InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Eye of the Storm ( Chapter 15 )

~~Chapter 15~~

~Eye of the Storm~

 

“So what, exactly, do they do at one of these carnivals?” Sydnie asked again as Bas dragged her toward the middle of town. She pulled her hand away to rub her arms as if she were cold, but she smiled a little hesitantly when she peered up at him through the thick fringe of bangs that framed her face.

 

“I told you, kitty. There'll be games and crafts and food . . . All kinds of things.”

 

“You've said that already. What else?”

 

He shrugged. “They'll probably have rides and stupid stuff like that, too. You cold?”

 

She rolled her eyes like she thought that question was absolutely ridiculous. Bas grinned and grabbed her hand, leading her past the brightly painted metal barrels that blocked off the street for pedestrians. “I'm youkai, pretty boy. I never get cold, remember?”

 

“Oh, yes, and I don't breathe. Tell me if you get too cold. I'll take you back to the hotel.”

 

It really wasn't that cold, Bas mused as Sydnie craned her neck to look around. He'd wager it was around fifty degrees—a little above average for November in Ardmore, Oklahoma, or so he'd heard. The clerk at the hotel had commented on it when she was telling Bas about the Thanksgiving Festival. He figured that it was more of a ploy to get them to stay for another night. He had been about to turn in their key when he'd noticed the acute interest that Sydnie had tried in vain to hide. For reasons that he really didn't understand, he'd instead paid for one more night, ignoring the voice that cautioned him that it might well be a mistake. The bounty hunter he'd fought wouldn't be the last, and from what he'd gathered from speaking to his father, the chances were good that they'd run into the thugs again if they lingered too long in one place.

 

`She's never done silly stuff like this before, has she?' he thought as he waited for Sydnie to take a shower and get dressed.

 

`If she really has been alone since she was three, probably not,' his youkai agreed.

 

He sighed and brushed some caked-on dirt off his boot. `It's just a stupid festival.'

 

`Maybe. Then again, maybe it might mean something to her, and that's what you want, isn't it?'

 

`Why would it matter to me? She's just a crazy little cat who spends all her free time devising new ways to drive me nuts.'

 

`Like last night?'

 

He blushed at the reminder, scowling menacingly at the brush he'd been using to clean his boots. `She did that on purpose; I know she did.'

 

`Of course she did it on purpose. She soaked the entire chair, Bas. Ever wonder why she'd do such a thing?'

 

He snorted, dropping the shoe brush into the leather case that held his cleaning tools and the oil rag that he used on the blade of his sword. `Because she likes to make things more difficult.'

 

`Oh, for the love of . . . Bas, you know, sometimes I think you're a lot stupider than you let on.'

 

`Why else would she have done that?' he shot back, yanking his boots on and tugging his jeans over them.

 

His youkai sighed. `Because, you moron, she knows that you've been stiff and sore from sleeping in those God-forsaken chairs.'

 

`So she had to drench the damn thing?'

 

`And you'd have said yes if she'd just offered to share the bed?'

 

Bas didn't answer that, remembering all too vividly, just how warm and nice it had been, waking up with Sydnie curled against him. Sometime during the night, she'd moved closer to him, or maybe he'd gravitated toward her. Either way didn't matter, considering the end result was the same. She'd rolled over in the night since he distinctly recalled that she had been facing away from him. He was still on his back, but she'd been nestled there in the crook of his arm, her cheek leaning against his ribs and a wan half-smile touching her lips. She'd looked so fragile in the burgeoning light of morning that siphoned through the cracks between the thick brown curtains. Half expecting her to panic when she awoke to find herself, for all intents and purposes, nestled in his arms, he'd been amazed when she'd yawned and slowly opened her eyes only to smile at him with an expression on her face that had made him forget that he desperately needed to breathe . . .

 

“What's that smell?”

 

Bas blinked and quickly shook his head, drawing a deep breath as he glanced around at the milling crowd. “Which smell, Sydnie? There are a lot of things here . . .”

 

She waved a hand impatiently. “It smells like food . . . kind of.”

 

“Oh,” he remarked, nodding in understanding. “It's all the fried junk they are selling.”

 

“Fried?”

 

“Yup. Most of the carnivals I've ever been to have had tons of fried foods . . . I think it's easier to fry it out here than to cook real stuff.”

