InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ The Moon and New York City ( Chapter 44 )

~~Chapter 44~~

~The Moon and New York City~

 

Bas set the suitcase in the middle of the huge bed that encompassed almost the entire wall of the room and nearly half the floor, as well. The dark green hues of the room reflected Bas' affinity for the color. It couldn't be helped, he figured absently. Pine green was his ceremonial color, after all, and while his mother had fussed and maintained that the color was just too dark to be healthy, she had given in and had decorated all of Bas' bedrooms in the deep shade, and his bedroom in the Zelig townhouse was no different . . .

 

Sydnie paced the room distractedly though it was impossible to tell whether her distraction stemmed from the idea of being in New York City or because they were once more in what she perceived to be `enemy territory'.

 

He hadn't gotten any answers out of her today, either. In fact, aside from a certain level of preoccupation, she had seemed to be back in complete control of her faculties once more. He couldn't figure her out. Surely one nightmare couldn't have been responsible for her uncharacteristically afraid behavior the night before . . .

 

He sighed. Sure, it could. He knew that those dreams bothered her, and rightfully so. It couldn't be easy, reliving those last few hours of her sister's life over and over again. Taunted with the knowledge that she hadn't been able to do a thing to save Kit, just what had that done to Sydnie's psyche over the time and space of years?

 

Still, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that Sydnie was hiding something from him. It didn't matter whether or not he had a solid reason to back his intuition. She said that she was fine, after all. There had to be more to it, though, and as Bas turned his head to steal a glance at her only to find her standing off to the left of the window, leaning to the side enough to peer outside while obviously not wishing to be spotted from the other side, he couldn't help the trill of uncertainty that raced up his spine and back down once more.

 

“Suppose you tell me what's wrong?” he drawled, turning away from the bed and crossing his arms over his chest as he schooled his features to hide the reluctance that warred in his mind.

 

Sydnie jumped slightly and whipped around to face him. “What's that?”

 

“Sydnie . . .”

 

“I'm fine,” she assured him, flashing him a nervous sort of smile. Bas grimaced, slowly wandering over to her and slipping his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. Her whole body was tense, stiff, and she shot him a cursory glance before uttering a soft little sound—a quiet sort of whimper that cut him to the quick.

 

“You can tell me anything you want,” he told her. “You know that, right?”

 

“I know,” she agreed, wrapping her hands over his arms and leaning against him.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

She nodded. “Of course I am.”

 

“Then are you going to tell me what's on your mind?”

 

She shrugged and leaned forward to get a better look at the world outside. “You're imagining things, Sebastian. There's nothing on my mind—except that I think I'd like a bath.”

 

He sighed. “A bath.”

 

She gave an emphatic nod. “Yes, a bath.”

 

Bas relented with another loud sigh designed to let her know that he was letting her have her way, at least for the moment, giving her a quick squeeze before letting his arms drop and stepping back from her. “Want some milk, kitty?”

 

She smiled. “I don't need it,” she drawled.

 

Bas snorted. “I know you don't, but I'd be happy to get you some.”

 

She strolled over to her and slipped her arms around his waist, giving him a tight little squeeze before kissing his cheek. “Thank you, puppy. I think I'd like that.”

 

“Good,” he assured her, kissing the tip of her nose, unable to resist the smile that surfaced. “Go start your bath while I get your milk, baby.”

 

She nodded and let go of him, sauntering over to the suitcase to retrieve a change of clothes. Pausing in the doorway, she winked at him before slipping into the adjacent bathroom and closing the door behind herself.

 

Bas' smile faded as he turned toward the doorway. He'd just have to keep an eye on her, he supposed, and that wasn't really a problem, after all. He loved to keep his eyes on her, didn't he?

 

`It really isn't as simple as that, Bas . . . For as much as you trust her, you know she really could slip through your fingers if you aren't careful. If you let your guard down, she could easily do just that. Remember, will you? She's damn good at slipping away and blending into the shadows. She's done it for years, hasn't she?'

 

Bas made a face as he ran down the flight of stairs to the main level of the townhouse. `She trusts me. She won't do something stupid enough to put herself in jeopardy.'

