InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Darkness Falls ( Chapter 31 )

~~Chapter 31~~

~Darkness Falls~

 

“Hello?”

 

“Got a minute?”

 

Bas stifled a yawn and rubbed away the lingering traces of sleep that blurred his vision. “Sure,” he replied, keeping his voice lowered, careful not to wake Sydnie just yet. “Something happen?”

 

Cain sighed. “Not really. Just wanted to touch base with you. Where are you, by the way?”

 

“Tennessee . . . Memphis.”

 

“You're making progress, then. Good. How's Sydnie?”

 

Unable to repress the little grin that broke over his features, Bas chuckled. “She's fine.”

 

“Any trace of the bounty hunters?”

 

“Nope, not yet. I don't doubt they're looking for us, but they haven't caught up yet.”

 

“And you're being careful?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Cain let out his breath in a heavy gust. “You'd damn well better be, Bas.”

 

Bas wrinkled his nose and shifted slightly, bending his knee and leaning his elbow on it. “I know, Dad. I'm not stupid.”

 

“Never thought you were,” Cain remarked mildly, ignoring the irritation inherent in Bas' tone. “Your mother wanted me to ask what the odds were that you'd be home for Christmas.”

 

“Slim to none,” Bas quipped amicably enough. Dragging a hand over his face, he grimaced when Sydnie turned her face, her purring no longer muffled by Bas' chest.

 

“Yeah, I didn't figure you would be . . . What's that?”

 

Bas cleared his throat. “What's what?”

 

“That sound . . . it sounds like a motor or something.”

 

“Oh, that,” Bas said slowly. “Yeah . . . that's just Sydnie.”

 

“That's . . .? She . . . purrs?”

 

Bas snorted. “She is a cat, you know.”

 

“Yeah, I know. I just didn't realize . . . Guess I should have, huh?”

 

“Gunnar hasn't found out anything else about the Onyx?”

 

“Nothing substantial, but he has a few leads—and don't think for a moment that I don't know you're changing the subject.”

 

Bas grinned ruefully and sighed. “Don't evade the master of evasion?”

 

“Something like that, yes. In any case, just remember that we need to clear her name before you do anything . . . permanent?”

 

“Yes, sir,” he promised with a grimace.

 

“I'll hold you to that,” Cain remarked mildly. “How are you doing, money-wise?”

 

“Not bad . . . could use a little more. Trading off cars all the time gets to be rather expensive.”

 

Cain grunted. “I'm sure,” he agreed. “Necessary expense, if you ask me. Find a place where you can stay put for a day or two, and I'll wire you more.”

 

“Okay,” Bas agreed. “I might have enough to get us to Chicago . . . not positive, though.”

 

“Why Chicago?”

 

Bas idly stroked Sydnie's back. She smiled in her sleep but didn't wake up. “Seems like as good a place as any to spend Christmas,” he hedged.

 

“You staying at the mansion?”

 

Bas scowled thoughtfully at the sleeping feline atop his chest. “I was hoping to, yes,” he admitted. “If I can convince Sydnie it's safe. Security's good there, and I think she'd like to spend a couple days in one place.”

 

“If she's been alone since she was three, as you've said, then she hasn't really had a Christmas, has she?”

 

Bas sighed. “That's what I was thinking; show her what a real holiday is, right? Let her forget about everything else, even if it is only for a couple of days.”

 

“You'll probably be safer at the mansion than you would be anywhere else,” Cain allowed, “but don't let your guard down, got it?”

 

“Yes, sir,” he replied. “Oh, hey . . . who won the game last night?”

 

Cain grunted. “The Patriots did by a safety . . . triple overtime; thought your mom was going to break my hand. You didn't see it?”

 

Bas sighed then grinned as a little blush crept over his skin. “No.”

 

“Ah, well you missed one hell of a game, then. Anyway, you'd better let me send you money sooner, unless you're not planning on buying her anything for Christmas?”

 

“You're right,” Bas said, wincing inwardly. “Guess that would be pretty bad.”

 

“Just a little,” Cain allowed with a soft chuckle. “All right, then. Keep me posted.”

 

Bas nodded. “Yes, sir.”

 

Snapping the device closed, he closed his eyes for a moment, content to hold Sydnie, to feel her heart beat in time with his before he woke her up so that they could get moving.