 

She wrinkled her nose and pointed at a craft booth. “What's all that?”

 

Bas rolled his eyes, grasping Sydnie's hand, and dragged her toward the booth. “It's all pretty useless, really. Just an excuse to hustle money and eat a lot of crap,” he told her.

 

Sydnie caught his wrist with her free hand. “Useless? Really?”

 

He grinned. “Yes, kitty, completely useless.”

 

She digested that in silence as he hurried her toward the crafting booths.

 

The first stand was nothing but woodwork: wooden cars with painted wheels, wooden trains with carved wooden tracks, wooden beads, painted and strung to make colorful necklaces, wooden paper towel holders and whatnot shelves . . . Sydnie frowned as she eyed a small cabinet. Bas peeked over her shoulder and smiled. “You want one of those for your spoons?” he asked, nodding at the beautiful oak spoon display box. It had fifty slots with little brass labels above each with the names of the states listed in alphabetical order. There were two more rows of empty slots for miscellaneous ones, too.

 

“No,” she insisted, wrinkling her nose at the thought of having to take the spoons out of their cheap little boxes.

 

“Okay,” he agreed, taking her hand and pulling her toward the next craft booth. Mostly little trinkets designed for children that Bas remembered from long ago trips to the dime store with his mother, he couldn't help but smile at the arrangement of `vintage' toys. She'd always bought him silly little things, like rubber jacks and those tubes of rainbow-colored plastic that she'd smear on the end of an obnoxiously pink straw so that he could make those bubble-like balls that always shrank down, leaving the plastic all puckered and distorted. The stuff stank horribly, but Bas had spent hours chasing his makeshift balls all over the studio while his mother and father worked on their various projects.

 

Smiling slightly as he pulled a pinwheel out of a little tin can, he held it up and blew on it, grin widening as Sydnie stared at the shiny spinning blades. “What's the matter, kitty? Never saw a pinwheel before?” he teased.

 

“I've seen them before,” she grumbled, cheeks pinking as her pride reasserted itself. She turned on her heel and stomped a few steps away. Bas handed the girl manning the booth a five dollar bill and strode after her without bothering to wait for his change.

 

“Here.”

 

She glanced at the pinwheel and wrinkled her nose. “Aren't you kind of old for that sort of thing?” she challenged.

 

He grabbed her hand and wrapped her fingers around the toy. “I bought it for you.”

 

She blinked at it. He blew on it, and she jerked her hand away, watching in mute fascination as the wheel spun.

 

“You're a strange little cat, you know that?”

 

Sydnie shifted her eyes to the side as a secretive little smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You think so?”

 

He chuckled. “Come on. Let's go win you a stupid, useless prize.”

 

“You can win those games?” she demanded, nodding at the array of gaming booths and clutching her pinwheel tight.

 

He shrugged. “Sure, unless they're rigged.”

 

“And you're going to win a prize?”

 

“Yes,” he told her, dragging her over to a football tossing game. “Excuse me. What are the rules?”

 

The man standing behind the counter shrugged. “Toss the ball through the holes, and get a prize according to your points. Ten tosses for five bucks; a hundred points for one of the big stuffed animals.”

 

Bas glanced back at the painted wooden game board. A series of five holes were cut in the board, and each one had a number value. The larger holes had smaller values, and there was only one worth ten points. He grinned as he glanced down at Sydnie and dug a five dollar bill out of his pocket. “All right, kitty. Watch the pro.”

 

She rolled her eyes but smiled as she stood back and waited. Bas pushed his elbows back and swung them forward a few times, loosening up his shoulders. “You're not just being cocky, are you?” she teased.

 

Bas snorted indignantly. “Stand back, Sydnie,” he went on with an arrogant little grin, “and you'd better pick out what you want.”

 

The eye rolling became more pronounced. Bas palmed the football a few times, testing his grip on the ball. Sydnie leaned toward him with a soft giggle. “Good luck, Bas the Hunter.”

 

“I don't need luck, kitty. I've got this all under control,” he assured her as he let the first ball fly. It sailed cleanly through the ten point hole, and his grin widened as the ball caught on the netting behind the board and wobbled down to a stop. The man tending the booth whistled and grabbed the ball to toss it back to Bas.

