InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Changes in the Plan ( Chapter 16 )

~~Chapter 16~~

~Changes in the Plan~

 

Bas rubbed his eyes and tried not to flinch as he kicked off his boots and waited for his father to answer the phone. His entire body ached. The thick leather duster had saved his shoulder from being torn open though the slits in the fabric were rather ominous reminders. His hand had been cut open when he'd touched the wind-youkai's energy whip though luckily that had stopped bleeding hours ago. The tiny cut on his cheek was minimal, barely worth noting, actually. His ears still rang from the bat-youkai's ungodly shrill wailing, and his head thumped painfully. No, the crux of his pain centered on his ribs. The right side of his torso ached horribly, and every time he moved, he felt like screaming, which had made the hours on the road sheer torture.

 

She'd remained quiet as he'd wrapped her cream colored tube skirt around his hand—it was the only thing that they could find to staunch the flow of blood. He'd hastily turned in the car and traded it for a different rental, handing over a wad of cash—he wasn't sure how much—to pay the agency to turn in their hotel room key. They'd left his suitcase behind along with all his clothing, but he'd been leaving the file with Sydnie's information in the car since the cat was a little too curious for her own good. Sydnie had everything of hers stuffed into that monstrosity she called a purse, so he'd chalked the sacrifice of his clothing up to acceptable loss and figured he'd just have to take the time to buy new clothes when they were safe enough to stop.

 

Sydnie had pointed out that it would only take a minute to run inside and get his suitcase, but Bas had refused. So far as he could tell, she didn't realize that there had been a third youkai in the park. He hadn't seen the stranger, but he had sensed the presence, and therein laid the problem. He couldn't run the risk of being trapped in another fight; not with his body suffering the effects of the previous encounter. It was his fault; entirely his fault. He'd let his guard down. He'd allowed himself to be distracted, and he was damn lucky that Sydnie hadn't been hurt . . .

 

He'd driven the rest of the day and well into the night, stopping just long enough to change cars again before the rental agency closed. He'd purchased The Old Farmer's Almanac for the detailed road maps, and had kept on the back roads, only venturing close to towns when they needed to refuel. Sydnie hadn't complained though she'd kept casting him worried glances; no small wonder since he hadn't been able to completely mask his discomfort. Country roads might be good for getting around without drawing undue attention, but they weren't the smoothest to travel on, and more than once he'd nearly moaned out loud when they'd hit a pothole or an unexpected bump.

 

“Bas? Something wrong?” Cain demanded, voice still groggy from sleep.

 

Glancing at the clock, Bas sighed, rubbing his forehead with a shaking, weary hand. It was after midnight, Louisiana time. Bas wasn't sure. Maine time might be an hour later . . . “Sorry, Dad . . . I wasn't thinking. I should've waited . . .”

 

“No, no . . .” Cain insisted. Bas could make out creak of his parents' huge oak bed as his father sat up. “You sound a little off.”

 

“Met up with some more hunters,” Bas went on, his voice sounding oddly detached and flat. “A wind-youkai named Lessa and some bat-youkai . . .”

 

Cain didn't reply right away. “You took care of them?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Damn it.”

 

“I think there was a third, but I never saw him.”

 

“A lurker? Figures. Did you find out anything?”

 

Bas grimaced. “I was a little too busy to ask.”

 

“It's all right . . . Sesshoumaru's tangled with these two factions before. He sent Gunnar with the information they have on the groups. Are you sure you're all right?”

 

Gritting his teeth as he shifted slightly, Bas paused before answering. “I'm fine.”

 

“. . . You don't sound `fine'.”

 

“I took a couple hits,” he explained.

 

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Cain prompted.

 

“Not much to tell,” he grumbled, unable to staunch the flow of blood that filtered into his cheeks at the memory of what had transpired just before the fight. “The female—the wind youkai . . . She hurled an energy ball at us. I got Sydnie out of the way, but she hit me.”

 

“Got her out of the way? How?”

 

Bas grimaced again. “I shoved her.”

 

“Oh . . .”

 

“Anyway, the bat-youkai had some sort of sonic attack. My ears are still ringing, but he was fairly simple to take out. The wind-youkai was tougher.”

 

“Bas?”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

Cain sighed. “Didn't you see them before they attacked?”

 

“. . . No . . .”

