InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ The Onyx ( Chapter 22 )

~~Chapter 22~~

~The Onyx~

 

Bas yawned and slowly opened his eyes to gaze down at the cat-youkai still snuggled against his chest. Her shoulders were bare, pale in the wan light of the gray morning filtering through the rain-streaked window. Bending his knee, he shifted slightly, careful not to wake the feline. Sydnie uttered a little moan, the reassuring sound of her purr cutting off abruptly but resuming the moment he stopped moving.

 

He sighed, a small grin surfacing on his face as he gently smoothed her hair.

 

`Seven-fifteen,' he read, peering at the clock on the nightstand. He had very little doubt in his mind that Gunnar would want to get moving soon. He'd said as much before heading off to his bedroom last night. Obviously worried that the bounty hunters weren't far behind, Gunnar had been quiet, terse, almost pensive since Sydnie had told him about the order that the bounty hunters were to bring Bas in alive. Add to that the fact that Bas and Sydnie both sorely needed to go clothes shopping, and Bas figured that staying in bed all day was really out of the question . . .

 

`As if,' Bas snorted indelicately. `I'd love to see them try it . . .'

 

He rubbed her shoulder and pulled the blanket up to tuck snugly under her chin. She sighed happily and nestled a little closer. She shifted slightly as Bas' eyes widened. Sometime during the night, her towel had come undone, and there was nothing separating their bodies but her flimsy pair of panties and the jeans that he'd worn to bed. `Oh, damn . . .' he thought with a grimace as the heat of Sydnie's body on his shot through his system with a wicked abandon. `Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn . . .'

 

`Don't panic, Bas . . . So long as she doesn't move . . .'

 

The grimace shifted into a low moan. `So long as she doesn't move? What the . . .? Of course she's going to move, and when she does—'

 

`When she does, you'll . . . what?'

 

`Die,' he decided, closing his eyes tight. `Absolutely die . . . Damn it . . . How stupid could I be? I should have known . . . and now I'm going to die . . .'

 

“Morning, puppy,” she mumbled as she stretched.

 

Bas stifled a groan as she rose up and leaned over him, her nipples dragging against the overheated skin of his chest as she rose on her knees and lifted her ass, hands clenching fistfuls of pillow on either side of his head. As languorously as she stretched back, she leaned forward again, her breasts sliding over him in a tormenting motion. “Something the matter, Bas the Hunter?” she asked innocently as she cuddled against his chest once more.

 

He shook his head quickly, refusing to open his eyes. Brain dangerously close to malfunctioning, he struggled for words that just wouldn't come.

 

She rested her hands on his chest and nipped his chin as he swallowed hard.

 

“S-Sydnie . . . st-stop . . .”

 

She giggled huskily, flicking her tongue, lapping at the curve of his jaw. “Mmm . . . stuttering . . . Now that's nice . . .”

 

He gulped again. “You need to . . . stop . . .” he rasped out.

 

She drew her legs up, letting them fall open as she straddled him, as she pressed herself against his groin. Bas uttered a sound caught somewhere between a growl and a moan. She laughed softly, trailing the lightest of kisses over his face. Rising on her hands placed on either side of his head, she nibbled on his lips with a throaty purr.

 

“Damn,” he muttered between feathery kisses. “Sydnie, I . . .” He trailed off, forcing his eyes open moments before she ground herself against him. The shocking pressure built; the rampant desire surged . . . Arching away from him, she delved her tongue into his mouth, tracing his fangs with a wanton fervor that slammed through his body straight to his heart. Gasping at the sight of her dusty rose nipples, Bas couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't remember anything but Sydnie's name, couldn't hear anything but the rush of his blood resounding in his ears. He felt the unrelenting throb as his body reacted to hers—the ache, the burn . . . the consuming fire that seared him. “Oh, God . . .”

 

“Holy dogs . . .”

 

The sound of Gunnar's voice cut through the haze of Bas' Sydnie-induced stupor. Uttering a low growl, he held Sydnie tight to keep her from doing something insane, like sitting up to greet his cousin. “What?” he snarled, grimacing at the heated flush that shot into his skin as he peeked over Sydnie's shoulder.

 

Gunnar wisely looked away despite the obvious amusement on his features. “I take it you're not ready to go.”

 

“Get the hell out, Gunnar,” Bas growled.

 

Gunnar cleared his throat and shrugged. “I'll, uh . . . wait out here.”

 

She drew back far enough to smile at him, her laughter shaky, husky, caressing. “Sebastian?”

 

“Huh?” he murmured, shaking his head to dispel the haze created by Sydnie's close proximity.

 

“. . . You're poking me.”

 

“Wha . . .?”

 

She giggled and ground her hips against him, eliciting a low, ragged groan from Bas. “You're poking me, puppy . . . and a quite impressive poke, it is.”

