortable?”

 

Turning the locket over in her nimble fingers, she nodded. “As comfortable as one can be in a moving deathtrap,” she allowed.

 

“That's pretty,” he commented, nodding at the jewelry in her hand.

 

Sydnie glanced at him, her eyes startled, suspicious. “You think?”

 

“Sure. Had it long?”

 

“Long enough.”

 

“Gift?”

 

“I guess so.”

 

He shrugged. “From who?”

 

She stuffed it back into her purse and shrugged. “Someone I used to know.”

 

He scowled at her cryptic answer, but let the subject drop, concentrating instead on the expanse of road that stretched out behind them in the rearview mirror. They weren't far from the Oklahoma border. Since they had some time to spare, he'd figured that crossing the state line wouldn't be such a bad idea.

 

“I'm bored.”

 

Bas glanced at Sydnie and chuckled softly. “We can stop early if you want.”

 

“But I'm bored now.” Flexing her claws, she heaved a melodramatic sigh. Bas grimaced as she raked those claws idly over the door handle.

 

“All right, all right,” he relented. “Uh . . . a game.”

 

“A game?”

 

“Mhmm.”

 

“We can't play a game in the car,” she scoffed. “Anyway, aren't you a little old for games?”

 

“Well, you're the one who calls me a pup.”

 

She shrugged. “You say you're not.”

 

“I'm not.”

 

She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “What sort of game?” she asked cautiously.

 

“I don't know . . . truth or dare?” he suggested, recalling the silly little game that his sister, Jillian used to badger his family with, whenever they went for an extended trip. He used to pretend he was asleep to avoid having to participate in the stupid game. `Maybe,' he thought as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, `maybe it'll work to get some answers out of Sydnie . . .'

 

“You want to play truth or dare?”

 

He sighed since he really didn't want to do any such thing.

 

Cain's words echoed in his head. “We need answers, Bas, and Sydnie is the only one who can supply them . . .”

 

“Sure,” he said in a careless tone. “Why not?”

 

“Okay, puppy,” she agreed despite the reticence in her tone. “I'll go first.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Truth or dare?”

 

Bas turned the radio off and settled back in his seat. “Truth.”

 

“Does she kiss good?”

 

“Who?”

 

Sydnie snorted. “Your bitch.”

 

He winced. “My . . .? Sydnie . . .”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I don't think that's really any of your business,” he grumbled, fighting the wash of crimson color that rose to stain his cheeks.

 

“It's truth or dare, puppy. You shouldn't have suggested it if you didn't want to play.”

 

“No personal questions.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “If I can't ask personal questions, then what's the point of playing? Everything's likely to be personal to you, Bas the Hunter. Just forget it, okay?”

 

Stifling a growl that welled in his throat, he scowled at the road. “Fine . . . she's fine.”

 

“Just fine?”

 

Deliberately trying to ignore the tiny voice that insisted that he tell her the truth, that he didn't really have a girlfriend at all, Bas snatched up his bottle of soda and took a swallow. “Yeah, just fine. Truth or dare, cat?”

 

Sydnie stretched out her arm straight, turning up the back of her hand and carefully examining her claws. “Truth.”

 

“Do you purr?”

 

Sydnie shot him a quick glance. “Of course not.”

 

“But you're a kitty, and kitties purr.”

 

“Not this one, pretty boy.” She turned to face him and shook her head. “At least, I don't think I do.”

 

“Ah, so you might.”

 

“Anything's possible. Anyway, truth or dare.”

 

“Truth.”

 

She fiddled with the On-Star control panel but didn't push any buttons. “You're kind of boring, aren't you? What's the matter, puppy? Don't believe in taking risks?”

 

“What makes you think that answering questions isn't worse than taking a stupid dare?” he challenged.

 

“Do you have something to hide?”

 

“Doesn't everyone?”

 

“Fine, then,” she said with a sigh. “Have you had lots of girlfriends?”

 

He grimaced. “No.”

 

“Hmm . . .”