 

“I guess you don't,” Sydnie allowed.

 

Nine throws later, Bas stood back while Sydnie narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, staring at the array of hulking stuffed animals that hung from the top of the booth. “Any of them?” she asked without taking her eyes off the assortment.

 

“Any of them,” Bas agreed as he pointed at an overstuffed, over-exaggerated misrepresentation of a white Persian cat, complete with blue glass eyes. “What about that one?”

 

Sydnie wrinkled her nose. “I want that dog.”

 

Bas snorted but couldn't help the little grin that surfaced as the attendant grabbed the dog in question with a long pole with a hook on the end. Bas took it from the man, knowing that Sydnie probably wouldn't. “Thanks,” he mumbled, stuffing the goofy-looking dog into Sydnie's arms. “That's one ugly mutt.”

 

Sydnie scowled up at him. “He's not ugly!” she argued. “I think he looks like you.”

 

“You think he—?” Bas choked out as he stared at Sydnie's obvious approval of the God-forsaken mutt. `Okay,' he grumbled to himself. The dog was bronze in color like Bas' hair. Other than that, however, there were absolutely no similarities between the stupid stuffed animal and himself. “And that just isn't nearly as complimentary as it should have been,” he grouched.

 

“Well, I think he's cute,” she shot back, thoroughly appraising her acquisition.

 

“Pfft! The day that dog—” Bas cut himself off abruptly as another thought siphoned into his brain. Cheeks reddening as he struggled to keep a neutral tone, he had to clear his throat before he could speak. “You . . . you think I'm . . . cute?”

 

She shot him a look at told him just how dense she thought he was being. “Of course you're cute, pretty boy . . . just like an overgrown puppy!” Giggling as she gazed happily at the stuffed dog, Sydnie nodded. “Just like you,” she stated again. “I think I'll name him Bas Junior.”

 

“What?” he growled, still irritated over her backhanded compliment.

 

“Bas Junior . . . he's our baby.”

 

“Baby?” Bas echoed incredulously. “He's a stuffed dog!”

 

“Lower your voice or you'll make him cry,” Sydnie chastised.

 

Bas erupted in a low growl, clenching his teeth together so tightly that his jaw bulged.

 

“Can you win a sister for him?”

 

Stifling a sigh, Bas planted his hand on the small of her back and gave her a gentle shove. “Move it, Sydnie.”

 

She laughed and hugged the scruffy looking stuffed dog as he led her toward a food stand. “Don't forget to get something for Bas Junior.”

 

He didn't comment on that, either. “You enjoying yourself?” he asked instead.

 

“I am,” she said, her voice quiet, eyes bright as she gazed at him.

 

“Good,” he told her. “I'm glad.”

 

She glanced at him, opening her mouth to say something, but the words died away before she could get them out as the amusement in her eyes faded only to be replaced by a different emotion; one that Bas didn't fully understand. She stared at him as though she were trying to figure something out. A slow realization dawned on him, and he slowly reached out to brush her bangs out of her eyes, letting his fingertips trace along the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw. Catching her chin and tilting her face up, he stood, transfixed . . .

 

“Excuse me, sir . . . did you want something?”

 

Bas blinked and jerked away from her, startled gaze shifting to meet the grinning expression on the woman tending the food trailer. Forcing a weak smile, Bas swallowed hard, tamping down the irritation at the untimely interruption as he scanned the menu written in festive colors on the dry erase board hanging on the far wall of the trailer.

 

Beside him, he could hear Sydnie's soft sigh, and he grimaced inwardly. He had a feeling that he knew exactly what she was thinking, because he was thinking it, too . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Sydnie sat on the bench, watching the spinning pinwheel with a little grin as Bas sat, hunched forward, slowly eating soggy chili-fries. She wrinkled her nose and turned away when he held one out to her. He chuckled and popped it into his mouth as she blew on her pinwheel to make it spin faster. “I bought these for you,” he commented, wiping his hand on a thin paper napkin.

 

“I'm not hungry,” she assured him.

 

“Me, either—at least, not for these.” Scowling at the shallow cardboard box of fries, he leaned over to chuck it into the gaudy orange trash barrel beside the bench. “You ready to go?”

 

“Go where?”