 

`Won't she? Were you listening to what she was trying to tell you the other night? Yeah, so she stung your pride, asking you to be the one to kill her, and in your heart you know you couldn't do it, even for her, but the thing is, why did she ask that of you; of us? If she didn't really still believe that she was going to die, why the hell would she ever ask such a stupid thing?'

 

`Why else? To be morbid.'

 

`Morbid? You don't really think—'

 

`You're right,' he cut off his youkai voice, slamming a glass onto the counter and striding over to get the gallon of milk he's bought before reaching the townhouse. `I don't know what to think. Sydnie knows, damn it! I've told her! I have showed her! If something were to happen to her, she knows . . .'

 

`And does it really matter what she knows if she thinks she's protecting you, in the end?'

 

`Protecting me? From what?'

 

`I don't know, but . . .'

 

Bas sighed, dumping milk into the glass and stowing the carton back in the refrigerator before glowering at the frothy white liquid. `But what, damn it?'

 

`But . . . unless she thinks that the truth is worse than what she's already told you . . .'

 

Gritting his teeth, Bas snatched the glass off the counter. Milk sloshed out of the glass, spilling over his fingers, running down his arm only to drip off his elbow, landing on the slate floor with a dull, well `plop'. Seconds later, the glass shattered in his hand, and he winced as stabbing pain erupted in his palm. Broken glass smashed on the floor, and Bas blinked, raising his injured hand before his face as he watched his blood pool in his palm, following the trail of milk down his arm with a macabre sort of fascination. `Worse . . .? What could possibly be worse . . .?'

 

He barked out a terse laugh as he bumped the faucet handle with his forearm and stuck his hand under the tap, hissing sharply as the flow of water stung the lacerations. Using his claws to gingerly pick the shards from his hand, he grimaced, opening and closing his fist a few times to make certain that he hadn't cut any tendons. Blood spurted from the wounds, and he sighed.

 

`Get control over your emotions, Bas. It won't do any good to lose your cool now.'

 

`Right,' he mused, shaking his head slightly. `Lose my cool . . .'

 

`Sydnie needs you now, you know. If you want to keep her—if you really want to keep her . . .'

 

Bas nodded, wrapping one of his mother's pristine white kitchen towels around his hand. `I know.'

 

The trouble was that Sydnie had a tendency to retreat within herself if he pushed too much. Too stubborn, too proud . . . she'd rather delude herself into thinking that she really could take care of everything alone, and nothing he could say or do ever seemed to get through to her.

 

Bas cleaned up the mess and refilled another glass, taking care to control his irritation this time so that he didn't end up with another cut hand for his troubles.

 

He had to get her to talk to him. He had to make her understand that whatever it was that was bothering her, he wanted to help her. He had to. She was his mate, his world, his life . . .

 

`Make her understand that, Bas.'

 

`You think I'm not trying to do that?'

 

`No, you're trying, but you know, you let her get away with her habit of secreting herself away from you, don't you? You let her do that, and you can't . . .'

 

Bas sighed as he started up the stairs once more, his expression hardening as grim determination settled over him. His youkai blood was right. He had to get her to understand that she just couldn't take chances anymore. It wasn't simply about her: it was about him, too . . .

 

“All right, kitty,” he mumbled as he strode into the bedroom once more. “It's time . . .”

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Sydnie slipped in and out of the shadows in the wake of the darkly clad figure ahead of her. It had been pure luck that she'd found him. His number wasn't listed in the phone book, and she hadn't been able to find him during the hasty online search she'd done, either. No, she'd happened to see his picture in the newspaper that was lying on the desk near Bas' laptop computer. The accompanying article had said that he would be attending a charity function in Manhattan tonight, even going as far as giving the address of the hotel where the soiree was to be given. Piece of cake, wasn't it?

 

She'd waited outside until he'd emerged. Apparently showing up only long enough to make an appearance, he'd stepped back outside quickly enough, and alone, too, thank God. `A charity function? Isn't that ironic,' she'd thought as she memorized his stench, as she stared at the license plate number on the back of the sleek black Mercedes Benz that the valet delivered without a scratch.

