InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 8: Vendetta ❯ Breaking Down ( Chapter 51 )

~~Chapter 51~~

~Breaking Down~

 

-=0=-

 

 

Kichiro carefully got into the bed, trying not to wake up Bellaniece since he knew that she hadn't been sleeping very well, especially since the dream she'd had last night.

 

It was frustrating him beyond all reason, wasn't it? Gunnar had called earlier to tell them that they weren't having much luck in tracking the scent they'd located in the old office building. It seemed like everything they did was useless, pointless, and the battle against hopelessness was one that Kichiro was winning, but barely.

 

Samantha . . .

 

He hated to consider exactly how many days she'd been missing, since anyone had heard from her. Someone, somewhere had to know something, didn't they? Someone . . . but who?

 

Youkai were starting to take advantage of the chaos, too, which only served to exacerbate the feeling that everything was falling apart. Sesshoumaru had gone back to Japan to quell the troubles there, but Kichiro had overheard Cain and Ben talking earlier. There had been a rash of killings of late—youkai daring the tai-youkai to show or roll over, as it were.

 

But no one was willing to give up, either—something that Kichiro truly appreciated, even if the questions that Gunnar had posed before were looming ever larger in his own head. Just how long could they do this? How long could Kichiro ask everyone to ignore their own responsibilities? It didn't matter that he knew well enough that no one actually thought of it in that manner, and he'd keep looking, come hell or high water. He'd search everywhere, anywhere. He'd make damn sure that his daughter came home . . .

 

The trill of his cell phone cut through his glum thoughts, and he glanced at the number but flipped the device open before it could disturb his mate. “Hello?”

 

“Uh, yeah, is this the guy with the missing daughter?”

 

He frowned at the sound of the young man's voice. “Yes. Do you know something?”

 

“Um, sure,” the pup said, “I'll tell you what I know if you send me twenty-five thousand bucks.”

 

With an irritated growl, Kichiro slapped the phone closed.

 

The phone rang a second later. Gritting his teeth, he answered it. “Hello?”

 

“You really don't care about your daughter at all, do you? Cheap assed bastard!”

 

Again, he slapped the phone closed, scowling at it as he considered shutting it off. His thumb was poised above the power button: he almost pressed it, but it rang for a third time before he could. Anger shot to the fore; outrage that scum like that would try to coerce money from him. On a whim, he scribbled the caller ID number onto the tablet of paper on the nightstand before answering the call. “Listen, you little fuck! If you know something, then you'd damn well better spit it out now, or I swear on all that is holy, I'll hunt you down and kill you, myself!” he snarled.

 

The pup didn't answer. Kichiro gritted his teeth. In the background, he could hear trace sounds; a car passing by, mumbled voices . . . and soft breathing.

 

“Who the hell is this?” he demanded, his patience, such as it was, rapidly dwindling.

 

Still there was no answer. The breathing on the other end stuttered and choked.

 

“Damn you,” he growled, his grip tightening precariously on the phone. “If you got something to say, just say it!”

 

There was another catch in the breathing. It was enough to set his hackles skyrocketing. “What the fuck ever,” he hissed, ready to hang up.

 

“. . . Papa . . .?”

 

Kichiro went stock still, his heart dropping in his chest as the air whooshed out of his lungs. For a painful moment, he honestly thought that his mind was playing tricks on him. The sound of a semi's horn erupted on the other end of the line, though, and he didn't miss the little whimper. “. . . S . . . S-Sami . . .? Dollbaby . . .?” he whispered.

 

Bellaniece gasped, sitting up straight, all traces of sleep vanishing from her face. “Kichiro?”

 

He waved a hand at her as he strained to listen. “Samantha? Is that you?”

 

“P . . . papa,” she repeated, her voice little more than a whisper. “He . . . he told me to . . . to drive, but I can't . . .”

 

“Dollbaby, where are you?” he demanded, struggling to keep his tone gentle, to keep from sounding entirely frantic. “Where?”