 

He shrugged. “We can go back and finish looking around, if you want . . . or we could go get some real food.”

 

“I don't mind sitting here awhile,” she remarked as the pinwheel slowed.

 

Scooting back, he turned toward her, resting his elbows on his knees. “Okay.”

 

Slipping her gaze to the side, she tightened her hold on the stuffed dog, burying her chin in the animal's fur. `He's really something, isn't he?'

 

`Stop fawning all over Bas the Hunter and pay attention, Syd. You're acting like a lovesick fool. Can't you see it?'

 

`See what? And I am not!'

 

`Oh? Do you remember ogling him when he was palming that football?'

 

Sydnie fought down a furious blush, studiously trying to avoid looking at him while she toyed with the small tuft of golden fur sticking straight up from the top of the stuffed dog's head. `Well, he could nearly wrap his hand around the damn thing . . . that was fairly impressive, don't you think?'

 

Her youkai groaned. `Oh, for the love of—'

 

`Anyway, you know what they say about men with big hands . . .'

 

`Focus, Sydnie, focus! You're only staying with him to get to New York City, right?'

 

The wind shifted, blowing Bas' hair into her face. The wispy ends tickled her cheek, and she grinned. `Yes, yes . . . New York City. Absolutely.'

 

`You know, though . . . it wouldn't really be so bad, would it? Staying with Bas the Hunter for awhile?'

 

Sydnie's smile faded, and she scowled at the almost hesitant question. `It . . . wouldn't be so bad, no . . .'

 

`Then maybe . . .?'

 

She sighed. `Maybe,' she agreed reluctantly.

 

“We should get moving soon. Staying in one place too long could be bad.”

 

Sydnie started out of her musings and glanced at Bas. He was surveying the park as though he expected someone to jump out at them. She shifted her gaze, scanning the small grove of trees, too. She didn't sense anything out of the ordinary, but she didn't like how worried he seemed, either. “You mean tonight?”

 

He nodded. “Yes. I don't think the bounty hunters have figured out where we are yet, but . . .”

 

She didn't need him to finish his sentence to understand his implication. A distinct shiver ran up her spine, but staring at him out of the corner of her eye was enough to lend her a feeling of security that both unsettled her and somehow comforted her at the same time. “I hate cars,” she mumbled.

 

“I know,” he replied in an apologetic tone. “We could take a plane . . .”

 

She scowled at him. “The car's just fine, puppy.”

 

“I thought so.”

 

Sydnie's retort was cut short at the distinct sound of a crying child. Turning to look back at the path that meandered through the park, she uttered a low sound deep in her throat as a saw the little girl. She had her back to them, and she sat in the middle of the path with her tiny hands pressed over her eyes to staunch the flow of tears. Not more than four years old, the girl's little frame shook with the force of her tears, and Sydnie stood up, a thoughtful frown marring her brow as she cautiously approached the child.

 

“Is something wrong?” she asked, carefully keeping her voice low, calm.

 

The girl sniffled and uncovered her eyes, blinking at Sydnie as her lip quivered precariously. “I dropped my Sno-Cone,” she whispered, her little voice as soft as the breeze.

 

Sydnie clucked her tongue as she noticed the paper cone on the ground. Lying on its side with the cherry-red treat spilling all over the path, it was slowly melting, dispatching in ribbons streaking the dirt. “Kittens shouldn't cry over spilt milk,” Sydnie said as she shook her head.

 

The child wiped her nose on the pink cuff of her light jacket, shoulders slumped, the air of abject despair surrounding her.

 

Sydnie sighed and slowly held out the stuffed dog. “Here. Would you like this? He could use a good home.”

 

With a hiccup, the girl reached out and took the offering. A small smile that seemed completely misplaced with the tears that still stood in her eyes spread over her face, and she stood up quickly, throwing her arms around Sydnie's neck. “Thank you!” she exclaimed.

 

Sydnie hesitated for a moment before hugging the child. “Shouldn't you go find your parents?”

 

The girl nodded and let go. “Mama's working the hat booth,” she said. Turning on her heel, she skipped away, hugging the stuffed dog tight as she disappeared around the curve of the path.

 

Sydnie waited until the child was out of sight before slowly pushing herself to her feet, dusting her hands off as she broke into a little grin.