 

Following him home had been the easy part. While she'd stood outside on the cold cement slab of a porch pondering just what she would do, she had memorized his scent. It wasn't so difficult to do. The bastard reeked, and his stench was startlingly familiar, bringing to mind a time and a place that she would just as soon forget.

 

A shuffling sound, a scrape from within, caught her attention, and she'd darted off the porch into the deep shadows of the bushes that lined the path. He reemerged from the house, pressing his fingertips to the touchpad to lock the door behind himself. Jogging lightly down the steps, he adjusted the neck of his pristine white dress shirt though he'd abandoned the dinner jacket and tie in favor of a hopelessly stuffy tan trench coat-style wool jacket. He buttoned one of the middle buttons as he strode along the sidewalk. Sydnie slipped out of the shadows, trailing after him as he meandered through the streets of the city. It was longer than she'd wanted to be gone, but she couldn't leave; not until she'd done what she'd come to do . . .

 

`If you're gone too long, Bas is going to wake up and realize you're not there.'

 

Sydnie grimaced and bit her lip but didn't falter as she trailed behind the youkai. `It won't take much longer.'

 

`Think about it, Syd . . . he's going to be furious when he realizes what you've done.'

 

`I have to do this,' she argued stubbornly. `I have to . . . Sebastian . . . he'll understand . . .'

 

`That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it. You deliberately fucked him, just so you could slip away. You did everything in your power to make sure that the man was sleeping like the dead before you left.'

 

She scowled, slowing her pace as her target disappeared inside a small shop. True enough, she had emerged from her bath, had walked out naked knowing that it was something that Bas wouldn't be able to ignore, and he hadn't. He'd fallen asleep right afterward, and she . . . she'd spared a moment to kiss him gently before donning her clothes and slipping out into the night . . . `That's not exactly what I did,' she insisted. `I only . . . I wanted . . . just one last time . . .'

 

`Be reasonable, can't you? If you go through with this—'

 

`If I go through with this, then it's the end; I know. I'm not stupid . . . but Kit . . . the men responsible for her death shouldn't be allowed to live, should they? This is what I came to do. It's my task . . . it's my responsibility.'

 

`Bas was right, Sydnie. It never was meant to be your responsibility. So no one listened to you back then, and yeah, that really, really sucked, but you know, you have Bas now, and he listens . . . Bas believes you . . . he's always believed you.'

 

Sadly, so sadly, she shook her head, rubbing her forearms against the cold night air. In her haste to slip out unnoticed, she'd forgotten her coat, which was just as well. She needed the freedom of movement for what she was about to do. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, the image of Bas' face flickered to life. He was smiling at her in that shy way of his, and she dug her claws into her arms as the first waver in her resolve dug into her heart. `But I've come too far to back out now . . . haven't I? In for a penny, in for a pound, right?'

 

`Can't you let Bas take care of this? Don't you think he would? You told him the story; you saw his reaction. He was appalled . . . and disgusted . . . and do you really think he'd let a scum like him get away with what he and Cal Richardson did?'

 

`It's not that simple,' she argued.

 

`It could be.'

 

`It can't, and you know it, or did you forget who this man is?'

 

`I didn't forget, no . . . but you've said you trust Bas—were you lying?'

 

`I trust Sebastian,' she insisted hotly. `I trust him with my life . . . but I don't trust his father. I can't trust his father—Cain Zelig, the great and powerful tai-youkai . . . He'll never believe me, and in the end . . .'

 

`Didn't you hear a thing that Bas was telling you? You don't have to be mates to be mates in your hearts. Bas has filled all those empty places inside you, hasn't he? Let him fix this for you . . . or do you really want to destroy him, too?'

 

Sydnie didn't answer. The man stepped out of the store, heading toward her with a newspaper tucked under his arm. She shrank back into the shadows once more until he passed her before slipping into the ever-moving crowd of pedestrians as she followed him back to his home.