 

“You didn't sense them?”

 

“. . . No . . .”

 

“Were they cloaking their youki?”

 

Bas squeezed his eyes closed and heaved a weary sigh. “. . . No . . .”

 

“Then how did they sneak up on you?”

 

“Well . . .”

 

“Bas,” Cain began in a warning tone.

 

He tucked his arm around his ribs and braced his feet on the floor to push himself up a little straighter. “I was . . . distracted . . .” he admitted.

 

“Distracted?” Cain echoed incredulously. “`Distracted', how?”

 

“Just distracted; that's all,” Bas muttered.

 

“Sebastian . . .”

 

“I-we-she—” He sighed. Getting the proper-name-treatment from his father just didn't bode well; not at all . . . “I was . . . kissing . . . her.”

 

In the background, Bas could hear the faint `snick' of a disposable lighter, and he grimaced. Cain had obviously slipped out of the bedroom and was in one of the two places in the house where Gin allowed him to smoke: his personal studio or his study. Bas waited for the gauntlet to fall. “You were kissing . . . Sydnie?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“You're supposed to be bringing her in for questioning about the murder that she admits to having committed,” Cain reminded him.

 

Bas grimaced. “She isn't a murderer!”

 

“That's not the point.”

 

“It wasn't as though I sat there trying to find a reason to kiss her,” he grumbled.

 

“That hardly matters.”

 

“It won't happen again.”

 

“Can you really promise me that?”

 

Bas clenched his jaw. “Yes, sir.”

 

Cain sighed. “I see.”

 

“I-i-it wasn't—I didn't—I mean, she and I—”

 

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

 

His grimace shifted into a low groan, his father's inference clear. “No, sir.”

 

“I know you've said she's not a murderer—”

 

“She's not!” Bas cut in, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his tone.

 

“And I believe you. Bas, I trust your judgment, however—”

 

Bas dragged a hand over his face as he tried to stave back the feeling of complete exasperation. “Everything's fine.”

 

“I'm not trying to pry into your personal affairs, son, but I have to ask . . . are you sure you can handle this? And before you get mad, I mean to say that if you're letting yourself get . . . distracted . . . by her, then can you really do your job?”

 

“Yes,” he gritted out, clenching his fist, digging his claws into the heel of his hand.

 

“I trust you won't let something like this happen again?”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

Cain sighed again. “. . . I'm going to send Gunnar out there to talk to both of you.”

 

“I don't think—”

 

“I need for you to tell him everything you remember about these bounty hunters. He's helping me try to figure out who they are, and who hired them.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Bas forced himself to say. He just knew that Cain had ulterior motives for doing such a thing, but he also knew that Cain would never admit as much, either. “Fine.”

 

“Stay put. I'll send him out as soon as possible. Tell me where you are.”

 

“Shreveport, Louisiana,” he replied. “The Cypress Hotel, room 102.”

 

He could hear the faint scratch of a pen on paper while Cain wrote down the address. “Are you sure you weren't followed?”

Bas started to say that he was then scowled. “Not unless they were on foot,” he allowed.

 

“And that's entirely possible, too.” Cain let out a deep breath. “Can't be helped, but I doubt they'd walk into the hotel . . .”

 

Bas grunted. He'd thought as much, too. Unlike humans, who didn't seem to care where they did their dirty deeds, youkai, for the most part, tended to lean toward secrecy, normally lying in wait until an opportunity presented itself to avoid drawing undue attention. Even those who hated humans kept to the unwritten rule. After all, stirring up suspicion and drawing notice weren't exactly conducive to covert operations. All the same, Bas added, “I doubt it, too. Then again, I didn't figure they'd attack in that park, either. The city was sponsoring a Thanksgiving festival downtown, and the park was just off the main quad.”

 

“Just lie low, okay?” Cain asked.

 

“Yes, sir,” Bas assured him. Sighing again as he lowered the phone and snapped it closed, he dropped it carelessly onto the table as Sydnie stepped out of the bathroom. She'd bathed and changed into her only change of clothes—a black tank top that didn't quite reach her belly button and a pair of decidedly feminine pale pink g-string panties. Toweling her hair dry, she gazed at him with those bright, jewel-like eyes. “Where are the rest of your clothes, Sydnie?” he rasped out, quickly turning away before he did something utterly stupid—like grab her and kiss her again.