 

“I won that for you, you know,” Bas said softly as Sydnie turned to face him. He didn't sound irritated at all, and his eyes were strangely warm as he gazed at her.

 

“Children shouldn't cry,” she murmured, unsure why his scrutiny made her knees feel weak.

 

He stuffed his hands in to the pockets of his duster and ambled toward her. “No, they shouldn't,” he agreed. “You, uh, want me to win you another dog?”

 

She shrugged. “I have a puppy . . . I don't need another one, do I?”

 

For once, the term didn't seem to bother him, and he grinned as his cheeks pinked a little. “You surprise me, cat.”

 

“It was just a stuffed dog.”

 

He stopped before her, amber gaze glowing bright, the vaguest hint of a smile touching the corners of his lips. She couldn't interpret the emotion in his eyes, but the flicker of approval was obvious enough. She'd somehow managed to please him, even if she didn't really understand how.

 

Bas' smile didn't disappear as he gazed at her, staring down at her as though he were trying to see into her mind. “Who are you really, Sydnie Taylor?”

 

She shrugged as her eyes skittered away, finding it easier to watch the leaves dance across the muted brown grass. “Who do you want me to be, Bas the Hunter?”

 

He caught her hand, lifted her knuckles to his lips, blew on the blades of the pinwheel. The exhalation lifted her bangs as another little shiver raced down her spine. She stared at it, watched the convolution of swirling colors. Bas let go of her hand only to bring his palm up to cup her cheek, rubbing her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. Sydnie caught his wrist but didn't try to push him away, clinging to him as she shook her head, as she tried to figure out just what was happening. Blood pounding through her body made her feel curiously hot, strangely lethargic. She felt her breath hitch in her chest as his gaze narrowed the tiniest bit. A hint of challenge? An unvoiced warning? Or was it a promise of something that she didn't quite dare to hope for . . .?

 

Bas lifted his other hand to stroke her face, his touch feathering over her skin as softly as the brush of a feather. Sound seemed to fade as he gently tilted her head back, as his lips hesitated on hers for little more than a moment only to return once more. She leaned against him, accepted his kiss, let go of his wrist only to slip her arms around his neck. The idea of trying to resist him hadn't occurred to her at all. Tilting his head as he moaned softly, Bas wrapped his arms around her, offering her support, stability . . . offering her his protection.

 

His lips opened to hers; pressed against hers with a gentle ferocity that spoke to her soul. Barely contained emotion simmered just below the quiet façade. His body trembled against hers; strength humbled by a quiet restraint. Sydnie traced the contours of his lips with the tip of her tongue. He growled; a primitive warning silenced by the shocking feel of his tongue against hers: stroking, caressing . . .

 

The beat of his heart synchronized with hers, wild, erratic, and entirely soothing while the burgeoning swell of desire hung thick in the air. Friends or enemies; rivals or reluctant adversaries . . . it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to Sydnie was the draw of Bas' youki, the lure of something that could be beautiful, if she only had the courage to meet him halfway.

 

The power that seemed to radiate from him engulfed her; welcomed her. She sighed against his lips and tried to press her body closer, welcoming the heat of his skin that permeated the thin fabric of his t-shirt. Slipping her hands under his coat, she kneaded his wide shoulders, reveled in the raw strength that she could feel simmering just below the surface. The absolute lure of him had become a palpable thing. Driven by an unvoiced desire, she willed him to understand. Maybe her pride wouldn't allow her to admit as much out loud, but her actions would. Bas crushed her to him, her feet barely touching the ground as the world spun away from her; as time slowed then stood still, leaving only the two of them in a world where nothing else really mattered at all . . .

 

The intrusion of a shift in the atmosphere was dulled in her mind. She couldn't think, didn't want to lose the contact of Bas' body against hers. With a sharply muttered curse, he tore his mouth away from hers, glancing over his shoulder seconds before he shoved her away. The sharp hiss of his gasp echoed in her ears as a gust of wind and the whistle of swift movement zipped past her. Bas grunted as the impact of the attack hit him, and the anger that had barely begun to form at the perceived callousness of his actions dissolved. “Bas!” she screamed, pushing herself off her bottom to her knees.