 

`A Christmas present, huh?' he mused.

 

His youkai sighed. `Yeah . . . too bad you have no idea what to buy a woman—and neither do I, so don't ask.'

 

`So I'll get someone else's help,' he decided.

 

`Oh, yeah? Who?'

 

`Who else? Bitty Belle . . .'

 

Bas yawned, wrapping his arms more securely around Sydnie's shoulders for a moment before kissing her forehead and carefully maneuvering her onto the mattress so that he could slip out of the bed without waking her. After making quick work of getting dressed, he paused long enough to fill a glass with the last of the milk before chucking the empty plastic carton into the trash can and setting the glass beside the bed before swiping up the cell phone and striding toward the bathroom.

 

Absently glad that he'd downloaded the contents of his regular cell phone's directory onto this unit before leaving Maine, he scrolled through the numbers until he found the one he wanted. Deciding that he wasn't going to wake her up, Bas dialed the number and waited for an answer.

 

“Moshi moshi.”

 

“Hey, Bitty. Got a minute?”

 

“Bastian!”

 

He grimaced at the shortened form of his name that his darling cousin-slash-niece insisted on using. “Just `Bas' is fine.”

 

“To what do I owe the honor of your impromptu phone call?” she asked, her alto voice smooth, silky, and she spoke in perfect English despite the hint of an accent inherent from her native Japanese upbringing.

 

He sighed. “I need some help.”

 

“And that's what I'm here for! Help with what, angel-face?”

 

Bas rolled his eyes. “I want to buy a Christmas present, and I don't know what to get.”

 

“Depends on who you're buying a present for.”

 

He grimaced. “A . . . girl.”

 

“Oh? Oh! Your little pussy cat? Sydnie? That's her name, right?”

 

“Yes,” he admitted, unable to keep his face from shooting up in flames at Isabelle's wording. “How do you know about her?”

 

“Oh, please! Gunnar sent me a picture of her. She's gorgeous!”

 

“Is there anyone he didn't send that damn picture to?”

 

“Well, I don't think he sent it to his grandparents, but Sierra might have . . . I'm pretty sure that everyone's seen her . . . Alexandra thinks that she's hot, too.”

 

“Oh, hell,” he grouched with a grimace since he knew that if Bitty showed her younger sister, Alexandra, then there was no way in hell that he was going to escape teasing from the well-intentioned, if not completely bothersome girls.

 

“It's not so bad, you know. She's beautiful. Have you slept with her yet?”

 

“The Christmas present, Isabelle,” he reminded her.

 

“All right; all right . . . you're pulling the shy act again; I get it.” Isabelle giggled. “Hmm . . . lingerie is always nice, and then you get to enjoy it, too!”

 

“Be serious, Bitty.”

 

“I am, Bastian.”

 

“Fine . . . anything else?”

 

“Let's see . . . there's the old standby: jewelry . . . Papa always gets Mama jewelry just before he says something entirely trite and somewhat droll about tolerating her . . .”

 

“Jewelry.”

 

“Yes. A pretty necklace or a nice little bracelet . . . even a pair of diamond stud earrings . . . or an engagement ring?”

 

Bas grimaced. “I don't know if that would be a good idea. She doesn't even want to admit that she's my mate yet.”

 

“Really? But you know it, right?”

 

He sighed. “Yeah, I know it.”

 

“Then that means that she knows it, too.”

 

“Sure,” he agreed, unable to keep the hint of frustration out of his tone. “She won't admit it, though.”

 

“You'll get her to admit it, Bastian. I have every faith in you.”

 

“Yeah, thanks . . . and Bitty?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Would you mind not telling anyone that I called you?”

 

“My lips are sealed.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Any time, darling.”

 

He chuckled as he clicked off the phone, thoughtfully tapping it against his chin. Isabelle, the oldest of his sister's children, was only a couple weeks younger than Bas, and because of the odd relation to her father, Kichiro, she was both Bas' niece as well as his cousin, and having grown up with two very open-minded parents, it wasn't surprising at all that Isabelle—Bitty Belle to most of the family since she was named after Belle's mother—was quite frank about sex, in general, and her propensity to state things so bluntly had always made Bas a little uncomfortable.