 

She clucked her tongue. “You used my other skirt for a bandage, remember? And the clothes I just took off were filthy. Anyway, I drew a bath for you. You should soak awhile.”

 

Snapping his mouth closed on the retort that had been forming on the tip of his tongue, Bas sighed instead. Sydnie was right. He had used her skirt as a bandage—at her insistence. “I'm fine,” he grumbled, gritting his teeth as he ignored the pain in his ribs whenever he drew a breath.

 

She folded the towel lengthwise and careful laid it over the back of a metal chair at the rickety old table before grabbing his leather duster and her purse and settling on the end of the bed. “Are you sure? The fight was pretty intense.”

 

“Yes, cat, I'm sure,” he grouched. “Anyway, what are you doing?”

 

Sydnie spared him a quick glance before digging into her purse for a packet of wet-naps. “Cleaning your jacket,” she said simply. She scowled at the torn shoulder. “I can try to mend this, if you want. I have a little sewing kit in here . . .”

 

Momentarily surprised at her offer, Bas could only nod while she fished around in her purse for the aforementioned sewing kit. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “That'd be really nice.”

 

“Mmm,” she murmured as she examined the ripped leather.

 

Bas watched her for a moment, a hesitant grin surfacing on his face before he turned slowly and headed for the bathroom.

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Sydnie knocked on the bathroom door.

 

Bas grunted in reply, and she grinned. “Are you all right in there?”

 

“As fine as I was two minutes ago when you asked, Sydnie.”

 

“You need me to wash your back, puppy?”

 

He sighed. “No.”

 

“You need me to wash your front?”

 

“. . . No.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” he growled.

 

“Are you positive?”

 

“Sydnie . . .”

 

“Don't say I didn't offer.” She laughed softly and sauntered back toward the bed, settling down with Bas' jacket to figure out how to stitch the torn leather. She'd bought the small sewing kit months ago, figuring that it would be cheaper to mend her clothing than to replace them. She wasn't very good at it, but she wasn't terrible, either. Thing was, she'd never tried to mend anything as difficult as Bas' leather coat, either.

 

Pressing her lips together in a thin line, she scowled as she held the leather and carefully caught the edges as smoothly and evenly as she could, whip-stitching the smallest tear. The needle was difficult to force through the unforgiving leather, but, using the small plastic thimble in the sewing kit, she managed to close the laceration fairly quickly, and was mid-way through the second cut when the unnerving trill of Bas' cell phone made her jump. It took a moment for her system to settle down again, and she cast a fulminating glower at the ringing phone before wrinkling her nose and trying to ignore it. After ten rings, it fell mercifully silent, and Sydnie heaved a sigh of relief as she resumed her task once more.

 

Two minutes later, it rang again. Sydnie ground her teeth together and tried to ignore it, but when the phone started ringing for the third time, she gave up with a frustrated sigh. Dropping the leather duster onto the bed beside her, she sprang to her feet and grabbed the annoying device before stomping toward the bathroom. “Bas,” she called, rapping lightly on the door, “your phone is ringing.”

 

The slosh of water drifted through the thin, pressed wood door. “Just ignore it, cat.”

 

“But it keeps ringing,” she whined.

 

He sighed. “Then shut off the ringer.”

 

“How do I do that?”

 

“Look on the side. There's a switch that says `ringer' and you can turn it off there, okay?”

 

“You should have taken it in there with you,” she pointed out as the final ring cut itself off mid-tone.

 

“Just shut it off, and leave it alone.”

 

Sydnie growled out a `hrumph', stalking away from the door and shuffling over to the bed once more. Sitting down once more, she turned the device over in her hands, looking for the switch he'd mentioned. The cell phone rang, and she squeaked out a strangled little scream, very nearly dropping the phone in the process. Flipping it open, she scowled at the digital display screen. She pushed the button labeled `connect' and cautiously lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

 

“. . . You're not Bas.”

 

She blinked in surprise at the deep, lazy sound of the caller's voice. “No, I'm not,” she agreed.

 

“You sound much sexier than Bas.”

 

Sydnie grinned, her initial irritation melting away. “I am!” she agreed.

 

“Kami, I hope so . . . Can I ask to whom I'm speaking?”

 

She giggled. “Sydnie.”

 

“Sydnie,” he repeated. “As in, the Sydnie?”