 

The force of the energy blast exploded in a white-blue light, hitting him in the center of his chest, and he grunted as he slid back, his boots leaving scars in the dormant earth. As the light died away, Sydnie's eyes widened in shock. Bas had managed to draw his sword, and, slamming the tip into the ground, had prevented himself from being sent flying from the blast. Jerking the sword free as he straightened his back, he uttered a harsh sound—not quite a bark, not quite a growl—that she somehow understood. Without looking back, she pushed herself to her feet and darted behind him. She blinked, pressing her hand against her chest as she swallowed hard and willed her heart to slow, resisting the need to melt against him, to draw from his calm, his strength, as hers faltered for just a moment.

 

`Get a hold of yourself, Sydnie . . . The last thing either of you need is for you to lose your head.'

 

She winced at her youkai's sound, if not gruff, advice. Closing her eyes long enough to draw a deep breath, she grasped the back of Bas' leather duster for a moment as she reigned in her rioting emotions. She leaned to the side to peer around his arm, she stifled a groan. `More bounty hunters . . .?'

 

“Well, well, well . . . now this is interesting, don't you think?”

 

“Quite . . . No wonder he's taking his time in taking her to the Zelig . . . it makes much more sense to me now.”

 

The man—a bat-youkai—rolled his head from side to side, neck popping in response to the action as a toothy grin surfaced on his gaunt face. Running his fingers through his spiky black hair, he leaned to the side to get a good look at Sydnie and chuckled. “Can't say I blame him, Lessa. She's a pretty little pussy cat, what say?”

 

Lessa wrinkled her nose but didn't take her eyes off Bas. “Remember: we're here to do a job, can't you?”

 

She bit her lip. Two against one was hardly fair. Then again, bounty hunters weren't exactly known for conducting themselves in a sportsman-like manner. They'd fight dirty if they had to, and while she didn't doubt that Bas could beat them both in fair fights, she wasn't so sure what his odds were against the likes of these two.

 

“Bas . . .”

 

“Quiet, cat. Just stay behind me,” he growled.

 

“Oh, look . . . he's going to protect her!” the male mocked. “How precious.”

 

“Just remember: the boss wants him alive,” the wind-youkai reminded her cohort, crossing her arms over her chest as she smiled insincerely. “As for the bitch . . .”

 

The man laughed again. “There's that, too, but a bit o' sport never hurt anyone.”

 

Her smile widened. “Sport, you say?” Allowing her gaze to roam up and down Bas' frame, she grinned lazily. “He's a little more my type than she is.”

 

Sydnie couldn't repress the sing-song howl that rose in her throat at Lessa's goading. She started to dodge around the obstacle of Bas' body, but he must have anticipated her move, catching her wrist easily in his free hand and tugging her behind him once more. “Stay back, Sydnie,” Bas muttered. “I mean it.”

 

Lifting her right hand, fingers splayed before her face as her smile widened, Lessa slashed the air, her hand outstretched, unleashing five blades of wind that shot out of her fingertips. Bas deflected them with Triumvirate, his body jerking slightly as each of the projectiles reverberated against the youkai weapon. “Ah, so you're not just a pretty face, after all,” she teased.

 

The bat-youkai shot forward, claws drawn back as he swung a wide arc at Bas' chest. “Why don't you just hand her over? You know, save us the time and trouble.”

 

“Over my dead body,” Bas growled, raising the blade of his sword in time to block the youkai's descending claws.

 

The male grunted, pushing off the blunt side of Triumvirate's blade as he sprang back to regroup. “So sorry, hunter. Nothing personal, but the boss' orders, you see? Alive, maybe, but the boss didn't say we couldn't rough you up a bit, first.”

 

He threw his head back, uttering a sharp noise, an unrelenting pitch that nearly brought Sydnie to her knees. So high in pitch that human ears likely couldn't discern it, the sound was designed to disorient youkai, and Bas—a dog-youkai—had to feel the effects of it worse than she did.

 

She pressed her hands over her ears, unable to do much more than squeeze her eyes closed and wait for the sound to end. The blade of Bas' sword thudded against the ground, and Sydnie had a feeling that it was taking every bit of willpower he possessed to keep himself from dropping the weapon completely.