 

Though she tended to be closer to Gunnar, she'd always enjoyed needling Bas, trying to set him up on dates with friends of hers and basically asking more questions than Bas was willing to answer—all of them pertaining to sex in some way or another. When Bitty had found out about Bas' stripes, she'd pestered him all summer to let her see them. Bas winced, recalling just how much he'd hated his trip to Japan that year. Bitty had been sure that all of her friends would line up to see them, as if he were going to put himself up as a side-show freak or something . . . It had seemed to him that Bitty and Alexandra were more concerned about his lack of a sex life than he was . . .

 

Still, she was the best person to have asked about what to buy for Sydnie, and while jewelry seemed like a rather clichéd gift, Bas had to wonder if cliché might be the best course to take. After all, jewelry was absolutely useless, and Sydnie . . .

 

He broke into a little grin as memories of the night before invaded his mind. The things she'd done, she'd done for him, because she cared about him more than she wanted to admit, even to herself.

 

`Sydnie . . .' he decided with a soft sigh, `she deserves beautiful things—things as beautiful as she is.'

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

“Damn him!”

 

The crash of a crystal glass echoed through the silent office as it shattered against the wall, but the outburst of violence did little to dispel the anger that ran hot through his veins. Jeb clenched his fist and relaxed his grip a few times.

 

All four of his hunters had failed?

 

It was unfathomable; absolutely unbelievable. How could this hunter—this son of the tai-youkai—kill four of the best bounty hunters that Jeb had in his employ?

 

“Damn him!” he snarled again, his voice quiet despite the absolute vehemence in his tone.

 

There was no mistaking it, though. He knew it was true. Nearly a week had passed since he'd last heard from them. At the time, they'd located Zelig and the cat-youkai who had been targeted for termination and were following them. Glave had mentioned a third person—a hanyou, but whether the third had helped Zelig or not, Jeb wasn't certain. At any rate, too long a time had passed without word from any of his bounty hunters. One way or the other, Zelig had apparently eluded them again.

 

Pushing back the flap of his black jacket to stuff his hand into his pocket, Jeb yanked his tie loose with his free hand. The funeral had been a quiet affair. There hadn't been many in attendance since Serena had wanted it to be kept private. Though he'd expected that Beth would follow Cody in death, he had hoped until the end that he was wrong; that Beth would find the strength to live. She hadn't, and in the end, the blame for that rested squarely on Zelig's shoulders, too. Yes, he'd known that there was always a risk in sending out a bounty hunter, no matter how well-trained the hunter might be. Cody had been ready, and what was more, he had insisted on going.

 

“I can do it, Dad!” Cody insisted, eyes flashing with irritation at the perceived unfairness afforded him.

 

“It's not a question of what you can and cannot do, Cody,” Jeb explained quietly. “You're still an apprentice.”

 

“And I'll stay an apprentice so long as I'm working under Byrne,” Cody grumbled. “I'm sick of doing grunt work. I'm ready.”

 

Sitting back in his chair, Jeb narrowed his eyes on his son. Ready, perhaps, but he'd promised Serena that Cody wouldn't be in danger . . . Still, Jeb knew that he'd sent other, much less experienced bounty hunters out on jobs. Gaze shifting to the manila envelope lying on the desk, he nodded. The cat-youkai wouldn't be much trouble. If Cody could get to her without drawing the notice of the Zelig's hunter, she'd be easy pickings. It would be a pretty easy job, Jeb figured—the perfect first job.

 

“Cat-youkai believed to have killed Cal Richardson. Rumor has it she's on the move and in the company of one of the Zelig's hunters. He wants her brought in for questioning, but we've got a bounty on her. Find her and eliminate her.”

 

Cody nodded, light brown eyes igniting with a fierce determination. “Yes, sir,” he replied. “You won't be sorry, Dad . . .”

 

Jeb blinked away the lingering memory, an ironic smile that was devoid of humor illuminating his gaze. `I won't be sorry . . . That's right . . . not sorry in the least . . .'

 

“The hunters you called in are here.”

 

Jeb grunted in response, not bothering to look at his second-in-command. Myrna Loy bit her cheek, deep brown eyes awash with unspoken concerns. It wasn't her place to question Jeb's orders, but she couldn't help but wonder if Jeb wasn't taking things a little too far this time. Summoning the remaining hunters at his disposal . . . Myrna had to wonder about the sanity of Jeb's situation . . . She stifled a sigh, smoothing the sleek black leather jacket she always wore over the slim lines of her lanky frame.