 

“The one and only,” she quipped.

 

“Sydnie the kitty?”

 

“Mee-ow.”

 

“Nice . . . very nice . . .”

 

She shifted her weight, curling her legs onto the bed beside her. “And who are you?”

 

“Me? I'm Bas' cousin, Gunnar.”

 

“Cousin?”

 

He chuckled. “Well, technically, more like his second cousin or some such . . . my father is Bas' mother's cousin.”

 

“Gunnar,” she repeated. “I like Gunnar.”

 

“And I think I really like Sydnie.”

 

“Of course you do,” she assured him.

 

“So tell me, Sydnie the kitty . . . are you as sexy in person as your voice is on the phone?”

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

She grinned. “More.”

 

“Really.”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“I can't believe that,” Gunnar replied. “You sound damn sexy . . . I can't imagine you being sexier than that . . .”

 

“Oh, I am, Gunnar . . . are you a puppy like Bas?”

 

“A puppy?”

 

“Mhmm.”

 

“I assure you, Sydnie, there's nothing `puppy-ish' about me.”

 

“You don't say.”

 

“I do say.”

 

Sydnie laughed. “Does that mean you have a big . . . gun?”

 

“Damn straight.”

 

“Why are you calling so late, Gunnar?”

 

He chuckled again, countering Sydnie's question with one of his own. “Do you always answer Bas' phone?”

 

Eyebrows lifting in surprise at the sound of Gunnar's strange accent, she noted that he spoke English perfectly despite the foreign lilt in his tone. “Only when it keeps ringing at me.”

 

“Can I ask where my cousin is?”

 

She sighed. “He's taking a bubble bath.”

 

“. . . A . . . bubble . . . bath.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“. . . Bas is in a bubble bath?”

 

“Of course . . . he was in a fight, you know.”

 

Gunnar grunted. “Ah, yes . . . the fight.”

 

“Let me see if he's almost done.” Sydnie untangled herself and sauntered back to the bathroom door again. “Bas?”

 

“What?” he growled.

 

“Do you want me to bring you the phone?”

 

“No, Sydnie, I don't.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Are you sure?”

 

“Damn it, cat! You're the one who insisted I needed a good soak, weren't you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then leave me alone while I'm doing it!”

 

Sydnie wrinkled her nose. “Suit yourself, puppy . . .” She lifted the phone back to her ear as she skulked away from the door. “He's a little grumpy right now.”

 

“Aw, poor kitty.”

 

“Hmm, yes, poor kitty . . . he just doesn't understand me at all.”

 

“You know, Sydnie, I am still having trouble believing that you're hotter than you sound.”

 

“Believe it, puppy.”

 

He paused for a moment, as though he were considering something. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Tell me something . . .”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Does that phone have a camera on it?”

 

“I don't know . . .”

 

“Well, look at it. If it does, there should be a small LCD screen and a button with a camera icon on it.”

 

She lowered the phone and looked it over. “Oh, so there is! You're such a clever puppy!”

 

“Why don't you take a picture of yourself and send it to me?”

 

“I can do that?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Hmm, hold on.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Beside the camera button was one with a little depiction of a stopwatch. Sydnie slowly pressed the button, mouth rounding in an `oh' when the screen asked her to select how much time she wanted. She selected twenty seconds and folded the device so that it would sit on the low bureau beside the television. It snapped the picture, and Sydnie stared thoughtfully at the area shown on the small screen before resetting the timer—this time for thirty seconds—and hurried over to sit on the floor in front of the bed, leaning on her hand as she curled her legs to the side.

 

The click of the camera was strangely loud in the silent hotel room, and Sydnie crawled over to retrieve it. Grinning happily at the image, she lifted the phone back to her ear. “So tell me, Gunnar . . . how do I send this to you?”

 

“Hmm,” he drawled, “well . . . if it's like my phone, you have to scroll through the list of numbers in memory and send it to me. If it's one of the newer ones, you should be able to just tell it to send it now.”

 

“Let me look,” she agreed. She tapped the `menu' button and grinned, selecting the `send image' option from the list presented. “There!”

 

“I'm getting it now,” Gunnar told her. “Hold on . . .”

 

She waited for a few moments when he stopped talking. Sinking down on the floor and leaning against the bed, she drummed her claws on the carpet as she waited for him to speak again. “Well?”