 

“I . . . I don't know,” she admitted. She sounded like she was a mere breath away from complete panic.

 

“Samantha? Baby? It's Mama!” Bellaniece exclaimed. “Where is she?” she demanded.

 

“H-here, sweetie. Talk to your mama,” Kichiro instructed as Bellaniece reached for the phone. “Stay where you are, all right? We'll be there.”

 

Grabbing the pad of paper where he'd written the number, he dashed out of the room. “Baby, where are you?” Bellaniece asked.

 

She sniffled. “He . . . he said to call Papa,” she said. “That's what he said . . .”

 

“And you did,” Bellaniece insisted as she tossed back the blankets and stumbled out of bed. “You did exactly what you were told . . . Can you see anything where you are? Any . . . signs or anything?”

 

She breathed hard, and the phone creaked as though she were straining the cord. “There's . . . a big cow,” she finally said in a strangely vacant tone. “Really big . . .”

 

“A big cow,” Bellaniece repeated as she pulled on the first dress she laid hands on. “Okay, okay . . . Anything else?”

 

“It's dark,” Samantha whispered. “He told me to drive, but the car stopped . . .”

 

“Who told you to drive?” Bellaniece asked.

 

“The taijya,” she replied. “Kurt . . .”

 

“Taijya? Samantha . . .”

 

Samantha sniffled as though she were crying. “I want to come home, Mama,” she whined.

 

The line cut out a couple times, and Bellaniece nearly screamed as she dashed a hand over her eyes and ground her teeth together. It had never been easy for her to see her children upset, and now was especially bad. If she could just see Samantha's face . . . “Sami? Sam? Baby?”

 

She almost thought she'd lost Samantha when she finally spoke again. “They . . . they want more money,” she muttered. “I don't have anymore . . .”

 

Bellaniece grimaced as she hurried out of the room and down the hallway. “Sweetie—”

 

“I . . . to go . . .”

 

“Sami! Baby, don't hang up! Talk to Mama! Please!”

 

The line clicked and went dead, and Bellaniece nearly sobbed, but she hit redial and waited. No one answered. She hung up and tried again. Dashing down the stairs as quickly as she could, she almost collided with Kichiro and Cain as the two strode out of the office. “Is she still—”

 

“She hung up,” Bellaniece blurted, hitting redial for the third time. “She said they want money! Who wants money?”

 

Cain caught his daughter by the shoulders and leaned down to look into her face. “Bellaniece, it was a pay phone,” he told her as Kichiro dropped her coat over her shoulders. “She's in Massachusetts, and she probably meant that she didn't have more money for the call,” he told her. “We can be there soon. Come on.”

 

“But why didn't she call collect?”

 

Kichiro shook his head as he propelled her toward the door. “Maybe she didn't think of it,” he told her. “It's all right, princess. We know where she is.”

 

“She said there was a huge cow,” Bellaniece went on as she hurried out of the house.

 

Kichiro nodded and waited as Bellaniece slipped into the back seat of Cain's SUV and climbed in beside her, pulling her close and wrapping an arm around her. “It's okay, Belle-chan,” he promised. “How long is it going to take us to get there?”

 

Cain shook his head and started the engine. “Not too long,” he assured them as he put the vehicle into gear and pulled out of the driveway. “Not too long, at all . . .”

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Samantha shivered and huddled in the darkness, clutching the knapsack tightly against her chest. Every little noise she heard seemed magnified; every little movement just outside of the wan light given off by the stagnant fluorescent bulbs that illuminated the port over the four gas pumps . . . The roar of cars was deafening, creating a throbbing in her head that made her want to scream, and too many smells—too many sounds—too many everything . . . The stench of the raccoon's blood that had splattered her coat was overwhelming, and as her slowed senses returned, a panic set in so deep, so harsh, that she felt like screaming . . .