 

Bas' mouth dropped open as even more color stained his cheeks. Shoving Sydnie off his chest, he rolled over and sat up, hunching his shoulders as he leaned on his knees, cupping his face in his hands as he stifled the desire to groan.

 

She giggled and sat up, too, pressing her breasts into his back and reaching over his shoulders to knead the muscles on his chest. “I hear that's a problem for men,” she teased.

 

“Get off me, Sydnie,” he growled.

 

Sydnie carefully brushed his hair aside, letting it trail over his shoulder as she kissed the back of his neck. “You don't really want me to do that, do you?” she pouted.

 

Gritting his teeth as he tried in vain to ignore the mischievous cat, Bas sighed. “Yes . . . no . . . maybe . . .”

 

She laughed softly, her breath fanning over the moistened skin and sending shivers down his spine. “Don't you want me?” she whispered, nipping his earlobe as his eyes drifted closed.

 

“Not . . . now,” he told her, catching her hands and holding her gently but firmly as he turned to face her. “Just not now, okay?”

 

Sydnie's eyes clouded in confusion. Shaking her head, she sat back with a sigh before curling up on her side. “Are you ashamed of me?” she asked quietly.

 

Bas scowled at her. “Don't be ridiculous!”

 

She stared at him sadly. “Am I?”

 

“Yes,” he growled, raking his hands through his hair. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

 

A little sound escaped her—a choked sort of whimper. “I see.”

 

He made a face and heaved a sigh. “I . . . you . . . It's not . . . no Gunnar,” he blurted. “Not while he's . . . here.”

 

“This is about him? But—”

 

“Just not yet, Sydnie . . . go get dressed.”

 

She scowled at him. “Sebastian—”

 

He glared over his shoulder—a look meant to gain her compliance. “Move it, kitty,” he said, words gruff despite the gentleness in his tone as he tried not to notice that she wasn't making a single move to cover herself. He turned away and stood up, striding over to the window.

 

She snorted but scooted off the bed. He could hear the whisper of her movements. Moments later, he heard a dull crash from the adjacent living room of the hotel suite. Wheeling around, his gaze swept over the bed and stopped. In the jumble of tangled blankets, he spotted the towel. He snatched it up as he strode past into the hallway, uttering a string of muttered expletives as the irrational woman stomped into the bathroom and closed the door.

 

“Oh . . . kami . . .” Gunnar choked out behind him. Bas whipped around in time to see his cousin leaning heavily against the wall with a stunned look on his face and a shattered coffee mug at his feet. “I think I just had a wet dream . . .”

 

Bas shot across the room, catching Gunnar by the throat and smacking him hard against the wall. “I'll fucking kill you, Gunnar . . .”

 

Gunnar groaned then chuckled. “If you can't figure out what to do with her, I'll be happy to take her off your hands.”

 

“Damn you . . .” Bas growled, pulling Gunnar away from the wall and smashing him against it so hard that the wall trembled. “Keep your hands off her!”

 

“Did you see the way her ass moves when she walks? Holy damn!”

 

Bas slammed him into the wall once more. Gunnar grimaced when his head struck the doorframe. “I mean it, Gunnar . . .”

 

Gunnar groaned. “Want my advice?”

 

“No,” Bas snarled.

 

“You really need to fuck her.”

 

That comment didn't deserve a reply, as far as Bas was concerned. Slamming Gunnar against the wall one last time, he turned and heaved his cousin across the room. Gunnar fell over the back of the sofa, clutching his stomach as he laughed even harder and groaned intermittently. Balling his hands into fists and reminding himself that he really didn't want to kill Gunnar; Bas stomped off toward the bathroom, planting himself in front of the door, lest Sydnie should decide to come out in anything less than full coverage.

 

Gunnar's laughter taunted him, and Bas stifled a frustrated growl. Either way he looked at it, he was a damned man, no doubt about it. Between Gunnar, Sydnie, and the bounty hunters, he was positive that he was going to be dead before the dust settled . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

The hotel room was quiet—unnervingly so. They'd only traveled a few hours to reach Natchez, Mississippi, before stopping for the day. Gunnar hadn't been pleased with the delay, but Bas had grumbled about not having any clothes at all, not to mention that he was absolutely not putting himself in another situation like he had been in earlier while his idiot cousin was still traveling with them.

 

Gunnar crossed his arms over his chest and scowled thoughtfully at his cousin. Bas was mirroring his posture but seemed preoccupied as he peeked over his shoulder toward the bathroom.

 

Gunnar sighed. “It had to have something to do with that first fight: the one where you killed the kid . . .”

 

Bas grunted. “I thought that, too.”

 

“It's strange, though . . . in that sort of profession, death is a huge risk.”

 

“I know that.”