 

“Send them in,” Jeb said quietly.

 

Myrna nodded and turned away to fetch the hunters. “Right away.”

 

“Myrna.”

 

She stopped and slowly pivoted to face her boss once more, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for whatever it was Jeb wanted to say.

 

“The son of the tai-youkai . . . what do you know about him?”

 

Myrna sighed. “The Zelig's heir, you mean? He has two sons, I've heard . . .”

 

“Two sons . . . the eldest—the one that looks like the Zelig. He's the hunter: the one with the cat.”

 

“There's not much to know, I suppose. The Zelig keeps things quiet, but I remember something I heard about the time he took his mate. She's the daughter of the hanyou of legend, or so they say.”

 

“The hanyou of legend? InuYasha . . .”

 

Myrna tilted her head to the side as she tried to discern just what Jeb was thinking. “Which would mean that there are ties to the Inu no Taisho, as well.”

 

“Sesshoumaru,” he muttered, jaws bulging with the force with which he gritted his teeth. “Damn the Zelig . . . there's too fucking much power in that one family.”

 

“The son—Sebastian—he's the one who killed Cody?”

 

Jeb's head snapped to the side, his glower dark, menacing. “Sebastian Zelig . . . the next tai-youkai . . .”

 

“Jeb . . . Cody knew the risks . . .”

 

“Cody knew that the job should have been simple,” Jeb shot back. “Cody knew that I told him that it was a simple task—nothing more than offing the cat who'd killed Cal Richardson.”

 

“Tangling with the tai-youkai isn't a wise thing to do.”

 

He tossed his head proudly. “Neither is tangling with me.”

 

Myrna nodded. Arguing with Jeb Christopher was futile, and she knew it. He'd never admit to being wrong, especially on this; not when Sebastian Zelig had cost Jeb not only his son, but his daughter-in-law and their unborn child. Vengeance wasn't a simple thing, and in the end, maybe it was easier to be angry than it was to try to pick up the pieces and move on.

 

“Send in my hunters,” Jeb ordered.

 

Myrna nodded again, turning on her heel and exiting the office in a series of crisp steps, heels echoing in the dimly lit corridor of the hallway.

 

`Eight hunters,' she thought wryly, her discerning gaze flicking coolly from one hunter to the next: Byrne Bine—rattlesnake-youkai . . . Cavalle Cade—poison-youkai . . . Dren Morgan—eagle-youkai . . . Brenna Cruz—fire-based-youkai . . .Vince Thetwhile—spider-youkai . . . Datte Voight—kitsune . . . Keith Frem—bobcat-youkai . . . Trent Smith—chameleon-youkai . . . they stood up, one by one, rising from the cold metal chairs arranged in the office foyer. Myrna remained stoic as they passed. `How many of these hunters will make it back this time?'

 

No, there wasn't a doubt in Myrna's mind that the hunters would be able to capture Zelig this time. Sheer numbers were on their side, and yet . . .

 

And yet sheer numbers had been defeated the last time. The failure of the four hunters that Jeb had last sent hadn't even seemed like a possibility . . .

 

`Stop that, Myrna!' she told herself sternly. `No matter what, Sebastian Zelig is not a god . . . Even the son of the tai-youkai isn't invincible, and even the mighty have to fall . . .'

 

Eight against one . . .

 

She sighed again, wishing she could shake the feeling that the entire thing was nothing but a huge mistake.

 

Eight against one . . . those were good odds . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Sydnie emerged from the bathroom with a cloud of steam and a waft of moist air, toweling her hair dry and humming a song under her breath.

 

Bas was propped up on the bed, one knee bent with his other leg stretched out as he scowled at the new almanac he'd purchased when they'd stopped at a gas station after crossing the boarder between Kentucky and Illinois. Tapping an ink pen against the paper, he seemed lost in thought. Sydnie grinned to herself, spreading the towel over the back of a metal chair at the rickety old table before digging the hairbrush out of her purse.

 

To her surprise, Bas hadn't done more than smile at her when she'd asked if they could stop early for the day. More out of habit than because she really expected him to comply, she'd asked while expecting him to grumble at her; to come up with excuse after excuse to keep moving. She sighed as a little grin surfaced. Sure, she understood why he felt the need to keep going. Afraid that the bounty hunters were lurking just out of view, he did the only thing he could do: stay on the move in the tireless game of cat and mouse . . .