 

There was a certain irony in it all, wasn't there? They'd killed Kit in the building that she called home. Cal Richardson and now this man . . . maybe he would come to understand what it was like, to fear the very place where he should have felt the safest . . . or maybe he just wouldn't care. If he cared, he wouldn't have done what he'd done to Kit so many years ago, would he? But Sydnie cared—she cared too much—and maybe that was the biggest irony of them all . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Bas yawned and rolled onto his side as he tried to hold on to the last remnants of sleep that dissipated faster than he could stop them. The nagging feeling that something wasn't right, however, grew stronger in his head, and when he finally opened his eyes, he scowled when he realized just what that was likely to be.

 

Sydnie was gone.

 

Sparing a moment to glance at the clock, Bas growled in abject irritation. Just after midnight . . . where the hell was she?

 

Tossing back the covers, he grabbed his jeans off the floor and jerked them on, muttering harsh maledictions as he groped for his shirt and tugged that on, too. The air in the townhouse felt stagnant, stale, and he didn't even try to delude himself into thinking that she was still there.

 

`Damn it . . .'

 

He had no idea when she'd slipped away, no idea how long she'd been gone. Bas growled low in his throat and pulled on his boots. He must have fallen asleep shortly after making love to Sydnie, and that had been a few hours ago . . .

 

`Why does she do these insane things right after we make love? Asinine questions . . . this disappearing act . . . holy hell, where did she go?' he fumed as he smacked open the bathroom door, knowing she wasn't there but checking just the same. He repeated the process at every door that lined the hallway, and by the time he hit the stairs, he'd surpassed `irritated' and was well on his way to `beyond the realm of reason'-angry.

 

Grabbing Triumvirate from the hooks above the dormant fireplace, Bas spared a moment to strap the weapon around his lean hips before snatching his duster off the back of the sofa and striding toward the door.

 

So preoccupied in his mutinous thoughts, he didn't stop to let the familiar aura register in his mind as he reached for the knob then jerked his hand back as the door swung open; as Sydnie blinked and stared up at him, an inscrutable sort of confusion in her gaze. Skin pale, peaked, eyes huge, she didn't seem to recognize him for a moment, and she shook her head slowly, in an almost frightened sort of way. Her crystalline eyes roamed over her features as she struggled to find a semblance of recognition. With a strangled sort of sob, she threw herself against his chest, her breathing harsh and grasping as she trembled in his arms, quaked beneath his touch, and all traces of Bas' irritation melted in the face of her obvious fear.

 

Bas cupped her cheeks in his hands and leaned away to frown at her. “Sydnie? Baby? What happened? Where'd you go? God, I was so worried . . . don't you ever disappear on me like that again; do you hear me?”

 

Sydnie shook her head miserably, tears welling in her still-frightened gaze though they didn't spill over. “H-hold me, Sebastian?” she whispered. “Just hold me?”

 

Bas crushed her against his chest, complying with her wishes as he struggled to make sense of her upset. Breathing deep, he couldn't discern any foreign scents on her, and the relief that washed through him was hard to ignore. “Baby, what happened?” he demanded gently.

 

She shook her head again, her heart hammering so hard that Bas could feel it. He grimaced, slowly rubbing her back, stroking her hair. “I can't do it . . . couldn't do it . . . I went there . . . I found him . . . I couldn't do it; I couldn't do it . . .”

 

“Couldn't do it?” Bas echoed, bending down to catch Sydnie's knees, carrying her over to the sofa and settling there with her, cradling her against his shoulder as though she were little more than a child. “Sydnie . . .”

 

“Damn it, he should die! He shouldn't be allowed to live, right? He killed her—my sister! He killed her, and he didn't even care!” she railed, smashing her fists against Bas' chest. He let her temper have sway, realizing on a purely instinctive level that her anger was too much for her to bear. Hating that she couldn't do the one thing that she felt was her responsibility, battling the recriminations that gnawed at her soul and wouldn't let go . . . Bas sighed softly, let her have her tantrum as he waited for it to pass, too.

 

“He's here in the city, right? Tell me his name.”

 

She didn't act like she heard him. Using her fists to push feebly at his shoulders, she held herself still for a moment before collapsing against him as though she'd spent all of her emotion. “He killed her; he killed her . . . he killed her . . .”