 

“What?”

 

She grinned. “That just surprises me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“A pretty boy like you? I think you're lying.”

 

“Think what you want,” he muttered. “I'm telling the truth . . . Truth or dare?”

 

“Truth.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“Nope, I've never had a girlfriend,” she deadpanned.

 

“You know what I meant,” he argued.

 

She raised her eyebrows and tried not to smile. “You should have said what you meant.”

 

“Have you had many boyfriends?” he amended.

 

Sydnie sat back, resting her temple against the plush bucket seat and curling her legs up under her. “Boyfriends? No . . . Kitty toys? Absolutely.”

 

“Toys?” he growled, tamping down the irrational surge of anger that rose to choke him.

 

“Sure . . . pity you made me leave them all back in LA, don't you think?”

 

He gritted his teeth. “And yet you didn't want to say goodbye to anyone.”

 

“As if you'd have let me.”

 

“You'll never know since you never asked.”

 

“Truth or dare, puppy.”

 

He shot her a long-suffering look. “Truth.”

 

“I see . . . All right, then. Tell me . . . have you ever had sex before, Bas the Hunter?”

 

Bas snorted. “Yeah, I'm not answering that one.”

 

She opened her mouth to argue. Bas shook his head. “I'm not kidding.”

 

“Then you have to take a dare.”

 

“. . . Let's hear it.”

 

“Okay . . . I dare you to . . . show me what you can do with your big, bad . . .” She planted her hands on the center console and leaned in close. He swallowed hard, tried to ignore the scorch of blood that surged through his veins. “. . . Sword.”

 

“My . . . sword.”

 

“Yes.”

 

He cleared his throat and stole a glance at her. She was entirely too bright-eyed, entirely too attentive . . . entirely too close. Leaning toward him, she licked his cheek and giggled when his face shot up in flames. “Damn it, Sydnie! That's completely unsanitary—” he grumbled as he rubbed his cheek against his shoulder.

 

She sat back with a soft giggle, hands still resting on the console. “So are you going to show me?” she challenged, ignoring his tirade over her wayward tongue.

 

“Considering there's no good place to do that? No, I can't.”

 

She wrinkled her nose. “Fine, fine . . .”

 

“I will another time if we find some place that isn't so open,” he promised.

 

“Really?”

 

He shrugged. “Sure.”

 

She clapped her hands happily.

 

He sighed. “Truth or dare, kitty?”

 

“Truth.”

 

He cast her a sidelong glance and snorted. “Now who's boring?”

 

She pretended not to have heard him.

 

“You really don't remember what happened to your parents?”

 

“You're wasting your questions on things I've already told you,” she pointed out stiffly.

 

“So you were being honest.”

 

She shrugged, combing her hair with her fingers. “I'm always honest.”

 

His snort proclaimed that he didn't believe her. “Honest, but you speak in riddles.”

 

“I've never lied to you.”

 

“Your turn, cat,” he growled, leaning his elbow on the door and resting his temple in his fingertips.

 

“Where are your crests?”

 

“Nowhere special.”

 

“You're really cute when you blush,” she countered.

 

“And you're really fucking nosy.”

 

She laughed.

 

“Truth or dare, Sydnie?”

 

“Truth,” she told him.

 

“You were three when you were left alone, you've said, and you don't remember your parents, either, right? So who took care of you after your parents died and until you were three?”

 

“Who said anyone did?”

 

“Come off it. I have a little sister, and I remember when she was three. She was just a toddler. She certainly couldn't have taken care of herself.”

 

“Well, I did,” she retorted.

 

“A brother or a sister?” he pressed, careful to keep his tone gentle, neutral.

 

A strange sense of sadness filtered into her gaze. Bas caught it before she could hide it from him. “It doesn't matter, does it? I was left alone, and that was that.”

 

“Sydnie . . .”

 

“I don't want to play anymore. This is a really stupid game.” He could feel her turning away from him; not only her body but her mind, as well. She was drawing into herself the way she always did when he asked questions she didn't want to answer.