 

`Sebastian is in danger . . . because of me . . .'

 

The bubble of contentment that had carried her through the day burst like an over-inflated balloon. Stealing a surreptitious glance over her shoulder, she carefully brushed the snarls out of her hair while eyeing Bas' relaxed pose. A surge of irrational panic swept through her. The fear that something would happen to him precluded rational thought. He was precious to her, necessary to her . . . Somehow, in the space of a few weeks . . . She shivered.

 

`He's the one, Sydnie. He's your . . . mate.'

 

Wincing at the words of her youkai blood's voice, Sydnie shook her head, trying desperately, pathetically, to refute the truth. `He . . . no . . . I can't . . . he can't . . .'

 

`You can, and he does. Is that really so terrible?'

 

Sydnie swallowed a suspect lump that choked her, blinked to alleviate the sting behind her eyes. `But . . . I'm going to die, in the end. I killed someone, didn't I, even if he deserved what he got?'

 

`Sebastian wants you to trust him. He could help, couldn't he? If his father really is Cain Zelig—'

 

`That's not even a question. He is the tai-youkai's son . . . and even if he could help me, he won't be able to; not in the end . . .'

 

Her youkai sighed. `It's too late for that, you know. His youkai blood has already acknowledged you. There's really nothing left you can do about it, and deep down, you know I'm right.'

 

`Why worry about it now? Can't I just enjoy what we have? Can't I just let that be enough?'

 

`But it isn't enough, Sydnie. It's not something that'll just go away.'

 

`No, I didn't suppose it would.'

 

`In any case, Sebastian is a good man. Would it be so bad to let him know you think that?'

 

`Yes . . .' she allowed then wrinkled her nose, replacing the brush and rubbing her forearms with her bare hands, `and no.'

 

Pushing away the nagging doubts, Sydnie shuffled toward the bed. Bas didn't look up when she crawled between his legs, nor did he notice when she cuddled against his chest. Wiggling around to make herself more comfortable, she rolled over onto her back, her eyes darting back and forth as she watched the end of the pen thump against the paper. Before she could think about it, she batted at it. Bas chuckled softly, kissing Sydnie's forehead as the pen stopped moving so that she could unhook the tips of her claws from the cap. “Hey, kitty. Have a nice bath?”

 

“I suppose,” she allowed. “I was hoping you'd come in and wash my back.”

 

She wasn't surprised to see him blush. He dropped the almanac on the coverlet beside him, wrapping his arms around Sydnie's shoulders. “I was planning our route,” he told her.

 

“Route? You mean we have an actual destination in mind?”

 

“Sure,” he agreed, bending his other leg and causing Sydnie to slip between them. She gripped his shoulders and leaned up to kiss him. His lips were warm, moist, soothing, scattering the unpleasant thoughts that had plagued her mind with a gentleness that she could barely credit. His fingers stroked her back; he bent his body to shelter her, lending her a sense of security that she so desperately needed. She reveled in him, lost in the tenderness that he freely offered. The soft hesitation in his kisses—his unspoken fear that he would somehow disappoint her . . . Sydnie twined her fingers into his hair, holding him close, unwilling, unable to let him go.

 

Deepening his kisses, alternating between the sweetest caress of his lips and the teasing nibbles of his teeth, of his fangs that sent shivers up Sydnie's spine as she tightened her fists around handfuls of hair, Bas shifted, lowering Sydnie onto the mattress and leaning over her, tossing his leg over her as though to keep her from bolting. `I wouldn't,' she thought wildly. Too inviting to ignore, the feelings that swelled within her . . . the ferocious tide of a more primitive need . . . she wanted him, needed him, craved him . . .

 

The flimsy tie holding her robe closed worked itself loose as she writhed against him. Unable to repress the burgeoning need to feel his body against hers, she arched her back, tugged on his shoulders, kissed him with all the desperation that she felt inside. Gasping as her overheated skin touched the smoldering flesh of Bas' bare chest, she uttered a harsh little mew. His gruff growl came in reply. She could feel her nipples contracting, her skin breaking out in a rash of goose bumps. His hand trailed the curve of her body, resting on her hip, squeezing, kneading, unleashing a wave of consuming fire that fanned outward only to converge again in the depths of her belly, in an ache that spiraled through her body.