 

He cleared his throat. “Holy dogs,” he murmured, his voice a little gruff, almost hoarse. “Damn . . . I think I just came in my pants, kitty . . .”

 

“Really?”

 

“Hell, yes. I like your little panties.”

 

“Bas was complaining about them.”

 

“Well, maybe you should just take them off?”

 

“Maybe,” she giggled. “I'm hot, huh?”

 

Gunnar chuckled and cleared his throat again. “Hot . . . no . . . I think you need a whole new word.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Hmm,” he muttered as he thought it over. “How about . . . pussylicious?”

 

She giggled. “Oh, I like that!”

 

“I thought you would.”

 

“Bas thinks I'm scrawny,” she went on.

 

“The hell you say!”

 

“The hell I do say!”

 

“Is he blind?”

 

Sydnie laughed. “No, but he seemed to like kissing me well enough.”

 

“Bas . . . kissed you?”

 

“Mhmm . . . right before those bounty hunters attacked us.”

 

“I see . . . you know, Sydnie, if you get sick of Bas, I'd be happy to help you out.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Absolutely. How'd you like to be my goddess? I swear I'd worship you properly . . .”

 

“Bowing to the power of the pussy?” she teased.

 

“I'd hit my knees for you.”

 

“Of course you would, puppy . . . I'm pussylicous, right?”

 

“Da-a-amn . . . You wouldn't me interested in being my mate, would you?” he teased.

 

“Well, I'd have to see what you look like before I made a commitment like that,” she quipped.

 

“Me? I'm an ugly mutt . . . only one uglier than me is Bas.”

 

“Bas is uglier than you, is he?” she mused.

 

“Yes. Yes, he is.”

 

“Then I definitely have to see a picture of you. After all, you've seen what I look like . . . What's it called? Tit for tat . . . I titted you . . . time for you to show me your . . . tat.”

 

He chuckled softly. “Fine, fine . . . I think I have a picture on this. Let me look, okay?”

 

He fiddled around with his phone for a few moments then sighed. “There.”

 

Sydnie giggled as the picture appeared on the small monitor. Long black hair tumbling over one shoulder, lean face with a slightly mocking grin, she noticed that the man in the picture had the same eye color as Bas, but most surprising of all were the tiny triangular dog ears perched atop his hair. “You're hanyou!” she exclaimed. “You have puppy ears!”

 

“You want to stroke `em, don't you, kitten?”

 

“I want to bite them,” she clarified.

 

“You can do that tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow?”

 

He chuckled. “Yep . . . I'm coming out there in the morning to get information on the bounty hunters from you both.”

 

“I get two puppies?”

 

“Sydnie, sweetie, you can have anything you want from me.”

 

Sydnie laughed but didn't even glance up when the bathroom door opened. Bas shuffled out of the bathroom and stopped short, uttering a terse growl as he stalked over to snatch the phone out of her hand, glancing at the caller ID screen before bringing the device to his ear. “What the fuck do you want?”

 

Sydnie pulled the duster off the bed and grinned as she resumed her mending. Bas grumbled unintelligible words into the phone and stomped toward the door, slipping outside into the hallway to have some privacy while he finished the phone call.

 

She giggled softly. She wasn't sure what to make of this cousin of Bas', but she was looking forward to his impending arrival very, very much.

 

`I don't know, Syd . . . How do you know that you can trust this `Gunnar' person?'

 

She wrinkled her nose. `He's Bas' cousin, isn't he? Bas trusts him or he wouldn't have his phone number, right?'

 

`You're playing with fire; just so you know.'

 

`Gunnar is a lot better for a girl's ego than Bas is . . .'

 

`You're asking for trouble, Sydnie.'

 

She sighed, her grin widening as memories of the kiss filtered through her mind. `Then again, Bas has a few redeeming qualities, doesn't he?'

 

Her youkai groaned softly as Sydnie's laughter filled the hotel room.

 

 

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A/N:

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Reviewers

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katgirlofthenight ------ OROsan0677 ------ floopyloopyoopy ------ futekioosha ------ thefaeryofpurejoy ------ animeloca ------ Rawben ------ inuyashaloverr ------ Inuyoukaimama ------ Lisa C

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Final Thought fromBas:

…Dad's sending Gunnar …?

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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~