 

Bas sighed and stared out the window. He'd been close to getting some answers out of her. `Damn it . . .' If he could just get her to talk, he'd be two steps ahead of the game, but . . . how? She guarded her secrets closer than he did. Her secrets, he knew, were far worse than his. Still . . . Maybe . . .

 

`So tell her something that you don't tell anyone else. Tell her something to let her know that you trust her with your secrets.'

 

`The day I trust her—'

 

`Don't be stupid. Who's she going to tell, anyway?'

 

He sighed, stealing a peek at her and grimacing when he saw the forlorn expression in the depths of her eyes. “No,” he blurted, unable to staunch the flow of blood that stained his cheeks crimson.

 

“No?” she echoed, clearly confused as to why he was saying `no'.

 

He grimaced. “No,” he repeated, his voice almost dropping to a whisper. “I've never . . . I haven't . . .” He sighed. “No girls . . . not ever.”

 

She tried not to laugh; he had to give her that much credit. Covering her mouth with her hand as she cleared her throat a few times, she sat up and stared at him. “So you are a puppy!”

 

“I am not!” he growled. “I just . . . I hadn't found the right one, and—and . . .”

 

“You're not one of those romantics who believe in happily ever after and all that crap, are you?”

 

“My idiot brother whores around enough for the both of us,” he grouched.

 

“Oh?”

 

He snorted. “There's nothing wrong with being picky. It's a big deal to me, okay?”

 

She nodded. “And your girlfriend? Is she the `right' one?”

 

Bas dragged a hand over his face and avoided her gaze. “No, Sydnie, she's not the right one, either.”

 

“You're a strange puppy, Bas the Hunter.”

 

He pulled into the parking lot of the small gas station and shut off the car. “About that . . . I don't—”

 

The sound of Sydnie's door opening cut him off, and he sighed. “I'll be right back. I'm dying for a smoke.”

 

He let his forehead fall against the steering wheel for a moment as he uttered a soft groan. `Damn it, damn it, damn it,' he berated himself. `Tell Sydnie something personal, huh?'

 

`It's not my fault you decided to stop here before you could try to wheedle information out of her.'

 

`That's the last time I take your advice,' he growled. `Just shut up, will you?'

 

`You know, Bas, it's not that bad.'

 

`That's debatable. Arming her with knowledge like that? I'm going to be sorry; I know I am.'

 

His youkai laughed, and Bas groaned again as he stumbled out of the car. `You're already sorry. Know what I think?'

 

`No, and I don't think I want to.'

 

`I think you should just march in there and tell her you want her to be your bitch.'

 

Bas stopped short, his hand poised on the handle of the gas station door, and sucked in his breath in a sharp gust. `Shut up, you. Just shut up.'

 

Damned if his youkai didn't laugh even harder.

 

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

`Damn him . . .'

 

Staring out the window at the insignificant humans flooding the streets like vermin, Jeb Christopher crumpled the bit of paper in his fist, digging his claws into his palm. The coppery scent of blood filled his nostril, and he blinked in absent bemusement at the scarlet ribbons that snaked down the heel of his hand, winding around his wrist, disappearing under the cuff of the black linen shirt he wore.

 

“Jeb?”

 

He didn't turn to acknowledge the intruder. That she'd left him alone this long had been a minor miracle. Lifting his gaze back to the city, laid out in a grid of asphalt and steel; of brick and mortar, it stretched to the horizon, as far as the eye could see. “I want to know his name.”

 

“Already on it,” Myra informed him, the careful comfort of her voice a welcome solace that he shoved aside. “I sent Tom and Lessa.”

 

“Good . . .” Lips curling in a cynical sneer, Jeb squeezed the paper a little tighter in his fist. “Send Glave, too.”

 

Myra paused before replying. “All three?”

 

Jeb's face broke into a menacing grin, completely devoid of any traces of real humor. “Damn right.”

 

“Understood.”

 

He heard the click of her footsteps as she strode toward the door.