 

He leaned away, his breathing harsh in the silence. Gazing down at her with a fierce intensity, he swallowed hard as he kissed her forehead. “God, Sydnie . . .”

 

She bit her lip and sighed. “Don't stop, Sebastian,” she whispered, searching his face for any trace of what he was thinking.

 

“Sebastian . . .?” he echoed, his brows drawing together in a slight frown. “I need to tell you who I am . . . You . . . you deserve to know.”

 

A surge of panic ripped through her. Sydnie shook her head. “I already know,” she admitted, unable to bring herself to hear him say it. “I know who you are,” she repeated. “Don't say it.”

 

He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “I'm sorry, baby . . . My father—”

 

“Your father is Cain Zelig,” she bit out, placing her fingers over his lips to silence him. “I told you I know, Bas the Hunter . . . Sebastian . . . Zelig.”

 

He blinked in surprise, his face contorting just a little as he scowled at her. “You . . . know . . .”

 

She nodded. “I know. Can we just leave it alone? Please?”

 

“And you're okay with it?”

 

She sighed. “No . . . but I'm okay with you.”

 

He stared at her for a long moment, as though he were trying to decide if she was lying to him. “Good,” he finally said, a thin little smile dispelling his scowl as his gaze brightened in palpable relief. “I thought you'd . . .” he trailed off, shaking his head quickly. “It doesn't matter what I thought . . . I just wanted you to know.”

 

Sydnie ran her hand down the center of his chest and smiled when his entire body trembled. “I want you to—damn it!”

 

Bas' eyes widened as Sydnie pushed him aside and sat up, face scrunching up as a disgusted scowl twisted her features. “What's wrong?” he asked a little reluctantly, leaning up on his elbow and hooking her chin with his index finger, forcing her to look at him.

 

“I left that box of condoms at the hotel,” she pouted.

 

Bas digested her complaint, cheeks pinking as he let his hand drop away. “Oh,” he replied, swinging his legs off the bed and slowly getting to his feet. “I, uh . . . picked them up. They're in the suitcase.”

 

Sydnie sat up, tucking her legs under her as she leaned forward to watch Bas. He unzipped the side compartment—one Sydnie hadn't checked—and pulled out the condoms. She couldn't help the little grin that spread over her face, but just as suddenly as the expression surfaced, it dissipated again, and she bit her lip as he tossed the box onto the nightstand and sank down on the bed beside her. “Sydnie? Something wrong?”

 

She shot him an almost fearful glance and tried to smile. His worried frown deepened, and she knew that her effort to fool him had failed. “I . . . Do you think it's true? That it hurts the first time?”

 

Bas sat still for a moment then leaned back, eyes widening in alarm. “What do you mean? You've never . . .? You haven't . . .?”

 

She shook her head, her gaze dropping to the coverlet, and she shrugged. “Is that a problem?”

 

He snorted. “No! I just didn't think . . . I mean, I thought you'd . . . Oh, hell, I thought you had, damn it!”

 

She shot him a sidelong glance. He was glowering in the direction of the window; not angrily, exactly, as much as deep in thought. He slowly shook his head, shifting his gaze around the room, and suddenly he shot to his feet, snatching the box off the nightstand and striding back to the suitcase where he grabbed the first things he laid hands on—a short taupe suede dress—and tossed it in her general direction before snatching a white t-shirt and jerking it over his head. “Get dressed, Sydnie,” he ordered, plopping into a chair as he tugged on a pair of socks and his boots.

 

“What?” she demanded, staring at the dress in disbelief but not reaching for it. “Sebastian—”

 

“Come on. It won't take long. Just get moving, will you?”

 

“But—”

 

“We're not staying here,” he reiterated. “Let's go.”

 

Sydnie snapped her mouth closed on the retort that was forming on the tip of her tongue. Narrowing her eyes and grabbed the dress, she discarded the robe and stuck her feet into the dress before standing up stiffly and pulling it over her shoulders. “Fine,” she bit out, giving the zipper a vicious yank. Pausing long enough to slip on her stilettos, she snatched up her purse and stalked out the door without waiting to see if Bas was following or not.

 

 

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

A/N:

Moshimoshi: standard Japanese telephone greeting.

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Final Thought fromBas:

She knows …

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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~