 

Bas smoothed her hair, kissed her forehead, grateful for the reprieve—she hadn't been able to do it, but worried nonetheless at the very idea of giving up the name to him. “Give me his name, kitty . . . just tell me his name.”

 

“You won't believe me if I tell you,” she admitted, shaking her head as her scared eyes flickered over his face. “No one will . . . he won't—your father . . . he'll never, ever believe me . . .”

 

“I'll believe you, baby! I promise you that I will! Can't you tell me? Just tell me? Trust me? Please?”

 

“I . . . I trust you,” she whispered. “But—”

 

Bas shook his head, held her close. “No `buts', Sydnie . . . you have to trust me. If you'd done it—if you had killed him . . .”

 

“I know,” she bit out tersely. “I know.”

 

“Sydnie—”

 

“He won't believe me! I know it, and then he'll get away with it! He'll get away with what he did to her!”

 

“My father will believe you, Sydnie, because he believes me! Damn it, can't you have a little faith just this once?” he begged.

 

Sydnie squeezed her eyes closed, buried her face against his shoulder. “He's too important,” she mumbled as her youki spiked with a harsh surge of pain; pain that gripped her; something far worse than any physical thing. It was cruel, it was excruciating, and it was something fabricated entirely in the prison of her mind.

 

“There's no one more important to me than you!” Bas argued fiercely.

 

“No . . . no, no, no, no!”

 

He gripped her shoulders, forced her back to make her look at him. The desperation in his heart enveloped his mind, and in that instant, he knew. If he didn't get the name from her now, she'd never tell him, would she? She'd kept the secret far too long, and it was consuming her. In the end, it would destroy her, whether she killed the man or not. `No!' he thought fiercely, willing her to see the determination in his gaze, `she'll tell me . . . she has to . . . she must!' She tried to look away from him. He shook her gently but firmly. “I need the name, Sydnie, please! My father—no, not him; his office . . . The tai-youkai . . . failed you once . . . I don't want to fail you now!”

 

She bit her lip, scowled through the wash of tears heavy in her eyes. Bas clenched his jaw; glared at her, daring her to lie. “I . . .”

 

“The. Name.”

 

“What'll you do with it, Sebastian? What'll you do with his name?”

 

The directness of her question startled him. Her gaze was shocking, bright despite the moisture that spiked her eyelashes. His hold on her loosened though he didn't let go, and he shook his head as he heaved a sigh and licked his lips. “What do you think I'll do? I'll make sure he can't hurt anyone else, ever again. Let me fix this, baby. Let me fix it for you—for your sister.”

 

She stared at him, her eyes full of sadness, her aura tinged with a pain so acute that it stung him deep down. “I'm just a nobody, Bas the Hunter . . . and so was Kit.”

 

“That's not true, Sydnie. You're everything to me . . . trust me in this, can't you?”

 

She swallowed hard, her gaze skittering away to the side, scowling as she warred with the past that was entirely too real in her mind. “What if I told you it was your father?” she challenged, her anger resurging as her head snapped back to face him once more.

 

“Damn it, Sydnie! My father wouldn't—”

 

“It might as well be him!” she spat.

 

Bas flinched, but stubbornly shook his head. “Fuck the riddles, cat! I want an answer! I deserve an answer!”

 

“He's a general!” she yelled, reacting to his anger in kind.

 

Bas stopped dead and blinked, his mind freezing with the information that she'd blurted. “Wh-wh-what?”

 

She winced and stumbled to her feet, backing away from Bas with her hands wrapped around herself in a purely protective sort of way. “You don't believe me, do you? I knew . . . I knew . . .”

 

Bas shot to his feet, prowling the length of the living room once—twice. “Which one?” he rasped out, swinging around to face her. “Which—” He trailed off, eyes flaring wide as understanding dawned. Aside from Ben Philips, Cain's most trusted general, there was only one other who lived in New York City; divided his time between his office in Montreal and his residence in New York City . . . Bas gripped his forehead, rubbing furiously. “Jared Brantley . . . It's him, isn't it?” he demanded quietly.

 

Sydnie's choked sob was muffled by the back of her hand, and Bas didn't have to look at her to know that he'd just gotten he name he'd been after. Without a word, he strode into the kitchen, filling a glass of milk for her before returning to the living room and pulling her into his lap. “I have to call him: I have to call Dad.”