 

Whimpering quietly, she winced when the sound of footsteps approached. Common sense told her that she was well enough hidden; common sense had little to do with her instincts at the moment, though. The footsteps were quiet, hesitant, and the person heaved a sigh, muttering under his breath about crazy people in general. “Samantha?” he called in a bored tone of voice. “Samantha Izayoi?”

 

The sound of her name rattled through her, jarring her already shaky nerves as she retreated just a little further into the recesses of the shadows. The young man who had called out to her sighed again. “Sorry, dude. There's no one out here . . . I am looking, and— . . . All right; all right. I'll look around one more time . . .”

 

She breathed a sigh of relief as the feet moved away again, letting her temple rest against the rough, cold bricks of the building. “Papa,” she whispered, wincing as a fierce sort of emotion surged through her. He was coming for her, wasn't he? He would . . .

 

`I . . . I just want to go home,' she thought suddenly as a sob rose to choke her. `Home . . .'

 

But as quickly as the thought had come to her, another one prodded her. The warmth of the taijya's arms . . . the feel of his heart beating against her cheek . . . The gentleness of the kiss that he hadn't been able to resist . . . That kiss had solidified everything that she thought she'd known before, hadn't it? He really was her mate, and she knew it, and he'd promised, hadn't he? He'd promised that he'd come for her . . . The family that she knew, the ones she heard laughing in the back of her mind, gently calling to her, drawing her back to the place where she'd come from, but the taijya—Kurt—his home . . . Wasn't that hers, too? Wasn't that truly where she belonged . . .? And if that were true, then where? Where was her true home?

 

She closed her eyes and uttered a soft cry, a moan. She couldn't think anymore, could she? She couldn't think, and she couldn't deal, and . . . and maybe she needed to stop trying, at least for now . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

The SUV pulled into the gas station on the outskirts of Lowell, Massachusetts, in record time, having made the nearly two hundred mile journey in little more than two hours. Kichiro and Bellaniece tumbled out of the vehicle before it came to a complete halt. She blinked and frowned, casting Kichiro a worried look. “I don't . . . I don't smell her,” she murmured.

 

Kichiro nodded. “Just look around. I can . . . I can feel her . . .”

 

Bellaniece squeezed her mate's hand as her father jogged toward the station.

 

Kichiro headed toward the right side of the building, calling for Samantha. Bellaniece moved off toward the other side. That was true, wasn't it? She could feel her daughter's presence, but . . . but why couldn't she smell her? `No,' she thought as she stared around at the darkness. `That's not quite right, either . . .'

 

“Samantha? Baby, it's Mama,” she called, her eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of her daughter. Turning her gaze upward, toward the top of the building, she couldn't help but feel that Samantha was near, but . . . But was it because of the length of time that had passed, the unsettling notion that this was all some sort of elaborate hoax, too . . .?

 

“Samantha? Sami . . .? We're here . . . Papa and I are here . . .”

 

Stepping deeper into the shadows cast by the building, Bellaniece frowned. There was nothing there; nothing at all. In the distance, she could hear Kichiro calling out for Samantha. He sounded rather far away, as though he'd gone across the street to check around the giant cow that Samantha had mentioned.

 

Rubbing her arms, she headed further into the shadows, rounding the building and slowly looking around. The rusty old dark green trash dumpster was situated beside the steel door in a slight shelter where the back of the gas station jutted out in an `L' shape. About fifty feet away on the other side were trees—the forest, and Bellaniece winced. If Samantha were frightened, would she have retreated into the shadows of the trees to hide . . .?

 

But no . . . no, Bellaniece could feel her nearby, couldn't she? She could feel her . . . “Sami? Baby?” she called, purposefully keeping her voice low. The panic in her daughter's voice during that brief phone call . . . She was scared, and Bellaniece knew it . . . she could feel anxiety so thick that it was a choking, bitter thing, but it was so dense that it was impossible to figure out where it was coming from . . . “Sami?” she called again.