 

“Myra.”

 

“Yes?”

 

Jeb tossed the message away. “Bring me the hunter. I want him alive.”

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Sydnie tapped a delicate claw against her lips as she stared thoughtfully at the overstuffed recliner. Jammed into the corner on the other side of the nightstand, it looked sorely out of place, and while it might be a nice thing to relax on, it certainly wasn't a bed, not by any stretch of the imagination.

 

`Since when do you feel bad about the puppy's sleeping arrangements? It's not like he's complaining about it.'

 

She frowned. `Of course he's not complaining about it. That doesn't mean it it's comfortable for him, either. Bas is well over six feet tall, I'd say. Sleeping in that chair? That's just not a good thing . . .'

 

`You like him a lot, Syd.'

 

`I tolerate him, you mean.'

 

`Just tolerate him?'

 

`Yes.'

 

`If you just tolerate him, then suppose you explain why you're standing here trying to figure out how to get him off that chair and into your bed.'

 

`You make it sound a lot worse than it is,' she pointed out.

 

`It's bad enough.'

 

`You're insane.'

 

`Insane? I don't think so. At least I don't live in denial.'

 

Sydnie wrinkled her nose and shifted her gaze to her claws. `I could just slice up the chair a little,' she mused.

 

`You can't do that. That'd be a little too obvious, even for you, and then Bas would have to pay for the chair.'

 

`All right, if you're so clever do you have any suggestions?'

 

Her youkai sighed. `Do I have to do everything, Syd? Just do something so that he can't sleep on it, but you don't have to destroy anything. Put it out of contention, so to speak.'

 

`Hmm, like a temporary obstruction?'

 

`Yes, yes, something like that.'

 

She pondered that with a little frown.

 

`You'd better hurry. He went to the grocery store, and he's been gone awhile.'

 

Turning her head to gaze around the room, her eyes lit on the empty ice bucket and stuck.

 

`He can't sleep on a wet chair, can he?' her youkai prodded.

 

Sydnie didn't answer as she glanced back and forth from the chair to the bucket and back again. It only took two steps to reach the table where the bucket sat. Before she could talk herself out of it, she hurried into the bathroom, filled up the bucket, and, biting her bottom lip, slowly poured the water over every inch of the seat cushion.

 

She stepped back and surveyed her handiwork with a thoughtful frown as she debated whether or not she ought to refill the bucket again. Eyes flaring wide as her head snapped to the side, Sydnie gave a little yelp as she scurried to replace the bucket and launch herself onto the bed. Scrambling for the remote control, she was shuffling through the channels when Bas stepped into the room and kicked the door closed behind him.

 

“Milk, cottage cheese, yogurt, bagels and cream cheese . . . Hope you're hungry, kitty.”

 

Sydnie snorted and turned up the volume. “Not really, puppy, but I'll humor you.”

 

He set the bag on the table and pulled his duster off, tossing it over a metal chair before unstrapping his sword and leaning it against the wall. She leaned her head back and rose on her knees, trying to see over his shoulder as he unpacked the two plastic bags. After neatly stacking the dairy products, he grabbed a clear plastic box and popped the lid before stuffing it into the small microwave on the bureau beside the television.

 

“What was that?” she asked grudgingly.

 

Bas chuckled. “Fried chicken. Want some?”

 

“I'm not—”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you're not hungry. I know.”

 

She shrugged and smiled as he poured a glass of milk for her and closed the distance to hand it to her before sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots. “You were gone awhile,” she remarked as she leaned to the side to see the television.

 

“You can't complain,” he joked. “I brought you food, didn't I?”

 

She shrugged. “I suppose.”

 

The microwave beeped, and he strode over to fix two Styrofoam plates. The smell of the reheated chicken made Sydnie's tummy growl. Bas chuckled again as he handed her a plate and a clear plastic fork. “Not hungry, huh?”

 

“Mind your own business, pretty boy,” she shot back, cheeks pinking as she set the fork aside and picked up the chicken with her fingers.