 

She looked like she wanted to argue with him, but in the end, she just nodded as he slipped the glass into her hands. He steadied it carefully, kissing her forehead as he closed his eyes for a moment and cleared his throat. “Drink your milk, kitty. I believe you . . . I believe you.”

 

His words seemed to calm her, and she slowly stopped shaking. Drinking her milk slowly, sniffled quietly and nestled closer to his chest. Bas kissed her forehead before scooping her up and carrying her to the bedroom. “Stay here, baby. I'll be back as soon as I call Dad.”

 

She looked like she wanted to argue, but in the end, she nodded, draining the milk glass and handing it back to him before curling up in a tiny ball in the center of the bed. He spared a moment to kiss her cheek, forcing a tiny smile for her benefit before striding out of the room and back down the stairs, grabbing his cell phone before heading into the kitchen to refill the glass for Sydnie.

 

The grandfather clock in the living room chimed one, and Bas grimaced as the phone rang.

 

“Bas? Something wrong?” Cain's sleep-bleary voice answered.

 

Bas sighed. “I got the name, Dad: the second youkai.”

 

That got Cain's attention. Bas could hear the bed creak as his father sat up; the thump of his feet on the stairs as Cain descended from the loft bedroom of the studio. “Tell me.”

 

“Wait . . . I've got to know . . . you'll believe her, right?”

 

Cain heaved a sigh, and Bas heard the scrape of the door. Cain was heading down to his office, Bas figured. “What? Believe—why?”

 

Bas winced, glowering out the window as he opened and closed his fist around the hilt of Triumvirate, still strapped to his hip. “Humor me, Dad. You'll believe her, right?”

 

Cain paused a moment while Bas discerned the unmistakable click of Cain's silver lighter. “Okay, I believe her. She doesn't have a reason to lie . . . I found her sister's case file. Her account checked out with the information we could glean, aside from the fact that we didn't realize there was a child there in the building, too . . . It was one of the unsolved ones . . .”

 

“Dad . . .”

 

Cain exhaled loudly. “Sorry. Go on.”

 

Bas rubbed his eye and sought a way to tell his father what Sydnie had claimed. `Best just to do it,' he decided with an inward sigh. “Jared Brantley.”

 

Dead silence greeted Bas' words. Cain barked out an incredulous laugh. “Sorry, Bas. I thought you'd said Jared Brantley.”

 

Bas grimaced. “I did.”

 

“Wha—? No-o-o-o . . .”

 

“You said you'd believe her,” Bas reminded him.

 

“I know; I know . . . damn it! She's sure?”

 

“Yes, Dad, she's sure.”

 

“Shit.”

 

“Dad—”

 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Cain growled, his voice starting out low enough only to reach furious proportions by the time he was done with his tirade. “The times I've let him into this house with your mother and sister . . . and your brother and you . . . Damn it!”

 

Bas slumped back against the counter, closing his eyes as the trepidation drained out of him. He'd never have admitted as much to Sydnie, but he hadn't been entirely certain that Cain really would believe her. Jared Brantley was a trusted general, and as she'd said, too, it was her word against his, and while Bas believed her completely, he hadn't been sure that Cain would or could. That he did . . . Bas swallowed the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him.

 

Cain heaved a sigh, breaking through the silence that had followed his outburst. “Okay, okay . . . just get her back here. I'll send one of the hunters to bring him in. I think Moe's available. He'll be there in a day or two.”

 

“No, Dad. I want him.”

 

“Bas—”

 

“She's my mate, and it was the office of the tai-youkai that failed her. We owe her. I owe her.”

 

Cain was silent a moment, deliberating Bas' demand. In the end, he let out a deep breath. “All right, but you listen to me. Your grandfather and uncle are on their way to the city. They're looking into who ordered the hit on Sydnie. I'll call them and have them meet you. Don't you dare go in there alone. Jared Brantley isn't a slouch, and I know you're good, but . . . Anyway, don't go until they're with you, and when you do, you make damn sure you try to get a confession out of him.”