 

Stepping forward, her eyes scanning the area for anything—anything—that might lead her to her daughter, she bit her lip. “Sami? Sweetie . . .? Where are you? It's me . . . it's Mama . . .” The thickness of tears rose to choke her, and she blinked to stave them back. “Baby, where are you . . .?”

 

The slightest noise drew her attention. It sounded like a vague scratching. “M . . . ma . . . ma?”

 

Bellaniece gasped, the blood draining from her face as she suddenly forgot to breathe. “Sami,” she breathed, her eyes widening as she turned around in a circle, trying to look everywhere at all once. She gasped softly as she stared at the dumpster again, dropping to the pavement in the thin blanket of falling snow. “Baby,” she exclaimed quietly when she saw the blinking eyes shining at her in the darkness. Huddled between the wall and the dumpster, she sat—her daughter—her heart. “Oh, Sami . . .” Turning her head slightly, she called out, “Kichiro! Daddy . . .!”

 

She started to crawl in after her. Samantha whimpered and pushed back with her feet, propelling herself deeper into the shadows. Bellaniece froze for a moment, her heart breaking at the absolute spike of fear that surged from her daughter. “I-it's me, Samantha . . . It's Mama . . .” she coaxed, her voice trembling, faltering.

 

The girl blinked, and the panic in her youki receded just a little, just enough to weaken the thickness of the invisible hand that was squeezing Bellaniece's heart. Slowly, painfully slowly, she held her breath, creeping forward, reaching out a hand, desperate to touch her, to assure herself that Samantha really was right there; that she could finally take her little girl home. “You know me, right? You know your mama . . .”

 

“Mama . . .?” Samantha murmured.

 

`Just a little further,' Bellaniece told herself. Her fingertips brushed over the smooth flesh of Samantha's cheek. A harsh little sob slipped from her. A moment later in a blur of motion, Bellaniece could only sob and hold on tight as the tiny form of her youngest daughter threw herself against her chest. The scent of their tears mingled as the months of worry and panic receded, as the million questions about where Samantha had been dissolved before they were ever uttered.

 

It didn't matter, did it? Didn't matter at all. She . . . she was going home . . . She was going home.

 

“Belle-chan . . .?”

 

Bellaniece laughed and sobbed, wrapping her arms a little tighter around her daughter. “We're here,” she called, her voice faltering, breaking. “We're here . . .”

 

“Kami,” Kichiro breathed. A moment later, his arms were around them both, his tears mingling with theirs, and he sat without a word, content to hold onto them . . . his girls . . .

 

The dumpster groaned slightly, moving away from the wall as Samantha gave an involuntary cry. It stopped moving, and Bellaniece looked up, her smile radiant as she met her father's brightened gaze. Leaning against the wall behind Kichiro, he said nothing as tears coursed down his cheeks, too, and when he met Bellaniece's gaze, he smiled.

 

“I'm sorry, Papa . . . I missed y-your birthday,” Samantha murmured, her voice muffled by her mother's chest.

 

“Oh, dollbaby,” Kichiro choked. “Sami . . .”

 

“Grandpa's here, too,” Bellaniece said.

 

Samantha nodded but didn't seem at all interested in letting go of her mother, which was just fine with Bellaniece.

 

“Daddy . . .?”

 

Cain nodded and pushed himself away from the wall, skirting around the dumpster to scoot in behind Samantha. He said nothing as he reached out to stroke her hair, leaned down to kiss her head.

 

Kichiro sniffed and wiped his eyes and smiled weakly despite the concern still lingering in his gaze. Bellaniece leaned against him, and for a moment, she closed her eyes, savoring the absolute relief that she hadn't felt in months.

 

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat. “Why don't we go home now?”

 

Kichiro nodded, and without a second thought, he scooped up both Bellaniece and Samantha, following along behind as Cain led the way around the gas station and the SUV.

 

 

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A/N:

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Final Thought from Bellaniece:

My baby girl …

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Vendetta): 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~