 

The next wave of wind blades zipped past. Bas managed to lift the sword in time to block one of them, but he had to lean to the side to avoid another. It grazed his cheek, and he growled, sparing a moment to glance over his shoulder to make sure Sydnie was still safe.

 

The sound was deafening. Forcing herself to peer around Bas again, she gasped as the bat-youkai lunged at Bas again. Bas hefted the sword over his opposite shoulder and hissed as the bat's sharp talon-like claws tore through the leather covering his arm. With a loud grunt, he brought the hilt down against the youkai's throat. The insidious racket mercifully stopped abruptly as the youkai sprang away once more, hand clenching his neck.

 

A flash of misty blue light shot out of Lessa's fingertips and whistled through the air—an energy whip. Bas blocked it with his raised forearm. The end wrapped around his arm, and he gritted his teeth as the wind-youkai flicked her wrist, tugging him toward her. Sydnie caught Bas' other arm and tried to pull him back.

 

Twisting his wrist, he caught the whip and sucked in his breath as it cut into his hand. Wrapping his hand once, twice, he jerked on the glowing line. Lessa growled as she stumbled, and the whip uncurled as she retracted it.

 

“Bas? Are you all right?” Sydnie demanded, forcing her horrified gaze away from his blood-soaked palm.

 

“Fine,” he muttered tersely. “I thought I told you—” Cutting himself off abruptly, Bas' chin snapped up as he eyes quickly scanned the surrounding trees. “Fuck!”

 

She looked around, too, scowling at the darkened trees; the shadows she couldn't discern. Too many flashes of light, too much of the unearthly sound that still rang in her ears, and much too strong, the scent of Bas' blood that filled her nose and turned her stomach . . . She couldn't tell what Bas was worried about, and she finally glanced up at him for clarification. “What is it?”

 

He shook his head, grimacing as he shifted Triumvirate into his injured hand so that he could grab Sydnie's wrist with the other. “Just stay close to me, Sydnie. Understand?”

 

The bat-youkai leapt again, arm drawn back to strike, a maniacal light blazing in his wild eyes. With his attention focused on Lessa, Bas didn't see him. Sydnie wrenched her arm free and darted forward to meet the youkai. With a fierce howl, she slashed her claws, catching the youkai across the side of his head, slicing through the tender flesh of his ear. The sickening rip of cartilage was drowned out by the furious rasping screech as the youkai's blood sprayed her arm, her shirt, her face. Raising his arm to strike her, he growled in absolute rage. Sydnie reacted on instinct, bringing her foot up and kicking it out, digging the spike of her stiletto heel into the bat-youkai's testicles.

 

“Oh, damn,” Bas mumbled, grimacing as he spared a moment to watch the bat-youkai double over. “Remind me to buy you flat shoes, cat.”

 

“Like I'd kick you in the balls, puppy.”

 

“God, I hope not.”

 

“Bitch!” the youkai bellowed as he lurched toward Sydnie.

 

Bas caught her and shoved her back again, raising his sword and cleaving through the youkai's chest. He turned away as the youkai exploded in a violent burst of light and dust and wind.

 

Sydnie shot out of the way of another blast of wind blades, lighting on her feet between Bas and the youkai as she glared at the bounty hunter. “Look at him again; I dare you,” she growled as she skirted around Lessa.

 

Lessa glanced from Bas to Sydnie and back again. “Jealous, kitty?”

 

She smiled insincerely as he stalked her prey. “Jealous? Of you? Do you think he'd really want to have anything to do with you when he can play with a real . . . pussy?”

 

Bas blinked at Sydnie's choice of wording as he caught her shoulder and pulled her back. “No, Sydnie,” he mumbled in her ear.

 

She scowled at his almost distracted tone of voice. “She's nothing but a lot of hot air,” Sydnie scoffed.

 

“I don't like killing women,” Bas asserted.

 

Lessa chuckled. “That's your downfall, hunter.” She drew her hand back to strike again. Bas grabbed Sydnie and leapt away. The wind blades hit the ground at his feet, sending chunks of earth flying into the air.

 

“I told you to stay behind me,” he growled.

 

Sydnie shook her head stubbornly and shot him a baleful glower. “I will when she stops looking at you!”