 

“I will,” Bas agreed, his golden gaze darkening as his determination grew stronger. He didn't want to wait for backup, but he understood his father's concern. The generals were considered the elite, weren't they, and to be the elite, they had to be able to substantiate their claims, one way or another.

 

“And Bas?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Make sure you do it in the name of the tai-youkai.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The line went dead, and Bas snapped the cell phone closed with a sigh, dropping it onto the counter before retrieving the glass of milk for Sydnie off the counter and striding from the room again.

 

`In the name of the tai-youkai . . .'

 

Those words were not to be uttered lightly, and Bas knew it. Cain's official business was always conducted as such, but to hear them now and in this context . . . In North America, there were only two men who could use those words and the power that came with them: his father was one of them. Bas, as the next tai-youkai, was the other. That Cain wanted Bas to use them spoke volumes for his feelings on the matter. Jared Brantley was as good as dead.

 

The only thing that struck Bas as odd, though, was Cain's warning not to go in without InuYasha and Ryomaru. Bas hadn't realized that his grandfather and uncle were in the States . . . and yet . . .

 

He scowled as he trudged up the stairs. And yet, maybe he did know, after all. The fight with the eight bounty hunters when he'd been knocked out . . . Sydnie claimed that she'd been able to scare them away, and at the time, Bas had doubted that despite her insistence to the contrary. `They've been here all along, haven't they? The old man and Ryomaru . . . They've been trailing me . . .'

 

Before Bas had gone out on this hunt, such interference would probably have bothered him. Now, though, he couldn't help but be thankful. Had they not been trailing him, the outcome of that fight would have been vastly different, wouldn't it? Sydnie's life meant more to him than anything, including his pride. In the end, did it matter if they had interfered after all? No, he decided, it didn't; not really. Having Sydnie beside him . . . that was the only thing that really meant a damn thing . . .

 

Sydnie sat up in the middle of the bed when Bas opened the door and walked inside. She looked a little calmer, and when he shot her a wan grin, she almost smiled back. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched as she took the glass of milk and swallowed it in one gulp. Then she handed the glass back and crawled into his lap, huddling against his shoulder with a tired little sigh. She was exhausted: mentally, physically. Asleep within moments, she relaxed in his arms.

 

Bas sat there for a long time, stroking her hair, breathing in the comforting scent of her. With every breath he drew, though, his anger grew a little hotter, burned a little brighter. About three in the morning, he carefully set her aside, tucking her in gently and kissing her cheek as she slept. She didn't stir though she uttered a soft little whimper. Bas straightened up, staring at her for a long time while he tried to figure out just what he ought to do.

 

Sydnie didn't wake as he slipped out of the room again. The townhouse was silent as he grabbed his duster and strode toward the door. His grandfather and uncle could find him easily enough. Weren't they the ones who had taught him everything he knew about hunting and tracking?

 

Bas locked the front door behind himself, satisfied that Sydnie would be safe enough here. He couldn't rest until Jared Brantley was taken care of. He owed that much to Sydnie, and moreover, he owed it to himself.

 

 

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A/N:

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Reviewers

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Deceptress:

The Hanyou's have all at one point talked on the phone, and their EARS are located on top of their head? So I'm wondering exactly how you picture them holding the phone?

 

Lol, I've had this question asked before, I think, but as they have phenomenal hearing, it isn't that much trouble for them to hold them normally as a human would. They'd still hear what's being said. Earpieces, however, would be an interesting thing, don't you think? Lol!

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MMorg

RisikaFox ------ Simonkal of Inuy ------ OROsan0677 ------ Rawben ------ InUyAsHaRlZ (all of my original stories are available on my website for purchase: http://www.suericfanfictions.com/originals.htm) ------ inuyashaloverr ------ Deceptress ------ lila_elensar ------ DarklessVasion ------ InUyAsHaRlZ ------ Kurisu no Ryuujin ------ kitsunesan ------ White Raven ------ artemiswaterdragon ------ tdgtink85 ------ GoldWings ------ animeloca ------ Kilikina616 ------ kiaraecko

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Final Thought fromCain:

Jared … Brantley…?

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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~