 

Gunnar shook his head. “Just a pup, you said?”

 

Bas nodded, dragging a hand over his face since they'd been over this a few times since Sydnie had announced that she was going to take a bath. Bas hadn't wanted to discuss anything in front of her. Gunnar had the distinct feeling that he was trying to protect her from the truth of the situation, not that he could blame her. He'd seen the panicked look on her face. It didn't surprise him at all that Bas would want to keep her from worrying any more than he had to. “Younger than me,” Bas grumbled. “No more than twenty-two or twenty-three . . . too young to be a bounty hunter.”

 

“Maybe . . . then again, the new Asian tai-youkai just turned twenty-two . . .”

 

Bas shrugged. “That's different. His father died, and he's been training all his life for it.”

 

“True enough, but that doesn't mean that he's not going to get a lot of grief.”

 

One of Bas' eyebrows lifted meaningfully. “Are the challenges being issued yet?”

 

Gunnar sighed. “Nope, but so far as Grandfather reckons, it won't take long before they do.”

 

“Sesshoumaru said that?”

 

“Sure he did . . . he was telling Dad that the youkai in China are grumbling despite Fai-sama's support from the generals.”

 

“He'll be fine. He's pretty tough,” Bas insisted.

 

Gunnar rubbed his forehead. “Yes, well, that's my point. He is tough despite his age. Maybe this bounty hunter was, too.”

 

“Not that tough,” Bas grumbled.

 

“Or maybe he just made the mistake of underestimating you.”

 

Bas snorted but didn't reply.

 

“What kind of youkai was he?” Gunnar asked.

 

Bas sighed. “A cougar.”

 

“Cougar,” Gunnar repeated thoughtfully. “Cougar . . .”

 

“Yes, a cougar.” He threw his hands up and shook his head in disgust. “It just doesn't make sense.”

 

Gunnar's amber gaze slowly lifted, brow furrowed as he pondered what he'd been told. It wasn't much, and not for the first time, Bas wished that he'd tried harder to get information out of the bounty hunters. Even then, he doubted that he'd have gotten anything substantial. Still . . .

 

Gunnar uttered a terse grunt.

 

“What?”

 

“Unless the boss thought very highly of the bounty hunter.”

 

“Well, that makes sense. He sent the pup on a mission, didn't he?”

 

Gunnar nodded slowly, sucking in his cheek as he considered Bas' words. “Maybe, but think about it: if you weren't Cain's son, do you think that he'd have sent you out on a hunt of any kind?”

 

“You make it sound like I'm useless,” Bas grumbled.

 

“Not useless, Bas, but not experienced at hunting, either.”

 

Bas had to admit that it made sense. Maybe the boss thought highly of the bounty hunter's skills because he knew him well, and more importantly . . . “So you think that this pup I killed was, what? Related to the boss or something?”

 

Gunnar narrowed his eyes and leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair, propping his forehead on his raised fingertips. “I'm not sure; it's all just supposition, but . . . there are two factions who could be handling the bounty at this point, and of those two factions, there is one—the Onyx—that we've tangled with before over the assassination of one of Grandfather's generals. The problem was that we never could find any concrete evidence; no paper trails, no witnesses . . . Anyway, I seem to recall that the leader of the Onyx is an old youkai named Christopher—an old cougar-youkai . . . You follow me?”

 

Bas sat up, digesting Gunnar's words. “I follow,” he agreed. “You think I killed this guy's . . . son?”

 

Gunnar shrugged and pushed himself to his feet, heading toward one of the two bedrooms in the hotel suite. “Let me look into it a little more: check my facts and all that.”

 

“All right . . . Gunnar?”

 

He stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. “What?”

 

“Don't tell Sydnie any of this—at least, not until we know for sure.”

 

“All right.” Gunnar sighed, draping his hands on his hips as he looked around the room. “Listen . . . you're feeling better, right?”

 

Bas nodded.

 

“I need to make a few calls, and if you don't want her overhearing anything . . . There's a mall a few blocks down. We passed it on the way here. You left all your clothes behind, right? Why don't you take Sydnie shopping?”

 

He made a face. The last thing he wanted to do was take the cat shopping. Those trips never, ever turned out well.

 

“Shopping?”

 

Bas turned in time to see Sydnie slip out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry as she wandered toward them. Dressed in the same black tank top and miniskirt she wore the first night he'd met her, she looked calm, relaxed . . . and very, very mischievous. “You want to go shopping?” Bas asked dubiously.

 

“Yes,” she agreed, slipping into the chair beside Bas.

 

“You hate shopping . . . you give me nothing but grief when I've taken you shopping,” he pointed out.

 

Sydnie giggled as she dug the hairbrush he'd bought her out of her purse. “That was before.”

 

“Before what?”