 

He rolled his eyes but grinned. Plate in one hand and soda in the other, he shuffled over to the recliner and started to sit down. Sydnie choked on a bite of chicken when he sprang out of the chair, dropping both food and beverage with a loud curse. “What the hell . . .?”

 

“Something wrong, Bas the Hunter?” she asked rather blandly.

 

He scowled at the soaked chair and slowly turned, narrowing his eyes as he glowered at her. “Sydnie . . .”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Heaving a sigh and deciding that it wasn't worth the effort to argue with her, Bas stomped over and dug a dry pair of pants from his suitcase, mumbling under his breath about heathen cats who just couldn't be trusted. She managed to keep her expression blank until she heard the bathroom door slam. The little smile that surfaced, though, was tempered only by the slight twinge of guilt over the lowdown tactic she'd employed.

 

He stomped back out of the bathroom, tossing the wet jeans in the direction of his suitcase. Turning off the television then pulling out the bureau to unplug it for good measure, Bas turned slowly, hands on hips, scowling at Sydnie as though he were pondering her imminent demise. “Care to tell me why you soaked the chair, cat?” he growled.

 

Sydnie bit her lip and blinked innocently, setting her plate aside and folding her hands in her lap. “It was an accident,” she maintained. “You don't really think I'd do something as mean as pour water on it, do you?”

 

He heaved a sigh, raking his hands over his face. “Are you trying to kill me, Sydnie?” he demanded.

 

“Why would you think that?”

 

Letting his hands drop, he slowly shook his head before striding over to clean up the mess he'd made with the food. “Forget it. I'm tired,” he grumbled, tossing the plate and soda can into the trash. He strode off toward the bathroom again, this time returning with a dampened towel. He made quick work of cleaning up the spilled soda before stretching out on the floor and completely ignoring Sydnie in the process.

 

“What are you doing?” she demanded, peering over the edge of the bed.

 

Bas snorted but didn't open his eyes. “What does it look like, cat?”

 

“You can't sleep on the floor!” she blurted before she could stop herself.

 

That got his attention, and he popped one eye open to stare at her. “Well, someone soaked my chair—it must have been a ghost.”

 

Sydnie rolled her eyes and slipped off the bed, curling up on the floor beside him.

 

“Sydnie . . . what are you doing?”

 

“If you can sleep on the floor, I can, too,” she assured him.

 

He sighed. “It's fine. Get back on the bed, will you?”

 

“I will if you will,” she agreed.

 

“Cat . . .”

 

“Oh, please! We're both adults, Bas the Hunter, and that is a pretty big bed.”

 

His expression said plainly that he didn't really like her suggestion.

 

“Just make sure you stay on your side, puppy, or I'll scratch your eyes out.”

 

Bas growled low but slowly sat up, sweeping Sydnie up off the floor as he got to his feet. Momentarily speechless as he stared at her with an inscrutable look on his face, she wasn't prepared for him to drop her rather unceremoniously on the bed. He stalked around the bed and stretched out on the other side as close to the edge as he possibly could. Sydnie wrinkled her nose and got up to throw away her plate, too.

 

Curling up on her side of the bed, facing away from him, she yawned and closed her eyes. She was almost asleep when she felt the brush of a blanket being pulled up over her, but she couldn't do much more than smile wanly. She thought she heard him murmur something as she drifted off to sleep. Not able to comprehend his words, she sighed quietly and scooted a little closer.

 

“Night, Sydnie,” he'd said. “Sleep well.”

 

 

~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~ *~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~

A/N:

 

Merry Christmas, Everyone!!

 

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Reviewers

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MMorg

Naiobi ------ OROsan0677 ------ inuyashaloverr ------ GgBg ------ Rawben ------ Ranuel ------ ladygeri ------ Simonkal of Inuy ------ katgirlofthenight ------ elvinah ------ trujinx ------ Kyasumi

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Final Thought fromJeb:

Who the hell is this hunter?

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Phantasm): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

 

~Sue~