 

Bas shook his head and caught her arm again. “We don't have time to—”

 

A brilliant flash of light cut him off. He didn't have time enough to do much more than jerk her into his arms, turning them both so that she was sheltered from the blast that hurtled toward them. He grunted as it struck with a force so powerful that the two were lifted off the ground and blown backward. Somehow he managed to shift their positions in mid-air, gasping as he hit the earth hard with Sydnie's added weight atop him. “Damn it,” he groaned, carefully shoving Sydnie aside so he could stand. He'd lost his grip on Triumvirate. It lay on the ground about fifty feet away at Lessa's feet.

 

Sydnie scrambled to her feet, too, and darted away before Bas could catch her. “You came after me, right?” she called out as she circled around the wind-youkai.

 

Lessa stepped back to keep both in her line of sight. “It's nothing personal. You're just a paycheck to me.”

 

Sydnie kept moving, luring Lessa into doing the same. “How much am I worth?”

 

Lessa clucked her tongue. “Ah-ah-ah . . . breech of professional etiquette, you understand.”

 

“Then you'll need to tell your boss that you need a raise . . . that is, if you make it back because I won't die so easily.”

 

Lessa raised her hands in front of her chest as a bright ball of white energy sparked and started to grow. Out of the corner of her eye, Sydnie saw Bas closing the distance though he still wasn't close enough to reach his sword. One arm tucked neatly over his ribcage, he looked a little pale despite the grimly determined set of his features. Sydnie concentrated on the youkai, preparing herself to spring out of the way. The ball of energy between Lessa's hands crackled and popped dangerously; an ominous warning.

 

Sydnie glanced away long enough to check on Bas' progress. Lessa noticed the slip and whipped around, ready to unleash her attack. Bas dove, retrieving his sword as he rolled to his knees, his body nothing more than a blur of motion. Sydnie screamed as the energy ball exploded, shielding her face with her arms and squinting as the glow blinded her, as an unnatural wind howled in her ears. Lowering her arms when the wind died away, she blinked, staring in numb disbelief at the lone figure of the man on his knees, his sword still held in the position where he'd thrust it through Lessa's chest. The wind-youkai was gone, and the park seemed eerily quiet.

 

“Bas . . .” she murmured, stumbling toward the hunter.

 

Lowering the sword as he slowly got to his feet, Bas groaned as Sydnie hurled herself against his chest. “Come on,” he grumbled after indulging her for a moment. He stepped back and dropped Triumvirate into the scabbard strapped to his hip. “We can't stay here.”

 

“You're hurt,” she pointed out.

 

“It's fine,” he argued, grabbing her hand. He forced a wry smile, but he looked absolutely exhausted. “Let's go.”

 

“But—”

 

He rounded on her, glowering down at her, eyes bright with obvious irritation. “Look . . . that fight was loud, don't you think? Someone was bound to notice it, and I, for one, would rather not be here when the human authorities arrive. We've got to move, Sydnie, now . . . and I've got to call the tai-youkai.”

 

“You should tell him you want a raise,” she grumbled but let him take her hand and drag her toward the trees. He kept glancing around as though he was looking for something, but as the consuming fear that had assailed her loosened its grip, she couldn't quite help herself, either. “And how dare that bitch eyeball you? You should have let me scratch her eyes out . . .”

 

Bas sighed. “Be quiet, can't you? I'm trying to listen . . .”

 

“Listen for what?”

 

He shook his head. “To make sure we're not being followed.”

 

She stopped short. “Are we?”

 

Bas tugged her hand and quickened his pace. “Nope . . . now move.”

 

She let him lead her through the trees, a thoughtful scowl marring her brow. Bas was lying; she could tell. She just wasn't sure why he was lying . . .

 

They hopped over the row of hedges surrounding the park, and he grimaced as he hit the sidewalk. `He really is hurt,' she mused as he hurried her toward the cars lining the street. Thankfully, he'd parked nearby, and as the first police car zoomed past, lights flashing and sirens blaring, she couldn't help but agree that maybe putting some distance between themselves and Ardmore, Oklahoma just might be a really good idea.

 

 

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A/N:

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Reviewers

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MMorg

Kyasumi ------ OROsan0677 ------ Ranuel ------ Rawben ------ NekoKamiFL ------ inuyashaloverr ------ artemiswaterdragon ------ Ayita

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Final Thought fromBas:

…Damn it …

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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~