 

“Before I had money of my own.”

 

He frowned. “How did you get money, Sydnie?”

 

She paused as she dragged the brush through the length of her hair. “Some guy named . . . Evan . . . Was that right, Gunsie?”

 

Bas blinked. “Evan? As in, my brother, Evan?”

 

“Oh, is that your brother?”

 

Bas' incredulous gaze shifted from Sydnie to Gunnar as he slowly rose to his feet. “What the hell is she talking about, Gunsie?”

 

Gunnar shrugged offhandedly and turned around to face them.

 

“He paid four hundred dollars for a picture of me,” she went on, ignoring Bas' obvious irritation.

 

“He—what?”

 

“Well, he would have paid more, but that was all he had on him,” Gunnar added for good measure.

 

Bas erupted in a low growl as he shoved himself away from the table and strode toward his cousin. “What picture?”

 

“Oh, the one I took with your phone-thingy when you wouldn't come out of the bathroom,” Sydnie supplied.

 

“With my—” Bas cut himself off and turned on his heel, striding over to jerk his duster off the back of the sofa, digging for his cell phone. It didn't take him long to find the image of Sydnie, sprawled out by the foot of the bed in her tank top and g-string panties. “You fucking bastard!” Bas gnashed out, deleting the picture before tossing the phone onto the sofa and striding toward Gunnar with his hand out. “Give me your phone, damn you.”

 

Gunnar pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Bas jerked it away from him and made quick work of scrolling through his pictures and deleting the offending one. “Evan still has it,” Gunnar pointed out reasonably, “and the tai-youkai does, too.”

 

“What?”

 

Gunnar shrugged. “The tai-youkai needed a picture for her file—duh!”

 

Bas stifled a frustrated growl and slammed his fist into Gunnar's arm. “Why the hell would you do that?” he bellowed.

 

“Now, Bas—”

 

“Aren't you the one who is always telling me I ought to share?” Sydnie broke in, grasping Bas' forearm and tugging gently. “Besides, Gunsie-Wunsie wants to be my mate.”

 

That stopped Bas cold. Blinking in silence as Sydnie's claim sank in, Bas slowly shook his head. “. . . He . . . what?”

 

Sydnie smiled sweetly. “He asked me to be his mate,” she replied.

 

Bas rounded on his cousin again, cracking his fingers as he slowly, methodically, stalked toward him. “Dead, Gunnar,” he growled.

 

Gunnar retreated, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Now, Bas . . . you can't really blame me, can you? I said it before I knew that you wanted her to be yours . . . No harm, no foul, right?”

 

“Fucking dead.”

 

Sydnie ran around Bas, planting her hands in the center of his chest as she pressed herself against him. “You want me to be your mate?” she asked quietly.

 

Bas grimaced, fighting down the blush that flooded to the surface of his skin. “That's not—I didn't—I never said—Oh, hell!”

 

Her skin was flushed though her eyes were uncannily bright, and she stared at him without blinking as he tossed a scathing glower at his cousin and refused to meet Sydnie's gaze. “You're an odd puppy,” she mumbled, dropping her hands and turning away.

 

Bas heaved a sigh, narrowing his eyes on his cousin before catching her arm and gently pulling her back. “Come on, Sydnie. You need some new clothes, too.”

 

She shot him an inscrutable look but finally nodded. “Okay,” she agreed.

 

Bas shook his head as Sydnie wandered over to retrieve her purse from the table. Pausing long enough to grab his sword and pulling the duster on, he didn't glance at Gunnar again as he strode over and jerked open the door, waiting for Sydnie to pass.

 

He didn't miss Gunnar's soft chuckle as he pulled it closed.

 

 

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A/N:

 

Yes, yes, Purity 6 … There are 11 planned, and when I say planned, I mean planned… completely all plotted out in my head and ready to put down on paper. They're all independent stories in the Purity universe, and they're all very, very different from each other. I am really looking forward to writing them … Purity is something that I enjoy writing every day. I'm glad you enjoy the stories, too, and for those who are interested, there is a thread on the world of Purity on my fanfiction forum, but you have to be registered to see it.

Now on with Purity 5!

 

OHHHHH…

New Author Alert!!

http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/112356

Check her out!

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Reviewers

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MMorg

Lisa C ------ Dark Serenity ------ KeyTobias5 ------ Simonkal of Inuy ------ Rawben ------ NekoKamiFL ------ ColShaLin ------ Inuyoukaimama ------ OROsan0677 ------ inuyashaloverr ------ sweetsauve ------ futekioosha ------ Hitomeshy ------ InuyashaFreak-15 ------ Jesachi (feel free to send it to suericfanfictions(at)gmail.com - I'd love to see it!) ------ Pyro Amedaus

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Final Thought fromBas:

…Poking …?

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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~